Anton, however, now doubted whether she were really this. To him, too, the young lady of the house had been like the moon, only visible afar off, and on one side. Daily he sat opposite her, saw the delicate sadness of her face--the deep glance of her beautiful eyes--heard her speak the same commonplace sentences, and knew no more of her. All at once an accident made him her confidant. He felt sure, by many a token, that this grief was connected with Fink; and although he had for him the devoted admiration that an unsophisticated youth readily bestows upon a daring and experienced comrade, yet, in this case, he found himself enlisted on the lady's side against his friend; he resolved to watch him narrowly, and be to her a brotherly protector, a faithful confidant--all, in short, that was sympathizing and helpful. A few hours later, Sabine sat in the window with folded hands. Her brother had laid aside his newspaper, and was watching her anxiously. At last he rose, stepped silently up to her, and laid his hand on her head. She clasped him in her arms. There they stood, leaning against each other, two friends who had so shared their lives that each knew the other's thoughts without a spoken word. Tenderly stroking his sister's hair, the merchant began: "You know what large dealings we have with Fink's father?" "I know that you are not satisfied with the son." "I could not help taking him into our house, but I regret the hour I did so." "Do not be hard upon him," pleaded the sister, kissing her brother's hand; "think how much there is that is noble in his character." "I am not unjust toward him. But it is yet to be proved whether he will be a blessing or a curse to his fellow-men. He may become a more paltry aristocrat, who wastes his energies in refined self-indulgence, or a covetous, unscrupulous money-maker, like his uncle in America." "He is not heartless!" murmured Sabine; "his friendship for Wohlfart shows that." "He does but play with him--throws him into the water, and picks him out again." "Nay," cried Sabine; "he esteems his good sense and high principles, and feels that he has a better nature than his own." "Do not deceive yourself and me," replied the merchant; "I know the fascination that this strange man has long had for you. I have said nothing, for I could trust you. But, now that I see that he makes you really unhappy, I can not but wish for his absence. He shall leave our house without delay."