"Did you ask his name?"
"He would not give it. He was from your part of the country, and had only made inquiries through the town."
"Perhaps it was some one from Rossau," said Ilse, annoyed. "I hope he has not made father anxious by his talk."
Gabriel shook his head. "He meant something by it; he tried to find out everything about the house, and asked impudent questions that I would not answer. As he had a crafty look, I followed him to the nearest inn, and the waiter told me that he was the chamberlain of a Prince." Gabriel mentioned the name.
"That is our Prince!" cried Ilse; "what can make him take such interest in me?"
"The man wished to take some news home," replied her husband. "He was among the retinue on the hunting expedition last year; and it was kindly meant."
This answer quieted Gabriel, and Ilse, much pleased, said: "It is so nice when one's Prince takes such interest in his children who are in trouble far from home."
But there was some foundation withal for Gabriel's shaking his head; the inquiries did signify something.
Behind the buildings of a country farm-house, a young lady could be seen, tying up the wild flowers of the meadow in a large bouquet; a ball of blue yarn rolled in her lap whenever she added a fresh handful of flowers. A youth was running about in the deep grass before her, busily engaged in collecting flowers, placing them in order and arranging them according to color for the nosegay-maker. It was evident that the youth and young lady were brother and sister from the marked family likeness of both countenances, and the rich walking-dress left no doubt that they had not blossomed amidst the clover and camomile of the soil, even though the horses' heads and the galoon-trimmed hats of their attendants had not been visible through a gap between the barns.