Lenz read aloud:—"This is a plant of Edelweiss, which grew on one of the highest mountains in Switzerland, under the snow. My husband found it himself, and thought of me when he saw it, so he brought it home with him from his wanderings, and gave it to me on our wedding day. I wish it to be placed in my hand when I am laid in the earth. If, however, this is overlooked or forgotten, my son is to give it to his wife the day after their marriage; and, so long as she preserves it carefully, it will bring a blessing with it, though it has no magic properties. This plant is named Edelweiss.—MARIE LENZIN."
When Lenz had finished reading the paper he said:—"Does it not go to your heart to hear the dead thus speak? Don't be agitated, but be gay and happy. She liked every one to be gay and happy, and was always cheerful herself, though she had known so much sorrow."
Annele smiled, and laid the plant, wrapped in paper, beside the row of garnets.
The young people talked to each other so long, that at last a message came from the "Golden Lion," that they were to make haste, as a great many guests had arrived.
Franzl made a very awkward lady's maid. Lenz was obliged to go himself first to the "Lion," to send one of the maids there to Annele. He said, also, that he would take the opportunity to go to Faller's, and press him to come to the "Lion" to-day. He must positively come, and Annele must be kind to him, and forget if he had said anything disagreeable.
Annele said: "Yes, yes; only go along, and send me Margaret as quick as you can; or Ernestine, which would be still better."
At last Annele appeared in her parents' house. The mother rushed up to her, and hugged her, as if she had not seen her for a whole year, and Annele was as gentle and respectful, as if she had never said one cross word to her mother in all her life.
In the back parlour, however, when she and her mother were alone, Annele said that Lenz had given her, a bridal present, an old string of garnets, and a withered plant; and she really could not bear to show herself among all her friends without a gold chain. "He is a skinflint; a poor stingy bit of a clockmaker!" said Annele, indignantly.
The mother showed her good sense—and if that had been the only white lie she ever uttered she would have been snow white when she got to heaven—by saying: "Annele, he is certainly not covetous; he never asked a question about your marriage portion, never gave a hint on the subject; and he is far from stupid, believe me. He is, in fact, rather too shrewd. Last night a travelling jeweller from Pforzheim came here with a large, well filled box. I saw at once that Lenz had desired him to come. He will choose for you what takes his fancy most." The mother knew that Annele did not believe this invention of hers, and Annele knew that her mother did not consider her such a fool as to credit such a fable. They both affected, however, to believe that they were mutually truthful, and the result was very happy.
Lenz was absent for some little time. He was standing beside Ernestine on the dark steps of the cellar. Presently he returned, and, exactly as her mother had predicted, he brought Annele a gold chain from the pedlar, who was in the house. To allow her to choose for herself—to say, "My darling, what do you like best?"—never occurred to him, in spite of many hints; so he did not receive many thanks for his dilatory present.