Lupinus gazed upon all these costly things with a glad and happy heart, and as he raised the satin robe and danced smilingly to the great mirror, nothing of the grave, earnest, dignified scholar was to be seen in his mien; suddenly he paused, and stood breathlessly listening.  It seemed to him some one knocked lightly on the outer door, then again louder.

“That is Eckhof,” whispered Lupinus.  He left the mysterious little room, hastily closed the door, and placed the key in his bosom, then opened the outer door.

Yes, it was Eckhof.  He entered with a beaming face, with a gay and happy smile.  Lupinus had never seen him so joyous.  He clasped his young friend so ardently in his arms, that he could scarcely breathe; he pressed so glowing a kiss upon his cheek, that Lupinus trembled, and was overcome by his own emotion.

“See, Lupinus, how much I love you!” said Eckhof.  “I come first to you, that you may sympathize with me in my great joy.  Almost oppressed by the sense of heavenly bliss, which seemed in starry splendor to overshadow me, I thought, ’I must go to Lupinus; he alone will understand me.’  I am here to say to you, ’Rejoice with me, for I am happy.’  I ran like a madman through the streets.  Oh! friend, you have not seen my sorrow; I have concealed the anguish of my soul.  I loved you boundlessly, and I would not fill your young, pure soul with sadness.  But you dared look upon my rapture; you, my most faithful, best-beloved friend, shall share my joy.”

“Tell me, then, at once, what makes you happy?” said Lupinus, with trembling lips, and with the pallor of death from excitement and apprehension.

“And you ask, my innocent and modest child,” said Eckhof, laughing.  “You do not yet know that love alone makes a man wretched or infinitely happy.  I was despairing because I did not know if I was beloved, and this uncertainty made a madman of me.”

“And now?” said Lupinus.

“And now I am supremely happy—­she loves me; she has confessed it this day.  Oh! my friend, I almost tore this sweet, this heavenly secret from her heart.  I threatened her, I almost cursed her.  I lay at her feet, uttering wild words of rebuke and bitter reproach.  I was mad with passion; resolved to slay myself, if she did not then and there disclose to me either her love or her contempt.  I dared all, to win all.  She stood pallid and trembling before me, and, as I railed at her, she extended her arms humbly and pleadingly toward me.  Oh! she was fair and beautiful as a pardoning angel, with these glistening tears in her wondrous, dreamy eyes, fair and beautiful as a houri of Paradise; when at last, carried away by her own heart, she bowed down and confessed that she loved me; that she would be mine—­mine, in spite of her distinguished birth, in spite of all the thousand obstacles which interposed.  One wild day I exclaimed, ’Oh! my God, my God!  I am set apart to be an artiste; thou hast consecrated me by misfortune.’  To-day, I feel that only when I am truly happy can I truly create.  From this day alone will I truly be an artiste.  I have now received the heavenly consecration of happiness.”