While we were drinking our coffee, I had at last a long talk with Björnson. I can forgive him for not calling upon me, for he has not a moment of rest. He is regarded as a universal counselor. Young poets bring him their manuscripts; young women aspirants to a theatrical career play their heroine rôles before him; and he is incapable of refusing any one. Speaking of the artisans who had just been singing, he told me that in his country this class took more interest than the higher strata of society, in intellectual things. “I was recognized by them,” he said, “much earlier than by the so-called intelligent class.” “And isn’t it true,” I asked, “that the peasants here are very advanced? I hear that there are no illiterate among them.” “Oh, the peasants,” cried Björnson, “they are the foundation of our kingdom; they are its pillars.” We made the return journey from Norway in Bloch’s company, though indeed only as far as Berlin. There our paths diverged, Bloch going to Warsaw and we to Vienna and Harmannsdorf. Here sad news and joyous news awaited us. My Aunt Büschel, seventy-nine years old, whom I was in the habit of visiting every week at Eggenburg near by, to talk with her about old times, about Elvira, and about my mother,—had peacefully passed away during our absence. She had a short illness, and was cared for by my relatives. With her death the last link that connected me with the days of my youth was broken. The joyous event was a betrothal. On the day after our return the whole family from the neighboring Stockern drove over to Harmannsdorf accompanied by a young cousin, Baron Johann Baptist Moser. All wore mysterious looks as they whispered together and put on such strange expressions! When we were gathered together at lunch, and dessert was served, my brother-in-law Richard suddenly rose and, portentously clearing his throat, said,— “My dear friends, I hereby inform you that yesterday evening my dear daughter Margarete and my dear nephew Moser became engaged.” Universal jubilation, and I myself felt the tears of joy coming into my eyes, for I had long cherished the desire that these dearly beloved young folks, who were so admirably suited to each other, should strike up a match, and so the news brought keen delight to me. I had no lack of work to do. The interrupted Hague diary had to be finished; likewise the reports for my periodical. This, by the way, was to cease publication at the end of the year and to be absorbed by the _Friedenswarte_, edited by A. H. Fried, whose regular collaborator I am up to the present time. One day I received several copies of the _Budapester Tagblatt_ containing an excellent article by Count Albert Apponyi, who gave in it a very favorable report regarding the Hague Conference, and made the suggestion for a press league, to be associated with the Interparliamentary Union. I thanked the count for sending me the papers and praised the idea. In answer I received the following letter: