ore. Now an you come to me and said, 'O Dame Martha, give
me your advice, to which of these young men, who are all wanting me,
shall I give my hand and heart?' then I should of course answer, 'If
your heart does not speak out loudly and distinctly. It's this or it's
that, why, let them all three go.' I must say Reinhold pleases me right
well, and so does Frederick, and so does Conrad; and then again on the
other hand I have something to say against each of them. In fact, dear
Rose, when I see them working away so bravely, I always think of my
poor Valentine; and I must say that, if he could not perhaps produce
any better work, there was yet quite a different kind of swing and
style in all that he did do. You could see all his heart was in his
work; but with these young fellows it always seems to me as if they
only worked so, so--as if they had in their heads different things
altogether from their work; nay, it almost strikes me as if it were a
burden which they have voluntarily taken up, and were now bearing with
sturdy courage. Of them all I can get on best with Frederick; he's such
a faithful, affectionate fellow. He is the one who seems to belong to
us most; I understand all that he says. And then his love for you is so
still, and as shy as a good child's; he hardly dares to look at you,
and blushes if you only say a single word to him; and that's what I
like so much in the dear lad." A tear seemed to glisten in Rose's eye
as Dame Martha said this. She stood up, and turning to the window,
said, "I like Frederick very much, but you must not pass over Reinhold
contemptuously." "I never dreamt of doing so," replied Dame Martha,
"for Reinhold is by a long way the handsomest of all. And what eyes
he has! And when he looks you through and through with his bright
glances--no, it's more than you can endure. And yet there's something
so strange and peculiar in his character, it quite makes me shiver at
times, and makes me quite afraid of him. When Reinhold is working in
the shop, I should think Herr Martin, when he tells him to do this or
do that, must always feel as I should if anybody were to put a bright
pan in my kitchen all glittering with gold and precious stones, and
should bid me use it like any ordinary common pan--why, I should hardly
dare to touch it at all. He tells his stories and talks and talks, and
it all sounds like sweet music, and you are quite carried away by it,
but when I sit down to think seriously about