She will
let him dangle, but she will let him drop!"
"Upon my word," I cried, with heat, "if she does, she will be a very
unprincipled little creature!"
Niedermeyer shrugged his shoulders. "I never said she was a saint!"
Shrewd as I felt Niedermeyer to be, I was not prepared to take his simple
word for this event, and in the evening I received a communication which
fortified my doubts. It was a note from Pickering, and it ran as
follows:--
"My Dear Friend--I have every hope of being happy, but I am to go to
Wiesbaden to learn my fate. Madame Blumenthal goes thither this
afternoon to spend a few days, and she allows me to accompany her.
Give me your good wishes; you shall hear of the result.
E. P."
One of the diversions of Homburg for new-comers is to dine in rotation at
the different tables d'hote. It so happened that, a couple of days
later, Niedermeyer took pot-luck at my hotel, and secured a seat beside
my own. As we took our places I found a letter on my plate, and, as it
was postmarked Wiesbaden, I lost no time in opening it. It contained but
three lines--
"I am happy--I am accepted--an hour ago. I can hardly believe it's
your poor friend
E. P."
I placed the note before Niedermeyer; not exactly in triumph, but with
the alacrity of all felicitous confutation.
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