"It is too small for a bandage," she said, sorrowfully; "we must put your own over it. This has been a disagreeable day, Doctor. Oh, forget it, and do not be angry with me." The Doctor was by no means inclined to be angry, as might be perceived from the eager conversation into which they now fell. Their hearts were lightened; they vied with each other in their efforts at sincerity; and when the carriage set them down at their own doors, they bade each other a cordial good-night. The following morning, Mr. Hummel entered Laura's private room, and laid a blue paper upon the table. "There was a mistake yesterday," he said; "here is what belongs to you." Laura opened the paper quickly; it contained an embroidered handkerchief. "I have also sent back the gloves to the Doctor, with my compliments, informing him that there was a misunderstanding, and that _I_, your father, Hummel, sent him what was his own." "Father," cried Laura, going up to him, "this new insult was unnecessary. Upon me you may inflict whatever your hatred to your neighbors prompts you to do, but that you should again wound another after what has happened yesterday, is cruel of you. This handkerchief belongs to the Doctor, and I shall give it to him at the first opportunity." "Exactly," said Hummel; "was it not hemmed and embroidered by your own hands? You are responsible for whatever you do now. But you know, and he knows too, how I feel about these exchanges of civilities. If you choose to act contrary to my expressed wishes, you may. I will not consent to our house being upon terms of exchanging presents, either small or great, with the Hahn's; and since you, as I hear, often meet the Doctor at our lodger's, it will be as well for you to bear this in mind." He went out of the room complacently, and left his daughter in revolt against his harsh commands. She had not ventured to contradict him, for he was unusually calm to-day, different from his ordinary blustering manner, and she felt there was a meaning in his words that checked her utterance and sent the blood to her cheeks. It was a stormy morning for her journal. Mr. Hummel was busy at his office with a consignment of soldiers' caps, when he was disturbed by a knock at the door, and to his surprise, Fritz Hahn entered. Hummel remained seated with dignity, till his caller had made a respectful bow, then he slowly rose, and began, in a business tone: "What can I do for you, Doctor? If you need a fine felt hat, as I presume you do, the salesroom is on the floor below." "I know that," replied the Doctor, politely. "But I am come, in the first place, to thank you for the handkerchief you so kindly selected and sent me as a present yesterday." "That's pretty good!" said Hummel. "Old Bluecher was painted upon it; he is a countryman of mine, and I thought on that account the handkerchief would be acceptable to you."