"Have you reached a decision yet as to your way of living in the future?" Lilly did not reply. She was fully determined to reject every offer on this point. But it is heavenly to have someone begging of you; you feel you are of some value in the world. "If I had the right to make a choice for you," he continued in his modest, prim way, "I think I could find a little corner that you would delight in." "I'm not so sure of that," she rejoined, half in jest. "You seem to assume that our tastes are absolutely similar." "Oh, no! I'm not so presumptuous. But recently I saw an apartment that I think would please you, unless I'm very much mistaken. It belongs to a lady customer of mine who left town." "What a pity! I should like to have seen it, if for no other reason than to find out whether you have a correct estimate of me." He reflected. "I think it can be arranged. I think I can take you to see it. The maid, to be sure, won't be in, because it's Sunday, but the porter's wife knows me and will give me the key. So if you want to--" Lilly hesitated to force herself into the home of an absolute stranger, but Mr. Dehnicke overbore her objections, summoned a cab, and ordered that they be driven to the western section of the city, where the houses are statelier and the people look more aristocratic and a row of glorious chestnut trees planted in velvety grass hang over the blue waters of a canal. "Oh, what a joy it must be to live here!" she cried. The cab drew up at a corner house on the "Königin-Augusta-Ufer." Dehnicke went to the porter's lodge and spoke a few words through the window. A key was handed to him, and he led Lilly up the carpeted stairs of carved oak. How easy to ascend them, and how different from the bare flagging at home, which hurt one's feet. He stopped at a door on the second floor, and politely rang in case the maid should be in after all. But no one answered the ring, so he unlocked the door with the key. In the meanwhile Lilly tried to read the name posted alongside the door on a porcelain plate, but unsuccessfully, owing to the dim lighting in the halls. They entered a narrow, dark anteroom smelling of fresh paint, and passed through it to a room with one window. Here tall closets with glass doors curtained with green silk were ranged against the walls. The furniture consisted of nothing but two armchairs, a few small gilt chairs, and a large, dark, highly polished dining-table. "This is really a dining-room," said Mr. Dehnicke. "But it wouldn't be bad for a sample room and private studio for you." Lilly, who would have enjoyed contradicting him, was compelled to agree. Adjoining the dining-room on the right was the bedroom with strawberry-colored cretonne drapery, old rose enamelled furniture, and a broad, canopied bed with a puffy silk counterpane and curtains held together by a dull gold seven-pointed coronet. "Does your customer belong to the nobility?" asked Lilly, seized by a vague feeling of envy.