Part 22 (1/2)

Then his thoughts wandered to the charmer who was to leave town to-morrow. He realized his fate in all its bitterness, and he felt a great longing to pour forth the sorrow of his soul to a friend who could understand him.

But it was not easy to find a sympathetic friend at that time of night.

After all, Uncle Frederick was his confidant in many matters; he would look him up.

As he knew that Uncle Frederick was at Aunt Maren's, he betook himself towards the Palace in order to meet him on his way back from Homan's Town. He chose one of the narrow avenues on the right, which he knew to be his uncle's favorite route; and a little way up the hill he seated himself on a bench to wait.

It must be unusually lively at Aunt Maren's to make Uncle Frederick stop there until after ten. At last he seemed to discern a small white object far up the avenue; it was Uncle Frederick's white waistcoat approaching.

Hans rose from the bench and said very seriously, ”Good-evening!”

Uncle Frederick was not at all fond of meeting solitary men in dark avenues; so it was a great relief to him to recognize his nephew.

”Oh, is it only you, Hans old fellow?” he said, cordially. ”What are you lying in ambush here for?”

”I was waiting for you,” answered Hans, in a sombre tone of voice.

”Indeed? Is there anything wrong with you? Are you ill?”

”Don't ask me,” answered Cousin Hans.

This would at any other time have been enough to call forth a hail-storm of questions from Uncle Frederick.