"The spring has set me up again--this winter was very hard to bear--but your parents are so good to me, Clement.--Good morning, father dear;" she said, turning to him--"It was so early when we went out to the field, that I could not come up to shake hands then"--and she held out hers to him.
"Go downstairs now, dear child, and take Clement with you. You can shew him your garden--you have a little while to yourselves yet before dinner; and you, Clement, think over what I have been saying to you."--And then the young people went away.
"What is the matter with your father?" said the young girl, when they had got downstairs--"his tone sounded rather strange, and so does yours. Have you had any angry words together?"
"I found him very much excited; his blood appears to be in a disordered state. Has he been complaining again of late?"
"Not to me. He sometimes appeared to be ill at ease, and would not speak for hours together, so as often to surprise our mother. Was he severe on you just now?"
"We had a discussion upon very serious subjects. He questioned me, and I could not conceal my convictions."
Marlene grew pensive, and her countenance only brightened when they got into the fresh air.
"Is it not pleasant here?" She asked, stretching out both hands.
"Indeed I hardly know the place again," he said; "what have you done to this neglected little spot? As far back as I can remember, there never was anything here but a few fruit-trees, and the hollyhocks and asters, and now it is all over roses."
"Yes," she said; "your mother never used to care much about the garden, and now she likes it too. The bailiffs son learned gardening in the town, and he made me a present of some rose-trees, and planted them for me--by degrees I got the others, and now I am quite rich. The finest are not in flower yet."