h as "Oh, I don't know if you understand
me--there are so few people that understand me--I don't know how to
express what I mean; but I feel it so strongly." In short, there was
about Miss Schrappe nothing of that vagueness and mystery which is
woman's most exquisite charm.

Furthermore, he had a suspicion that she was "learned." And everyone,
surely, must agree with Cousin Hans that if a woman is to fulfil her
mission in this life (that is to say, to be a man's wife) she ought
clearly to have no other acquirements than those her husband wishes her
to have, or himself confers upon her. Any other fund of knowledge must
always be a dowry of exceedingly doubtful value.

Cousin Hans was in the most miserable of moods. It was only eight
o'clock, and he did not think it would do to take his departure before
half-past nine. The captain had already settled himself at the table,
prepared to begin the sham-fight. There was no chance of escape, and
Hans took a seat at his side.

Opposite to him sat Miss Betty, with her sewing, and with a book in
front of her. He leaned forward and discovered that it was a German
novel of the modern school.

It was precisely one of those works which Hans was wont to praise loudly
when he developed his advanced views, colored with a little dash of
free-thought. But to find this book here, in a lady's hands, and, what
was more, in German (Hans had read it in a translation), was in the last
degree unpleasing to him.

Accordingly, when Miss Betty asked if he liked the novel, he answered
that it was one of the books which should only be read by men of ripened
judgment and established principles, and that it was not at all suited
for ladies.

He saw that the girl flushed, and he felt that he had been rude. But
he was really feeling desperate, and, besides, there was something
positively irritating in this superior little person.

He was intensely worried and bored; and, to fulfil the measure of his
suffering, the captain began to make Battalion B advance "under cover of
the night."

Cousin Hans now watched the captain moving match-boxes, penknives, and
other small objects about the table. He nodded now and then, but he did
not pay the slightest attention. He thought of the lovely Miss Beck,
whom he was, perhaps, never to see again; and now and then he stole a
glance at Miss Schrappe, to whom he had been so rude.

He gave a sudden start as the captain slapped him on the shoulder, with
the word