n and the adjoining rooms. In this
way I hope, with a prudent style of living, to make shift easily for
the first years, and in the meanwhile to render myself fit for some
place or other."

"Here then will be thy study?" said Eulenboeck, shaking his head. "This
place does not at all please me, for I do not think these walls are
adapted to lucubration; they have not the proper repercussion; the room
itself has not the right quadrature; the thoughts rebound too violently
and make a clatter; and if ever you want to continue them in a fugue,
they will be sure all to clash in a hubbub together. It was another
whim of your poor papa to spoil as he did this fine saloon in his
latter years by his caprice. Formerly one looked upon the street on the
one side, and here, on the other, over the garden and the park, away to
the hills and distant mountains. He not only blocked up this fine view,
but even covered the window niches to a great depth with boards and
wainscotting, and so destroyed the symmetry of the room. If I were in
thy place, I would tear all that stuff, tapestry, and wainscotting open
again, and if any of the windows are to be lost, block up those which
look on the street."

"It was not caprice," said Edward; "it was done, this being his
favourite room, on account of his health; the east wind hurt him, and
caused him twinges of the gout. The verdant prospect he could enjoy in
the other rooms."

"If old Walther was not a fool," proceeded Eulenboeck, "you were easily
relieved. He might give you the girl, who must at all events be
settled, and all would be right again."

"Silence!" cried Edward, with the greatest vehemence: "only to-day let
me forget what I hoped and dreamt. I would cease to think of her, since
to my horror I have begun to feel that I love her. I will not remind
myself how stupidly and foolishly I behaved to her father; not a
thought shall cross me to-day, not even her incomprehensible behaviour.
No, a glorious lot was prepared for me, I have become aware of it too
late; the punishment of my heedlessness is that I must renounce it for
ever! But how I can live without her, the future must teach me."

Here the young man, who till now had played the part of Edward's
librarian, came in. "Here is the catalogue you ordered," said he,
presenting a few leaves to the youth, who received them with shame.
"How!" he exclaimed, "not more than about six hundred volumes remaining
of that fine collection, and amon