"Ich weiss; es ist wahr," she replied softly, "aber wenn der Kummer so frisch ist, dann ist es unmöglich in dem Gedanken Trost zu finden."
"I should have said nothing," said Hope in contrition, seating herself upon the log pile again.
"Nein, my dear, dear friend! I have now dis misery, but I belief you. Somedimes your vords vill help—vat you calls 'em—vill soothe, und I vill be better."
"Then it's all right," said Hope, jumping from the logs and giving her hand to Louisa to assist her down. "Let's walk a little."
They went slowly up the road toward the school-house, and had not proceeded far when they met Livingston driving toward them in an open buggy.
Hope waved her hand to him and hastened forward, while Louisa smiled upon him the faintest of dimpled greetings, then drew back to the side of the road while the girl of the prairies stepped up to the side of his buggy.
"You haven't kept your word very well," she said. "We have seen you only twice, and Louisa has wondered many times what has been keeping you. Isn't that so, Louisa?" she nodded at the girl. "I am glad you have come this morning, because I want to ask you a favor."
"I am at your service," he replied.
"You know Louisa hasn't learned to ride yet, and Harris' have no other way of conveyance, so I wanted to ask you to take her in your buggy—to see Fritz's grave." The last few words were added below her breath.
"I came this morning to ask you if she did not wish to see it," he replied. "It might be good for her."