in Vendsyssel--that is an extent! Almost always wet mists float
over its unapproachable interior, which is known to no one. It is
not yet fifty years since it served as an abode for wolves. Often
it bursts into flames, for it is impregnated with sulphuric gas,--
one can see the fire for miles."

"My sister Sophie ought to hear all this!" said Wilhelm. "You would
make your fortune with her! The dear girl! she has the best head at
home, but she loves effect. Hoffman and Victor Hugo are her
favorites. Byron rests every night under her pillow. If you related
such things of the west coast of Jutland, and of heaths and moors,
you might persuade her to make a journey thither. One really would
not believe that we possessed in our own country such romantic
situations!"

"Is she your only sister?" inquired Otto.

"No," returned Wilhelm, "I have two--the other is named Louise; she
is of quite an opposite character: I do not know of which one ought
to think most. Have you no brothers or sisters?" he asked of Otto.

"No!" returned the latter, with his former involuntary, half-melancholy
expression. "I am an only child. In my house it is solitary and silent.
My grandfather alone is left alive. He is an active, strong man, but
very grave. He instructed me in mathematics, which he thoroughly
understands. The preacher taught me Latin, Greek, and history: two
persons, however, occupied themselves with my religious education--
the preacher and my old Rosalie. She is a good soul. How often have
I teased her, been petulant, and almost angry with her! She thought
so much of me, she was both mother and sister to me, and instructed