"I feel to know the strong-minded lady who goes so bravely under many horse-noses, and so fast through much mud. What do you down here, my friend?"

      "I'm shopping."

      Mr. Bhaer smiled, as he glanced from the pickle-factory on one side, to the wholesale hide and leather concern on the other; but he only said politely,—

      "You haf no umbrella. May I go also, and take for you the bundles?"

      "Yes, thank you."

      Jo's cheeks were as red as her ribbon, and she wondered what he thought of her; but she didn't care, for in a minute she found herself walking away arm-in-arm with her Professor, feeling as if the sun had suddenly burst out with uncommon brilliancy, that the world was all right again, and that one thoroughly happy woman was paddling through the wet that day.

      "We thought you had gone," said Jo hastily, for she knew he was looking at her. Her bonnet wasn't big enough to hide her face, and she feared he might think the joy it betrayed unmaidenly.

      "Did you believe that I should go with no farewell to those who haf been so heavenly kind to me?" he asked so reproachfully that she felt as if she had insulted him by the suggestion, and answered heartily,—

      "No, I didn't; I knew you were busy about your own affairs, but we rather missed you,—father and mother especially."

      "And you?"

      "I'm always glad to see you, sir."

      In her anxiety to keep her voice quite calm, Jo made it rather cool, and the frosty little monosyllable at the end seemed to chill the Professor, for his smile vanished, as he said gravely,—

      "I thank you, and come one time more before I go."

      "You are going, then?"

      "I haf no longer any business here; it is done."

      "Successfully, I hope?" said Jo, for the bitterness of disappointment was in that short reply of his.

      "I ought to think so, for I haf a way opened to me by which I can make my bread and gif my J—nglings much help."

      "Tell me, please! I like to know all about the—the boys," said Jo eagerly.

      "That is so kind, I gladly tell you. My friends find for me a placein a college, where I teach as at home, and earn enough to make the way smooth for Franz and Emil. For this I should be grateful, should I not?"

      "Indeed you should. How splendid it will be to have you doing what you like, and be able to see you often, and the boys!" cried Jo, clinging to the lads as an excuse for the satisfaction she could not help betraying.

      "Ah! but we shall not meet often, I fear; this place is at the West."

      "So far away!" and Jo left her skirts to their fate, as if it didn't matter now what became of her clothes or herself.

      Mr. Bhaer could read several languages, but he had not learned to read women yet. He flattered himself that he knew Jo pretty well, and was, therefore, much amazed by the contradictions of voice, face, and manner, which she showed him in rapid succession that day, for she was in half a dozen different moods in the course of half an hour. When she met him she looked surprised, though it was impossible to help suspecting that she had come for that express purpose. When he offered her his arm, she took it with a look that filled him with delight; but when he asked if she missed him, she gave such a chilly, formal reply that despair fell upon him. On learning his good fortune she almost clapped her hands: was the joy all for the boys? Then, on hearing his destination, she said, "So far away!" in a tone of despair that lifted him on to a pinnacle of hope; but the next minute she tumbled him down again by observing, like one entirely absorbed in the matter,—

      "Here's the place for my errands; will you come in? It won't take long."

      Jo rather prided herself upon her shopping capabilities, and particularly wished to impress her escort with the neatness and despatch with which she would accomplish the business. But, owing to the flutter she was in, everything went amiss; she upset the tray of needles, forgot the silesia was to be "twilled" till it was cut off, gave the wrong change, and covered herself with confusion by asking for lavender ribbon at the calico counter. Mr. Bhaer stood by, watching her blush and blunder; and, as he watched, his own bewildermentseemed to subside, for he was beginning to see that on some occasions women, like dreams, go by contraries.

      When they came out, he put the parcel under his arm with a more cheerful aspect, and splashed through the puddles as if he rather enjoyed it, on the whole.

      "Should we not do a little what you call shopping for the babies, and haf a farewell feast to-night if I go for my last call at your so pleasant home?" he asked, stopping before a window full of fruit and flowers.

      "What will we buy?" said Jo, ignoring the latter part of his speech, and sniffing the mingled odors with an affectation of delight as they went in.

      "May they haf oranges and figs?" asked Mr. Bhaer, with a paternal air.

      "They eat them when they can get them."

      "Do you care for nuts?"

      "Like a squirrel."

      "Hamburg grapes; yes, we shall surely drink to the Fatherland in those?"

      Jo frowned upon that piece of extravagance, and asked why he didn't buy a frail of dates, a cask of raisins, and a bag of almonds, and done with it? Whereat Mr. Bhaer confiscated her purse, produced his own, and finished the marketing by buying several pounds of grapes, a pot of rosy daisies, and a pretty jar of honey, to be regarded in the light of a demijohn. Then, distorting his pockets with the knobby bundles, and giving her the flowers to hold, he put up the old umbrella, and they travelled on again.

      "Miss Marsch, I haf a great favor to ask of you," began the Professor, after a moist promenade of half a block.

      "Yes, sir;" and Jo's heart began to beat so hard she was afraid he would hear it.

      "I am bold to say it in spite of the rain, because so short a time remains to me."

      "Yes, sir;" and Jo nearly crushed the small flower-pot with the sudden squeeze she gave it.

      "I wish to get a little dress for my Tina, and I am too stupid to go alone. Will you kindly gif me a word of taste and help?"

      "Yes, sir;" and Jo felt as calm and cool, all of a sudden, as if she had stepped into a refrigerator.

      "Perhaps also a shawl for Tina's mother, she is so poor and sick, and the husband is such a care. Yes, yes, a thick, warm shawl would be a friendly thing to take the little mother."

      "I'll do it with pleasure, Mr. Bhaer. I'm going very fast and he's getting dearer every minute," added Jo to herself; then, with a mental shake, she entered into the business with an energy which was pleasant to behold.

      Mr. Bhaer left it all to her, so she chose a pretty gown for Tina,