with his processes, but at the same time Iwould have seen that no material injuries should result to any membersof this family."
"That was very kind of you," I said, at which my wife looked at mesomewhat reproachingly.
"If he really intended it," she remarked, "and I do not see why that wasnot the case, it was kind in him."
"As for me," said Aunt Martha, very sympathetically, "I think that thestudy of Realism may be carried a great deal too far. I do not thinkthat there is the slightest necessity for people to know anything aboutburglars. If people keep talking and reading about diseases they willget them, and if they keep talking and reading about crimes they willfind that iniquity is catching, the same as some other things. Besides,this realistic description gets to be very tiresome. If you really wantto be a writer, young man, why don't you try your hand on some originalcomposition? Then you might write something which would be interesting."
"Ah, madam," said the young man, casting his eyes on the floor, "itwould be far beyond my power to write anything more wonderful than whatI have known and seen! If I may tell you some of the things which havehappened to me, you will understand why I have become convinced that inthis world of realities imagination must always take a second place."
"Of course we want to hear your story," said Aunt Martha; "that is whatwe are here for."
"If I was unbound," said the young man, looking at me, "I could speakmore freely."
"No doubt of it," said I; "but perhaps you might run away before youfinished your story. I wouldn't have that happen for the world."
"Don't make fun of him," said Aunt Martha. "I was going to ask you tocut him loose, but after what you say I think it would perhaps be justas well to keep them all tied until the narratives are completed."
With a sigh of resignation the young man began his story.
"I am American born, but my father, who was a civil engineer and of highrank in his profession, was obliged, when I was quite a small boy, to goto Austria, where he had made extensive contracts for the building ofrailroads. In that country I spent the greater part of my boyhood andyouth. There I was educated in the best schools, my father sparing nomoney to have me taught everything that a gentleman should know. Mymother died when I was a mere infant, and as my father's vocation madeit necessary for him to travel a great deal, my life was often a lonelyone. For society I depended entirely upon my fellow-scholars, my tutors,and masters. It was my father's intention, however, that when I hadfinished my studies I should go to one of the great capitals, there tomix with the world.
"But when this period arrived I was in no haste to avail myself of theadvantages he offered me. My tastes were studious, my dispositioncontemplative, and I was a lover of rural life.
"My father had leased an old castle in Carinthia, not far from themountains, and here he kept his books and charts, and here he came forrecreation and study whenever his arduous duties gave him a littlebreathing-spell. For several months I had lived at this castle, happywhen my father was with me and happy when I was alone. I expected soonto go to Vienna, where my father would introduce me to some of hisinfluential friends. But day by day I postponed the journey.
"Walking one morning a few miles from the castle, I saw at the edge of apiece of woodland a female figure seated beneath a tree. Approachingnearer, I perceived that she was young, and that she was sketching. Iwas surprised, for I knew that in this part of the world young women, atleast those of the upper classes, to which the costume and tastes ofthis one showed her to belong, were not allowed to wander about thecountry by themselves; but although I stood still and watched the younglady for some time, no companion appeared upon the scene.
"The path I had intended to take led past the piece of woodland, and Isaw no reason why I should diverge from my proposed course. Iaccordingly proceeded, and when I reached the young lady I bowed andraised my hat. I think that for some time she had perceived my approach,and she looked up at me with a face that was half merry, halfinquisitive, and perfectly charming. I cannot describe the effect whichher expression had upon me. I had never seen her before, but her lookwas not such a one as she would bestow upon a stranger. I had the mostpowerful desire to stop and speak to her, but having no right to do so,I should have passed on, had she not said to me, in the best of English,'Good-morning, sir.' Then I stopped, you may be sure. I was soaccustomed to speak to those I meet in either French or German that Iinvoluntarily said to her,'_Bon jour, Mademoiselle_.'--'You need notspeak French,' she said; 'I am neither English nor American, but I speakEnglish. Are you the gentleman who lives in Wulrick Castle? If so, weare neighbours, and I wish you would tell me why you live there all thetime alone.'
"At this I sat down by her. 'I am that person,' I said, and handed hermy card. 'But before I say any more, please tell me who you are.'--'I amMarie Dorfler. My father's house is on the other side of this piece ofwoodland; you cannot see it from here; this is part of his estate. Andnow tell me why you live all by yourself in that old ruin.'--'It is notaltogether a ruin,' I answered; 'part of it is in very good condition.'And then I proceeded to give her an account of my method of life and myreasons for it. 'It is interesting,' she said, 'but it is very odd.'--'Ido not think it half so odd,' I answered, 'as that you should be here byyourself.'--'That is truly an out-of-the-way sort of thing,' she said;'but just now I am doing out-of-the-way things. If I do not do them now,I shall never have the opportunity again. In two weeks I shall bemarried, and then I shall go to Prague, and everything will be by lineand rule. No more delightful rambles by myself. No more sitting quietlyin the woods watching the little birds and hares. No more making asketch just where I please, no matter whether the ground be damp ornot.'--'I wonder that you are allowed to do these things now,' Isaid.--'I am not allowed,' she answered. 'I do them in hours when I amsupposed to be painting flower pieces in an upper room.'--'But whenyou're married,' I said, 'your husband will be your companion in suchrambles.'--'Hardly,' she said, shrugging her shoulders; 'he will beforty-seven on the thirteenth of next month, which I believe is July,and he is a great deal more grizzled than my father, who is past fifty.He is very particular about all sorts of things, as I suppose he has tobe, as he is a Colonel of infantry. Nobody could possibly disapprove ofmy present performances more than he would.' I could not helpejaculating, 'Why, then, do you marry him?' She smiled at myearnestness. 'Oh, that is all arranged,' she said, 'and I have nothingto do with it. I have known for more than a year that I'm to marryColonel Kaldhein, but I cannot say that I have given myself much concernabout it until recently. It now occurs to me that if I expect to amusemyself in the way I best like I must lose no time doing so.' I looked atthe girl with earnest interest. 'It appears to me,' said I, 'that yourways of amusing yourself are very much like mine.'--'That is true,' shesaid, looking up with animation, 'they are. Is it not delightful to befree, to go where you like, and do what you please, without any one toadvise or interfere with you?'--'It is delightful,' said I; and for halfan hour we sat and talked about these delights and kindred subjects. Shewas much interested in our castle, and urged me to make a sketch of it,so that she may know what it now looked like. She had seen it when alittle girl, but never since, and had been afraid to wander very far inthis direction by herself. I told her that it would be far better forher to see the castle with her own eyes, and that I could conduct her toan eminence, not half a mile away, where she could have an excellentview of it. This plan greatly pleased her; but looking at her watch shesaid that it would be too late for her to go that morning, but if Ihappened to come that way the next day, and she should be there tofinish her sketch, she would be delighted to have me show her theeminence."
"I think," interrupted Aunt Martha, "that she was a very imprudent youngwoman."
"That may be," he replied, "but you must remember, madam, that up tothis time the young lady had been subjected to the most conventionaltrammels, and that her young nature had just burst out into temporaryfreedom and true life. It was the caged bird's flight into the brightsummer air."
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br /> "Just the kind of birds," said Aunt Martha, "that shouldn't be allowedto fly, at least until they are used to it. But you can go on with yourstory."
"Well," said the young man, "the next day we met I took her to thepiece of high ground I had mentioned, and she sketched the castle. Afterthat we met again and again, nearly every day. This sort of story tellsitself. I became madly in love with her, and I am sure she liked me verywell; at all events I was a companion