"_Festina lente_," cried the minister, upon whom the wine began to tell a little. "We shall not meet again as young as we are now. A good glass of wine is a thing not to be treated lightly, and Gustava is too generous to shorten our enjoyment. But the Bible tells us, that of every good thing there are three; so let us have a third bottle." ... "But, Jager, the coffee is getting cold," cried the piercing voice of Primula Veris from the garden through the open window. "We are coming, we are coming," replied the obedient husband. "I give thanks for you and me, my dear young friend"--and with these words he embraced Oswald; "my dear friend"--another embrace--"and----" "But we forget that coffee is waiting for us," said Oswald, barely escaping a third embrace and making his way to the garden, while the minister, before following his guest, quickly poured the last contents of the bottle into a glass and emptied it in a hurry, probably giving thanks only for himself this time. The garden was not exactly the most pleasant place in the world at that hour of the day. The plantations were quite young yet; the small trees scarcely as high as a man, and the garden appeared, therefore, most prosaic and bare, affording no shadow anywhere. Oswald could not help comparing it to the theology of his reverend host, even with regard to the eminent place given here also to the practically useful. For the vegetables were flourishing, while flowers were few and far between; a few sun-flowers alone recalled the appearance of Primula Veris, and by their tendency to turn always towards the sun, in whatever part of the heavens it might stand, the practical philosophy of her illustrious husband. Fortunately, the bower in which coffee was served was thickly overgrown with jessamine and afforded a welcome shelter against the sun, whose rays were burning fiercely. Here they found the minister's wife, with a work-basket by her side, in which Oswald discovered, with some anticipation of evil, a small volume amid a host of sewing materials. "Woe is me," he said to himself, "if that be a collection of Primula's poems, taken from the magazines to which she contributes!" He tried to interest the minister in his vegetables; he insisted upon examining himself the great improvements which his host had made in beehives; at last he spoke of the necessity which forced him to take his leave at once--in fine, he did all that a man in his critical situation can do, but all in vain!