The merchant raised his glass.

"Welcome to your country! Welcome home!" cried Sabine.

Anton replied, in a low tone, "I have a country, I have a home in which I am happy; I owe both to your kindness.
Many an evening, when sitting in some wretched inn, far away among savage strangers, whose language I imperfectly understood, I have thought of this table, and of the delight it would be to me to see this room and your face once more; for it is the bitterest thing on earth to be alone in hours of relaxation and repose without a friend, without any thing that one loves." As he bade them good-night, the principal said, "Wohlfart, I wish to bind you still more closely to this firm.

Jordan is leaving us next quarter to become a partner in his uncle's business; I can not appoint a better man than you to fill his place." When Anton returned to his room, he felt what mortal man is seldom allowed to feel here below, unpunished by a reverse--that he was perfectly happy, without a regret and without a wish.

He sat on the sofa, looked at the flowers and at the cushion, and again saw in fancy Sabine bending over his hand.