reluctantly that the unfortunate cretin had come into her
mind, and that for an instant she had felt afraid he might suddenly
jump up from the roadside.

"I do not know," she said, "why he should have made such a horrible
impression on me, and feel ashamed to have such silly nerves, but I
would not meet him again for anything in the world."

I soothed and comforted her, saying that nothing could happen to her
while I was by. She still kept looking uneasily at the roadside, but
presently our conversation dispersed the unpleasant impression.

It was dusk when we arrived at the Cascades, but the evening was
exceptionally warm. On the square before Straubinger's a great many
people were listening to some strolling harpists. I do not know why
this solitary mountain pass should have reminded me so strongly of
Italy. It recalled to my memory the evenings on the Pincio, when I
thought how happy I could be had I Aniela at my side. I now felt her
arm resting upon mine, and still more felt her soul close to my own.
And thus, full of sweet peacefulness, we returned home.

10 August.

I thought to-day much about what Aniela had said to me on the way to
the Schreckbruecke. I was particularly struck by the exclamation which
burst from her lips: "You do not know how unhappy I am!" There was
such deep sorrow, such a wail in these words, and an involuntary
confession that she does not love her husband, cannot love him; and
also that her heart, in spite of all her efforts, belongs to me. If so
she has been as unhappy as I. I say "has been," because at present she
is not. Now she can say to herself: "I can remain true and keep my
faith; and for the rest, I trust to God."

11 August.

It came into my mind that I had no right to expect Aniela to sacrifice
everything for me. It is not true that one sacrifices everything to
love. If, for instance, I had an encounter with Kromitzki and she
adjured me in the name of our love to ask his pardon on my bended
knees, I would not do it. It is a fantastic, senseless supposition,
yet at the very thought the blood mounts to my head. No, Aniela dear,
you are right; there are things we may not sacrifice even to love.

12 August.

We went in the morning on the Windischgraetzhoehe. It is about three
quarters of an hour on foot, but I got a horse for Aniela, which I led
by the bridle. Walking at her side, I rested my hand on the horse's
neck and at the same time touched her dress. Mounting o