"And now one question. You were very pale when you opened the door for me, and had been crying. Of course this affair was very painful to you. I can understand that, but—but were you the least bit anxious—on my account?"
He received no answer. There was only a low, stifled sob.
"Were you anxious about me? Only a little 'yes;' you cannot know, Marietta, how happy it will make me."
He bent over the maiden whose head had sunk so low, but he could not see the gleam of happiness which lighted up her face as she said softly: "I have been so anxious that life has hardly been endurable the past two days."
Willibald gave a laugh of exultation, and tried to draw her into his arms; she gave him one long look, and then released herself.
"No, no, not now. Go—I beg you."
He stepped back at once.
"You are right, Marietta. Not now; but when I am free, I shall come to you and beg for another 'yes.' Good-bye. God bless you!"
He was gone in an instant, before Marietta could collect her thoughts; and now the voice of her old kinswoman, who had entered the room a moment before, unperceived by its occupants, recalled her to herself.
"My child, what is this, what does it mean? Have you both forgotten—"