er way," said Rudy; "I came over the
mountains. There is no road so high that a man may not venture upon
it."

"Ah, yes; and break your neck," said the miller; "and you look
like one who will break his neck some day, you are so daring."

"Oh, nothing ever happens to a man if he has confidence in
himself," replied Rudy.

The miller's relations at Interlachen, with whom the miller and
Babette were staying, invited Rudy to visit them, when they found he
came from the same canton as the miller. It was a most pleasant visit.
Good fortune seemed to follow him, as it does those who think and
act for themselves, and who remember the proverb, "Nuts are given to
us, but they are not cracked for us." And Rudy was treated by the
miller's relations almost like one of the family, and glasses of
wine were poured out to drink to the welfare of the best shooter.
Babette clinked glasses with Rudy, and he returned thanks for the
toast. In the evening they all took a delightful walk under the
walnut-trees, in front of the stately hotels; there were so many
people, and such crowding, that Rudy was obliged to offer his arm to
Babette. Then he told her how happy it made him to meet people from
the canton Vaud,--for Vaud and Valais were neighboring cantons. He
spoke of this pleasure so heartily that Babette could not resist
giving his arm a slight squeeze; and so they walked on together, and
talked and chatted like old acquaintances. Rudy felt inclined to laugh
sometimes at the absurd dress and walk of the foreign ladies; but
Babette did not wish to make fun of them, for she knew there must be
some good, excellent people amongst them; she, herself, had a
godmother, who was a high-born English lady. Eighteen years before,
when Babette was christened, this lady was staying at Bex, and she
stood godmother for her, and gave her the valuable brooch she now wore
in her bosom.

Her godmother had twice written to her, and this year she was
expected to visit Interlachen with her two daughters; "but they are
old-maids," added Babette, who was only eighteen: "they are nearly
thirty." Her sweet little mouth was never still a moment, and all that
she said sounded in Rudy's ears as matters of the greatest importance,
and at last he told her what he was longing to tell. How often he
had been at Bex, how well he knew the mill, and how often he had
seen Babette, when most likely she had not noticed him; and lastly,
that full of many thoughts which he cou