Chapter 42 - Page 2

God's name, do not make a feeble, life-weary, disheartened being of me!"

"O Heavens!" exclaimed she, and burst into tears, "I cannot, and-- will not! You forget that I am only a poor girl, who am indebted for everything to your mother! My assent would displease her, and some time or other you would repent of it! I cannot!--I do not love you!" added she, in a tremulous voice.

Wilhelm stood speechless.

Eva suddenly rang the bell.

"What are you doing?" exclaimed he.

The servant entered.

"Bring in lights!" said she; "but first of all you must assist me with these flowers down into the garden. It will do them good to stand in the dew."

The servant did as she bade; she herself carried down one of the pots, and left the room.

"I do not love you!" repeated Wilhelm to himself, and returned to the company which he had left, and where he found all gayety and happiness.

The supper-table was spread in the garden; lights burned in the open air with a steady flame; it was a summer-evening beautiful as the October of the South; the reseda sent forth its fragrance; and when Sophie's health was drunk cannon were fired among the lofty fir-trees, the pines of the North.

The next morning those countenances were dejected which the evening before had been so gay. The carriage drew up to the door. The dear mother and sisters wept; they kissed Wilhelm, and extended their hands to Otto.

"Farewell!" said Louise; "do not forget us!" and her tearful glance rested upon Otto. Eva stood silent and pale.

"You will not forget me!" whispered Otto, as he seized Louise's hand. "I will forget your sister!"

The carriage rolled away; Wilhelm threw himself back into a corner. Otto looked back once more; they all stood at the door, and waved their white handkerchiefs.