John was out of town much of the time and when he came it was
impossible for him to see much of the little German maiden, and this
made Anna most unhappy. Deep in her heart she knew that what her
father had described had come to her--she knew she loved; but it was
all a mighty puzzle. Even if he loved her in return, of which she was
by no means certain, he was not at all the sort of man, she thought,
of whom her father would approve. Her father's notions were the
notions of the stiff old world. He had said that she must wait until
he was a flute-player no longer and that when that glad time came, he
would, himself, pick out for her the handsomest and bravest gentleman
whom he could find and bring him to her, ready-made, to love. She knew
he felt a great contempt for riches; she knew that his experience of
America had far from prepossessed him in favor either of the country
or the people in it. She was absolutely certain that the man whom he
would choose for her would be a very different sort of person from
John Vanderlyn. Handsome he was, for certain, strong he was, for sure;
but he was not a German and she knew that when her father spoke of
"gentlemen" he had in mind none but a well-bred, well-born German.

It seemed to her, as she reflected on this matter, that she could not
possibly endure to wed a German. She was, indeed, a little frightened
by what her father had declaimed about her future and the matter of
her courtship.

Then things happened, all at once, so suddenly that she could scarcely
credit her own knowledge of them. One morning, coming in with Mrs.
Vanderlyn from a long ride, she was informed that Herr Kreutzer had
just been there with M'riar, and had left a note for her upon her
dressing-table after having waited for a time. The note said that he