friendly feeling that one could not
refuse compliance,--

"Fraeulein Manna! We erring creatures outside like to have a lasting
token in our hands."

"What do you want?" quickly and sharply struck in the superior.

"Honored mother! I would beseech you," Pranken said, turning quickly
with humble mien toward the severe lady, "I would beseech you to permit
Fraeulein Sonnenkamp to give that book into my hand."

"Wonderful!" cried Manna, "I wanted to do that! I wanted to give it to
you to carry to my brother. Ask him to read every day a chapter,
beginning from the place where the green twig is put, so that he may
receive every day the same thoughts into his soul that I do."

"What happiness this harmony of feeling, this oneness of sentiment,
gives me! It would be a profanation to try to describe it!"

The superior was at a loss what to do, and Pranken continued:--

"I beseech you, then, my honored Fraeulein, to pardon my presumption; I
would like to request you to give me this holy book for my own
edification, and that I too may be allowed to keep even step with your
brother and you."

"But my name is written in the book," said Manna, blushing.

"So much the better," Pranken wanted to say, but luckily he was able to
withhold it; he turned to the superior, folded his hands, and stood as
if praying her to grant his petition. The superior nodded her head
several times, and at last said,--

"My child, you may, perhaps, comply with this request of Herr von
Pranken. And now, farewell."

Pranken received the book. He left the convent. As he sat in the boat,
the ferryman said to him,--

"Perhaps some maiden over there is betrothed to you?"

Pranken did not reply, but he gave the ferryman a whole handful of
money. His heart throbbing with bliss, Pranken rushed up the bank, and
immediately sent a telegram to his sister.

CHAPTER III.

HERCULES IN A HAIR-DRESSER'S SHOP.

The telegraphist was very much astonished, but did not dare to express
his surprise, when the handsome, noble young man, with the polished
exterior and the unassuming air, through which there was plainly
discernible a feeling of condescension towards a public officer, handed
in a telegram mysteriously worded, and running thus:--

"God be praised! a green twig from the island of felicity. New
genealogical tree. Heavenly manna. Endless possessions, A consecrated
one, new-born.