What a child is man that he should be so solicitous about a look! What a
child is man! We had been to Walheim: the ladies went in a carriage;
but during our walk I thought I saw in Charlotte's dark eyes—I am a
fool—but forgive me! you should see them,—those eyes.—However, to be
brief (for my own eyes are weighed down with sleep), you must know,
when the ladies stepped into their carriage again, young W. Seldstadt,
Andran, and I were standing about the door. They are a merry set of
fellows, and they were all laughing and joking together. I watched
Charlotte's eyes. They wandered from one to the other; but they did not
light on me, on me, who stood there motionless, and who saw nothing but
her! My heart bade her a thousand times adieu, but she noticed me not.
The carriage drove off; and my eyes filled with tears. I looked after
her: suddenly I saw Charlotte's bonnet leaning out of the window, and
she turned to look back, was it at me? My dear friend, I know not; and
in this uncertainty I find consolation. Perhaps she turned to look at
me. Perhaps! Good-night—what a child I am!