returns home worried by the
cares of business, he finds no consolation in Ida's sympathy, but is
vexed by her stubbornness and offended by her coldness. Emil sprang
headlong into misery. I will beware of such a step."

"You are unjust and prejudiced. Must all women, then, be Ida
Schlagbeins?"

"Perhaps my Ida might be still worse," retorted Richard sharply.

Herr Frank drummed on his knees, always a sign of displeasure.

"I tell you, Richard," said he emphatically. "Your time will come yet.
You will follow the universal law, and this law will give the lie to
your one-sided view--to your contempt of woman."

"That impulse, father, can be overcome, and habit becomes a second
nature. Besides--"

"Besides--well, what besides?"

"I would say that the time of which you speak is, in my case, happily
passed," answered Richard, still gazing through the window. "For me the
time of sentimental delusion has been short and decisive," he concluded
with a bitter smile.

"Can I, your father, ask a clearer explanation?"

The young man leaned back in his seat and looked at the opposite side
while he spoke.

"Last summer I visited Baden-Baden. On old Mount Eberstein, which is so
picturesquely enthroned above the village, I fell in with a party.
Among the number was a young lady of rare beauty and great modesty. An
acquaintance gave me an opportunity of being introduced to her. We sat
in pleasant conversation under the black oaks until the approaching
twilight compelled us to return to the town. Isabella--such was the
name of the beauty--had made a deep impression on me. So deep that even
the detested crinoline that encircled her person in large hoops found
favor in my sight. Her manner was in no wise coquettish. She spoke with
deliberation and spirit. Her countenance had always the same
expression. Only when the young people, into whose heads the fiery wine
had risen, gave expression to sharp words, did Isabella look up and a
displeased expression, as of injured delicacy, passed over her
countenance. My presence seemed agreeable to her. My conversation may
have pleased her. As we descended the mountain, we came to a difficult
pass. I offered her my arm, which she took in the same unchanging,
quiet manner which made her so charming in my sight. I soon discovered
my affection for the stranger, and wondered how it could arise so
suddenly and become so impetuous. I was ashamed at abandoning so
quickly my opinion of women. But th