nodded silently.

"Is it possible!" cried the little gentleman as he rose to go--"as if
the time of an engagement were not the happiest in the world.
Afterwards it is all pure prose, my child. And they are spoiling this
time for you now--well, you just wait. I must go now to my card-party.
I will look in on your mother this evening. Good bye; my love to him
when you write."

"Good-bye, uncle. Don't forget that I shall trust to your selfishness."

When the old gentleman had closed the door behind him, she sat down to
her desk, look out a letter and began to read it. It was his last
letter; it had come this morning and it contained some verses.

How she delighted in these verses in her loneliness! Nothing in the
world could separate them! She would indemnify him a thousandfold by
her love for all he had to endure now. She tried by a thousand sweet,
loving words to make him forget the scorn which her friends scarcely
tried to conceal for his boldness and presumption. His manly pride must
suffer so greatly under it. More than once the blood had mounted
quickly to his forehead, and more than once had he taken leave earlier
than he need, as if he could not keep silent and for the sake of peace
took refuge in flight.

"I wish I had you in Niendorf now, Gertrude," he had said at the last
farewell. "I cannot bear it very patiently to be looked through as if I
were only air, by your mother."

And she had nestled closer to him, trembling with agitation.

"Mamma does not mean anything by it, Frank," replied her lips, though
her heart knew better. And then he had pressed her passionately to him
as he said,

"If I did not love you so much, Gertrude!"

"But it will soon be spring, Frank."

And to-day the verses had come with a bouquet of violets.

She started as she heard Jenny's voice, and immediately after her
sister came in, angry and excited.

"I must come to you for a little rest, Gertrude," she said. "Linden is
not here? Thank goodness! I can't stand it at home any longer, the baby
is so fretful and screams and cries enough to deafen one. The doctor
says he must be put to bed, so I have tucked him into his crib. There
is always something to upset and fret one."

Gertrude started. Well at any rate he was in good hands with Caroline,
she thought.

"Are you going to the masked ball--you and Linden?" asked the young
wife.

"No," replied Gertrude, putting away her letter.

"Why not?"

"Why should we go? I do no