"Will you go down to the dining-hall, sir?"
"No, I had rather not mount those four flights of stairs again. Bring our supper here, if you please."
"Very well, sir, I will get you the bill of fare instantly."
"Here--stop a moment----"
"What do you wish, sir?"
"Bring me up a couple of newspapers at the same time."
"Very well, sir."
As the door closed behind the man, Gretchen turned round from the window, where she had been standing with clasped hands. "Father," said she, "I am fairly dazzled with all that I see. I never was so happy in my life before. But, in the midst of it all, I never forget whom I have to thank for all this pleasure." And she knelt upon the carpet and laid her head upon the lap of her father, who had flung himself exhausted into a chair. "Do not you too, father, feel easy and free up here in the pure, clear air, with this lovely view of the shining water?"
"Oh, yes, dear child," said Leuthold, his breast filled the while with deadly forebodings.
Gretchen sprang up again, and took two or three deep breaths. "Oh," she cried, running to the window again, "it seems to me that I have been thirsty all my life, and am now drinking deep refreshing draughts in looking at those rolling waves." She leaned her fair forehead against the window-frame, and eagerly inhaled the fresh breeze that blew into the room from the Alster. "How happy those are who are at home upon two elements," she continued, "land and water! We, poor land-rats, must cling to the soil. Think of inhabiting all four of the elements, now working and walking upon the earth, then soaring aloft into the air, now floating dreamily upon the waves, or dancing in the ardent glow of fire,--would not that be glorious?"