hat was most to my liking, at least
more--I beg your pardon, Innstetten--than always having to look up to
some one else. For in the latter case one is always obliged to bear in
mind and pay heed to exalted and most exalted superiors. That is no
life for me. Here I live along in such liberty and rejoice at every
green leaf and the wild grape-vine that grows over those windows
yonder."

He spoke further in this vein, indulging in all sorts of
anti-bureaucratic remarks, and excusing himself from time to time with
a blunt "I beg your pardon, Innstetten," which he interjected in a
variety of ways. The Baron mechanically nodded assent, but in reality
paid little attention to what was said. He turned his gaze again and
again, as though spellbound, to the wild grape-vine twining about the
window, of which Briest had just spoken, and as his thoughts were thus
engaged, it seemed to him as though he saw again the girls' sandy
heads among the vines and heard the saucy call, "Come, Effi."

He did not believe in omens and the like; on the contrary, he was far
from entertaining superstitious ideas. Nevertheless he could not rid
his mind of the two words, and while Briest's peroration rambled on
and on he had the constant feeling that the little incident was
something more than mere chance.

Innstetten, who had taken only a short vacation, departed the
following morning, after promising to write every day. "Yes, you must
do that," Effi had said, and these words came from her heart. She had
for years known nothing more delightful than, for example, to receive
a large number of birthday letters. Everybody had to write her a
letter for that day. Such expressions as "Gertrude and Clara join me
in sending you heartiest congratulations," were tabooed. Gertrude and
Clara, if they wished to be considered friends, had to see to it that
they sent individual letters with separate postage stamps, and, if
possible, foreign ones, from Switzerland or Carlsbad, for her birthday
came in the traveling season.

Innstetten actually wrote every day, as he had promised. The thing
that made the receipt of his letters particularly pleasurable was the
circumstance that he expected in return only one very short letter
every week. This he received regularly and it was always full of
charming trifles, which never failed to delight him. Mrs. von Briest
undertook to carry on the correspondence with her future son-in-law
whenever there was any serious matter to