The Baroness Grenwitz had more than one good reason for not taking Oswald with them on their projected trip to Heligoland, and during the three days' visiting at all the neighbors, she had considered maturely how she might manage this without compromising her dignity. She was delighted therefore when Oswald, at her return,--the day after Melitta's departure,--eagerly seized upon her question: If he would not prefer using the time of their absence for his own recreation. She was still more delighted when he went so far as to express his intention not even to remain at the chÂteau, but to make an excursion, perhaps over the island, which he had not yet seen, or perhaps to Berlin, where he was expected by friends. Anna Maria was so enchanted with this unexpected result that she did not trouble herself about the motives that might have influenced Oswald, nor about his sombre, absent manner, and the indifference with which he witnessed the preparations for their journey, and with which he even took leave of Bruno on the day of their departure. Perhaps he was angry because they did not invite him; perhaps he did not know where he was to stay. At all events, he would not remain at the chÂteau, and perhaps he might actually have his knapsack on his back at one gate, while the family coach with the four heavy bays and the silent coachman was grandly rolling out at the great portal.

But Mr. Albert Timm was allowed to stay. He had no such absurd pretensions as the haughty Dr. Stein; he was easily satisfied; and then he could work so comfortably in the lonely house, and it was so important to have the plats completed promptly. Mademoiselle had been ordered to provide everything for Mr. Timm. Strangely enough, it had never occurred to the baroness that it might not be considered quite proper to leave a young girl of twenty and a young man of twenty-six in a lonely chÂteau with only a handful of servants, who were under the control of the young girl. The virtuous lady would have turned up her nose, she would have thought it unpardonable, if she had been told that young Count Grieben and Emily von Breesen had been left alone in a room for five minutes, but the surveyor, Albert Timm, and the housekeeper, Marguerite Hoger--good Heavens! what was the use troubling one's self about such people? that would have been asking too much! And Marguerite had not even a father or a mother to whom one might have been answerable--she had no relations whatever--how can one be expected to be responsible for a person who is standing quite alone in the world? They had, however, asked Mrs. Jager to see from time to time that the orders of the baroness were strictly carried out. Mrs. Jager was an excellent lady, consequently Marguerite was under excellent supervision.

Little Marguerite was under such excellent supervision that Albert could not sufficiently praise the wise foresight of the baroness.

"I wish they would never return," he said to the pretty Genevese as they promenaded in the garden arm in arm; "I wish they would capsize between Heligoland and the Downs, where it is deepest and we could live here, in clover, to the end of our lives. What do you think, little Margerite, would you like to be the wife of Albert Timm, Esquire, owner of Castle Grenwitz, etc.? Wouldn't it be famous? Then I would keep you a carriage and horses, and even a housekeeper, which you could plague as they plague you now."

"I am content with little if I can it share with you."

"Noble thought! But better is better, and--well, we'll see all that when we are married."

"And you will marry me, really? Ah, I can it believe scarcely! Why should a man, comme vous, to whom the whole world is open, marry a poor girl who not even is handsome?"

"That is my business. And besides, you are richer than I am. Three hundred dollars----"

"Three hundred twenty-five dollars," said Mademoiselle Marguerite.

"All the better--that is something to begin with. If I add my own fortune"--Mr. Timm felt in his pocket and produced a few coins--"we have three hundred and twenty-five dollars, seventeen silber-groschen and eightpence. That is quite a capital."

"We shall buy for it a little house."

"Of course."

"I shall give lessons in French."

"Of course."

"And you will be industrious and work."

"Comme un forÇat--oh, it is going to be a charming life," and Mr. Timm seized the little Frenchwoman around the waist and waltzed her around in the bower in which they were chatting.

"I must go in now, to give the servants their supper," said Marguerite, withdrawing herself.

"Then run, you little monkey, and come back again as soon as you can," said Mr. Timm.

He looked after her as she ran away. "Stupid little woman," he said; "really thinks I am going to marry her. What a fool I should be--for three hundred dollars! Formerly I lost as much at play in a night. It is grand, what these girls fancy; and yet this one is not as stupid as she looks, and seems to have studied the great Goethe, in spite of her horrible jargon, to some advantage: 'Yield to no thief, but with the ring on your finger.' Hm, hm! I shall have to buy her a wedding-ring, after all! The three hundred dollars would not be so bad! These abominations of creditors! Not even here they leave me alone."

Mr. Timm felt in his breast pocket and drew from it several letters of suspicious appearance, which he carefully unfolded and perused, after having ensconced himself in the corner of the bench. His face, generally merry enough, grew darker and darker. "Upon my word," he growled, "these fellows are becoming insolent. If I could satisfy the roaring lions with a couple of hundreds they might be silent, at least for a while."

"Hm, hm! The three hundred dollars which little Marguerite has in the Savings Bank would be very convenient. It would, after all, be better for her to be poor. For, of course, every sensible man can see that I am not going to fulfil my promise to marry her unless I am forced to do so. If I am under moral obligations only, I fear I am not quite safe to her; but if I should be under pecuniary obligations to her, her chances are decidedly better. I can make her believe I will invest her money where she can obtain a better interest, or some such thing. When the stupid little things are in love they'll believe anything. And can she invest her money better than in the purchase of a handsome fellow for her husband, who would otherwise not think of marrying her? Me Herculem! I feel quite raised in my estimation by the thought, to become a benefactor of the poor little girl. I must see at once what I can do with her. If she refuses, I shall have to respect her for her wisdom, but I won't be able to love her any more."

Albert rose and slowly walked up to the chÂteau, his hands folded behind his back, as was his habit when his ingenious brain was busy with the solution of a problem. Marguerite was busy in the lower regions near the kitchen, and Albert went up to his room, in order to give a few more moments undisturbed to his great purpose.

He bent over the paper which was stretched out on his drawing-board, and on which he had done nothing since the departure of the family, that is, for a whole week.

"If that goes on so, Anna Maria will marvel at the progress I have made," he said; "it is really amazing what a superb talent for idleness I have, or, to express it more elegantly, for the dolce far niente. There are evidently in life enchanted lazzaroni, as there are enchanted princes, and I am unmistakably such an enchanted son of sunny Naples, who has been changed into a surveyor, compelled to eat his bread in the sweat of his face. But how did it come about, I wonder, that I have thus given way to my natural disposition for a whole week? Is little Marguerite alone to blame for it? Hardly! Oh yes! Now I remember! I want a map from the archive-room, and asked for the key a week ago. I must go and get that map, or, by my burning love for little Marguerite, this unfinished plat will remain a fragment for all eternity."

Albert went into the archive-room, a large apartment on the ground floor of the old castle. The walls were covered, from the ceiling to the floor, with receptacles full of old yellow documents and papers of every kind, many of which were extremely old and would have been of very great interest to the antiquarian. While he was looking among these archives for the old map, a small bundle of letters fell into his hand, which he would have hurled back, in all probability, into its ancient home, like so many others, if his curiosity had not been excited by the address on the outside: "For Baron Harald Grenwitz, at Grenwitz." As excessive discretion was by no means one of Mr. Timm's most prominent qualities, he broke unceremoniously the red tape with which the letters had been bound together, and began to read one after another--an occupation which proved so deeply interesting that he forgot everything else, and did not even hear a carriage, which stopped at the great portal, and caused no small sensation in the chÂteau.