not been very anxious about me. The storm
detained us; we slept at Stettin that night,
and had to wait there till the road was passable."

But the mother did not so soon recover
from the suspense she had been enduring for
the last two days; and now the reaction was
so great that she fairly gave way and burst
into tears, as Eric knelt before her. So
he looked at Carl, and they said nothing
about the wolves and the snow-storm.

"Mother," said Eric, " I have brought you
something from Rome, which I know will
please you. It is to be hung in your oratory.
It will come with the rest of my things
in the baggage-sleigh this evening. And see,
Ernst," he continued, " what I have brought
for you, or rather for your bride."

"How beautiful! " said Ernst, as he
opened a case, which his brother put into his
hands, and an exquisite set of antique
cameos met his eyes.

"I hope your bride will like them,"
he said, "and I hope she will approve of her
new brother a little; though, I suppose, she
likes you so much that she will have no liking
to bestow on me."

"Oh, yes, a sister's love, dear Eric; we
never had a sister. Some day you will give
me one, as I give you one, now."

Eric reddened, and said, "Perhaps."

"There could not have been a nobler pair
of brothers," thought Carl, as sitting beside
the lady of Kronenthal, he watched them as
they walked arm-in-arm, and up and down
the room. There was a great likeness
between the two. Eric was a little taller,
though both were tall and well made.
There was the same frank bearing, the same
noble cast of countenance; but there was a
look of fire at times in Eric's eyes, which
the calm grey eyes of Ernst did not possess.
There was in both the same confiding, loving
repose on each other's faith. The love that
Eric bore his brother, amounted almost to
devotion; and that of Ernst for him was that
of one who had protected, and humoured, and
petted him from his infancy.

Left without a father when they were yet
infants, the three boys soon knew what the
cares and sorrows of the world meant. Their
right to their inheritance was contested for
years, and more than once the mother had
been obliged to fly by night to carry her
children to a place of safety, and often had
she known what it was even to want bread and
a place of refuge. During all these trials—
which came to a close when Ernst was
twelve and Eric ten—the care of the elder
brother for the younger was something beautiful
to witness; and after they were restored
to their estate in peace and safety, his care
and solicitude for him seemed to increase.
It was Ernst who had taught him all the
athletic exercises in which he was so well
skilled; Ernst who had carried him home
half-dead through a snow-storm; Ernst who
had killed the wolf whose teeth were at his
throat; and, when the indescribable longing
had seized him to be an artist—to see Rome—
it was Ernst's entreaties which had obtained
the mother's reluctant consent to his departure.
It was not surprising, that he
loved Ernst with all the strength of his
impassioned soul; that to him
all his thoughts turned in success, in despair; that
to him he poured out his heart in long letters
all his yearnings, his hopes, his fears; that
to Ernst were sent the first successful creations
of his pencil, of his chisel; and that at
Ernst's summons he should have left his
beloved studio, his unfinished picture, and
journeyed to the north, to be present at
the crowning of his brother's happiness,
which he knew would have been incomplete
without him.

This Carl knew partly. Eric from time
to time had told him enough of his past
life to make him understand the bond which
bound the brothers together, and made their
affection appear so beautiful to him. It was
as much to see this Ernst, of whom Eric
spoke so constantly, that Carl had consented
to go with him to Kronenthal,
as the desire to hunt wolves, to skat, or enjoy
the other amusements of a Pomeranian
winter.

"When shall I see your bride? " said Eric.
"And you will not tell me her name?"

"No," replied Ernst, " I want to surprise
you. She is an old friend of yours."

"Who can she be ? " said Eric.

"You will see to-night," replied Ernst. "We
are going to Rabenstein to spend a few
days. She will be there. You must drive
our mother, Eric; and your English friend
and I will take the other sleigh.

While Carl was in his room preparing for
this visit, Eric came in to him.

"Carl, don't say anything about the wolves
or the snow-storm to Ernst as you go to Rabenstein;
it will make him uneasy, and my
mother will be sure to find it out if it is spoken
of. I would not have her know it just
now for a great deal; her nerves are still
trembling." After a pause, he continued, " I
must ask Ernst if he knows the Mellinthens.
I can't remember the name."

"She is a beautiful creature," said Carl, as
he continued his occupation of culling the
contents of a large portmanteau and transferring
them to a smaller one.

"Carl, Carl, she is mine. I have won
her! " said Eric. " At least, I know she loves
me. For the rest I do not foresee
any difficulty. My mother and Ernst are
so universally beloved and respected in
the neighbourhood, that I do not think I
shall ask her parents for her in vain."

"I wish you joy, dear Eric," said Carl,
warmly pressing his hand. You will find
that there is a great difference between pure
love and the devouring fire of passion."

"It was the last I feared," said Eric. " I