e
could not fail to understand him. Her face flushed painfully; she drew
back and made a hasty motion as if to prevent further speech.

"Herr von Eschenhagen, tell me no more."

"I cannot help it," Willibald continued, almost defiantly. "I fought it
over and over in my own mind when I was alone at Burgsdorf, and honestly
tried to keep my word. I thought it might be possible; then I came here
and saw you again--the other evening in 'Arivana'--and then I realized
that all my struggling had been in vain. I had not forgotten you,
Fraeulein Marietta, no, not for an hour, even while I was trying to
persuade myself you must be forgotten, and I should not have forgotten
you my whole life long. I will tell Toni all this frankly, and my
mother, too, when I see her again."

It was all out at last. The man who could not stand alone at
Fuerstenstein, and for whom his mother had done all the talking and
planning, spoke now, warmly and earnestly, from his very heart, as only
a man can speak in such an hour. He had learned what liberty meant when
his affections were aroused, and with this knowledge he had forever cast
aside the dependence of habit and indifference.

He crossed the room to Marietta, who had gone back to the window.

"And now one question. You were very pale when you opened the door for
me, and had been crying. Of course this affair was very painful to you.
I can understand that, but--but were you the least bit anxious--on my
account?"

He received no answer. There was only a low, stifled sob.

"Were you anxious about me? Only a little 'yes;' you cannot know,
Marietta, how happy it will make me."

He bent over the maiden whose head had sunk so low, but he could not see
the gleam of happiness which lighted up her face as she said softly: "I
have been so anxious that life has hardly been endurable the past two
days."

Willibald gave a laugh of exultation, and tried to draw her into his
arms; she gave him one long look, and then released herself.

"No, no, not now. Go--I beg you."

He stepped back at once.

"You are right, Marietta. Not now; but when I am free, I shall come to
you and beg for another 'yes.' Good-bye. God bless you!"

He was gone in an instant, before Marietta could collect her thoughts;
and now the voice of her old kinswoman, who had entered the room a
moment before, unperceived by its occupants, recalled her to herself.

"My child, what is this, what does it mean? Have you both forgotten--