ad my
dinner," he explained, "and nothing can be more dangerous than hard
thinking just after a meal. Ta, ta! There, this is comfortable; now
tell me something pleasant, child--about your lover; for instance, how
many kisses did he give you yesterday? Honestly now, Gertrude."

He had stretched himself out comfortably in an arm-chair, and his young
niece pushed a footstool under his feet and put an afghan over his
knees.

"None at all, uncle," she said, gravely; "people do not ask about such
things either, you know. Besides I see Frank very seldom," she
hesitated. "Mamma goes out so much, and I cannot receive him when she
is not at home. And, uncle, it is about that that I wanted to speak to
you. Mamma,"--she hesitated again,--"mamma makes me so anxious by all
manner of remarks about Linden's circumstances. You know, uncle--"

"And you think she knows all about them?" said the old gentleman. "Oh,
of course, ta, ta!"

"Yes, uncle. You see the day before yesterday mamma went out to dine
with Jenny, and when she came back she called me into her room, and as
soon as I got there I saw that something had happened. Just fancy,
uncle, she had been in Niendorf to see, as mamma expressed it, the
place where her daughter was going to bury herself. It would be
horrible, she declared, to take a young wife to this peasant house; it
was not fit for any one to live in; she had felt as if she were in some
third-rate farm-house. Linden was sitting in a room--she could touch
the ceiling with her hand it was so low, and it was all so poor and
common. In short, I could not go there, and if I would not give up my
whim of being Mr. Linden's wife, she would have to build a house for me
first, for he--he--well, he certainly would not be able to do it, and
it would be much more convenient too, to have a snug nest made for him
by his mother-in-law. Jenny, who was present at this scene, agreed with
her in everything. Oh, uncle, I am so sorry for him, and it is all on
my account."

"Did your mother speak to him about building?" asked Uncle Henry.

She drew her hand across her forehead.

"I don't know--I went away without answering. If I had made any reply,
it would have been of no use--we battle with unequal weapons, or rather
I cannot use my weapons, for she is still my mother."

Her uncle's eyes gazed at her with unmistakable compassion--she was so
pale and she had a weary look about her mouth.

"You poor child! I see they do not make y