"Yes, in truth," answered the Ulmer, "the streets might be paved with them."
"That would not be amiss," replied Albert, "for the pavement of your streets is bad indeed. But tell me who lives in that corner house with the bow-window?" pointing to the situation of it: "if I do not mistake, two young ladies were looking out of the window as we rode by."
"So! you have remarked them already?" laughed the other: "upon my word, you have a quick eye, and are a good judge. They are my pretty cousins, on my mother's side: the little blonde is the daughter of the Herrn von Besserer, the other is the lady of Lichtenstein, a Würtemberger, staying with her on a visit."
Albert thanked heaven for having been placed so near a relation of Bertha, and determined at once to take advantage of his good fortune. He turned to him, and in the most friendly manner said, "You have a couple of pretty cousins, Herr von Besserer."
"I call myself Dieterick von Kraft, secretary to the grand council, with your permission."
"A pair of pretty cousins, Herr von Kraft; do you visit them often?"
"Yes, I do," answered the secretary, "and particularly since the daughter of Lichtenstein is in the house. Before her arrival, cousin Marie and I were one heart and soul, but she is somewhat jealous now, being piqued by the attentions I bestow upon her charming cousin, Bertha von Lichtenstein, which she thinks belong to her alone."
This confidential communication of the secretary to a perfect stranger, was not a little surprising to Albert, who very soon discovered that a certain portion of vanity was one of his weak points, though in other respects there was much to like in him.
This avowal, however, on the part of his new acquaintance, did not sound agreeable to Albert's ear, which caused him to press his lips together, whilst his cheeks assumed a deeper colour.
"Laugh as you will," proceeded the scribe, whose head began to feel the effects of the wine, to which he was unaccustomed; "if you only knew how they pull caps about me! My Lichtenstein cousin has, however, a disagreeable, odd way of showing her friendship; she is so ladylike and reserved, that one is afraid to joke in her presence, much less to be as familiar with her as with Marie; but it is just that which renders her so attractive in my eyes, for if she sends me away ten times, I am sure to return to her the eleventh:--the reason is," he murmured to himself, "that her old strict father is present, of whom she is rather shy; let him but once cross the boundary of Ulm, and I'll soon tame her."