“It would have been more convenient if they had not come till a couple of days later,” Edward was saying; as Ottilie re-entered, “till we had finished with this business of the farm.  The deed of sale is complete.  One copy of it I have here, but we want a second, and our old clerk has fallen ill.”  The Captain offered his services, and so did Charlotte, but there was something or other to object to in both of them.

“Give it to me,” cried Ottilie, a little hastily.

“You will never be able to finish it,” said Charlotte.

“And really I must have it early the day after tomorrow, and it is long,” Edward added.

“It shall be ready,” Ottilie cried; and the paper was already in her hands.

The next morning, as they were looking out from their highest windows for their visitors, whom they intended to go some way and meet, Edward said, “Who is that yonder, riding slowly along the road?”

The Captain described accurately the figure of the horse-man.

“Then it is he,” said Edward; “the particulars, which you can see better than I, agree very well with the general figure, which I can see too.  It is Mittler; but what is he doing, coming riding at such a pace as that?”

The figure came nearer, and Mittler it veritably was.  They received him with warm greetings as he came slowly up the steps.

“Why did you not come yesterday?” Edward cried, as he approached.

“I do not like your grand festivities,” answered he; “but I am come today to keep my friend’s birthday with you quietly.”

“How are you able to find time enough?” asked Edward, with a laugh.

“My visit, if you can value it, you owe to an observation which I made yesterday.  I was spending a right happy afternoon in a house where I had established peace, and then I heard that a birthday was being kept here.  Now this is what I call selfish, after all, said I to myself:  you will only enjoy yourself with those whose broken peace you have mended.  Why cannot you for once go and be happy with friends who keep the peace for themselves?  No sooner said than done.  Here I am, as I determined with myself that I would be.”

“Yesterday you would have met a large party here; today you will find but a small one,” said Charlotte; “you will meet the Count and the Baroness, with whom you have had enough to do already, I believe.”

Out of the middle of the party, who had all four come down to welcome him, the strange man dashed in the keenest disgust, seizing at the same time his hat and whip.  “Some unlucky star is always over me,” he cried, “directly I try to rest and enjoy myself.  What business have I going out of my proper character?  I ought never to have come, and now I am persecuted away.  Under one roof with those two I will not remain, and you take care of yourselves.  They bring nothing but mischief; their nature is like leaven, and propagates its own contagion.”