"I know it," said Ilse, with warmth, "and the honest soul felt it also herself--she has been quieter and more cheerful than usual the whole day--and therefore I thank you. Yes, from my heart," she added, softly.
Praise from the lips of one beloved is not among the least of the pleasures that a man enjoys. The Professor looked beaming with happiness at his neighbor, who now in the darkness led her brother along at a quicker pace. He did not venture to break the silence; the pure hearts of both had been revealed, and, without speaking a word both felt the stream of warm sentiment that passed from one to the other.
"For him who passes from the midst of books into the paths of men," began the Professor, at last, "the pedantic habit of continued reading there acquired, often makes it easier to derive from a strange mode of life that which is of the highest benefit to his own. For, after all, there is in every life an element that commands reverence, however much it may often be veiled by wondrous accompaniments."
"We are commanded to love our neighbors," said Ilse, "and we endeavor to do so; but when one finds that this love is given so cheerfully and nobly, it is touching; and when one sees such feeling displayed, it becomes an example and elevates the heart. Come, Franz," she said, turning to her brother, "we are not far from home." But Franz stumbled, and, half asleep, declared that his legs ached.
"Up with you, little man," said the Professor, "let me carry you."
Ilse, distressed, tried to prevent it. "I cannot allow that; it is only sleep that makes him so lazy."
"Only till we reach the valley," said the Professor, raising the child on his shoulder. Franz clasped his arms round the Professor's neck, and clinging close to him, was soon fast asleep. When they came to a steep turn of the road, the Professor offered the arm which was free to his companion; but she refused, only supporting herself a little with his proffered hand. But her hand glided down and remained in that of her companion. Thus hand in hand they walked down the last part of the hill into the valley, neither of them speaking a word. When they arrived at the bottom, Ilse gently withdrew her hand, and he released it without a word or pressure; but these few minutes comprised for both a world of happy feelings.
"Come down, Franz," said Ilse, taking her sleeping brother from the arm of her friend. She bent down to the little one to encourage him, and they went on to join the party, who were waiting for them at the brook.
The carriage of the Crown-Inspector drew up. The parting greetings of his wife were very verbose, and her representations had mitigated his obstinacy, so that, cap in hand, he made up his mind to take, with tolerable decorum, a bite of the aforementioned sour apple. He approached the literary gentlemen, and asked them to grant him also the pleasure of a visit; and even the utterance of these friendly words had a softening influence on his honest soul. He now held out his hand to them, and receiving a hearty shake he began to think that the strangers were not in reality so bad as might be supposed. The Proprietor accompanied his guests to the carriage, Hans passed the bandbox in, and the two country-gentlemen, as they bade each other good night, watched the starting of the horses with the eyes of connoisseurs.