ion, and left her to go up the steps alone, he
following with the carefully covered parcel which he took from under
the carriage-seat. He called her into the sitting-room, and there
solved the mystery by saying: "Annele, I give you with this the best
and dearest possession I have. My good Pilgrim painted it for me, and
it shall be yours."

Annele stared at the picture for which Lenz had so mysteriously
provided the gilt frame in the city.

"You cannot find words to describe the look my mother turns upon
you,--can you?"

"So that is your mother? I see her gown and her neckerchief and her
hood; but your mother! it might just as well be the carpenter's
Annelise or Faller's old mother. In fact, it looks rather more like old
Mrs. Faller. Why do you look so pale, as if you had not a drop of blood
left in your cheeks? Dear Lenz, can I say what is untrue? You surely do
not wish that. What fault is it of yours? Pilgrim is no artist. He
can't paint anything but his church-towers."

"It is like losing my mother over again to hear you speak so," said
Lenz.

"Don't be so sad," prayed Annele, tenderly. "I will honor the picture.
I will hang it up at once over my bed. You are not sad now,--are you?
You have been so kind and good to-day! I assure you, the picture will
help me recall your mother whenever I look at it."

Lenz turned hot and cold by turns. Thus could Annele at her pleasure
raise him to the highest happiness or wound him in his tenderest
affections. Weeks and months passed in this way. Joy predominated,
however, for a softness had come over Annele never known in her before.
Even Pilgrim said one day to Lenz: "Most men are glad to be proved in
the right, but I rejoice to see I was mistaken."

"So? In what?"

"There is no learning a woman. Annele has that in her which may make
your life happy. Very likely it is all the better she should not be as
dreamy and soft-hearted as you are."

"Thank you. Heaven be praised for bringing this to pass!" cried Lenz.

The two friends held each other long and closely by the hand.

CHAPTER XXI.

A GREAT WEDDING WHICH LEAVES A BITTER TASTE BEHIND.

Lenz of the Morgenhalde is to be married! This is the wedding day of
Annele of the Lion! Through the whole valley and far beyond its limits
this was the one subject of conversation. The same household talked at
one time of Annele only, and then only of Lenz. Their names had not yet
be