by the work of their hands. But Gotzkowsky had come to them as a
helping benefactor; he had given Balthazar a considerable sum of
money, and his daughter Elise had bestowed a dower upon the bride.
On this day, Elise's eighteenth birthday, was to be celebrated the
marriage of the happy couple. No wonder, then, that they regarded
Gotzkowsky with feelings almost of adoration, and that this young girl
appeared to them as a benevolent angel.

Elise had just come into the garden with her father, and had taken
her seat at the table of the bridal pair. Next to her sat a young
man, whose mild and noble countenance seemed to be lighted up with
happiness and adoration whenever he looked upon her. He followed every
one of her motions with watchful eyes, and the most trifling shade,
the slightest change in the expression of her countenance, did not
escape him. At times he sighed, reading perhaps in her features the
secret thoughts of her soul, and these thoughts saddened him, and
clouded his bright clear eye.

This young man, who sat at Elise's side, was Bertram, Gotzkowsky's
head book-keeper. From his earliest youth he had been in the house of
the rich manufacturer, who had adopted the poor orphan, and treated
him as a tender father would have done, and Bertram loved him with all
the affection of a son. And never by the lips of a true son was the
name of father pronounced with more warmth and tenderness than by this
son, adopted and won by deeds of generosity.

But Bertram, who called Gotzkowsky father, had never ventured to call
Gotzkowsky's daughter sister. Brought up together, they had in their
childhood shared their games, their childish joys and sorrows with one
another; he had been a protecting brother to her, she an affectionate