For a moment the whole group gazed in silence, but Rahel's voice soon broke forth, chattering to Max as he drew her arm through his and led her towards the orchard. "Look! one can almost see the color of the roses!" she cried. "Wait a minute, and I will pluck this one,—it is quite overblown: how wet it is! Ah, I have run that horrid thorn in my finger! Thanks. It was Alide who had them planted on either side of the gate, where——" And so the girlish voice died away in the distance, and the two figures were lost among the shadows and shrubbery.
"Let us go towards the vineyard," suggested Madame Duroc; "Rahel has taken the other path, but Dr. Steck should see the pretty outlook from the opposite side of the trellises. Otto, give me your arm, so that I may not step upon the grass; the dew is almost like rain. Dr. Steck, if you follow us you will see the prospect to advantage."
"Go," said the pastor. "I will wait here till you come back. I have not much relish for these damp walks." And Steck, with Alide upon his arm, followed Madame Duroc and her son through the moonlit lanes. He looked down at the girl's face beside him, with her hair gleaming like pale gold, and the liquid lustre in her eyes which only the moon can shed. About her form everything was white and shadowy as her thin cloak was lifted and fluttered around her by the cool air. He felt the elastic spring of her gait timed perfectly with his own footsteps, the scarcely perceptible pressure of her arm upon his own, the nearness of the warm, bright head, and a delicious joy possessed him. But Alide had not recovered from the disturbing sense of fear with which this strange young man inspired her, and she was resolved not to allow the sweet influences of the scene and hour to work upon herself or her companion. Almost as volubly as Rahel, and as little subdued by the wonderful charm of the night, she prattled artlessly about all that concerned her daily life. In the perfect stillness, her mother, a few steps in advance, could have heard every word she uttered.
"Of course you will know us all," she said, "for whenever a stranger stops with us he is sure to return often and become familiar with our whole family circle. There are so many of us, uncles, aunts, and cousins included, that we make quite a little world of our own."
"And among them all," said Steck, in a low, earnest tone, "is there not one who attracts you particularly?"
"Yes, indeed," answered Alide, "and many more than one. If you could only know my aunt Christiane! She is fully sixty years old, and beautiful as an angel. She had a strange, tragic story connected with her youth; but the longer she lives the more peaceful life becomes to her, she says. And, indeed, the mutual devotion between herself and her two sons seems enough to compensate for many, many trials of the past."
"And they:—your cousins," interposed Steck, "are they also such romantic characters?"
"Dr. Steck, you must not laugh at my enthusiasm," said she, seriously: "my cousins are—what such a mother must make them." And Steck fancied it was confusion that made her draw her cloak closer about her and quicken her steps.
"Forgive me," he said; "I know I have no claim upon your friendship, your regard, but when I hear you talk of this happily-united circle I cannot overcome a painful regret for all I have lost in only now becoming acquainted with so much that is good. I have been a great deal alone,—that is to say, in thought and feeling; and I might almost say, if it were not presuming upon your kindness, that it is a certain selfish jealousy which I feel in realizing this confiding interchange of sympathies."
"In that case," responded Alide, with great composure, "I can promise you that all our family will extend their friendship and respect to whoever deserves and needs it."