"Why, what a question!" exclaimed Mrs. Prohaska, "she is to wear it, and look pretty when she goes to parties on Sundays. Leonora, I suppose you will know what to do with it?" "Yes, mother, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for the beautiful present, and I promise you that I shall use it only in a noble and worthy manner," said Leonora, gravely. "My mother's bridal dress shall not be worn for frivolous purposes, but it shall serve me to attain the highest and purest objects."
"Oh, I know," whispered the mother, who was scarcely able to restrain her tears, "I know that you are an excellent girl, and a good daughter, and that you will never do any thing of which your old parents would have to be ashamed. You have always been my pride and joy, and never would I consent to part with you unless every one had now to make the greatest sacrifices for the king and the fatherland. But still it is very painful, and—"
"Wife," interposed the old sergeant, "no tears now! When we are alone we shall have time enough for weeping. As long as Leonora is here, let us gaze at and rejoice in her.—I have to give you a commission yet. Go to my general, old Blucher, and tell him he ought not to be angry with me—that he must not believe me a lazy coward because I do not go to the war. Tell him that my leg had to be amputated some time after the battle, and that he ought to excuse my absence when the roll is called."
"I will assuredly repeat your words to the general, father."
"Why!" asked Mrs. Prohaska, wonderingly, "is General Blucher now at
Berlin?"
"No," said her husband, carelessly, "he is at Breslau, whither all the volunteers are marching."
"But how is Leonora, then, to repeat your words to him?" asked his wife, in amazement.
"Father means that I shall tell General Blucher when he comes to Berlin?" said Leonora, quickly. "They say Blucher will come soon to expel the French from the capital, and father thinks I might then repeat those words to his old chieftain."
"Sister, sister, the stage-coach is coming," shouted Charles, rushing breathlessly into the room. "The postilion has already blown his bugle for the third time!"
"Well, then, my child, we must part," said the old sergeant, deeply moved, and clasping Leonora in his arms. "God bless you, my daughter! Your father's thoughts will always be with you!" He disengaged himself from her arms, and pushed her gently toward her mother. The two women remained a long time locked in each other's arms. Neither of them said a word, but their tears and their last looks were more eloquent than words.