“Must it be so, dearest papa?” said she, and the words almost choked her utterance.
Dalton snatched the letter from her fingers, and left the room. His voice was heard for an instant in conversation with the courier, and the moment after the door banged heavily, and all was still.
“It is done, Kate!” said she, throwing her arms around her sister's neck. “Let us now speak of the future; we have much to say, and short time to say it; and first let us help poor Hans downstairs.”
The dwarf, clutching up the wooden image, suffered himself to be aided with all the submissiveness of a patient child, and, with one at either side of him, slowly crept down the stairs to his own chamber. Disengaging himself by a gentle effort as he gained his door, Hans removed his cap from his head and made a low and deep obeisance to each of the girls separately, while he bade them a good-night.
“Leb wohl, Hanserl, Leb wohl!” said Kate, taking his hand affectionately. “Be ever the true friend that thou hast proved hitherto, and let me think of thee, when far away, with gratitude.”
“Why this? How so, Fraulein?” said Hans, anxiously; “why farewell? Why sayest thou 'Leb wohl,' when it is but 'good-night'?”
“Kate is about to leave us for a short space,” said Nelly, affecting to appear at ease and calm. “She is going to Italy, Hanserl.”
“Das schone Land! that lovely land!” muttered he, over and over. “Dahin, dahin,” cried he, pointing with his finger to the southward, “where the gold orange blooms. There would I wander too.”
“You'll not forget me, Hanserl?” said the young girl, kindly.
“Over the great Alps and away!” said Hans, still talking to himself; “over the high snow-peaks which cast their shadows on our cold land, but have terraces for the vine and olive-garden, yonder! Thou 'It leave us, then, Fraulein?”