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Updated: June 21, 2025


"Young people find such melody in 'Songs without Words. But I want you to listen to this nocturne of Chopin's, though it is not a morning song." Violet listens entranced. Floyd watches her face, where the soft lights come and go. If she could always look like that! But Freilgrath cannot spend the whole morning at the piano.

Perhaps it would be foolish to let it stand up in ghostly remembrance when something fond and strong and comforting was offered. But which of all these is love? She is yet to learn its Proteus shapes and disguises. Nothing is courtesy unless it be meant friendly and lovingly. The world is amazed that Prof. Freilgrath, the savant and explorer, is to take unto himself an American wife.

If I were not an old tramp, with a knapsack on my shoulder, I do not know what would happen! I might be the fly in the flame!" Floyd laughs amusedly. There is about as much danger of Freilgrath falling in love with her as there is of himself. Would he have, he wonders, if other events had not crowded in and almost taken the right of choice from him?

"Good night," John Latimer says, as they stand at the gate of the eyrie. They have been spending a delightful evening. Prof. Freilgrath is on his way home, and after a brief visit must make a flying trip to Germany. Latimer has half decided to go with him, and has been persuading Floyd. It looks very tempting, a two or three months' vacation.

He is curiously moved by the professor's very earnest regard, though he knows it must half be pity, tenderness. His face is bright and cheerful, and his voice rings out heartily. He will bring back Frau Freilgrath so stout and rosy that no one will recognize her. They are all very tired when they reach home. Mrs. Grandon is the happiest. She is the mother of two well-married daughters.

Freilgrath takes her to supper, promenades with her, and is quite delightful for an old bookworm. Mr. Latimer talks to her and finds her a great improvement on Marcia, but the German keeps thinking over her poor little story. If there was something for her to do! and he racks his brain.

Freilgrath, quite different from their old, round, bald German teacher. He is tall and martial-looking, with a fine head, and hair on the auburn tint, a little curling and thin at the edge of the high forehead. His eyes are light blue, keen, good-humored, and he wears glasses; his nose is large, his mouth rather wide, but his teeth are perfect.

"The fraulein is to come often," says Freilgrath, lapsing into his native idiom. "It has done her good already; her eyes have brightened. She stays within doors too much." Gertrude's wan face flushes delicately. When they reach home the dinner-bell rings, and they all feel like truants who have been out feasting on forbidden fruit.

He admires beauty and grace and refinement, and it is here at its best, its finest. Not mere youthfulness. There are distinguished people, who would have gone twice the distance to meet Mr. Grandon and Prof. Freilgrath. The Latimers are really enchanted, and Mrs. Delancy rises in the esteem of many who have looked upon her as simply a bright and pretty girl who has made a good marriage.

"I should suppose the servants might be trusted, and surely Marcia knows enough to order a meal. You do need a holiday. Come, just think you can go. I shall be in the city a good deal the next month, and as Freilgrath has a domicile of his own yes, you must answer this immediately." She has a few other flimsy objections, but Floyd demolishes everything, and almost threatens to write for her.

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