one know that they were on
the brink of misery."

Richard remembered his remark on the former occasion, and wondered at
his sudden change of opinion.

"I wish them all happiness," said he.

"Amen!" answered Lutz. "Richard, however, considers happiness in
matrimony possible. So we may hope that he will not always remain a
bachelor. How is the Angel of Salingen? Have you seen her since that
encounter with the steer?"

"The angel is well," said Richard, avoiding the glance of his friend.

"What do you mean by the 'Angel of Salingen'?" said the father.

"Thereby I understand the unmarried daughter of Herr Siegwart, of
Salingen, named Angela, who richly deserves to be called the 'Angel of
Salingen.'"

Frank knit his brows darkly and drummed on his knees.

"And the encounter with the steer?" continued he.

The professor related the occurrence.

"Ah! you did not tell me any thing of that," said the father, turning
to Frank. "An act of such great courage deserves to be mentioned."

The carriage passed into the court of a stately mansion. The servant
sprang from his seat and opened the carriage-door. The professor looked
at his watch.

"Herr Frank, will you allow your coachman to drive me to the
university? I must be at my post in ten minutes. I cannot go on foot in
that time."

"With pleasure, Herr Professor."

"Richard," said the other friend, "shall we meet at the opera tonight?"

"Scarcely. I must to-day enter upon my usual business."

"Come, if possible. The evening promises great amusement, for the
celebrated Santinilli dances."

The accustomed routine of business began for Richard. He sat in the
counting-room and worked with his habitual punctuality. Nevertheless
invidious spirits lured him toward Salingen, so that the figures
danced before his eyes, words had no meaning, and he was often lost in
day-dreams. The watchful father had observed this, and was perplexed.

Richard's plan of studies also underwent a change. He left the house
regularly at half-past five and returned at half-past six. The father,
desiring to know what this meant, set the faithful Jacob on the watch.

"Herr Richard," reported the spy, "hears mass at the Capuchins."

Frank drummed a march on his knees.

"So, so!" he hummed. "The ultramontanes understand proselytizing. They
have turned the head of my son. If I live long enough, I may yet see
him turn Capuchin, build a cloister, and go about begging."

When Herr Frank entere