"He is gone!" announced the cousin, returning from an interview with some of the domestics.
"Another trick of his friend Fink," said the merchant.
Sabine looked down at her work.

"I am glad," said she at length, "that Fink should use his influence to give his friend pleasure.

He himself does not care for dancing, and I am sure that to attend these lessons is in him an act of self-denial; and I am also truly glad that Wohlfart, who has hitherto led such a solitary life, should go a little into society." "But into such society as this?
How is it possible!" cried the cousin.
Sabine tapped the table with her thimble.

"Fink has spoken highly of him, and that was good and kind.

And, in spite of the grave face of my dear brother, he shall, as a reward, have his favorite dish to-morrow." "Ham, with Burgundy sauce," added the cousin.
Meanwhile Fink and Anton were entering Frau von Baldereck's lighted rooms, and Fink, whispering, "Come, summon all your courage; you have nothing to fear," led his unresisting friend up to the lady of the house, by whom they were most graciously received, and who, saying at once to Anton, "I will introduce you to Countess Pontak," led him off to a gaunt lady of uncertain age, who sat on a slightly-elevated seat, surrounded by a small court of her own.