vy punishment.

5 July.

After yesterday's commotion a calm has set in. The clouds have
discharged their electricity, and the storm is over. I feel exhausted
morally and physically. Aniela is better. This morning we met alone on
the veranda. I put her on a rocking-chair, wrapped a shawl around her
shoulders, as the morning was rather chilly, and said:--

"Aniela dear, I beg your pardon from my whole heart for what I said
yesterday. Forgive and forget if you can, though I shall never forgive
myself."

She put out her hand at once, and I clung to it with my lips. I could
have groaned aloud; there is such a gulf between my love and my
misery. Aniela seemed to feel it too, for she did not withdraw her
hand at once. She too tried to control her emotion, and the feeling
which urged her towards me. Her neck and breast heaved as if she were
strangling the sobs that rose to her throat. She feels that I love her
beyond everything; that a love like mine is not to be met with every
day; and that it might have been a treasure of happiness to last our
whole life. Presently she grew more composed and her face became
serene. There was nothing but resignation there, and angelic goodness.

"There is peace between us, is there not?" she asked.

"Yes," I replied.

"And forever?"

"How can I tell, dearest? You know best how things stand with me."

Her eyes again grew misty, and again she recovered herself.

"All will be well," she said, "you are so good."

"I, good?" I exclaimed with real indignation; "do you not know that if
you had not fallen ill yesterday I should--"

I did not finish. I suddenly remembered that it would be mean and
cowardly to use such a weapon against her. I felt all the more ashamed
of my rashness as I saw the troubled eyes looking anxiously into mine.

"What did you want to say?"

"I was going to say words unworthy of myself; besides, they have no
meaning now."

"Leon! I must know what you meant, else I shall have no peace."

Suddenly a breath of wind blew a lock of her hair into her eyes. I
rose, and with the light, tender touch of a mother, put it back into
its place.

"Dear Aniela, do not force me to tell what I ought to forget. If it be
a question of your peace of mind I pledge you my word that you need
not have any fear for the future."

"You promise this?" she asked, still looking intently at me.

"Yes, most solemnly and emphatically; will that satisfy you, and drive
out any foolish n