ine, what business had
that man of the fountain with you?" Her friend smiled archly and
replied, "On your birthday, the day after to-morrow, I will tell you,
my sweet girl;" and she would say no more. She only pressed Bertalda
to come and dine with them on that day, and bring her foster parents;
after which they separated.
"Kuehleborn?" said Huldbrand to his wife with a suppressed shudder, as
they walked home through the dark streets. "Yes, it was he," replied
Undine "and he tried to put all sorts of nonsense into my head.
However, without intending it he delighted me by one piece of news. If
you wish to hear it, now, my kind lord, you have but to say so, and I
will tell you every word. But if you like to give your Undine a _very_
great delight, you will wait two days, and then have your share in the
surprise."
The Knight readily granted her what she had asked so meekly and
gracefully; and as she dropped asleep she murmured, "How it will
delight her! how little she expects such a message from the mysterious
man--dear, dear Bertalda!"
XI.--BERTALDA'S BIRTHDAY
The guests were now assembled at table; Bertalda sat at the top,
adorned with flowers like the goddess of spring, and flashing with
jewels, the gifts of many friends and relations. Undine and Huldbrand
were on either side of her. When the sumptuous meal was ended, and the
dessert served, the doors were opened--according to the good old
German custom--to let the common people look in and have their share
in the gaiety of the rich. The attendants offered wine and cake to the
assembled crowd. Huldbrand and Bertalda were eagerly watching for the
promised disclosure, and both kept their eyes fixed upon Undine. But
she was still silent; her cheeks dimpled occasionally with a bright,
conscious smile. Those that knew what she was about to do, could
perceive that her interesting secret was ready to burst from her lips,
but that she was playfully determined to keep it in, as children
sometimes will save their daintiest morsels for the last. Her silent
glee communicated itself to the other two, who watched impatiently for
the happy news that was about to gladden their hearts. Some of the
company now asked Undine for a song. She seemed to be prepared with
one, and sent for her lute, to which she sang as follows:--
The sun gilds the wave,
The flowers are sweet,
And the ocean doth lave
The grass at our feet!
What lies on the earth
So blooming and gay?
Do
|