lly with it, as one suggestive of pleasure; and when Ellen
placed unexpectedly a great flask of Margraer before them to drink the
young soldier's health, the zest and merriment rose to the highest. Nor
was old Andy forgotten in the general joy. A large bumper of wine was
put before him, and the door of the sitting-room left open, as if to let
him participate in the merry noises that prevailed there. How naturally,
and instinctively, too, their hopes gave color to all they said, as they
told each other that the occasion was a happy one! that dear Frank would
soon be an officer, and of course distinguished by the favor of some
one high in power; and lastly, they dwelt with such complacency on
the affectionate regard and influence of "Count Stephen" as certain
to secure the youth's advancement. They had often heard of the Count's
great military fame, and the esteem in which he was held by the Court of
Vienna; and now they speculated on the delight it would afford the old
warrior who had never been married himself to have one like Frank, to
assist by his patronage, and promote by his influence, and with such
enthusiasm did they discuss the point, that at last they actually
persuaded themselves that Frank's entering the service was a species of
devotion to his relative's interest, by affording him an object worthy
of his regard and affection.

While Ellen loved to dwell upon the great advantages of one who should
be like a father to the boy, aiding him by wise counsel, and guiding him
in every difficulty, Kate preferred to fancy the Count introducing Frank
into all the brilliant society of the splendid capital, presenting him
to those whose acquaintance was distinction, and at once launching him
into the world of fashion and enjoyment. The promptitude with which he
acceded to their father's application on Frank's behalf, was constantly
referred to as the evidence of his affectionate feeling for the family;
and if his one solitary letter was of the very briefest and driest of
all epistolary essays, they accounted for this very naturally by the
length of time which had elapsed since he had either spoken or written
his native language.

In the midst of these self-gratulations and pleasant fancies the door
opened, and Hans Roeckle appeared, covered from head to foot by a light
hoar-frost, that made him look like the figure with which an ingenious
confectioner sometimes decorates a cake. The dwarf stood staring at the
signs of a