that card. No, no, we must say good-bye till to-morrow. My mother is
waiting for her letter; and Mr. Keller is wondering what has become of
you." She pressed my hand warmly and left me.

On my way alone to Mr. Keller's house, I was not quite satisfied with
myself. The fear occurred to me that I might have spoken about Fritz a
little too freely, and might have excited hopes which could never be
realized. The contemplation of the doubtful future began to oppress my
mind. Minna might have reason to regret that she had ever met with me.

I was received by Mr. Keller with truly German cordiality. He and his
partner Mr. Engelman--one a widower, the other an old bachelor --lived
together in the ancient building, in Main Street, near the river, which
served for house and for offices alike.

The two old gentlemen offered the completest personal contrast
imaginable. Mr. Keller was lean, tall, and wiry--a man of considerable
attainments beyond the limits of his business, capable (when his hot
temper was not excited) of speaking sensibly and strongly on any subject
in which he was interested. Mr. Engelman, short and fat, devoted to the
office during the hours of business, had never read a book in his life,
and had no aspiration beyond the limits of his garden and his pipe. "In
my leisure moments," he used to say, "give me my flowers, my pipe, and my
peace of mind--and I ask no more." Widely as they differed in character,
the two partners had the truest regard for one another. Mr. Engelman
believed Mr. Keller to be the most accomplished and remarkable man in
Germany. Mr. Keller was as firmly persuaded, on his side, that Mr.
Engelman was an angel in sweetness of temper, and a model of modest and
unassuming good sense. Mr. Engelman listened to Mr. Keller's learned talk
with an ignorant admiration which knew no limit. Mr. Keller, detesting