urse which the affair had all along followed was not at
all precipitated by the betrothal. Things were allowed to go on both
sides just as they were; they were happy in being together, and they
could enjoy to the end the fair season of the year as the spring of
their future more serious life.

"The absent youth had meanwhile grown up into everything which was most
admirable. He had obtained a well-deserved rank in his profession, and
came home on leave to visit his family. Toward his fair neighbor he
found himself again in a natural but singular position. For some time
past she had been nourishing in herself such affectionate family
feelings as suited her position as a bride; she was in harmony with
everything about her; she believed that she was happy, and in a certain
sense she was so. Now first for a long time something again stood in her
way. It was not to be hated--she had become incapable of hatred. Indeed
the childish hatred, which had in fact been nothing more than an obscure
recognition of inward worth, expressed itself now in a happy
astonishment, in pleasure at meeting, in ready acknowledgments, in a
half willing, half unwilling, and yet irresistible attraction; and all
this was mutual. Their long separation gave occasion for longer
conversations; even their old childish foolishness served, now that they
had grown wiser, to amuse them as they looked back; and they felt as if
at least they were bound to make good their petulant hatred by
friendliness and attention to each other--as if their first violent
injustice to each other ought not to be left without open
acknowledgment.

"On his side it all remained in a sensible, desirable moderation. His
position, his circumstances, his efforts, his ambition, found him so
abundant an occupation, that the friendliness of this pretty bride he
received as a very thank-worthy present; but without, therefore, even so
much as thinking of her in connection with himself, or entertaining the
slightest jealousy of the bridegroom, with whom he stood on the best
possible terms.

"With her, however, it was altogether different. She seemed to herself
as if she had awakened out of a dream. Her fightings with her young
neighbor had been the beginnings of an affection; and this violent
antagonism was no more than an equally violent innate passion for him,
first showing under the form of opposition. She could remember nothing
else than that she had always loved him. She laughed over