offered to her. It was only a
foolish fancy, this that he had cherished, that she was his sweetheart
of long ago; it was the rational truth that he had to deal with--that
she was his daughter, who had given him in full measure a daughter's
love and duty, and for whom now, as was a father's duty, he must secure
a good husband, who would care for her well and loyally when death had
taken her father from her. This was the right conclusion, but all the
strength of his will was required to bring him to it; and when at last
He said to himself that what so plainly was right should be firmly done,
the color suddenly left his face, and there went through his heart the
sharp pang that he had learned to dread because of the agony of it. So
wrenching was the pain that he could not repress a cry; but it was not
a loud cry, and the sound of it was lost in the glad carolling of the
Kronprinz's song.

When Roschen came home, a little later, she was frightened by finding
her father looking so pale and worn; but the sight of her dear face, and
her loving looks and words, revived him quickly, and her fear passed
by. And she forgot her fear the sooner because of the momentous question
which he then opened to her; for this last sharp seizure, keener than
any that had preceded it, had warned Andreas that the duty which he had
to do should not be delayed.

Very tenderly and lovingly did he speak of this heart matter to his
little rose, his Roschen, as she sat beside him on a low stool, after
the childish habit that she never had relinquished, while her head was
nestled against his breast, and while he stroked her fair hair gently
with his thin, delicate hand. And as he made clear to her all that she
was to know, and explained to her that the decision between these rival
lovers, or the rejection of them both, must be made by herself, the
rosiness of this pretty Roschen became a deep crimson, and her head sank
down upon her father's breast so that her face was hid from him; and
as his arms clasped her closely to this loving haven she fell to crying
gently there, as in such cases is a proper maiden's rather unreasonable
way.

"Does the thought of lovers make thee sad, my little one?" Andreas
asked; and he could not quite stifle, though he tried hard to stifle,
the hope that perhaps Roschen might settle this present matter so that
for a little time longer she still would be wholly his own.

"It is not the thought of lovers, dear father," Ros