though it seems momentarily to be working in the wrong direction.
He stood up.
"If you run for the Town Council I will support you." Diederich stared, unable to understand him. The old man's eyes were blue and deep, and he was just offering Diederich the public office for which Diederich had ruined his son-in-law. He did not know whether to spit in disgust, or crawl away in shame. He decided it was preferable to click his heels and politely to tender his thanks.
"You see," the old man resumed, "a sense of the common welfare bridges the gap between young and old, and even extends beyond to those who are no longer with us."
He moved his hands in a circle over the walls where the people of former times seemed to step out of their painted background, faded but full of gaiety. He smiled at the young girls in their hoop skirts, and also at one of his nieces and Meta Harnisch, who were passing. When he turned his face towards the old Mayor, who was coming through the city gate, amidst flowers and children, Diederich noticed the similarity between them. Old Buck pointed out one person and then another amongst the people in the pictures.
"I have heard a great deal about that man. I used to know that lady. Doesn't the clergyman look like Pastor Zillich? No, there can never be a serious estrangement between us. For a long time past we have been jointly pledged to good-will and our common progress, also by those who bequeathed to us this Harmony Club."
"Nice harmony!" thought Diederich, as he looked about for an excuse to get away. The old gentleman, as usual, had made a transition from business to sentimental twaddle. "The literary gent is always in evidence," was Diederich's reflection.
Just then Guste Daimchen and Inge Tietz passed; Guste had taken her arm and Inge was bragging about her experi-
