“Good!” rapped Kerry, and made a note on the block.
"Professor," said the old man, with composure, "I only intended finishing the chapter which I have just commenced, and then I should have risen. You came a little too soon. It was your own fault if I was compelled to read after you came."
Gellert smiled. "What book were you reading so earnestly, my old friend?"
"The 'Swedish Countess,' professor. You know it is my favorite book. I am reading it now for the twelfth time, and I still think it the most beautiful and touching, as well as the most sensible book I ever read. It is entirely beyond my comprehension, professor, how you made it, and how you could have recollected all these charming histories. Who related all that to you?"
"No one related it to me, it came from my own head and heart," said Gellert, pleasantly. "But no, that is a very presumptuous thought; it did not come from myself, but from the great spirit, who occasionally sends a ray of his Godlike genius to quicken the hearts and imaginations of poets."
"I do not understand you, professor," said Conrad, impatiently. "Why do you not talk like the book--I understand all that the 'Swedish Countess' says, for she speaks like other people. She is an altogether sensible and lovely woman, and I have thought sometimes, professor--"
Old Conrad hesitated and looked embarrassed.
"Well, Conrad, what have you thought?"
"I have thought sometimes, sir, perhaps it would be best for you to marry the 'Swedish Countess,'"