Again Fate interfered with the course of this story; for on my way to
school that sunny Saturday morning I met Clara's mother, and at sight
of her the wish merged into a resolve. I followed her into the shop she
entered and explained my plan. She thought it would be delightful, and
promised to wait for me at a certain place outside of the city.

The plan was carried out. I found them at the appointed spot, my darling
as fresh as a rose. If love and joy had any substantial weight, the
horses would have found it a hard matter to drag the vehicle swiftly on.

But at the first toll-house, while the toll-keeper was changing some
money, I experienced the envy of the gods which hitherto I had known
only in Schiller's ballad. A pedestrian passed--the teacher whom I had
offended by playing all sorts of pranks during his French lesson. Not
one of the others disliked me.

He spoke to me, but I pretended not to understand, hastily took the
change from the toll-keeper, and, raising my hat, shouted, "Drive on!"

This highly virtuous gentleman scorned the young actress, and as, on
account of my companions, he had not returned my greeting, Clara flashed
into comical wrath, which stifled in its germ my thought of leaving the
carriage and going on foot to Komptendorf, where Dr. Boltze believed me
to be.

Clara rewarded my courageous persistence by special gaiety, and when we
had reached Guben, taken supper with some other members of the company,
and spent the evening in merriment, danger and all the ills which the
future might bring were forgotten.