“Well, I deem it a great piece of good-fortune to have fallen in with you,” said Conrad. “For, although I don’t believe in spirits coming back to molest those who occupy their former abodes, yet, really, to have passed a night here alone might have made my flesh creep. How old is Loewenstein, do you know?” Ulrich, who knew pretty well the whole history of his house, now proceeded to relate it, briefly of course; yet he told enough to make the other long to hear more. And when he had finished Conrad said: “Although I am an ardent believer in the aristocracy of nature, nevertheless I feel all the more drawn to you for being a Von Loewenstein.” After a pause he added: “I wonder who my Dream will turn out to be? Will she appreciate dwelling in a castle? Oh! yes, I am sure she will.” And Conrad went on to tell again of Walburga’s look of rapture as she stood at her easel, and of her tall, graceful figure: “I am sure, too, her hair is all her own; in fact, every part of her is as classic as her face.” While he thus gave utterance to his admiration for Ulrich’s sister Ulrich’s heart was in a flutter, and he could not help thinking what happiness ’twould be if Walburga were one day to become mistress of Loewenstein. Yet at the same time he thought it not a little strange that Conrad should express such unbounded admiration for one who did not expect, any more than he did himself, that ever a man would wish her for his bride. “But tell me,” pursued Conrad, twitching his sleeve, “is there no dear girl whom you have fallen in love with? Artists, of all men, you know, are the most prone to the tender passion.” “Oh! indeed there is,” answered Ulrich—“as sweet a girl as ever breathed. Once a week she writes to me and I to her.” “Well, who is she? Where does she live?” “In Munich, sir. Her name is Moida Hofer; and, although of peasant descent, I call her noble, for many of our mountaineers have owned their rough acres for generations, and, moreover, Moida’s grandfather was Hofer the Patriot.” “Really! Oh! then, don’t let her slip; marry her by all means, for she belongs to my nobility,” exclaimed Conrad with enthusiasm. “And of course she is beautiful?” “Every girl, sir, is beautiful when a man loves her; and I detest Greek noses and Roman noses since I have known Moida, for she hasn’t one.” Here the other burst into a loud laugh, which frightened away a couple of bats that had been circling about their heads; for bats and swallows, as well as owls and hawks, found their way into this ancient chamber, which had not been occupied till now since Ulrich and his sister left it as children.