"I think he was right to go. I could understand his doing that. He
is not like us, and would have been fretful here, wanting that which
I could not give him. He became worse from day to day, and was
silent and morose. I am glad he went. But, mamma, for his sake I
wish that this could be shortened."

Madame Heine told her daughter that she would, if Isa wished it,
herself go to the Schrannen Platz, and see what could be done by
talking to Uncle Hatto. "But," she added, "I fear that no good will
come of it."

"Can harm come, mamma?"

"No, I do not think harm can come."

"I'll tell you what, mamma, I will go to Uncle Hatto myself, if you
will let me. He is cross I know; but I shall not be afraid of him.
I feel that I ought to do something." And so the matter was
settled, Madame Heine being by no means averse to escape a further
personal visit to the Head of the banking establishment.

Madame Heine well understood what her daughter meant, when she said
she ought to do something, though Isa feared that she had
imperfectly expressed her meaning. When he, Herbert, was willing to
do so much to prove his love,--when he was ready to sacrifice all
the little comforts of comparative wealth to which he had been
accustomed, in order that she might be his companion and wife,--did
it not behove her to give some proof of her love also? She could
not be demonstrative as he was. Such exhibition of feeling would be
quite contrary to her ideas of female delicacy, and to her very