Fink had only spoken of himself; had he thought of her happiness in the matter--had he even felt what it would cost her to leave her beloved brother, her country, and her home?
True, Fink was the very man to scatter the blossoms of the New World profusely at her feet, but he was always restless; actively employed, would he have any sympathy for the feelings of his German wife?
And involuntarily our hero found himself taking part against his friend, and deciding that Sabine ought not to leave the home and brother to whom she was so essential; and, absorbed in these thoughts, Anton paced up and down, anxious and heavy-hearted.
It grew dark, and still Fink did not return.
Meanwhile he was announced to Sabine.

She came hurriedly to meet him, and her cheeks were redder than usual as she said, "My brother has told me that you must leave us." Fink began in some agitation, "I must not, I can not leave without having spoken openly to you.

I came here without any interest in the quiet life to which I had been so unaccustomed.

I have here learned the worth and the happiness of a German home.

You I have ever honored as the good spirit of the house.