"It is three o'clock in the morning. Enough for to-day. Your grateful and happy
"Robert Hellinger."
The old doctor wiped a tear from his cheek.
"The dear boy," he murmured. "How his emotions crowd each other in his over-heated brain; and how simple, how honest everything is to the last jot! In truth, he deserves you, my brave, proud girl; he is the only one to whom I do not grudge you. And now I will put you to the test, and see if you too put confidence in your old uncle. Straightway I will do it."
Laughing and growling he burrowed with his head in the pillows. And then he suddenly shouted with a voice resounding through the house like thunder:
"Confound it, where are my trousers?"
The trousers were brought, and five minutes later the old man stood quite ready before his glass, all except his greyish-yellow wig.
"My hat, cloak, stick!" he shouted out into the corridor.
"But the breakfast," the old woman shouted back, if possible louder still, from the kitchen.
"Well, then, hurry up," he blustered. "Before I have read these letters I must have it here."