They came within the border of the wood which belonged to Landolin. On the side where the sun is most searching and powerful, the bark of the mighty pine-trees was torn open, and the resin was dropping into the tubs which were set for it.
"It's a pity for the beautiful trees," said Anton; "your father mustn't tap such trees as these hereafter; they are good for lumber. He must leave them to me."
Thoma begged him to be very careful how he dealt with her father, for he would not bear opposition.
"I don't know," she added, "it seems to me father is very----very irritable to-day. I don't know why."
"But I know. He is vexed because he has to give you up. You'll see, I shall be so too in a thousand weeks. But a man must be a grandfather before----"
"Oh you!" interrupted Thoma, coloring.
They kept on deeper into the forest, away from the path, and sat down on the soft, yielding moss at the foot of a far-branching pine.
"We have had enough kissing, let me rest a little now, I'm tired," said Thoma, as she leaned against the tree. She smiled when Anton hastily made his coat into a pillow for her head.
Lilies of the valley blossomed at their feet. Anton plucked one, and with it stroked Thoma's cheek and forehead, gently singing the while all manner of nursery songs, and magic charms.
I wish thee a night of repose,