"Your friend,
"G. Brandenstein."
"This note intimates," said the Baron with a sneer; "that our heroic Count has large sums at his disposal, and that his American friend or ward, to whom he plays the part of tutor or steward, is probably a sufficient simpleton; just according to my idea of the affair from the beginning. The generous man, as circumstances require, will dip his hand deep into the purse of his outlandish prodigy, and thus on closer inspection does the gilding disappear from every puffed out Cato, and change into copper."
The affair however assumed a different aspect, when the next day a letter came from Brandenstein, in which he applied for Dorothea's hand on behalf of his wealthy American. He had convinced himself, so he wrote, that his friend, with whom he was intimately acquainted, could be happy with no other being.
Dorothea, who was quite lost in her thoughts and feelings, was terrified at this proposal; she declined it with vehemence, and it filled her heart with despair, that the Count, who had seen her whole soul, could make this proposition. "No feeling then," she sighed in secret, "not the slightest, for me, that think and dream only of him."
Upon the mother's refusal, followed a still kinder letter of the Count; he begged for his unknown friend, who would shortly make his appearance, nothing but permission to show himself, that Miss Dorothea would deign to become acquainted with him and his sentiments.
To this proposal Dorothea had sent no answer. In her silent grief she took no heed of time, and her friends were forced to give her notice, that the day and hour was now come, in which the singular wooer was to make his appearance. Madame von Halden was present as the female friend. A team of English horses drove up, a splendid carriage and servants appeared. Dorothea was in the garden parlour nearly fainting. Brandenstein stepped in, attired as a bridegroom, in the prime of manly beauty.
"And your friend?" inquired the mother.
"It is only my dear, beloved Dorothea," replied he, hastening to her, "from whom I must implore forgiveness for my jest; I am myself the American, that domain is at last mine, and nothing is wanting to my happiness but a word from that gentle mouth."
Dorothea bloomed again, looked at him with a tear in her beaming eye, and stretched out her hand to him. "We shall drive directly, my dear friends," said he saluting all present, "to the adjoining estate, which till now belonged to Madame von Halden. I have the marriage license, the house is in festal trim, the minister is waiting."