In Laura's secret record, also, the events of this day were very shortly disposed of. Even an observation she had begun on the happiness of the lonely dwellers in the wood remained unfinished. How was it, Laura?--you, who write down everything; who, when an insect or a sparrow hops in at the window, burst forth into verse! Here was an event influencing your whole life--danger, unconsciousness in the arms of a stranger, who, in spite of his learned aspect, is a handsome youth! This would be the time to depict and indulge in fancy dreams. Capricious girl, why does this adventure lie like a dead stone in the fantastic landscape that surrounds thee? Is it with thee as with the traveler, who, weary of the Alpine scenery, looks below him and wonders that this marvelous nature so little impresses him, till gradually, but perhaps not for years, the scenes pursue him, waking or dreaming, and draw him anew to the mountains? Or has the nearness of the wicked animal who occasioned the outrage impeded the flight of your soaring wings? There he lies before your threshold, red and ragged, licking his lips.
CHAPTER XII.
THE DEPARTURE FROM THE ESTATE.
Autumn had come. The trees about the house had assumed their colored dress of decay. White webs hung over the stubble, and the dew drops lay upon them till the wind tore the woven fabrics away and bore them from field and valley into the blue distance. A happy pair went hand in hand about the place. This year the fall of the leaf did not affect the Professor, for a new spring had begun in his life; and his happiness was written in his countenance in characters which might be read by the most unlearned.
Ilse was betrothed. Modestly she bore the invisible crown which, according to the opinion of the household and neighborhood, now encircled her head. There were still hours in which she could scarcely believe in her happiness. When she rose early from her bed, and heard the trailing of the plough, or when she stood in the dairy amidst the clattering of the milk pails, her future appeared like a dream. But in the evening, when she was sitting near her beloved one, listening to his words and conversing on subjects serious and trifling, she would lay her hand gently on his arm in order to assure herself that he belonged to her, and that she was thenceforth to enter into the life in which his spirit moved.
The marriage was to take place before the winter, and before the lectures began at the University. For the Professor had petitioned against a long engagement and the father had yielded.
"I would gladly have kept Ilse with me over the winter. Clara must assume a portion of her duties, and the guidance of her sister would have been a great help to her. But it is better for you that it should be otherwise. You, my son, have sought the hand of my daughter after a short acquaintance, and the sooner Ilse accustoms herself to the life of the city, the better it will be for you both; and I think it would be easier for her in the winter."
It was a time of happy excitement, and the necessity of providing for the new household brought down the feelings of the betrothed from their state of exaltation to earthly things.
The Professor made a journey to the University. He went first to his friend.
"Wish me joy," he exclaimed; "have confidence in her and me."