th; come often to see us; we are always glad of your
company."

On the evening of this sunny Easter day, while rosy clouds moved slowly
across the clear sky, and the golden glow faded in the far west behind the
wooded heights, Gertrude came back from a long walk in the fields and
woods. On one side of her strode Dietrich, talking rapidly and earnestly:
the fresh joy of youth was written in every movement of his little figure,
and laughed from the depths of his clear eyes. On the other side Veronica
walked, listening in silence. Her noble features, above which her black
hair fell in shining waves, had a serious, thoughtful expression, but
every now and then, when Dietrich let fall some particularly apt
expression, a look would cross her face that irradiated it like a sunbeam
crossing a shadowed plain. Mother Gertrude looked now proudly at her
radiant son, now approvingly at her stately daughter, and again she lifted
grateful glances towards the glowing heavens where she saw promise of
another brilliant day to come. Far and wide, in all Tannenegg, was not to
be found that day, such another happy mother as Gertrude.

When they reached the crossways where the footpath led up by the tavern of
the Rehbock, Dietrich turned into it, and his mother was about to follow
him, but Veronica drew her back, saying anxiously,

"Don't go that way, mother dear; it is not much farther by the other
road."

Dietrich laughed aloud.

"Now there it is again. Do you know, mother, that I can never get Veronica
to go past the Rehbock. She would rather go ten minutes farther round, and
she will not say why either. To-day, Veronica, I am determined that you
shall go this way or tell us why not."

"No; to-day we will not quarrel, Dietrich, please;" said the girl
entreatingly, but with a tone that showed no signs of yielding her point,
"let us sing a song as we go; mother loves to hear us sing."

As she spoke, she walked steadily along the road, and the others followed,

"Well then," said the lad, "let's sing 'Gladly and merrily'"--and he began
to sing the familiar tune.

"To-night I should rather sing the Fisher-boat," said Veronica, and
without demur the good-natured boy dropped his song, and joined his clear
tones with Veronica's steady voice, the two harmonizing perfectly as they
sang:

"A tiny boat, a fisher-boat,
Tossed lightly on the silver sea;
Around the rocks, in air, afloat
The white gulls circle lazily