Meanwhile, she seemed to have forgotten that she had sent Esztike out to watch for her father; and when, with a beating heart, I hurried to the gate, I found my little charmer still there.
"For whom are you waiting so long?" I asked, by way of conversation.
"For my dear father," she replied, twisting the little tassel of her apron.
"Poor little Esztike! how much you have to suffer from that old Mrs. Debora!"
She did not speak, but the large tears filled her eyes.
It was then I first remarked how beautiful black eyes look when they weep: tears do not become blue eyes, I like them best when they smile.
"Ah, Esztike! it should not be thus if—but I won't let you be annoyed if I can help it, that I won't."
She did not answer. I confess I should not have liked if she had been able to answer every word I said.
"Nobody loves me," I continued, "in the wide world: my life is very lonely and sad; but surely Heaven will smile upon us yet."
My little dove looked as if she wished to go, yet fain would stay; but as I behaved discreetly, she remained. A cold wind began to blow, and she had only a slight silk handkerchief round her neck.