their load. Everywhere industrious crowds were in the
fields. The stalks fell beneath the reapers. Men bound the sheaves.
Wagons stood here and there. The sheaves were raised into picturesque
stacks. The sun beamed down hot, and the sweltering weather wrote on
the foreheads of the men, "Adam, in the sweat of thy brow thou shalt
eat thy bread."

In the proprietor's house all was still, the old cook sat beneath the
lindens, and with spectacles on her nose tried to mend a stocking which
she held in her hand. She arose and smiled on Richard's approach.

"They are all in the fields. We have much work, Herr Frank. The grain
is ripe, and we have already gathered fifty wagon-loads. I am glad to
see you looking so much better. The family will also be glad. They
think a great deal of you--particularly Herr Siegwart."

"Give them many kind greetings from me. I will come back in the
evening."

"Off so soon? Will you not say good-day to Miss Angela? She is in the
garden. Shall I call her?"

"No," said he after a moment's reflection; "I will go into the garden
myself."

After unlatching the gate, he would have turned back, for he became
nervous and embarrassed.

Angela sat in the arbor; her embroidery-frame leaned against the table,
and she was busily working. As she heard the creaking of footsteps on
the walk, she looked up and blushed. Frank raised his hat, and when the
young woman stood up before him in beauty and loveliness, his
nervousness increased, and he would gladly have escaped; but his spirit
was in the fetters of a strange power, and necessity supplied him with
a few appropriate remarks.

"I heard that the family were absent; but I did not wish to go away
without saluting you. Miss Angela."

She observed the bashful manner of the young man, and said kindly, "I
am glad to see you again, Herr Frank," and invited him to sit down. He
looked about for a seat; but as there was none, he had to sit on the
same bench with her.

"Do you remain long at Frankenhoehe?"

"Only to-day and to-morrow. Work requires dispatch, and old custom has
so bound me to my occupation that the knowledge of work to be done
makes me feel uneasy."

"Do you work every day regularly in the counting-room?"

"I am punctual to the hours, for the work demands regularity and order.
There are every day some hours for recreation."

"And what is the most pleasant recreation for you?"

"Music and painting. I like them the best. But of late," he