l medicine. But, Richard, you know Klingenberg's
peculiarities. You must not play as you did just now; you would drive
the doctor from the house."

"Make yourself easy about that, father; I will play while he is on the
mountain."

Richard took a book from the shelf, and glanced over it. Herr Frank
left him, and he immediately replaced the book and returned to his own
room. There he wrote in his diary:

"12th of May.--Man is too apt to be led by his inclination. And what is
inclination? A feeling caused by external impressions, or superinduced
by a disposition of the body. Inclination, therefore, is something
inimical to intellectual life. A vine that threatens to overgrow and
smother clear conviction. Never act from inclination, if you do not
wish to be unfaithful to conviction and guilty o a weakness."

He went into the garden, where he talked to the gardener about trees
and flowers.

"Are you acquainted in Salingen, John?"

"Certainly, sir. I was born there."

"Do strangers sometimes come there to stop and enjoy the beautiful
neighborhood?"

"Oh! no, sir; there is no suitable hotel there--only plain taverns; and
people of quality would not stop at them."

"Are there people of rank in Salingen?"

"Only farmers, sir. But--stay. The rich Siegwart appears to be such,
and his children are brought up in that manner."

"Has Siegwart many children?"

"Four--two boys and two girls. One son is at college. The other takes
care of the estate, and is at home. The oldest daughter has been at the
convent for three years. She is now nineteen years old. The second is
still a child."

Richard went further into the garden; he looked over at Salingen, and
then at the mountains. His eye followed a path that went winding up the
mountain like a golden thread and led to the top. Then his eye rested
for a time on a particular spot in that yellow path. Richard remained
taciturn and reserved the rest of the day. He sat in his room and tried
to read, but the subject did not interest him. He often looked dreamily
from the book. He finally arose, took his hat and cane, and was soon
lost in the mountain. The next morning Richard went to the borders of
the forest, and looked frequently over at Salingen as it lay in rural
serenity before him. The pleasant hamlet excited his interest. He then
turned to the right and pursued the yellow path which he had examined
the day before, up the mountain. The birds sang in the bushes, and on