"Before God and His angels I love her; before all mankind I would gladly declare it. Gretchen shall never come to harm at these hands. I swear it."
"I believe you." The old woman's form relaxed its tenseness.
"Thanks, grandmother," said Gretchen. "Now, read what my hand says."
The old woman took the hand. She loved Gretchen.
"I read that you are gentle and brave and cheerful, that you have a loyal heart and a pure mind. I read that you are in love and that some day you will be happy." A smile went over her face, a kind of winter sunset.
"You are not looking at my hand at all, grandmother," said Gretchen in reproach.
"I do not need, my child. Your life is written in your face." The grandmother spoke again to the vintner. "So you will take her away from me?"
"Will it be necessary?" he returned quietly. "Have you any objection to my becoming your foster grandchild, such as Gretchen is?"
The old woman made no answer. She closed her eyes and did not open them. Gretchen motioned that this was a sign that the interview was ended. But as he rose to his feet there was a sound outside. A carriage had stopped. Some one opened the door and began to climb the stairs. The noise ceased only when the visitor reached the top landing. Then all became still again.
"There is something strange going on up there," said Gretchen in a whisper.