And when Blanden suggested that Cäcilie loved Dr. Kuhl, Wegen broke out into triumphant laughter. "No fear of that, my dear friend! She may like him for the sake of his strange ideas, but she thinks, like Homunculus, he only loves the fair sex in the plural; she prefers the singular, and all girls must vote for that! I do not remember now what sort of a part Homunculus played--." "He lives in the bottle," said Blanden, "and that is a new point of resemblance to Dr. Kuhl." "All the same," replied Wegen, "I use that term of mockery for him now, and I do not fear him." "He who offers his heart and hand to a girl, has an advantage over the lover who goes out in search of casual adventures. Cäcilie knows that my intentions are honest; I am certainly not so intellectual as the Doctor, but a few acres of good soil are worth more than a whole _orbis pictus_ of genius that floats up aloft in the air--girls are more practical than we think." "You may be right," replied Blanden, "many only make use of the throbs of their hearts to enable them to learn addition; but there are many exceptions, brilliant exceptions: there are girlish hearts which live and die in their love." With this last melancholy turn the conversation was interrupted for some time. Blanden thought of his Eva, and of the pain of seeing her again, and Wegen would not disturb his friend in such gloomy dreams. Blanden's heart beat violently when the roof of the homely inn gleamed forth beneath the trees. How often had he been there lately; but only sorrow for the dangerously sick girl then had filled his mind; to-day it was the anxious anticipation of a half longed-for, half-dreaded meeting that caused his spirit to be in such a state of vacillation. In the hope of encountering her on the forest paths, in the Wolfs-schlucht, or upon the Fuchs-spitze, he wandered along the shaded walks, but his hopes had been in vain. Arrived at the summit, he directed his glance towards the little fisherman's-cottage; the attic window, usually covered with curtains, stood open, and the afternoon sun streamed in with all its force. Eva had left the sick room. All around was silence, all seemed to be dead! What should he do? To seek the Regierungsräthin, and ask her about her daughter, was to him the most unwelcome course, because in that lady's eyes he must appear like a criminal, and he would not expose himself to her reproachful glance. It seemed best to contrive to get a little note conveyed to the daughter's hands, and to invite her to a walk to the Fuchs-spitze; half-witted Kätchen might serve as an unsuspected messenger.