But in spite of these hospitable words, the effect of which was seriously impaired by the evident excitement of the speaker, and in spite of the first notes of the orchestra, which began with a truly fearful discord, very few only were disposed to continue the ball. All the others discovered suddenly that it was quite late, that they had been much longer at table than they imagined, and that it would be unwarrantable to continue festivities in which the hostess herself could take no part--and all the phrases of that kind with which people try to excuse their retreat when they have once determined to leave. One carriage after the other drove up to the door. Mothers looked for their daughters; these for their shawls and fans; everybody was making ready, saying good-by, dropping here a loud joke, there a malicious remark, and at times a stealthy word of love.--Oswald hardly saw anything else but the form of the pretty, impassioned child who had become so dear to him in a few moments.--Love is such a very strange thing that even the mere consciousness of having set loose the supernatural power in others suffices to awaken in us a sensation, which may not be love itself, but which resembles love most strikingly. Love itself is a mirror which reflects our image beautified, so that even the wisest and the most modest cannot help feeling gratified at the sight. Love makes gods of us, and we would not be men, would not be brothers of Phaëton and Ixion, if we did not all of us desire once upon a time to play the god, or at least to dine for once at the table of the gods. But what nectar can be as sweet as the kisses from the dewy lips of a young, lovely creature? as the glances from the eyes of a girl whose bosom swells, for the first time in her life, with loving longing?--as her words, confused and yet so intelligible, like the twittering of a young bird, who would like to break forth in full melodies and still cannot find the right notes _as yet_. And Oswald had felt the touch of such lips; Oswald saw such young, beaming eyes rise to his full of bliss, and Oswald heard such low, love-breathing words. Was it a wonder that he spent the last few minutes of his interview with her in giving love for love; that he looked forward to the moment of parting with hardly less dread than she herself, who nearly broke out in tears when her carriage was announced? Emily had availed herself of the opportunity, when Oswald led her back to her aunt, to present him to this lady, who stood to her in her mother's place. A few clever and complimentary words had quickly won him the favor of the matron, who liked nothing better, thoroughly kind-hearted as she was, than to laugh a little at other people's expense. She also invited Oswald to come and see her very soon at Candelin (the estate of Emil's father, who was laid up with the gout, and could not go out).