Debit and Credit. Gustav Freytag

society," replied Fink, severely. "You must get rid of this miserable timidity as soon as possible. Can you waltz? Have you any remote conception of the figures of a quadrille?"

      "A few years ago I had some dancing-lessons in Ostrau."

      "Very well; now you shall have some more. Frau von Baldereck informed me yesterday that a few families purposed instituting a private assembly, where their half-grown chickens might learn to spread their wings, secure from birds of prey. It is to be held in her house, as she has a chicken of her own to bring up for the market. It's the very thing for you, and I will introduce you."

      "Fink," said our hero, "this is another of your mad adventures. Frau von Baldereck belongs to the aristocratic set; you would only occasion me the mortification of being rejected, or, worse, treated with hauteur."

      "Is he not enough to put a saint out of patience?" cried Fink, in dudgeon; "you and your class have more reason to hold your heads high than half of those here assembled. And yet you are the very people, with your timidity and subserviency, to keep up their foolish pretensions! How can you suppose yourself their inferior? I should never have expected to have found such meanness in you."

      "You mistake me," replied Anton, angry in his turn. "I am not wanting in self-respect; but it would be foolish and unbecoming to intrude into a circle where I am not wished for, and where a man would be despised for being in a counting-house."

      "Nonsense! you are wished for. There is a paucity of gentlemen. The lady of the house (I am a favorite—no honor, mind you) has asked me to introduce three young men of my acquaintance, and so nothing can be more simple. You pay for your lessons like another; and whether you whirl round a countess or a young bourgeoise, what matters it?"

      "It won't do," replied Anton, shaking his head; "I have an inward conviction that it is unbecoming, and wish to be guided by this."

      "Well, then," said Fink, impatiently, "I have one other proposal to make. You shall this very day call with me upon Frau von Baldereck. I will introduce you as Anton Wohlfart, one of the clerks in the firm of T. O. Schröter. Not a word shall be said of these dancing-lessons, and you shall see that she herself will invite you. If she does not, or if she shows the very least hauteur, you can stay away. This you can not object to."

      Anton demurred. The case seemed by no means so clear as Fink made it out, but he was no longer able to weigh it dispassionately. For years past he had yearned for the free, dignified, refined life of the upper circles. Whenever he heard music—whenever he read of the doings of the aristocracy, the turreted castle and the noble maiden rose before him in the golden light of poetry. He consented to the proposal of his experienced friend.

      An hour later came the tailor, and Fink himself determined the cut of the new suit with a technical precision which impressed the tailor no less than it did Anton.

      That afternoon, as the November sun melted away the snow, Fink, with a large bundle of papers in his hand, loitered down the most unfrequented streets, evidently on the look-out for some one or other. At last he crossed over, and encountered, apparently to his surprise, two elegantly-dressed gentlemen who were sauntering, on the opposite side.

      "Ah! Fink."

      "Oh, how do you do?"

      "Where are you wandering to in this absent mood?" inquired young Von Tönnchen.

      "I am looking," replied Fink, in a melancholy voice, "for two good fellows who will come and drink a bottle of wine with me this gloomy afternoon, and assist me in a little matter of business beforehand."

      "What! a duel?" inquired Herr von Zernitz.

      "No, fair sir," replied Fink; "you know that I have forsworn all evil ways, and am become a hard-working man of business, a worthy son of the firm of Fink and Becker. I only want two witnesses to a legal document, which must be executed at once. Will you accompany me for a quarter of an hour to the notary—for the rest of the evening to Feroni's?"

      The two gentlemen were only too happy. Fink took them to a well-known lawyer, to whom he delivered a long and important-looking document, written in English, and setting forth that Fritz von Fink was the lawful proprietor of the territory of Fowling-floor, in the State of New York. This, he explained to the lawyer, he now wished to make over to Anton Wohlfart, at present clerk in the house of T. O. Schröter, imploring the man of business, at the same time, to keep the matter secret, which he duly promised; and the two witnesses attested the deed. As they left, Fink earnestly besought them never to reveal the circumstance to Mr. Wohlfart. They both gave him their word of honor, evincing, however, some degree of curiosity as to the whole transaction.

      "I can not explain it to you," said Fink, "there being about it a political mystery that is not quite clear even to myself."

      "Is the estate large that you have just ceded?" inquired Von Tönnchen.

      "An estate!" said Fink, looking up to the sky; "it is no estate. It is a district, mountain and vale, wood and water—but a small part, certainly, of America. But then, what is large? On the other side of the Atlantic we measure things by a very different scale to that used in this corner of Germany. At all events, I shall never again call the property mine."

      "But who is this Wohlfart?" asked the lieutenant.

      "You shall make his acquaintance," answered Fink. "He is a handsome youth from the heart of the province, over whom a remarkable destiny hovers—of which, however, he knows, and is to know, nothing. But enough of business. I have a plan for you this winter. You are old boys, it is true; but you must take dancing-lessons."

      And, so saying, he led the way into Feroni's, where the three were soon deep in a bottle of port wine.

      Frau von Baldereck was one of the main supports of the very best society, consisting as it did of the families of the county nobility, the officers, and a few of the highest officials. It was difficult to say what had given this lady her social importance, for she was neither very well connected, nor very rich, nor very elegant, nor very intellectual. Perhaps it was this absence of all marked superiority which accounted for it. She had a very large acquaintance, was rigidly conventional, valued every one according to a social standard, and, therefore, her estimate was always attended to. She had a young daughter who promised to be very like her, and she inhabited a suite of large rooms on a first floor, where for many years dramatic representations, tableaux vivants, rehearsals, etc., had been constantly held.

      This influential lady was deep in consultation with her mantuamaker as to how the new dress of her daughter could be best made so as to display her faultless bust without exciting comment at the dancing-lesson, when her favorite, Fink, was announced. Dismissing a while the weighty consideration, she hurried down to give him a most gracious reception.

      After a few introductory remarks upon the last evening party at which they had met, Fink began:

      "I have obeyed your orders, lady patroness, and shall bring you three gentlemen."

      "And who are they?"

      "First, Lieutenant von Zernitz."

      "A great acquisition," was the reply, for the lieutenant was considered an accomplished officer. He made neat verses, was great in the arrangement of tableaux vivants, and was said to have written a tale in some annual or other. "Herr von Zernitz is a delightful companion."

      "Yes," said Fink; "but he can not bear port wine. The second is young Von Tönnchen."

      "An old family," observed the mistress of the house; "but is he not a little—just a little—wild?" added she, modestly.

      "By no means," said Fink; "though sometimes, perhaps, he makes other people so."

      "And the third?" inquired the lady.

      "The third is a Mr. Wohlfart."

      "Wohlfart!" returned she, somewhat perplexed; "I do not know the name."

      "Very likely not," said Fink, coolly; "Mr. Wohlfart came here from the country two or three years ago, to get an insight into the mysteries