"I will be frank with you. From sheer ennui I had begun at Grenwitz already to pay her some attentions, and afterwards, during my sickness, I saw still more of the little thing, till it ended in my thinking the girl really very charming and prodigiously attractive. But she pretended to be so very reserved that I suspected at once she had a serious attachment. Now I cannot think of any one else who could have been in my way but yourself." "Very complimentary," said Albert. "I am, indeed, as good as engaged to the young lady." "But, Timm, are you going to run into your ruin with your eyes open? You and a wife! and worse than that, a poor wife!--what has become of your former principles? Upon my word, I should not have thought you could be so mad." "Nor I, myself," replied Albert, emptying his glass and filling it again. "Are you in love with the girl?" "There you ask me more than I know myself." "Look here, Timm, I will make you an offer. We are, it seems, in the way of speculating. Let me have the girl, and I assume the three hundred dollars which you have borrowed from the poor little thing." "Who says so?" said Albert, furiously. "Your fury just now, for one; besides that, however, little Louisa, Helen's maid, and my own man's lady love, who happened to see it, when Marguerite gave you the money in the park at Grenwitz." "Nonsense!" said Albert, who could not repress his anger at this inconvenient exposure. "Don't be angry!" said Felix; "rather be glad that you find somebody who is willing to relieve you of this troublesome burden. What do you say?" "We will talk about that another time," said Albert, rising and taking his hat. "Farewell, Grenwitz." "Good-by, Timm! Be reasonable, and come and see your old comrade as soon as you can." The worthy pair shook hands, and Albert went away rapidly. His face was darker than when he came. Either the second part of the conversation had not been to his taste, or he thought it good policy to assume an air of being offended. Felix, who knew him pretty well from former days, was disposed to take the latter view. CHAPTER XIV. About the same time, and while these transactions were going on in the Grenwitz mansion, a young man was impatiently walking up and down in front of a large house in one of the suburbs of Grunwald. His impatience looked very much like that of an honest lover who is waiting on a cool autumn evening in a dense fog for the lady of his heart, whom he has orders to call for "punctually at seven, but be sure to be punctual," to see her home from a little party, and whom he sees at half-past seven sitting near the brightly-lighted-up window, engaged in most lively conversation. It may be he sees really her whom he loves; it maybe the shadow belongs to a very different person.