"You're right," he smilingly interrupted, "it would be too much to expect you to carry honesty so far. Therefore please say nothing, but let me tell you that this miserable obstacle does not really stand in the way, or rather that it will scarcely be an obstacle after a few weeks longer. I've asked our physician on his conscience--and fortunately he has one, so that I might even have believed a different answer than the one he gave. The poor mortal who stands before you, will soon be obliged to leave vacant even the modest place he now occupies in the world. Edwin of course has no suspicion of this; we are all accustomed to think even the inevitable improbable, if it's coming is long delayed. When it at last occurs, we try to accommodate ourselves to it as best we may. Edwin will get over his grief in time. For my part--I confess, dear Fräulein, I find the world very beautiful. I should have liked to continued your acquaintance too. But one must not be grasping; I've enjoyed life so fully, in a condensed essence as it were, that I really ought not to complain if the portion allotted to me is already consumed." He paused, a calm smile resting on his lips. When he looked up, he saw that Toinette's eyes were full of tears. "Why do you weep?" he asked anxiously. "I hope my fate, which causes me anything but sorrow--" "No," she eagerly exclaimed, closing her eyes a moment as if to repress the tears. "I don't weep for you, dear Balder--pardon me for addressing you like an old friend or brother-you're not to be pitied, I _envy_ you your beautiful life and your still more beautiful death, even if it is as near as you believe; perhaps it may be farther off than you think; a man can endure much, and doctors are bad prophets. If my eyes grew moist, it was for myself, because I'm such a poor fool, that I must remain in debt to you and your brother for the offer of all the good and beautiful things you would fain give me but which I must nevertheless decline. Dear Balder, if you knew--but why should you know? If I'm unhappy, isn't it my only consolation to at least appear no worse than I am, explain why, with the best intentions, I cannot make those I love as happy as they deserve to be?