“It seems like a dream all that you tell me of Kate. Is she still in Italy, and where? Would she write to me? I am ashamed to ask the question of herself. They spoke of our brigade being sent to Lombardy; but even there I might be far away from her; and if near, in the very same city, our stations would separate us still more widely. Oh, Nelly! is it worth all the success ever ambition the most successful won, thus to tear up the ties of family, and make brothers and sisters strangers? Would that I were back again with you, and dearest Kate, too! I see no future here; the dull round of daily discipline, teaching nothing but obedience, shuts out speculation and hope! Where are the glorious enterprises, the splendid chances I often dreamed of? My happiest moments now are recalling the past; the long winter evenings beside the hearth, while Hans was reading out to us. There are rumors of great changes in the world of Europe; but to us they are only the thunderings of a distant storm, to break out in what quarter we know not. Oh, Nelly! if it should lead to war! if some glorious struggle were to break in upon this sluggish apathy! “Adolf has sent again for this letter, so I must close it He will not, he says, pass through Baden, but will post this in Munich--so good-bye, dearest sister. Tell poor papa all that you dare to tell of me, and farewell. “Frank Dalton. “When you write it must be under cover to the 'Herr Hauptman von Gauss, 2ten Compagnie, 3 Linien Bataillon, Franz Carl Infanterie.' Don't forget this long address, nor to add a line to the captain himself, who is a good-looking fellow, but somewhat conceited. “I have just heard old Auersberg is to have a command again. I 'm heartily sorry for it. So much for family influence!” If the reader's patience has lasted through this long letter of Frank's, it was more than Peter Dalton's did. For what between his ecstasy at Kate's good fortune, his own rambling speculations on all that should follow from it, and, above all, what from the slurring monotonous tone in which Nelly passed over such portions as she did not wish him to hear, he grew gradually more abstracted and dreamy, and at last fell off into a deep and most happy slumber. Not a syllable did he hear of the old Feld's reception of Frank; nor did he even awake as little Hans stumped into the room, with a staff in either hand,--aids that, since his accident, he could never dispense with. “I heard that you had letters, Fräulein,” said he. “Do they bring good tidings?” “Some would call them so, Hanserl,” said she, with a sigh. “Kate is about to be married.” Hanserl made no reply, but sat slowly down, and crossed his arms before him. “The great Russian Prince Midchekoff, of whom you may have heard.” “I have seen him, Fräulein; he was here in Baden, three years ago.”