"May I be permitted to offer the gentlemen some slight refreshment?" asked Brigitta with old-fashioned formality; for etiquette in the country is like the fashion of dress, which follows at a long distance the fashion of the city,--so that a form of polite expression is used in the country long after it has ceased to be _bon genre_ in town. And yet there is something touching in all those old-time phrases and customs that we remember as used by our grandparents and great-aunts and uncles. They suggest so vividly the images of the departed, and bring back the memories of childhood. Who has not in early childhood seen some old aunt or grandmother, upon refusing a fifth cup of coffee, turn the cup upside down in the saucer and lay the spoon carefully upon it? And when, twenty or thirty years after, we see some country pastor's or schoolmaster's wife go through the same ceremony, does not the dear old form, long ago laid at rest in the grave, rise before us to check the smile upon our lips? Who cannot remember as a child the friendly sympathy that greeted a satisfactory sneeze? And when, a quarter of a century later, some kindly country soul hails such an occurrence with a cordial "God bless you!" does it not seem as if we must reply as formerly, "Thanks, dear grandmamma," and are we not homesick for a moment for our good old grandmother? Such was the impression made upon the young men by the kindly formality, the officious hospitality, of the schoolmaster's good old wife. "I pray you honour us by tasting our poor meal," she said, as she put a coarse thick napkin of her own spinning upon each plate. After the conversation that they had just had with the unfortunate husband, the two young men had little appetite for eating or drinking; but they would not refuse the old woman's kindly hospitality, and therefore seated themselves at the clumsy table. For one moment there was a silence so profound that the tick of the death-watch in the bench by the stove could be plainly heard. Then the schoolmaster poured out the wine. His hand trembled slightly, and he was obliged to take care lest any of it should be spilled; for he could not see well when the glasses were full. Then, holding up his own glass, he said cheerily, "Long life to you, gentlemen, and to our noble German science! I drink to you." They clinked their glasses; but it cut Hilsborn to the very soul to think that the science which their good old host was so lauding should have been so cruel a prophet to him a few minutes before. Johannes, too, looked down at the wineglass in his hand, and the drops that he tasted from it were bitter to swallow. "Come, good wife, clink your glass with mine," said the old man to Frau Brigitta. "My wife is very fond of a little drop of wine," he said to his guests; "but we never indulge in it except when we have such honoured guests as sit around our table to-day." "And why not?" asked Hilsborn.