"Pardon me; but if I have rightly understood the ex-bailiff, he is going to leave the decision to his daughter."
The farmer compressed his lips craftily, then said:
"Yes, yes; you are right. And mind you, I shall not say a word to her, and you shall find that she will give you the same answer that I gave."
"May I ask why?" inquired the mountain prince.
"You may ask," answered the peasant, going to the door and calling to Thoma to bring wine and something to eat. It seemed as if Thoma had already prepared this, for she came immediately, the young men following her movements with admiring eyes. She poured the wine, they touched their glasses, and Anton had begun to repeat his request, when she interrupted him:
"Say no more!"
Anton turned pale, and Thoma blushed; their eyes met, and Thoma's eyelids dropped. In a moment, however, she looked up frankly, and continued:
"I have heard all that has been said."
"Bravo! that's splendid!" cried Anton; "pardon me, but I imagine there are few who would so honestly confess that they had been listening."
"I thank you for your praise, but it is nothing--that is, I mean being honest deserves no praise."