Walker-My_Musical_Ex.. - Walter Cosand

HENSELT 167
sat in the pew, which belonged to him and was in a
prominent place in the aisle. He had a seat in the
gallery, where he liked to feel as if he were alone.
When we were coming out of church, the house-
keeper, with whom I. had got on rather pleasant
terms during our somewhat lengthened walk to
church, brought me to see the grave of the Von
Henselts' only child—a young officer who had died
about five years before. We were standing there
— ;
I was reading the inscription on the tombstone, ' Die
Liebe dauert ewig ' (' Love is eternal ')—when I per-
ceived Henselt coming towards us. I felt very, very
awkward, for I asked myself what right had I, a
stranger, a foreigner, to be standing there ? He did
not seem to mind, however, for he came up to us,
just nodded to his housekeeper; shook hands with
me, and saying, ' I shall see you at dinner to-day,'
went off with the stride of a sturdy old warrior who
finds no one who can keep step with him.
At one o'clock that day I dined at the Villa von
Henselt, and was so charmed with the old couple,
that as I looked at them the tears came more than
once into my eyes. They were both aged, and I
knew I could not hope to have them for very long
in fact, I half wished that I had not come to know
them. I had lost many friends, and I shrank from
making friends only to lose them.
Each of this venerable pair drew out my sym-
pathies, though quite in a different way. Prau von