Fred was a very good-hearted young fellow and wished the whole world to be as happy as he was himself. His intentions were good but his actions were foolish. He had never gone back to see his aunt at Gürlitz. It made him cross to think of the wretched day when he had been forbidden to show his feelings to Louisa, and yet he daily lived over again all that had passed on that occasion. Bitter as the thought was, it was not long before gall was added to the draught he had to drink--And by whom was this added?--By Frank!--During the whole of that spring Frank went to Gürlitz whenever he had time, and in summer when the three Miss von Rambows came to Pümpelhagen, Louisa used to go and see them very often, and when she was there Frank was never far away, while he--our poor Fred, was not with them, and had to content himself with envying them from a distance. I did not mean to say, and I am sure that no one who reads this book would ever imagine that Fred was mean and wicked enough to be spying and prying into what did not concern him, but he would have been very stupid if he had not suspected what Frank was about. And this was quite right and proper, a young man who is really in love ought to feel the pangs of jealousy, for jealousy is a necessary ingredient in the tender passion, and I always look upon any man the course of whose love is utterly unruffled by anxiety or by the presence of a rival as very like my neighbour Mr. Hamann, who is in the habit of riding with only one spur. Frank was the rival in this case, and Fred regarded him as such, and before long had put him in the same category as his aunt and Mary Möller, he never addressed him and kept all his conversation for his future father-in-law.