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“Upon my life, the romance has begun in earnest,” laughed Helen, as she examined the flowers. “You are serenaded by some unknown nightingale, and I have flowers tossed up to me in the charming old style. Of course it is the baron, Amy.”

“I hope so; but whoever it is, they are regular troubadours, and I’m delighted. I know the gloves will bring us fun of some kind. Do you take one and I’ll take the other, and see who will find the baron first. Isn’t it odd that they knew our names?”

“Amy, the writing on this card is very like that in the big book. I may be bewitched by this mid-summer moonlight, but it really is very like it. Come and see.”

The two charming heads bent over the card, looking all the more charming for the dishevelled curls and braids that hung about them as the girls laughed and whispered together in the softly brilliant light that filled the room.

“You are right; it is the same. The men who stared so at dinner are gay students perhaps, and ready for any prank. Don’t tell uncle, but let us see what will come of it. I begin to enjoy myself heartily now–don’t you?” said Amy, laying her glove carefully away.

“I enjoyed myself before, but I think ‘La belle Helene‘ gives an added relish to life, Amie,” laughed Nell, putting her flowers in water; and then both went back to their pillows, to dream delightfully till morning.

II

KARL, THE COURIER

“Three days, at least, before we reach Baden. How tiresome it is that uncle won’t go faster!” said Amy, as she tied on her hat next morning, wondering as she did so if the baron would take the same boat.

“As adventures have begun, I feel assured that they will continue to cheer the way; so resign yourself and be ready for anything,” replied Helen, carefully arranging her bouquet in her travelling-basket.

A tap at the door, which stood half open, made both look up. A tall, brown, gentlemanly man, in a gray suit, with a leathern bag slung over his shoulder, stood there, hat in hand, and meeting Helen’s eyes, bowed respectfully, saying in good English, but with a strong German accent,–

“Ladies, the major desired me to tell you the carriage waits.”

“Why, who–” began Amy, staring with her blue eyes full of wonder at the stranger.

He bowed again, and said, simply,–

“Karl Hoffman, at your service, mademoiselle.”

“The courier–oh, yes! I forgot all about it. Please take these things.”

Amy began to hand him her miscellaneous collection of bags, books, shawls and cushions.

“I’d no idea couriers were such decent creatures,” whispered Amy, as they followed him along the hall.

“Don’t you remember the raptures Mrs. Mortimer used to have over their Italian courier, and her funny description of him? ‘Beautiful to behold, with a night of hair, eyes full of an infinite tenderness, and a sumptuous cheek.'”

Both girls laughed, and Amy averred that Karl’s eyes danced with merriment as he glanced over his shoulder, as the silvery peal sounded behind him.

“Hush! he understands English; we must be careful,” said Helen, and neither spoke again till they reached the carriage.

Everything was ready, and as they drove away, the major, leaning luxuriously back, exclaimed,–

“Now I begin to enjoy travelling, for I’m no longer worried by the thought of luggage, time-tables, trains, and the everlasting perplexity of thalers, kreutzers, and pfenniges. This man is a treasure; everything is done in the best manner, and his knowledge of matters is really amazing.”

“He’s a very gentlemanly-looking person,” said Amy, eying a decidedly aristocratic foot through the front window of the carriage, for Karl sat up beside the driver.

“He is a gentleman, my dear. Many of these couriers are well born and educated, but, being poor, prefer this business to any other, as it gives them variety, and often pleasant society. I’ve had a long talk with Hoffman, and find him an excellent and accomplished fellow. He has lost his fortune, it seems, through no fault of his own, so being fond of a roving life, turned courier for a time, and we are fortunate to have secured him.”