"Why, come in, of course, Gabriel."
"Only to the threshold," said Gabriel, advancing, still holding the open door. "I only wanted to say that the number of which you lately dreamt is not to be found at any of the offices. I have, therefore, taken another, and have had it drawn by a little beggar lad, as that brings good luck. I shall be so pleased if you will play this number with me. It is quite a sum, for it is a whole eighth of a ticket."
"But that will be no good sign," said Dorchen, with pretty embarrassment.
"Why not, Fräulein? It was a real beggar-boy."
"No, I mean when two play together who love one another."
"Dear Dorchen!" cried Gabriel, approaching nearer and seizing her hand.
A hollow gurgle interrupted the conversation. Dorchen drew back from him terrified.
"It was a ghost," she cried.
"That is impossible," said Gabriel, consolingly: "for, first, it is day-time; secondly, it is in a new house; and, thirdly, spirits generally do not make such a noise. It was something in the street."
"Your being here is a real comfort to me," exclaimed the timid Dorchen. "It is fearful to be alone in a large house."