Oh, dearest! do promise me to forget all my malicious sayings just as quickly as possible, and to believe that I had long been convinced of the critical state of my heart, even before this bad man confessed his feelings to me. I did not write you anything about it, because I naturally regarded the matter as a wretched piece of stupidity on the part of this above-mentioned heart, and even now I can't quite believe in it. You know I never was very lucky in regard to real happiness. And for that reason I haven't much faith even now; if it is true that he loves me to distraction, as he declares he does, I feel convinced I shan't get any enjoyment out of it, and he will be sure to get killed, for he is going off to the war as a volunteer nurse. And yet I have not tried to dissuade him from taking this manly step. You remember that my chief objection to him was that he wasn't quite manly enough. And now, after all, his love is to be put to the test of fire, and we shall see whether he will bring it home uninjured from the smoke and horror of battle! How shall I bear the separation! I shall paint a few poor pictures and get a few gray hairs, and then when he comes back he will realize clearly what a mistake he has made. But, as God wills! I'll bear it quietly. The times are so great, who has the right to think of his or her poor person? All is enthusiasm; Elfinger is going too (his little nun seems to have driven him to desperation), and, what will rejoice you, Schnetz has joined his old regiment again, and looks upon life like a new man. It touched me to hear our good Kohle, who paid me a visit this morning, curse his poor health, which shut him out from all the hardships of war. He has designed a splendid tableau: Germania on the summit of the Lurlei rock, from which she has cast down the enchantress in order to excite all her sons to battle against the enemy by her song of triumph. Rossel, who, of course, would be perfectly useless away from his rocking-chair, has at least subscribed a thousand gulden for the benefit of the wounded. Every one according to his strength. I shall make lint of my paint rags, and sacrifice my heart's blood for the cause in another way. Farewell! Rejoice in your unclouded, paradisaical, peaceful life in the beautiful South; and write to me soon, dearest, beautifullest, happiest, only sister mine! Rosenbusch wishes to be remembered. A fortnight more--and then in this whole house, where so many dear ones have lived and labored, there will beat but one lonely heart--that of your Angelica." CHAPTER V. When that old earth-shaker Vesuvius grows tired of his peaceful slumbers and, breaking out into sudden fury, lights up the night far and wide with his flaming torch, till all around is bathed in purple-- "In Capri the Marina And Naples Day and Mergellina,"