ok.

The contents were all poems, and the majority of them at most filled
one page. Elisabeth turned over the leaves one after another; she
appeared to be reading the titles only. "When she was scolded by the
teacher." "When they lost their way in the woods." "An Easter story."
"On her writing to me for the first time." Thus ran most of the
titles.

Reinhard fixed his eyes on her with a searching look, and as she kept
turning over the leaves he saw that a gentle blush arose and gradually
mantled over the whole of her sweet face. He would fain have looked
into her eyes, but Elisabeth did not look up, and finally laid the
book down before him without a word.

"Don't give it back like that," he said.

She took a brown spray out of the tin case. "I will put your favourite
flower inside," she said, giving back the book into his hands.

At length came the last day of the vacation and the morning of his
departure. At her own request Elisabeth received permission from her
mother to accompany her friend to the stage-coach, which had its
station a few streets from their house.

When they passed out of the front door Reinhard gave her his arm, and
thus he walked in silence side by side with the slender maiden. The
nearer they came to their destination the more he felt as if he had
something he must say to her before he bade her a long farewell,
something on which all that was worthy and all that was sweet in his
future life depended, and yet he could not formulate the saving word.
In his anguish, he walked slower and slower.

"You'll be too late," she said; "it has already struck ten by St
Mary's clock."

But he did not quicken his pace for all that. At last he stammered
out:

"Elisabeth, you will not see me again for two whole years. Shall I be
as dear to you as ever when I come back?"

She nodded, and looked affectionately into his face.

"I stood up for you too," she said, after a pause.

"Me? And against whom had you to stand up for me?"

"Against my mother. We were talking about you a long time yesterday
evening after you left. She thought you were not so nice now as you
once were."

Reinhard held his peace for a moment: then he took her hand in his,
and looking gravely into her childish eyes, he said:

"I am still just as nice as I ever was; I would have you firmly
believe that. Do you believe it, Elisabeth?"

"Yes," she said.

He freed her hand and quickly walked with her through the last street.
The