theatre in the city, wished to see her in the costume whose beauty had
been so much praised. The vigorous, gay old gentleman had charmed her,
and she declared that she liked him far better than any of the young men.
But as she knew little of his former life and works, I told her of his
foolish pranks and chivalrous deeds.

It seemed as if her presence increased my powers of description, and when
I at last took leave she exclaimed: "You'll come again, won't you? After
one has finished one's part, it's the best time to talk."

Did I wait to be asked a second time? Oh, no! Even had I not been the
"foolhardy Ebers," I should have accepted her invitation. The very next
evening I was in the pleasant sitting-room, and whenever I could slip
away after supper I went to the girl, whom I loved more and more
ardently. Sometimes I repeated poems of my own, sometimes she recited
and acted passages from her best parts, amid continual jesting and
laughter. My visits seemed like so many delightful festivals, and
Clara's mother took care that they were not so long as to weary her
treasure. She often fell asleep while we were reading and talking, but
usually she sent me away before midnight with "There's another day coming
to-morrow." Long before my first visit to the young actress I had
arranged a way of getting into the house at any time, and Dr. Boltze
had no suspicion of my expeditions, since on my return I strove the
more zealously to fulfil all my school duties.

This sounds scarcely credible, yet it is strictly true, for from a child
up to the present time I have always succeeded, spite of interruptions of
every kind, in devoting myself to the occupation in which I was engaged.
Loud noises in an adjoining room, or even tolerably severe physical pain,
will not prevent my working on as soon as the subject so masters me as to