"That is meant for you," he said, in astonishment.
"How delightful!" exclaimed Ilse.
"The 'dwarf' must certainly be a joke of the Doctor," decided the Professor; "truly, he has well disguised his handwriting."
Ilse, delighted, pinned on the nosegay.
"When the Doctor comes this evening he shall not find out that we have discovered him."
The Professor dilated upon the droll idea of his friend and Ilse, who before had looked upon the Doctor with secret distrust, heartily agreed.
But when, in the evening, the Doctor feigned the greatest nonchalance, he was jestingly scolded for his art of dissimulation and loaded with thanks. When, however, he firmly declared that the nosegay and verse did not come from him, fruitless discussion arose as to the author, and the Professor began to look very serious.
A few days later the offering in the wood was repeated; another nosegay lay on the bench with the same address and a verse. Again did Ilse endeavor gently to maintain, that there had been collusion on the part of the Doctor, but the Professor rejected that and put the rose-colored note in his pocket. Ilse took the nosegay with her, but this time did not place it in her girdle. When the Doctor came the adventure was again discussed.
"It can be no one but the little student," said Ilse, much distressed.
"That I fear, also," said the Professor, and related to the Doctor Ilse's annoyance at the confidential package from the devotee of the muses. "Harmless as the thing appears in itself, it still has a serious aspect. These addresses imply close watching, which is anything but agreeable, and such activity and assiduity may lead the adorer to still greater daring. He must be checked. I will endeavor to-morrow to convince him of his error."