rcely ever
found fault with. She is not a very early riser, but to this she owes
her fine clear eyes."

What power there was in these clear eyes--these swimming blue eyes!
The young man felt it. He told anecdote upon anecdote, and answered
question after question; and mamma always asked the same lively,
sensible, pertinent questions as she had asked at first.

It was a pleasure to hear Herr Alfred speak. He described Naples, the
ascent of Mount Vesuvius, and several of its eruptions; and the widow
lady, who had never heard of them before, was lost in surprise.

"Mercy on us!" she exclaimed; "then it is a volcano? Does it ever do
any harm to anybody?"

"It has destroyed entire towns," he replied: "Pompeii and
Herculaneum."

"But the poor inhabitants! Did you see it yourself?"

"No, not either of these eruptions, but I have a sketch taken by
myself of an eruption which I did witness."

Then he selected from his portfolio a sketch done with a black-lead
pencil; but mamma, who delighted in highly-coloured pictures, looked
at the pale sketch, and exclaimed in amazement,--

"You saw it gush out white?"

Mamma got into Herr Alfred's black books for a few minutes, and he
felt profound contempt for her; but the light from Kala's eyes soon
dispelled his gloom. He bethought him that her mother had no knowledge
of drawing, that was all; but she had what was far better--she had the
sweet, beautiful Kala.

As might have been expected, Alfred and Kala became engaged, and their
betrothal was announced in the newspaper of the town. Mamma bought
thirty copies of it, that she might cut the paragraphs out, and
inclose them to various friends. The betrothed pair were very happy,
and so was the mamma: she felt almost as proud as if her family were
going to be connected with Thorwaldsen.

"You are his successor at any rate," she said; and Alfred thought that
she had said something very clever. Kala said nothing, but her eyes
brightened, and a lovely smile played around her well-formed mouth.
Every movement of hers was graceful: she was very beautiful--that
cannot be said too often.

Alfred was making busts of Kala and her mother: they sat for him, and
saw how with his finger he smoothed and moulded the soft clay.

"It is a compliment to us," said his mother-in-law elect, "that you
condescend to do that simple work yourself, instead of letting your
men dab all that for you."

"No; it is absolutely necessary that I should do