est. Magde,
who possessed a quick eye, soon discovered that Nanna was the cause of
his visits; but she also perceived that Gottlieb was no dissembler.
Magde did not look further than this, for she did not suppose Nanna
would ever love one who did not return her affection. Unrequited love
she did not believe in, and she thought that Nanna was of her opinion in
this respect.

And in truth thus it appeared, for neither Nanna nor Gottlieb
experienced the slightest degree of restraint when in each other's
society. The change that had taken place in Nanna's appearance was
marvellous; the blossoms of buoyant and happy girlhood had usurped the
place formerly occupied by lilies on her cheeks, and our young hero had
more than once laughingly said:

"It is fortunate, Miss Nanna, that we made our agreement when we first
met, for if we had not I do not know what would have happened. You
become lovelier every day, Nanna."

Yet in spite of these words Gottlieb would blush with displeasure when
their meetings at the spring were disturbed by a third person.

The youthful teacher and pupil continued their meetings at the little
fountain, and Gottlieb at this spot gave Nanna her first instructions
upon the guitar. To his great pleasure she learned quickly, and soon she
was able to sing her beautiful songs to her own accompaniment on his
favorite instrument.

Words are inadequate to describe Gottlieb's pride and elation when this
was accomplished, and he was none the less rejoiced when he discovered
how readily Nanna comprehended him when he read to her the writings of
his favorite bards.

On her part Nanna replied to her kind teacher, by confiding to him all
of her little plans, among the first of which she mentioned the
school-room, the cat and the singing bird which he was to have, and
Gottlieb gave her his advice concerning the arrangement of the benches
in the school-room; the position which the black-board should occupy,
and what little presents she should make her pupils as rewards of merit.
He concluded by promising to send her every year a letter of advice;
possibly he might come himself, occasionally, who knew?

"I am sure of that," said Nanna, one afternoon in reply to Gottlieb, as
he thus expressed himself, "for when you are married you will be obliged
to visit Almvik to show your rich wife to your uncle and aunt."

"Perhaps," replied Gottlieb, with a laugh, "that journey will not be
necessary, for if my aunt could on