There they got out, the gentlemen all surrounding their young lady, and loud music sounding a welcome as they entered the beechen avenues of the garden, which was bright to-day with gay toilettes from the town.
Sabine floated on with a perfect nebula of gentlemen around her.
Possibly this court would have given more pleasure to most other women, but, at all events, the effect was very striking.

The gentle Liebold's face wore a continual smile of delight, which he was obliged to suppress, as well as he could, from the fear of being supposed to laugh at the passers-by: Sabine's shawl hung on his arm.

Specht had, by a bold _coup de main_, possessed himself of her parasol, and walked on, hoping that some falling blossom, some passing butterfly, might afford him a pretext for beginning a conversation with her.

But this was no easy matter, for Fink was on the other side.

He was in one of his most malevolent moods, and Sabine could not help laughing against her will at his unmerciful comments upon many of the company.