The history of the _café_ to which he took Marguerite was curious;
it had been opened not less than one hundred and twenty years without
being once entirely closed. It was, in point of fact, formed by two
houses, which were used alternately to allow of the necessary repairs
and cleansings. On such an occasion as the present they were both
thrown open,--the one part was for persons of the second rank, amongst
which Dumiger and Marguerite now classed themselves; the other was
reserved for the people of the higher order, for in this city of
popular institutions and liberal opinions the distinction of classes
was very strictly preserved.

Marguerite and Dumiger ordered some slight refreshment. Marguerite
was enjoying that repose which is so agreeable to the mind after the
sensation of strong happiness; Dumiger, with his head resting on his
hand, was gazing on the lofty tower of the Dom, and the light fleecy
clouds, which appeared to be almost attracted by the glittering vane.
At that moment a rude hand slapped his shoulder.

"You here, Dumiger!" said Carl. "Why, Confound it, man. I thought you
were poring over dull tomes of the University library, or worshiping
a saint" and he took off his hat to Marguerite. "Here is Krantz, your
old friend Krantz, whom you have not seen since we were all at Bonn
together: so I will drink with you as well as he did three years
since, when we reveled in Rhenish."

Dumiger seized the extended hand, a gleam shot across his mind: the
three years of abstraction and thought appeared to be swept away; he
only beheld his two boon companions; his countenance was lightened of
a dozen years.