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"Master Jacobi, are you fond of roast hare?" whispered Petrea, waggishly, to the Candidate. "Bravo, Petrea!" whispered her brother to her. "Cousin Louise, are you fond of cold meat?" asked the Landed-proprietor, as he handed Louise to the supper-table. "Should you like to be a landed-proprietor?" whispered Henrik to her as she left it.

As these were ready to receive the company, Jacobi drove his Medewi-carriage close on the landau of the Landed-proprietor, who looked more than once with a dark countenance to see whether any profane or injurious contact had taken place between the great and the little carriage. Jacobi's heart beat violently as Louise came out on the steps of the inn door.

But he was not long permitted to sit in peace by her side, for very soon the seat on the other side of her was occupied by a person whom we will call "the Landed-proprietor," from the circumstance of his most eminent distinction being the possession of an estate in the neighbourhood of the town.

The Candidate seats himself near them, and appears determined to amuse himself with them, and to be lively; but "the object" assumes all the more her "cathedral air." The Landed-proprietor steps in, bows, snorts, and kisses the hand of the "gracious aunt." Landed-proprietor. Very cold this evening; I fancy we shall have frost. Elise. It is a gloomy spring.

Landed-proprietor.. Nay, that is good! that is excellent! At Oestanvik my dressing-room furniture is blue, beautiful light blue silk damask; but in my sleeping-room I have green moreen. I fancy really, Cousin Louise, that The Candidate coughs, and then rushes out of the room.

"Pardon me," said the Candidate, and was advancing; but the Landed-proprietor held him back, whilst he inquired with great earnestness, and with a self-satisfied smile, "Hear you, my friend: can you tell me whether Cousin Louise is in the garden? I came this moment from her parents, and would now speak with her. Can you tell me where she is?"

The Landed-proprietor appeared to the Candidate we will for the future adhere to this our old appellation, for, in a certain sense, in this world, all men are Candidates quite disposed to make a quarrel about the place he was inclined to take.

Louise looks after him, sighs, and then examines the cards, in which she finds so many misfortunes for Cousin Thure that he is quite terrified: the peas frosted, conflagration in the dressing-room, and last of all a rejection! The Landed-proprietor declares, notwithstanding, that he finds nothing of this unpleasant. The sisters smile, and make remarks.

Among those who remained behind, we see the friend of the family Jeremias Munter, who wore on the occasion the grimmest countenance in the world; the Baron L., who was no more the wild extravagant youth, but a man, and beyond this, a landed-proprietor, whose grave demeanour was beautified by a certain, agreeable sobriety, particularly visible when he spoke with "our little lady," at whose feet he was seated.

Mamma must not tell," exclaimed Gabriele, terrified. "What king do you set up above all other kings, Master Jacobi?" for the second time asked Petrea, who this evening had a sort of question mania. "Charles the Thirteenth," replied he, and listened to Louise's answer to the Landed-proprietor. "Cousin Louise, are you fond of birds?" asked the Landed-proprietor.