ly, and obeyed. In the meantime we stood
motionless beside each other, and my heart beat so violently that I
could not utter a word. Her eyes were fixed on mine with a grave
expression partly of inquiry, and partly of wonder.

A last she regained her full composure, and appeared to understand what
a moment before had been unintelligible to her. She stretched out her
hand which I eagerly seized, but dared not press to my lips.

"Come and sit down beside me," she said, "I have much to tell you. Do
you see this portrait before us? It is my mother's; she died long ago.
When I got your letter I sat down before her and asked her what answer
I ought to give you. It seemed to me that she assented to nothing but
the truth. And the truth is, that from the moment I saw you in the
carriage, all my thoughts went with you, and there they will remain
till I die." I cannot express what I felt at these simple words. I fell
on my knees before her, seized both her hands and covered them with
kisses and tears.

"Why do you weep," she asked and tried to raise me, "Are you not happy?
I am full of joyfulness. I have suffered much, but now all is blotted
out. Now I only know that we are firmly united and I can never again be
unhappy."

She rose, I sprang up. Intoxicated with joy, I tried to press her to my
heart, but she gently stepped back.

"No, Amadeus," she said, "that must not be. You now know that I am
yours, and will never be taken from you by any other man; but let us be
calm. I have considered the matter during the long night that has
passed. You cannot come here any more. I have promised it to poor
Fabio. This is the first, and the last time that we meet here. If you
repeated your visit I should soon have no other will but yours, and I
will never dishonour my father's name. Listen, you must go to him, you
will find no difficulty in introducing yourself in his house, so many
young men," she added with a sigh, "even perfect strangers are received
there. When he knows you more intimately, and has given you his
confidence, then demand my hand. You may also tell him that we know
each other and that I will never marry any other than you. All the rest
leave to me, and above all promise not to speak of this to my
stepmother; she does not love me, does not wish me to be happy. Oh,
Amadeus, is it possible that you can love me as much as I love you? Did
you not feel the first time we met, as if a flash of lightning had
fallen from heaven,