he
desire to marry, or has that not entered into your plans?"

"No, I shall not marry. I have heard so many men say, 'Yes, ideals, I
had them too, but now I live in and for my family.' I will not
sacrifice everything higher to the caprice of a pretty woman. I know
that I am at variance with the world; I cannot dissemble, nor can I
change my own way of thinking, nor bring others over to mine. I have
set myself a difficult life-task, which can be best carried out alone."

Clodwig stepped quickly towards Eric and said:--

"I give you my hand again. This hand shall never be withdrawn from you,
so long as it has life. I had something else in view for you, but now I
cannot and need not speak of it; I will subdue my own wishes. Enough;
press on quietly and firmly towards your goal; whatever I can do to
help you reach it, you have a right to demand. Remember you have a
claim upon me in every situation and condition of your life. You cannot
yet estimate what you have given, and are still giving me. Good night,
my dear young friend."

The count hastily withdrew, as if to avoid any further emotion. Eric
stood still, looking at the empty chair and the sofa-blanket as if all
were a dream, until a servant came, and, in a very respectful manner,
conducted him to his room.

CHAPTER X.

THE GOOD HOST.

When a man has laid open his whole history to another, he often seems
to himself emptied, hollow, and void,--what is left of him? how small
and contemptible he appears! But it was quite otherwise with Eric. From
a tower below in the valley rang clear a silver-toned midnight bell,
hung there in ancient times by a noble lady, to guide the lost wanderer
in the forest to a human dwelling. Eric heard it, and saw in fancy the
confessional in the church, with its believers bending before it, or
passing out into the world again made strong by its blessing. He had
confessed to a man whose life was consecrated by a pure spirit, and
felt himself not impoverished, but elevated and strengthened, armed
with self-knowledge for every relation of life.

He opened the window, and inhaled the cool, fragrant air of night. Over
the valley hung a thin mist; the clocks in the villages struck
midnight, and the Wolfsgarten clock chimed in sweet and low. Eric
resigned himself to the influence of nature's life and power as it
presses upward in the tree-trunks, moves in the branches, and re