Clara's talkative gaiety, however, seemed to have exhausted itself upon the homeward drive. She sat down beside her governess, and gazed thoughtfully from the leafy opening of the window in the little arbour abroad over the fields and meadows in the direction where in the unseen distance lay Castle Plagnitz. She was silent for a long while, and then, suddenly turning to Elise, she exclaimed,--
"You do not know how dearly I love you!"
"Oh, yes, I do, dear child; I know your warm little heart very well."
"But indeed you cannot dream how much I care for you. I did not know it myself. And how can I bear to have you leave us forever on Sunday?"
"I must go, Clara."
"I suppose you must, for Bertha does not love you; she does not know you. But, oh! Elise, why would you not let me tell Herr von Ernau that you are here, and that you are going away on Sunday?"
"Clara!"
"Yes, Elise; it grieves me to the very heart that you have no confidence in me. I am not such a child that I do not see and understand a great deal more than you think I do. You might confide in me."
"What could I confide in you, Clara?"
"You might have told me how much you cared for Herr von Ernau."