ile he worked on in silence.

For weeks she had been aware of this shade upon his spirits without
having been able to discover its cause, and to cheer him up she had
begged him for a bust of the child. Heretofore she had never come to
his studio unless accompanied by Angelica. Now she came every day with
the child, who was passionately fond of her, staid the whole forenoon,
and then took little Frances home with her to dinner, which was always
a fresh treat to the little one. Yet delighted as her friend was at
this arrangement and at this confidential intercourse with his beloved,
the shadow that rested on his spirits did not depart. At last she asked
him directly what it was that oppressed him. She earnestly besought him
to tell her, claiming it as her just right; for unless he did so she
would be compelled to think that she herself was the cause of his
sadness. The fresh outburst of passion with which he greeted this
speech, and which she herself was continually obliged to keep within
bounds, ought to have satisfied her on this point. But his strange
depression was still left unexplained. She must have patience with
him--he had entreated of her time and time again. Things would get
better and come out all right in the end. He loved her far too well to
embitter her life with all the wretched troubles he had to deal with.
If she could help him in any way he would not spare her or be ashamed
to call upon her for aid.

And now when he had finished reading Felix's letter, he handed it, in
silence, to his sweetheart, and stepped to the window while she read.
For a time it was perfectly still in the great room; little Frances had
clambered down from her high chair, and was busily engaged in dressing
and undressing a doll that Julie had given her only that morning. No
sound could be heard but the singing of the fire in the iron stove and
the hopping of the birds on the shelf above, where the plaster casts
stood.

Even after Julie had read the letter to the end, she did not at once
break the silence. Not until some time had elapsed did she send the
child up to Aunt Angelica with her love, and the question whether she
might be allowed to stay up there for a quarter of an hour. Then she
stepped up to the window where Jansen stood in silence, laid her hand
on his shoulder, and said:

"Now if I should guess what it is that secretly troubles you, my
dearest friend, would you confess it to me then?"

He turned, and passionatel