was, with the exception of the loss of his wife, the one trouble of his life; he tried to submit himself to it, and to renounce the hope of domestic happiness for his child. The friend of Herr Merz now called to an army officer, a brother of his youngest daughter's husband, whom he had accidentally met on the boat, and introduced him to Herr Merz and Louise. They were making the circuit of the lake, and Louise was afraid that the evening, and perhaps a longer time, would be spoiled by this chance meeting, to which the beloved solitude would have to be sacrificed without any adequate compensation. As they neared a small bay of the lake they saw a bright house, with a newly laid out garden, that looked inviting. Louise heard it said that there was a landing-place here, and she begged her father to disembark. The place seemed so cheerful, so attractive; there was no time to consider the matter, the bell rang, Louise hastily raised her hand-bag, and induced her father to take his, the planks were shoved out, Louise and her father went ashore, and the luggage was landed after them. From the shore Herr Merz said good-by to his acquaintances, and Louise nodded a farewell to them, who stood looking on in surprise, and then quickly turned away. "Thank you, father," exclaimed Louise, drawing a long breath. "I don't know why it is, but it seems to me that I've dreamed of this place, just as it is, with the lake sparkling before it, the fountain bubbling up, the house shingled just like that, and the bell ringing as it's ringing now up there in the village. Oh, it is pleasant to know how many beautiful, quiet spots there are in the world!" The hostess came up and welcomed the strangers in French. She said, pointing to the house, that the two balcony rooms, in the corner commanding the finest view, had been left vacant that very day. Caspar, the factotum of the house, who proudly wore his high cap, with the name of the hotel embroidered on its band, nodded to the hostess with a glance which said, "They are people of rank; a man with three orders in his button-hole bowed to them from the steamboat." The house-dog, too, seemed to consider it his duty to greet the travelers; he settled himself before Louise, slowly winking his eyes as he looked at her; the hostess motioned him away, but Louise said she liked animals, and called him to her; he sprang briskly toward her, then ran back to his mistress, as if to say: "You see, the strangers like me directly, they know at once that I'm a good fellow!" Louise took her father's arm, and they went toward the house. In front of it two children were playing on a board. At one end, working a stick in the sand, as if rowing a boat, stood a boy, dressed in a red blouse, his legs bare from the ankles, covered by fine stockings, to the short trowsers, and wearing yellow shoes of the natural color of the leather. A little girl, in the picturesque costume of the province, sat on a stool at the other end of the board, and was begging the boatman to let her drink once from the lake. The boy assented with a gracious wave of the hand, and she bent low over the sand, as if drinking. Louise held her father back, saying, in a low voice, "Oh, what a charming picture!" She spoke to the children in French, and they answered in the same language, the boy with a sort of condescending politeness, the girl very prettily. Father and daughter went to their rooms,. which they found very pleasant. Louise left all the arrangements to Herr Merz, who asked about other inmates of the house, learning, in reply, that there was no danger of disturbance from them, as they were artists who spent the whole day strolling among the mountains. Louise stood on the balcony, pressing her hands to her breast, or stretching her arms out, as if she would fly. When her father joined her she exclaimed, "Oh, father, I feel as if pure happiness were pouring down upon me. I did not know there was such rest, such a dewy air to breathe in the world." "And you will find many pleasures here," her father replied. "There are five French painters with their wives and children in the house." CHAPTER X. A JOYFUL GREETING. THE quiet prospect from a firmly fixed dwelling is most refreshing after one has been for days viewing the swiftly passing scenery from the moving cars or the deck of a steamboat. With this feeling Louise and her father sat comfortably together on the balcony, looking out over the lake and toward the mountains. No sound was heard except the plashing of the fountain in the garden, sometimes broken by the shout of the children who were chasing each other on the shore. The sunset glow came over earth and sky, and the lake reflected the ever-varying tints. Night drew on, the village bells rang, the children hurried home. The boy in the red blouse allowed no one but himself to ring the house bell, which called the inmates together for supper. When Herr Merz and his daughter entered all eyes were turned toward them for a moment; but the conversation, carried on entirely in French, was quickly resumed. The father and daughter sat, in conformity with the usual rule, at the lower end of the table. the head appeared to be an old soldier, who wore a mustache, white like his closely cut hair. He turned to two ladies seated at his right and left, and nodded, as if pleased with the appearance of the new-comers. The person at The strangers felt that they had entered a circle of people forming a society of their own, and that they must wait to see what reception was given them. Opposite Louise sat a young man who spoke to no one. Louise then heard the hostess say that his corner room was no longer vacant, as a young lady and old gentleman had taken it that very day, but that they would probably not stay long. Was he shut out The boat came to land. A tall man, wearing from the circle, or did he hold back voluntari-a pointed hat, which he now lifted, greeted the ly? She could not decide. Before the meal people of the hotel and those who appeared at was over he left the hall as if angry, without the windows as he sprang ashore. In a loud bowing to any one. When the company rose voice he told them that, as there was now no Louise nodded to the two children who had night steamer to the place, and he had not met her so pleasantly on her arrival. In a po- chosen to wait in the neighborhood till the lite and easy manner their mother approached next day, he had taken a boat and rowed himher, and soon asked whether she had left chil- self over. dren at home, as she seemed so fond of them. Louise colored slightly as she answered in the negative. The company repaired to the reading and music rooms, and Louise followed. A few gentlemen moved toward the piazza and began to smoke, Herr Merz among them. As no one addressed him, he went alone to the garden, and along the lake shore, till he was joined by the gentleman who had sat at the head of the table, and who introduced himself as an officer from French Switzerland. He was the oldest regular guest of the house, and extolled the happy manner of life in it, saying that there was always a struggle in the minds of the inmates whether they should recommend the comfortable place for the sake of its worthy pro-hotel rates? prietor, fearing as they did that the comfort would be destroyed by a crowd of visitors. Louise, without staying long in the parlor, came to join her father, who introduced his daughter to the colonel. Louise asked what had been the matter with her discontentedlooking opposite neighbor at table. The colonel explained that he was a German physician accompanying a patient oppressed by a nervous melancholy, who never left his room. The young man was, of course, somewhat worn by the society of his patient, who never wished him to leave him; and, moreover, his discontent must be considerably increased from the fact that he did not speak French, and must feel himself excluded from the society in the house. The hostess had told Louise that the full moon would rise over the mountains about eleven o'clock, and that she ought not to miss the wonderful sight; Louise wanted to wait for moonrise, but both she and her father were so weary that they went to rest and were soon asleep. But Louise suddenly opened her eyes, awakened by the bright light of the full moon. She arose, stood at the window, and looked out at the wonderful landscape in its dreamy light, and at the lake reflecting the broad, bright beams of the moon. The new-comer entered the house, and his baggage was brought in after him. All became still again, the moon shone over mountains and the lake; all was quiet, but Louise felt her heart beat. What is this? Ah, we still meet strange events, like those related in old tales and legends. Is not this such an event, that a man should come floating over the moonlit lake, and that a joyful welcome should meet him? But how will it all look by daylight—in the midst of the prose of our world, with its fixed The fountain before the house plashed and bubbled, and it, too, sounded as if it had learned the cry, "Monsieur Edgar! Monsieur Edgar!" So it went on sounding till Louise went to sleep. CHAPTER XI. THE NEW NEIGHBOR. In the morning Louise did not wake until the breakfast-bell rang. Her father told her that he had taken a long walk in the neighborhood, and, in compliance with her wish, had sent a telegram to Lucerne ordering his letters and a daily journal to be sent to him here. Louise hardly knew what she had desired, sat up in bed and tried to collect her thoughts, whether she had been dreaming or it had been real. She begged her father to wait for her in the next room until she had dressed, but directly asked him through the closed door whether he had heard any thing of a Monsieur Edgar who had arrived during the night. "Why, yes," replied her father; "and every body is glad-the people of the inn, the guests, the waiters, and especially Caspar, who said to the cowherd: 'Now we shall have a jolly time! Monsieur Edgar is here!' And I heard him speak to the inn-keeper about their again building the bridge for him to-day." A boat was coming down the silver stream of light from the upper lake; in it sat a man, sending out a clear jodel into the moonlit night. The boat came nearer and nearer, the Louise wanted to tell her father that she had jodel grew louder, more animated and powerful; witnessed the man's arrival, and to ask him the house windows opened, voices of men and whether he had yet seen the bringer of so women cried: "Monsieur Edgar!" A shout, much joy, but she refrained. They soon went which rose like a rocket, answered from the into the breakfast-room, where breakfast was lake, and more and more madly and merrily served at small round tables. At one table the jodeled the man in the boat. The host and guests had all eyes directed to one person, and hostess, and the factotum Caspar, hastened to talked only with him; and in his lap were seatthe shore, calling out to each other: "Herred the boy with the red blouse and the little Edgar is coming!" and the dog barked. girl, who had on to-day a white dress. He was tall, with a dark complexion, thick | to bear them company, but, as she was not inheavy hair, and closely trimmed black beard. His voice was musical, and the expression of his countenance friendly; he now put up his eye-glass, which was lying before him on the table, and asked some question, in a low tone, of the mother of the two children. He had evidently asked about Louise and her father, for the answer was given in the same low tone, and all eyes turned toward father and daughter, who soon had the whole room to themselves, as the company went into the garden, where the new arrival, Monsieur Edgar, was leading the children back and forth by the hand. "Strange contradiction !" said Herr Merz to Louise. "The French, who have far less feeling for freedom than for equality, are foppishly fond of decorations-they wear their badges while they are traveling, and, of all the places in the world, here in the Swiss republic, where there are no badges or ribbons." "There may be some vanity at bottom," replied Louise, "but they may also feel it to be a duty to let it be seen that they are no ordinary men, and he appears to be an extraordinary man." "Who ?" "Herr Edgar. As I saw him last night I should never have believed that he would wear by daylight, in the presence of these mountains, where every thing of the kind seems so paltry, a decoration like that." She narrated to her father what had occurred, and there was a tone of depression in her voice as she added that nothing extraordinary would abide the light of common day. The hostess now entered, and, without being questioned by the two strangers, said that Monsieur Edgar was dearly beloved by every body; that he had come up there from Rome for several summers, had staid the last time five months, and had painted a splendid picture of the region. vited to do so, she passed on. It was silent in the house and in the garden, except that the two children were playing on the shore of the lake with the dog, who seemed to be fully aware of his duty to entertain the guests. Now came along the nervous invalid with his companion, and Louise and her father saluted them; but, as the invalid made a motion to excuse himself, they went on without joining their society. Louise went to her room, wishing to get her materials for painting, and find out some good point of view, but a peculiar shyness prevented her from doing it. How could she venture with her dilettante attempts in the vicinity of professional artists? She went with her father to the village, and they ascended a little elevation which was celébrated for its beautiful prospect. Her father was so fortunate as to find here a man who passed his summers in the village, and had before him a bundle of the latest newspapers. They easily became acquainted, and the man offered to supply Herr Merz with the daily papers. He had once been a highly respected member of the Swiss Confederate Assembly, and Herr Merz soon became engaged with him in a very animated discussion of politics, and was invited with his daughter to go into the small cottage, which the old man had fitted up comfortably; and, as all his children were married off, he was living in it alone with his wife. It was a refreshing glance into a quiet, retired life. When they left the house at noon, Herr Merz said: "We lose sight altogether of how little it takes to make us happy.' "Dear father, that is no little which these persons possess; they have undisturbed quiet, and a sufficient income, and these are no trifles." "Yes, yes," added her father; "if your mother were still living, and you had married, 1 Louise's father asked whether the woman and believe that your mother and I would have sethe two children belonged to him, and the host-lected just such a small house in some beautiess said no, adding that he was too jolly to be a ful spot; but if-if-that is a word one should married man, and made no account of the ladies, not allow himself to use." but liked children, and was foolishly fond of them. Louise inquired whether they could not see the points of view from which the artists now here were taking pictures. The hostess shrugged her shoulders, saying that painters were like the birds who flew to their nests in some roundabout course, so as not to betray the place where they were; that they took particular care not to be disturbed in their work; but, if any one found them out in their hiding-places, where they were busy, they could not help it. The men had all gone out, even the host and Caspar had disappeared. The mother of the two children was sitting with the rest of the women on the shady side of the house, occupied with some hand-work. Louise would have liked When they returned to the inn the company were just taking seats at the dinner-table. There was a lively discussion going on, because Monsieur Edgar did not want to have any change made in the previous arrangements. He resisted the general desire that he should sit at the upper part of the table among his friends; the president was the only one who said that he was in the right, and he took a seat, as the last comer, directly opposite Louise and next the physician, who looked sourly at him. There was nothing said at this part of the table, and the artists vanished as soon as the cloth was removed. In the afternoon Louise joined the ladies who remained in the house, while her father went with the acquaintance of the morning to visit a neighboring silk manufactory. When the artists returned at evening Louise was introduced to them, and also to Monsieur Edgar. After tea they assembled in the musicroom, and the mother of the two children sang some pleasant French songs, accompanying herself on the piano, while her sister, a slender girl with blonde locks, after much urging, played the violin. The sight of the violin-player and her beautiful motions was charming. Edgar's eye was fixed steadfastly upon her. Louise sat near her father, and whispered to him: "Don't you think that the violinist looks like Marie ?" Her father nodded. Monsieur Edgar now took a vacant seat by the side of Louise, and requested her to sing, or to play the piano. She declared that she had no musical talent, and the tone in which she said it was so sincere that he said he believed her, and was fully convinced that she did not out of affectation assume a modest diffidence. Louise expressed her thanks, but it struck her as rather strange that the man, who had seen so little of her, saw into the depths of her soul. She wanted to ask how he came to have so good an opinion of her, but she suppressed the question, for perhaps as she tried to persuade herself this was a new specimen of French politeness. To his remark, that he should have judged from her voice in speaking that she could sing, she replied, that in her younger years she did have something of a voice for singing, but it was so inferior that she had given up the practice. He continued the conversation, and in apt language upheld the claims of music as being the only unifying art. People of different nations and different social circles found in the realm of tones a point of oneness, which was high above all tongues, and was something universal. He added, jestingly: "If the people who were building the Tower of Babel had known how to sing, there would never have been the confusion of tongues." His manner of speaking was so simple and effective, and, whether in jest or earnest, was so much to the point, that there was plainly to be discerned not only social tact, but also deep and varied thought in many directions. Louise, who was in the habit of constructing the whole thought and sentiment in its entirety out of single expressions which came from the depths of conviction, looked with an expression of pleasure at the speaker; but he rose after a short time, seated himself by the violinist, and then went with his friends into the garden. Louise and the ladies soon followed. Jest and laughter in the soft moonlight were heard along the shore, mingled with the plashing of the waves of the lake. Louise felt at home in this circle of guests, and when she was alone with her father, congratulated him and herself on their good fortune in having stopped here. On the next morning the ex-representative appeared with his boat in front of the house, and sent the boatman to Herr Merz to invite him to take a sail far out on the lake and to catch some fish. The village pastor, a jolly comrade, who turned to good service his angling craft, was to be of the company. Louise ventured to take with her her little sketching-book concealed under her mantilla, and went by the road along the lake shore, then up a hill to a point where there was an extensive view, and, having made sure that there was no one in sight, began to sketch. At noon she returned from her work in excellent spirits, and there was much good-humor at the table, for the three men had had good luck in fishing, and their booty was a part of the dinner. The sky clouded over, but the painters were not detained from continuing their work. Caspar, who united to his other multifarious vocations that of an infallible weather prophet, predicted a severe storm for the evening, and they had hardly seated themselves at the teatable when it began to thunder and lighten. Only the ladies went into the music-room, but they did not venture to strike a note now, when the storm was raging so fearfully outside. The artists had gone out to view the bright flashes of lightning, and were only driven into the house by the pouring rain. CHAPTER XII. A JODEL-CALL AND A CRY OF DISTRESS. THE morning dawned bright, the trees and grass glistened in the sunlight, and the outlines of the mountains were sharply defined against the cloudless blue sky. Louise, followed by a boy who bore her painting materials, which she ventured to take, and equipped with a mountain-staff, ascended a spur of the hill not far from the inn. The brook, swollen by the recent rain, could be heard rushing along on one side of the footpath. She expected to find the bed of the brook higher up, and the farther she went the more courageous became her heart; she often turned round and gazed out upon the lake, and she was brimful of happiness. Now she stood upon a jutting cliff, whence the brook could be seen rushing below. She stopped, stuck the staff upright in the mossy soil, placed her left hand to her cheek, and jodeled 'merrily to the expanse of air. Hark! Beneath, from the defile, an answering jodel was given. Was not this the voice of Monsieur Edgar, as he had sung that night in the moonlight upon the lake? Once more Louise uttered a jubilant carol, and once more the same answer was returned from the defile below. Then cried a voice: "Come here to me, you merry boy! Where are you ?" What is this Herr Edgar? Does he speak | boulder, on which a young fir-tree with difficulty German? held its place. To the right was a small ravine, in which the foliage of many years had grown undisturbed, and now glittered in colors of wonderful beauty. Above, through the branches of the fir, a small opening of blue sky could be seen. Louise went onward; she was standing upon a rocky ledge, where it was precipitously steep, when Herr Edgar called out from below, but now in French, that she must stop, she was in a dangerous place, where she might be precipitated into the abyss. She fixed the point of her staff in a fissure of the rock, bent forward and looked over to the brook beneath, where was a light scaffolding of boards, and Herr Edgar wrapped in a plaid, with large wooden shoes on his feet and an easel in front of him. "Go back," cried he, in an anxious tone; "take the left between those two firs! Will you come where I am? I will show you the way! Only wait until I have uncased myself Are you all alone?" a little. "No; I am here too," cried the small guide. He was soon with Louise, and conducted her down. She was obliged to hold on to the bushes on both sides in order not to slip down; but at last she stood near the bridge, which she could not get upon, for there was here an arm of the brook through which she would have had to wade. Herr Edgar begged her to excuse him for not getting to her sooner, but his costume had impeded him. He pointed to a ladder which lay on the shore, and the boy quickly laid it across the rapid current to the rock on which the light bridge rested. Herr Edgar told Louise to go down on it backward; she did so, and now stood on the frail and unsteady platform. "Go no farther, for the bridge will not bear two persons," cried Herr Edgar, adding, in a jesting tone, "The bridge which I have built for myself over the rushing stream of life will only bear me!" Louise could make no reply. The painter said that he had kept his forest sanctuary entirely concealed from every one; but, as she had found it out, she might now quietly take a view of it. In a cheery tone he added that she had better put on his over-coat, for it was quite cool here, and he would like to christen this place as Rheumatism Grotto, for it was with no little difficulty that he had got rid of a rheumatism which he had contracted here last year. He speedily muffled himself up again, and then asked, "Are you German, too, and was it you who jodeled so loudly? Strange! You can jodel and can not sing. I took you for one of the mountain-boys." He trod hard upon the platform, and it shook; but he now added, "I think the bridge will bear you and me. Come down!" "Have you nothing to say?" asked the painter, as Louise stood perfectly speechless. "I would rather be silent. I can only say that it is well done; one can see in the picture that you work con amore, for light, atmosphere, and coloring convey this impression to the soul." "Thank you. I am glad that you have not begun by opening a parliamentary debate, as so many of our German ladies of culture do in looking at a work of art. At once an interpellation is offered to the artist, as if he were literally a minister of nature, by asking him: 'What do you intend by that? Whence do you get the other? Above all, how do you manage to conceal the inferiority of art, which can never equal the actual beauty of nature?'" Louise was agitated. Why did the painter make use of such a comparison as this to the former Daughter of the Parliament? But Herr Edgar continued in a pleasant tone: "Ah, Fräulein, there's nothing so provoking as this holding a discussion on a work of art. If one could express in words what the picture tries to express, the painting would be entirely superfluous." Louise was again moved. The artist had given utterance to what she had herself felt in Italy, and what had been her own hard-bought experience. "I believe that I now see," said she, "what art can and should do. The distant range of mountains refreshes the eye of the lover of nature, but-" "But what?" "Ah, pardon me for having recourse to words with which to explain what I feel." "Don't stop; you are on the right path. You also sketch ?" "Yes, I have painted a little, but shall not attempt it again." "Yes, you are right in your 'but,'" resumed Edgar. "In order to have atmospheric effect, there is no need of towering mountains and a distant prospect. A few trees, a hill, and the sky over it, would be sufficient." Louise did not continue the conversation, begging Herr Edgar not to leave off painting, as it would be highly interesting to her to watch the progress of a work of art. Herr Edgar at once complied with her request, and went on painting the masses of foliage, telling at the same time how he owed to this nook of the world the happiness of his life; he requested The painter extended his hand to Louise, who stood near him, and looked now at the picture on the easel, now at the rocks, the rush-Louise to stand a little one side-it was not ing brook, and the surrounding scenery. Which was the more charming, the reality or its representation by art? The brook leaped over a rock, but was divided into two branches by a easy to get a glimpse of the place-there he had painted in, in bright colors, the order of the Legion of Honor; and now he said that he was painting the picture for the second |