"Is it true," she asked, "that you are from Lauterbach?"
"Yes."
"Why did you want to deny it, then? There's no shame in it, I'm sure."
"I never denied it.
"Well, isn't it a shame? how people tell stories! They all said that the reason you were by yourself so much, running about like a poor, frightened little chick, was that you were afraid they'd tease you about being from Lauterbach. Why, if you were from Tripstrill you'd be----"
"What would I be?"
He looked at her so penetratingly that she held her hands over his eyes; but he kissed her and strained her to his heart. "Dearest! dearest!" he cried; "it shall, it must, all be well."
"Don't do so," said Hedwig, but without trying to extricate herself: so he kissed her again. "Now talk to me, and tell me something. What have you been doing? You don't talk a word."
The teacher pressed her hand to his lips, as if to say that that was the only language he was capable of uttering. So Hedwig seemed to understand him, for she said, "No: you must talk to me; I love to hear you talk so much; and my grandmother always says you have such beautiful words,--my grandmother thinks so much of you."
Something like moisture must have been glistening in the teacher's eyes; for she went on:--"Never mind: there's nothing lost yet; and Constantine had better look out, or he'll find out in some way he don't like that I'm my own mistress."