My time is much engrossed; but, if you should ever need advice or assistance, I hope you will apply directly to myself." This short audience over, he rose and led Anton to the dining-room, where all his colleagues were assembled; next, Sabine entered, accompanied by an elderly lady, a distant relation, who looked very good-natured.

The clerks made their obeisance, and Anton took the seat appointed to him at the end of a long table, among the younger of his brethren.

Opposite him sat Sabine, beside her brother, then the elderly relative, and next to her, Fink.

On the whole, it was a silent dinner.
Anton's neighbors said little, and that under their breath; but Fink rattled away with thorough unconcern, told droll stories, mimicked voices and manners, and was exaggerated in his attentions to the good-natured relative.

Anton was positively horrified at this freedom, and fancied that the principal did not like it much better.