peasant-girl, the more she loved, the more
dread had she to hear love mentioned. "Talk of something else."
Nevertheless, she was well content to sit in perfect silence, with her
hand in his; while nothing was to be heard but the cooing of the
turtle-doves in their cote and the monotonous tick of the Black Forest
clock.

Agnes, who had wisely absented herself, at length returned.

"Make him talk," said Hedwig, rising. "Ho won't do any thing but look
at me."

Her eye fell to the looking-glass as she passed it; but she quickly
averted it, for she seemed to have seen a perfect stranger, so
unaccountable was the change which had come over the expression of her
features.

The teacher sat motionless, dreaming with open eyes.

Agnes sang, as she skipped about the room, snapping her fingers,--

"How is it, I wonder,
When sweetheart I see,
I want to be talking,
But yet it won't gee?
'No, no,' and 'Yes, yes,'
And 'I s'pose,' and 'In course,'
Is often the whole of our loving discourse."

"Come, wake up!" said she, shaking the teacher's arm; "stir your
stumps. 'I lost my stocking at Lauterbach:'" and she danced around the
room, dragging him after her.

Thaddie now came in, and general hilarity with him. In a grand council
the politic resolve was taken that, if the Constantine question should
be still unadjusted when harvest-home came on, the teacher was to
attend Agnes at the festival, while Thaddie was to figure as the
nominal escort of Hedwig.

After a long conversation in anticipation of what the future was
expected to bring forth, Agnes called upon the teacher to reward her
intervention by telling a story. The others joined their requests to
hers. The teacher offered to go home to get a book; but this was not
permitted: he had nothing to do but begin at once.

Collecting his thoughts with an effort, he launched into the story of
the Beautiful Magelona. At first he spoke almost without intonation,
hardly knowing what he said, and thinking more of Hedwig's hand, which
rested in his, than of the tale. As the interest of the narrative
increased, he closed his eyes, and resigned his imagination entirely to
the world of wonders and witchery he was describing. His hearers hung
upon his words with beaming eyes, and Hedwig's heart bounded within
her.

When he had finished, Agnes took his head b