you said once to me: 'Give me a mother--a woman whom I can
love, one that will love me.' When I leave you, Marie, I shall not leave
you here without some one to care for you. I will give you a mother--a
woman you will love, and who will love you in return."

A gleam of sunshine brightened the young girl's face; she flung her arms
around Ludwig's neck, and laughed for very joy.

"You will really, really do this, Ludwig?" she cried happily. "You will
really bring her here? or shall I go to her? Oh, I shall be so happy if
you will do this for me!"

"I am in earnest," returned Ludwig, seriously. "This is no time for
jesting. My superior here"--turning toward the vice-palatine--"will see
that I keep the promise I made in his presence."

"That he will!" promptly assented Herr Bernat. "I am not only the
vice-palatine of your county: I am also the colonel of your regiment."

"And I want you to add still another office to the two you fill so
admirably: that of matrimonial emissary!" added Count Vavel. "In this
patriarchal land I find that the custom still obtains of sending an
emissary to the lady one desires to marry. Will you, Herr Vice-palatine
and Colonel, undertake this mission for me?"

"Of all my missions this will be the most agreeable!" heartily responded
Herr Bernat.

"You know to whom I would have you go," resumed the count. "It is not
far from here. You know who the lady is without my repeating her name.
Go to her, tell her what you have seen and heard here,--I send her my
secret as a betrothal gift,--and then ask her to send me an answer to
the words she heard me speak on a certain eventful occasion."

"You may trust me!" with alacrity responded Herr Bernat. "Within half
an hour I shall return with a reply: _Veni, vidi, vici!_"

After he had shaken hands with his client, the worthy emissary
remembered that it was becoming for even so important a personage as a
Hungarian vice-palatine to show some respect to the distinguished young
lady under Count Vavel's protection. He therefore turned toward her,
brought his spurred heels together, and was on the point of making a
suitable speech, accompanying it with a deep bow, when the young lady
frustrated his ceremonious design by coming quickly toward him and
saying in her frank, girlish manner:

"He who goes on a matrimonial mission must wear a nosegay." With these
words she drew the violets from her corsage, and fastened them in Herr
Bernat's buttonhole.

Her