went into violent hysterics. In the meantime Von Hartmann strode into
the room and threw himself down upon the sofa in the worst of tempers.

"Elise!" he shouted. "Confound the girl! Elise!"

Thus roughly summoned, the young lady came timidly downstairs and into
the presence of her lover. "Dearest!" she cried, throwing her arms round
him, "I know this is all done for my sake. It is a _ruse_ in order to
see me."

Von Hartmann's indignation at this fresh attack upon him was so great
that he became speechless for a minute from rage, and could only glare
and shake his fists, while he struggled in her embrace. When he at last
regained his utterance, he indulged in such a bellow of passion that the
young lady dropped back, petrified with fear, into an arm-chair.

"Never have I passed such a day in my life," Von Hartmann cried,
stamping upon the floor. "My experiment has failed. Von Althaus has
insulted me. Two students have dragged me along the public road. My wife
nearly faints when I ask her for dinner, and my daughter flies at me and
hugs me like a grizzly bear."

"You are ill, dear," the young lady cried. "Your mind is wandering. You
have not even kissed me once."

"No, and I don't intend to either," Von Hartmann said with decision.
"You ought to be ashamed of yourself. Why don't you go and fetch my
slippers, and help your mother to dish the dinner?"

"And is it for this," Elise cried, burying her face in her
handkerchief--"is it for this that I have loved you passionately for
upwards of ten months? Is it for this that I have braved my mother's
wrath? Oh, you have broken my heart; I am sure you have!" and she sobbed
hysterically.

"I can't stand much more of this," roared Von Hartmann furiously. "What
the deuce does the girl mean? What did I do ten months ago which
inspired you with such a particular affection for me? If you are really
so very fond, you would do better to run away down and find the Schinken
and some bread, instead of talking all this nonsense."

"Oh, my darling!" cried the unhappy maiden, throwing herself into the
arms of what she imagined to be her lover, "you do but joke in order to
frighten your little Elise."

Now it chanced that at the moment of this unexpected embrace Von
Hartmann was still leaning back against the end of the sofa, which, like
much German furniture, was in a somewhat rickety condition. It also
chanced that beneath this end of the sofa there stood a tank full of
water in