"I have taken you by surprise this time," said Waldstein, "and have brought my friend, Dr. Julius Steck, of Frankfort. He is a serious fellow, young as he looks; one after your own heart, an indefatigable student, who wishes thoroughly to examine our parochial customs before he enters upon his active duties."
"Welcome! welcome both!" said the pastor, heartily, giving each a hand. "Any friend of yours, Waldstein, has, you know, a double welcome, and Dr. Steck could not have found a better place to complete his studies than the oldest parsonage in Alsace, though the vicar says it himself."
"I shall be proud to put myself under your guidance," said Steck, with becoming modesty. "Your well-known research, your profound——"
"Tut! tut!" interrupted the pleased pastor. "I have but looked into such scant volumes as strayed across my path. But an apt and ardent scholar is my delight, and such a one is a rarity in these superficial days. Ah, Waldstein, your eyes are wandering after the lasses, I'll be bound. They have strolled off with the Mütterchen toward the brook-side to enjoy this bright afternoon. But we can have a good hour's chat in the library before they return."
"We heard their laughter as we came along from Drusenheim," said Waldstein. "If Otto be not with them, why could not I? Might they not be pleased——"
"I see your drift," exclaimed the pastor. "Well, be off to the meadows, young gallant, and bring them safely home; they will all be glad to see thee. Meantime, this serious youth and I will discuss our graver matters."
Max, with a roguish glance at Steck, ran off like a dismissed schoolboy down the slope behind the house, and was almost immediately out of sight in the dip of the valley below. Steck, however, with his head full of the "Vicar of Wakefield," and possessing in the highest degree the artist's capacity to invest with interest the most commonplace of characters, was delighted at the prospect of a conversation with the Dr. Primrose of Sesenheim.
"I do not wonder, sir," he began, "that you have brought your literature to so attractive a seat. I, too, often make my studies in the open air; not that my eyes will wander from my beloved manuscript, but I fancy that the mind has there a larger scope, a clearer perception, a stronger energy of retention."
"Surely, surely," assented the pastor. "I am fully of your opinion, Dr. Steck. So, since it pleases you, we will take our seats here in the porch. At this genial season, the hospitality of my home extends far beyond the shelter of my roof-tree, over all these shining acres." And he waved his hand with a natural pride towards the smiling landscape.
"You are perhaps surprised," he went on, garrulously, "to find me so miserably quartered in a wealthy village and with a lucrative benefice. Long since, it has been promised me by the parish, and even by those in higher places, that the house shall be rebuilt; many plans have been already drawn, examined, and altered,—none of them altogether rejected, and none carried into execution. This has lasted so long that I scarcely know how to control my impatience."