Before us lies the home. Its four walls are free now to the air and light, and have put on a fresh bright garment; but its front is far more stately than it used to be. New windows are seen on every side. Ferber has had four rooms added to it; for when the forester retires to private life, he and Sabina are to live there also. In the family dwelling-room,—from whose two high windows can now be seen the same view formerly seen only from Elizabeth's room above,—Herr von Walde has had the trees thinned so that her parents might always have the home of their darling before their eyes,—stands the young Frau von Walde. She has been kept in the house for several weeks, and her first expedition has been to carry her first-born to her parents' home. There he lies in her arms. Miss Mertens, or rather the happily married Frau Reinhard, has just removed the veil from the little thing. The minute, plump, red face shows, in the eyes of the mother, an unmistakable resemblance to Herr von Walde. Ernst is laughing loudly at the vague movements of the fat little fists, which are stretching out in all directions. But the forester stands with his own powerful hands behind him, and an expression of great anxiety, as if he feared that if he moved he might do the frail atom an injury. He is no less delighted with his grand-nephew than are Elizabeth's parents with their grandchild. He has outlived his distress concerning Bertha, and basks in Elizabeth's happiness, which was a great surprise to him at first, and which he maintained he was obliged to become accustomed to anew every morning. Not, indeed, that he thought such good fortune one whit too great for his darling,—he would have thought the richest of earthly crowns well placed upon Elizabeth's head; but it was so strange to him to see his sunny Gold Elsie by the side of her grave, thoughtful husband.
Elizabeth is happy in the fullest sense of the word. Her husband adores her, and his words have proved true,—the expression of stern melancholy has faded forever from his brow.
Just now the young wife is looking tenderly at the little creature in her arms, and then down into the valley, whence Herr von Walde will soon appear to conduct her to her home. Her glance grows sad for a moment, and tears fill her eyes, as they rest upon a lofty gilded cross, glimmering among the trees upon the shore of the lake,—beneath those rustling boughs Helene has slept for a year. She died in Elizabeth's arms, praying God to bless the dear sister who had so helped her to bear her burden of woe until her spirit could soar away from its frail mortal tenement.
Hollfeld has sold Odenberg, and no one knows in what corner of the earth he hides his discontent at the overthrow of all his plots.
THE END.
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THE WHITE ROSE.