"Do you recollect his name?" "No; but perhaps you know him--a young man in a violet velvet jacket." Schnetz gave a loud laugh. "Why do you laugh?" "I beg a thousand pardons, Fräulein--it really is not a matter to be laughed at. This honest fellow--our secret poet--I know him down to the very folds in his historical velvet jacket. What, in the name of wonder, were the thorns that this Rosebud presented for you to scratch your delicate skin upon?" "I must submit to let you think me a prudish fool, who takes offense at every light word, Herr von Schnetz," said she, with some asperity. "I do not care to repeat the conversation of your friend. If he is one of the most inoffensive of men, I would rather avoid a place where one is forced to meet people of his stamp at every step." She turned away and stepped to the window. "My dearest Fräulein," she now heard Schnetz's voice say behind her, "you are ill, seriously ill; I don't know whether in body; but certainly there is a wounded spot somewhere in your mental organization." She turned round upon him quickly. "I must confess, Herr von Schnetz," she said, with her proudest look, "I really do not understand--" "A sick person is very often unconscious that anything is wrong with him," continued Schnetz, unmoved, pulling at his imperial. "But it is impossible that you could have seen this picture of the most innocent of all mortals in such distortion, unless your eye had been clouded by illness. My dear Fräulein--no, don't look at me so ungraciously; you cannot deceive me by so doing; and at the risk of incurring your direful wrath, I don't see why you shouldn't listen to an honest word from a fatherly friend. I do not know whether you have many other friends; but, as far as I know, there is no one here who takes a more cordial interest in you than my not particularly attractive self--no one in whom you could more safely confide. Dearest Fräulein, if you would only consent to open that proud little mouth and tell me whether I can help you; whether what you experienced last night--for it is impossible that it is friend Rosenbusch who has suddenly given you such a distaste for your stay in this city--" "Thank you," she said, interrupting him suddenly; "I believe you mean kindly toward me. Here is my hand on it; and, if I ever need counsel or help, you shall be the first and only man to whom I will turn. But you are mistaken if you think I--I--" She suddenly checked herself, her eyes filled with heavy drops, and her voice failed her; but she controlled herself, and smiled upon him so kindly that he could not help admiring the brave young heart. "All the better," he said. "I am too well bred to doubt the word of a lady. And the assurance you give me is so precious--"