ery courtly gentleman, but Wilhelmine always fancied that his eyes were
more melancholy than usual after these mimic courts. One day she asked
him if it saddened him to revoke the past. 'Ah! mon enfant!' he replied,
'que voulez-vous? un coeur profondement blesse ne guerit jamais; and
the melodies of these dances remind me of my wound, which I thought had
healed in your peaceful northern land. Ah! little one, there is no sadder
music to the old than the dance-music of a vanished youth.'

While Wilhelmine read her brother's letter on that cold December morning,
it was to Monsieur Gabriel she at once decided to confide its surprising
contents. Her mother, she knew, would raise a dozen difficulties, and it
were best to talk with Monsieur Gabriel and devise some means of
procuring sufficient money to pay the cost of her journey to Wirtemberg.
Then, if they could hit upon a scheme to propose to Frau von Graevenitz,
there was more likelihood of gaining her consent. But the music had
changed Wilhelmine's mind, and as she climbed up to the organ-loft she
was almost prepared to abandon her intended journey.

'Monsieur Gabriel!' she said, 'I have great news, so strangely unexpected
that I wonder if I am dreaming it! Read this letter of my brother's, and
give me your advice.' The old man stretched out his left hand to take the
paper, while his right hand remained on the organ keys, and as he read he
played a few chords. 'Helas!' he murmured as he refolded the letter, 'so
the time has come when you must go forth into the world. Well, well--it
is right; you are wasted here, though God knows it will be very dark
without you.'

'But, Monsieur Gabriel,' she said, 'you talk as though I should start
to-morrow! I have not told my mother yet, and I have come to you for
advice. Where could I get the money to pay my journey? It will cost many
gulden.'

The old man smiled. 'Money? your brother sends you none, of course? Your
mother? she also has none. Does Friedrich think you can fly southward on
a swallow's wing? And the swallows have gone to the south long ago,' he
added dreamily.

'O Monsieur Gabriel,' cried Wilhelmine, 'help me!--you have always helped
me! tell me where to get this money.'

'My child, I must think; do you know what the cost will be? No, nor I
either; but let me see--how long has this letter been on the
road?--sixteen days--and you could not travel so far without rest and
refreshment. Well! you must have a hundred gul