could not but impress even Nanny's unpoetical father. I might
have carried off the little jewel without the slightest trouble if I
could only have shown him a single cow, or some little historical
atrocity. But for battles there was 'no demand'--eternal peace lay
before us. How much did I make a year out of my old-fashioned art?
Well--I lied like a trooper, and mentioned some unheard of sum
for a man in my condition. Whereupon the monster laughed: he knew
an animal-painter who had made double that amount from a single
sheep's-head, in which, to be sure, you could distinctly perceive the
quality of the wool by looking at it through a magnifying-glass. It was
then that my temperament played me a shabby trick. I could not resist
the temptation to make a disrespectful pun[4]--one, moreover, that was
much too obvious to make it worth the while--and after this there was
no helping matters. Unfortunately we could distinctly hear a burst of
laughter, over my poor joke at papa's expense, proceeding from the
adjoining room. The author of it had apparently been unable to
withstand her maidenly curiosity, and had been listening to all that
had been said. But I--"

He checked himself suddenly. His eyes unconsciously wandered to the
windows across the street, and what he saw there caused him to forget
the end of his report.

A most charming girl made her appearance behind the window-pane, and
two little hands could be seen fastening a little straw-hat firmly on
the brown head; then the window was opened and the sky was eagerly
scanned, apparently in order to find out whether it threatened rain or
promised to be fair. At the window to the left a slim figure could also
be discerned, as it shut up some sewing in the drawer of the little
work-table, and then threw open the window so that the evening air
might benefit the flowers. But while the mischievous eyes of the
younger sister, in roving merrily about, lighted on Rosenbusch, who had
quickly stepped up to his window, and gave him a stolen glance in
passing, the second sister refrained from all such worldly arts and
immediately disappeared from the window, after having said something to
the younger which the spy opposite could not understand, in spite of
the windows being open.

"Elfinger," cried the painter, "it was a wrong conclusion after all.
The affair is not over yet by any means, and I am willing to bet that
the chapter we have just reached won't be the most tiresome one in