"Well, I do not blame myself much for that," said the other, laughing; "solitude is like the perfume of poisonous plants, sweet, but intoxicating, and in time downright fatal, even for the strongest constitutions. Will you follow my advice? Let the fair Brisæis go her way unhindered, wherever she wants to go; take a seat in my carriage, and let us drive to Grenwitz, where you will, moreover, find a girl that will make you cry out, at first sight: Here is more than Brisæis!"
"Miss Helen?"
"Miss Helen--also a Greek name, and one of better sound than the other. But the sun, or rather Helios, is lowering his chariot, and my horses are becoming impatient. You will come?"
"Certainly!" said Oswald.
* * * * *
Fifteen minutes later the carriage with the two young men was already rolling swiftly towards Grenwitz, which was only an hour's distance off. Oswald had been compelled to promise Mother Carsten that he would soon come back again. Old and young had crowded around him with great cordiality, calling Good-by, sir! after him, and thus showing that without any effort on his part he had succeeded, during the short time of his stay there, in winning the favor of the harmless good people in a high degree.
The evening was extremely beautiful. The sun was hanging like a red ball on the horizon and poured a magic light over the lonely landscape. In the tall heather the cicadæ were chirping; right and left, while above the swallows were swiftly shooting to and fro in the clear soft air. Oswald felt for the first time almost cheerful again, and had to admit that the wise man by his side was right in saying that the pleasures of solitude were paid for too dear.
"How sorry I am," he said, "that we have not been able to carry out our intention of meeting more frequently."
"L'homme propose et Dieu dispose," replied Doctor Braun. "We must try to do better hereafter. You will remain, I am told, for some time in this neighborhood, and I also will probably not move to Grunwald as soon as I had intended."
"You mean to settle there?"