point of resolving once more to ask this angel
to share his earthly lot. The first meeting
between the lovers since that gloomy parting
in the grey autumn morning was a somewhat
constrained one; Kätchen was shy and
silent, Fritz timid and anxious. He hesitated
for a choice form of words in which
to tell her that he knew of the sacrifice she
had made for his sake, and was filled with
gratitude for it. And at last, after long deliberation
and painful mental framing of a fitting
speech, he suddenly fell down on his knees before
her, and, taking her hands in his, blurted out:

"Oh, Kätchen, how good it was of you, and
how I love you!"

And I really believe that Kätchen found those
few words quite as eloquent as anything else he
could possibly have said.

"I am very angry," she whispered; but she
didn't look so. "Herr Laurier is a traitor; he
ought not to have told you."

"Not told me!" echoed Fritz, rising up, but
still keeping the little hands in his. "I shall be
grateful to him to my dying day for telling me.
And, I say, Kätchen, you ain't really sorry in
your heart that he did tell me, are you?
Because, if it hadn't been for that, I should never
again have plucked up courage to—to——"

The speech was never finished; but perhaps
Fritz meant he should not have had courage to
take Kätchen in his arms and kiss her. That,
at all events, is what he assuredly did.

Old Kester's consent to his daughter's
marriage with Fritz Rosenheim was obtained without
much difficulty. He was thankful, he said,
that she had made up her mind at last; though
he persisted in asserting that until he saw
Kätchen come out of the church a wedded wife, all
due forms and ceremonies having been complied
with, he should never feel secure that she would
not disappoint every one's expectations by some
new caprice.

"As long as there was the least chance of
your being suspected of robbery, my boy," said
the old man to his future son-in-law, "you were
right enough with Kätchen. "But now that the
world agrees to acknowledge you an honest man,
why you'd best look sharp after her, that's all!"

But he accepted the new state of things very
well, on the whole; and allowed all trouble and
toil about the inn to slip from his own hands into
Fritz's with much complaisance. Caspar Ebner,
when he heard that Kätchen's wedding-day was
fixed, discovered that about that period business
would call him away from Gossau for some
weeks. He did not come to take leave of
Kätchen in person, but wrote her a kind little note,
and sent with it a box which he wished should
not be opened until her marriage morning. It
contained, he said, a nuptial wreath and veil,
and he begged she would accept and wear them
for his sake. When, on the morning of her
wedding-day, Kätchen opened this box, she
found in it a pretty gold cross and chain for the
neck, and underneath, covered with a white veil,
a thick plaited coronet made of glistening
yellow hair. There was also a slip of paper with
these words written on it: "A golden marriage
crown for Kätchen." The bride's blue eyes
brimmed ever with tears as she looked at it.

"My hair!" she exclaimed. "Then it was
he who——How good he is! How good everybody
has been, except me! But now I mean
to try to be good, for Fritz's sake." And she
knelt down to say one last prayer by her little
bed, with a heart very full of gratitude and
humility. Kätchen wore the wreath of hair as
her bridal head-gear; and though many Gossau
people thought a gilt paper tiara covered with
ornaments would have been more becoming,
yet Fritz then and always declared that no wife
had ever worn so beautiful and honourable a
marriage crown as his Kätchen.

The Golden Lamb, freshly gilt and painted,
showed his meek face with a new and pleasant
expression on the signboard. So meek and
pleasant was his altered aspect, that one might
almost have said he smiled. The young couple
took up their abode at the old inn, and by energy,
thrift, and cheerful civility, so extended its
trade, that by-and-by Fritz had to relinquish
his carriage and team of horses and devote
himself to the business of a landlord. Old
Kester was very proud and happy when his first
grandchild was put into his arms; but the little
idol—who was in due time succeeded by sundry
brothers and sisters—had no such faithful adorer
as Caspar Ebner. He was her godfather and
chose her name. They suggested that the child
should be called Katarina, after her mother; but
he said no, he liked better the name of Margarethe,
and so she was called. He often told her
the story of her mother's wedding crown; and
used to say, looking into the child's clear eyes,
and stroking her plump fresh cheeks:

"Ay, my little maid, you've a sweet face, and
a pleasant; but you'll never be so pretty as your
mother. No, no, there is but one Kätchen, and
there never can be another."

And I suppose he was sincere in saying so,
for he remained a bachelor to the end of his days.
Fritz and his wife lived together in faithful and
fond companionship; and, notwithstanding old
Josef's predictions, the sacrifice of her beautiful
hair was the very last of Kätchen's caprices.

                     Now ready, stitched in a cover, price Fourpence,
                                        MUGBY JUNCTION.
                         THE EXTRA NUMBER FOR CHRISTMAS.
                                                  CONTENTS.
BARBOX BROTHERS ......................................................... By CHARLES DICKENS.
BARBOX BROTHERS AND Co............................................ By CHARLES DICKENS.
MAIN LINE. THE BOY AT MUGBY....................................... By CHARLES DICKENS.
No. 1 BRANCH LINE. THE SIGNALMAN............................ By CHARLES DICKENS.
No. 2 BRANCH LINE. THE ENGINE DRIVER...................... By ANDREW HALLIDAY.
No. 3 BRANCH LINE. THE COMPENSATION HOUSE....... By CHARLES COLLINS.
No. 4 BRANCH LINE. THE TRAVELLING POST-OFFICE... By HESBA STRETTON.
No. 5 BRANCH LINE. THE ENGINEER.............................. By AMELIA B. EDWARDS.