ped, and danced the old
national dance, now wellnigh forgotten: he smacked his tongue, struck
his breast and his thighs, swayed himself on his toes and his heels
alternately, and executed all sorts of flourishes. Now he would hold
his lady, now let her go, and trip round and round her with
outstretched arms and loving gestures. Christina looked down modestly,
but with manifest enjoyment, and turned round and round, almost without
stirring from the spot on which she stood. Holding a corner of her
apron in her hand, she slipped now under his right arm, now under his
left, and sometimes they both turned under their uplifted arms. With a
jump which shook the floor, Valentine concluded the dance.

Thus was their vacation full of joy, in the house and out of it.

14.
THE QUARREL.

Once more Ivo was compelled to leave these things behind and return to
the convent. He no longer met Clement there, the latter having obtained
permission to leave a year before the usual time, in order to enter a
Bavarian monastery.

A new pang awaited him in the fate of Bart, of whom we, like him, have
lost sight for some years. The poor, good-natured, but weak-minded,
youth was in a terrible condition. He gnawed his finger-nails
incessantly, and rubbed his hands as if they were cold: his walk was
unsteady and tottering; the color of his face was a livid green; his
cheeks were sunken; while the red nose and the ever-open mouth made the
lank, ungainly lad a fright to look upon. He was not far from
imbecility, and had to be transferred to the hospital. It was intended
to make an effort for his recovery and then discharge him from the
convent. Ivo shuddered when he went to see him. The only signs of
mental vigor he displayed took the form of frenzied self-accusation.

The very air of the place now seemed infected. The design which had
long worked within Ivo's breast at last became an outward act, and he
wrote a letter to his parents, informing them of his unalterable
resolution to leave the convent, as he could not become a clergyman:
further than this he entered into no argumentations, well knowing that
they would lead to no result. He would have been called ungodly if he
had disclosed them fully, and thus the pain he caused would have been
double. With a firm hand he wrote the letter; but with trembling he
dropped it into the letter-box in the dusk of evening. As the paper
gli