"I will manage that you have what you want. But the moon must not rise over the matrimonial scene till the preliminaries are settled. I will represent to the old lady what credit will accrue to her if her moon be exhibited and lectured on at the Dorpat University by so distinguished an astronomer as yourself. Then, be well assured, she will give you the wax moon along with her daughter." "Very well, I will do what I can. Only, further, explain to me the whole process, that I may learn it by heart. It seems to me as knotty to a beginner as Euler's proof of the Binomial Theorem." "It is very easy. Pay attention. You must begin to talk about the fascination which a domestic life exerts on you; you then say that the sight of such an united household as that in which you find yourself influences you profoundly." "I see. Causes a deflection in my perihelion. That deflection is calculable, the force excited calculable, the position of the attractive body estimable. I direct my telescope in the direction, and discover--Minna. Put astronomically, I can understand it." "But you must _not_ put it astronomically to her. Paint in glowing tints the charms of the domestic hearth--that is to say, of the stove. Touch sadly on your forlorn condition, your unloved heart--are you paying attention, or thinking of the moon?" "On the contrary, I was thinking of myself, from a planetary point of view. I see, a wife is a satellite revolving round her man. I see it all now. Jupiter has four." "Sigh; let the corners of your mouth droop. Throw, if you can, an emotional vibration into your tones, and say that hitherto life has been to you a school, where you have been set hard tasks; not a home. Here shake your head slowly, drop a tear if you can, and say again, in a low and thrilling voice, 'Not a home!' Now for the poetry. Till now, you add, you have looked into the starry vault--" "It is not a vault at all." "Never mind; say this. Till now you have looked into the starry vault for your heaven, and not dreamed that a heaven full of peaceful lights was twinkling invitingly about your feet. That is poetical, is it not? It must succeed." "Quite so, I should never have thought of it." "Then turn, and look into Miss Minna's eyes." "But suppose she is looking in another direction?" "She will not be. A lady is always ready to help a stumbling lover over the impediments in the way of a declaration. She will have her eyes at command, ready to meet yours." "Go on." "You will presently come to a rose tree. You must stop there and be silent. Then you must admire the roses, and beg Miss Minna to present you with one." "But I do not want any roses. What can I do with them? I am lodging at an hotel." "Never mind, you _must_ want one. When she has picked and offered it--" "But perhaps she will not." "Fiddlesticks! Of course she will. Then take the rose, press your lips to it, and burst forth into raptures." "Excuse me, how am I to do the raptures?"