Nearly two years later Reinhard was sitting by lamplight with his
books and papers around him, expecting a friend with whom he used to
study in common. Some one came upstairs. "Come in." It was the
landlady. "A letter for you, Herr Werner," and she went away.
Reinhard had never written to Elisabeth since his visit home, and he
had received no letter from her. Nor was this one from her; it was in
his mother's handwriting.
Reinhard broke the seal and read, and ere long he came to this
paragraph:
"At your time of life, my dear boy, nearly every year still brings its
own peculiar experience; for youth is apt to turn everything to the
best account. At home, too, things have changed very much, and all
this will, I fear, cause you much pain at first, if my understanding
of you is at all correct.
"Yesterday Eric was at last accepted by Elisabeth, after having twice
proposed in vain during the last three months. She had never been able
to make up her mind to it, but now in the end she has done so. To my
mind she is still far too young. The wedding is to take place soon,
and her mother means to go away with them."
* * * * *