idle and dangerous. Thus when Jacobi, not long afterwards, sought to
have a _tete-a-tete_ with her, in order to talk about his and Louise's
plans, she could not help saying that the more she thought about the
undertaking the more foolish did it appear to be.

To which Jacobi answered gaily, "Heaven is the guardian of all fools!"

Elise recollected at that moment how it had fared with a person with
whom she was acquainted, who hoped for this guardianship in an
undertaking that in most respects resembled Jacobi's, yet nothing had
prevented all his affairs from going wrong altogether, and at length
ending in bankruptcy and misery. Elise related this to Jacobi.

"Have you not read, mother," replied he, "a wise observation which
stands at the end of a certain medical work?"

"No," said she; "what observation is it?"

"That what cured the shoemaker killed the tailor," said Jacobi.

Elise could not help laughing, and called him a conceited shoemaker.
Jacobi laughed too, kissed Elise's hand, and then hastened to mingle in
the group of young people, who assembled themselves round the tea-table
to see and to pass judgment on an extraordinary kind of tea-bread
wherewith Louise would welcome her bridegroom, and which, according to
her opinion, besides the freshest freshness, was possessed of many
wonderful qualities.

Whilst at tea, the mother whispered slyly into Louise's ear as Jacobi
put sugar into his tea, "My dear child, there will be a deal of sugar
used in your house--your husband will not be frugal."

Louise whispered back again, "But he will not grumble because too much
sugar is used in the house. So let him take it then, let him take it!"

Both laughed.

Later in the evening, as the mother saw Jacobi dance the gallopade with
Louise and Gabriele, whilst he made all happy with his joy, and his eyes
beamed with life and goodness, she thought to herself--even virtue has
her carelessness; and she was well satisfied with his plans.

One day Jacobi related the particulars of his audience with his
Excellency O----, at P., to Louise and her mother; his relation was as
follows:

"When I came up into the saloon the Bishop N. was coming backwards, with
low bows, out of the chamber of his Excellency. Within, a powerful voice
was heard speaking polite and jocular words, and immediately afterwards
his Excellency himself, with his foot wrapped in a woollen sock,
accompanied the Bishop out. The lofty figure, clothed now in a