There was something wondrously melodious in the voice, but not the slightest trace of the glad emotion which he himself had experienced which he himself had experienced on seeing his darling. His heart contracted; he would fain have said: "You were wont to give me a different reception;" but he blushed to face the young beauty as a beggar, and letting, go her hands, he only said--
"You did not expect to find me here?"
"How could I?" was her reply.
"To be sure!" thought Bertram. "How could she? What a silly question of mine!"
He knew not what next to say, and, in some embarrassment, he stood silent. The crow above had been silent during the last half-minute or so, and now commenced to croak, abominably. Both had involuntarily gazed up; now they were, walking silently side by side along the path.
III.
The evening was closing in around them. Through the thick undergrowth of wood which bordered the path on both sides but little light could penetrate; overhead the leafy crowns of the beeches interlaced and formed an almost continuous roof. At a certain abrupt declivity a few rough steps had been placed.
"Will you take my arm. Uncle Bertram?" said Erna. It was the first word spoken between them since, several minutes ago, minutes which had weighed like lead upon Bertram, they had left the bench under the beech tree.
"I was just going to put the same question to you," he replied.
"Thanks," said Erna. "I know every step here; but you--and then, you have been ill."