"Oh, no!" she cried, forgetting her reserve and with enthusiasm,—"I love my friends with my whole heart, and am most happily conscious that I am loved in return!"
"Ah, then you did not quite misunderstand me! Well,—and your friends,—there must be a large circle to whom you open your heart?"
"No," she cried, laughing,—"their tale is soon told! My parents, my uncle, and this little fellow here," and she took Ernst by the hand as he came running to her, "who grows larger and makes more demands upon me every year. But now we must go, my darling," she said to the child, "or mamma will be anxious."
She bowed courteously to Herr von Walde,—it seemed to her that the shade upon his brow had disappeared. He raised his hat to her and shook hands with Ernst,—then he walked slowly towards the horse that was pawing impatiently, untied it, and led it away by the bridle.
"Do you know, Elsie," said Ernst, as they were ascending the mountain, "whom Herr von Walde looks like?"
"Whom?"
"The brave knight of St. George, just when he has killed the dragon."
"Aha!" she laughed. "But you have never seen any picture of the brave knight."
"I know that. Still I think he looks like him."
And she too had thought of the resemblance when she had seen him controlling his unruly steed. At this moment she remembered the pang she had suffered at the thought of a probable accident, and her unspeakable delight at seeing him return from the thicket unharmed. She stood still, and with a smile of wonder laid her hand upon her throbbing heart.