Christian hurried on; the rustling of leaves soon carried the words away. She did not feel inclined to go in, and crossing the bridge began to climb the hill. There was a gentle breeze, drifting the clouds across the sun; lizards darted out over the walls, looked at her, and whisked away.
The sunshine, dappling through the tops of trees, gashed down on a torrent. The earth smelt sweet, the vineyards round the white farms glistened; everything seemed to leap and dance with sap and life; it was a moment of Spring in midsummer. Christian walked on, wondering at her own happiness.
'Am I heartless?' she thought. 'I am going to leave him—I am going into life; I shall have to fight now, there'll be no looking back.'
The path broke away and wound down to the level of the torrent; on the other side it rose again, and was lost among trees. The woods were dank; she hastened home.
In her room she began to pack, sorting and tearing up old letters. 'Only one thing matters,' she thought; 'singleness of heart; to see your way, and keep to it with all your might.'
She looked up and saw Barbi standing before her with towels in her hands, and a scared face.
“Are you going a journey, gnadiges Fraulein?”
“I am going away to be married, Barbi,” said Christian at last; “don't speak of it to any one, please.”
Barbi leant a little forward with the towels clasped to the blue cotton bosom of her dress.
“No, no! I will not speak. But, dear Fraulein, that is a big matter; have you well thought?”