everything he said. What could I do? I let them name the day
then and there."

Frau von Eschenhagen laughed.

"The young are in a hurry to marry, though they have plenty of time to
wait."

"The old have none to spare, though," said the head forester promptly,
glad of so good a chance to get on the subject near his heart. "Have you
reflected enough over our little affair, Regine?"

"What affair?"

"Why, our marriage. I trust you are in the humor for it now." Regine
turned away somewhat embarrassed.

"How you do love to take one by surprise, Moritz."

"So that is what you call taking by surprise?" cried the head forester,
irritated. "Over five years ago I asked you to marry me, then last year
a second time, and now for the third time, so you have had plenty of
time to consider the matter. Yes, or no? If you send me away this time
I'll never come again, understand that!"

Regine did not answer, but it was not indecision which made her
hesitate. Notwithstanding her hard, unyielding nature, deep down in her
heart there had always been a warm feeling for the man who was to have
been her husband long years ago, for Hartmut von Falkenried. When he had
turned from her she had married another, for she had no thought of
leading a desolate, useless life; but the same feeling of bitter woe
which had entered the young girl's heart was in the heart of the older
woman to-day and closed her lips. She stood silent for a few minutes,
then cast the sweet, sad memory from her forever, and gave her hand to
her brother-in-law:

"Well then, yes, Moritz! I will make you a good and true wife."

"Thank God!" said Schoenau earnestly, for he had feared her hesitation
would result in a third refusal. "You should have said that five years
ago, Regine, but better late than never. It's all right at last."

And with these words the persevering man folded her in his arms with
affectionate tenderness.

* * * * *

The sun shone down warm and bright on the meadow land and penetrated
even into the forest depths. It fell across the pathway of General von
Falkenried and his son and daughter, who were sauntering along under
the high firs on the way which led to Burgsdorf.

Falkenried did not seem the same man he had been for the past ten years.
The war which, despite its victories and final triumph, had made so many
old before their time, had affected him apparently in a different
manner. His white hair was thin