"Read it, my boy," said Fink, with a sad smile; "in my family circle, father and son write each other no secrets." Anton read.

"The excellent accounts which Mr.Schroeter sends me of your practical sense and shrewdness in business lead me to request you to go over yourself, in which case I shall send Mr.Westlock, of our house, to assist you." Anton laid the letter down, and Fink asked, "What say you to this praise of the principal's?
You know that I had some reason to believe myself far from a favorite." "Be that as it may, I consider the praise just, and his estimate correct," replied Anton.
"At all events," said Fink, "it decides my fate.

I shall now be what I have long wished, a landed proprietor on the other side of the Atlantic.

And so, dear Anton, we must part," he continued, holding out his hand to his friend; "I had not thought the time would so soon come.
But we shall meet again." "Possibly," said Anton, sadly, holding the young nobleman's hand fondly in his.

"But now go to Mr.Schroeter; he has the first claim to hear this." "He knows it already; he has had a letter from my father." "The more reason why he should expect you." "You are right; let us go." Anton returned to his desk, and Fink went to the principal's little office.