"I will be glad," murmured she to herself, as, sitting upon the moss-clad roots in the shade of a wide-spreading oak, she twined the large flowered bells into a wreath for her head, while she twisted the smaller ones into a garland, and thus she adorned herself like a wood nymph. The green blooming girdle set off her slender form to advantage.
And she began to sing a cheerful song, as though she would take her own joyful mood by surprise.
Suddenly there arose a rustling in the bushes, and a man in shooting dress stood before her. She sprang up in alarm, then stood still in confusion, and cast her eyes to the ground.
"I regret that I should disturb you," said the stranger, "but I felt constrained to satisfy myself as to whence came such lovely singing."
"The wood belongs to all the world," replied she, "and above all to sportsmen."
"Like yourself, my Fräulein, I am merely a visitor here, I certainly have a right to disturb the stags and hinds, which at such a season of the year have no claims to be spared, but on no account may I startle other living creatures out of lovely hiding places."
Eva now raised her eyes, and regarded the stranger with a cursory glance; his figure was tall and slight, his features seemed to be bronzed by a southern sun, his eyes were half closed, listlessness lay in their glance, but a gentle, refined smile played upon his lips.
"I did not expect to find so charming a flower-fairy in this extensive forest, where the hart-royals dwell. You are as completely buried beneath leaf and flowers, as a Chinese woman of the wood, because if these little bells could ring, they would yield a far sweeter peal than that which the women of the Celestial Empire tinkle before their ancestors' images."
"Have you heard those bells ring?" asked Eva, with that boldness, which is often merely an indication of great embarrassment.
"Certainly, my beautiful fairy! I have heard the bells of human folly in every zone; they have much the same sound in all parts; one flies from them, and finds them again everywhere; however, why should one destroy this charming woodland quiet with such thoughts? But yet. Robbers everywhere! Do not be alarmed my lovely child! I am not one of them, I only mean the hawks which hover yonder about the summits! The nightingales have already winged their southern flight, it is a pity! Their songs would sound so exquisitely here in the valley as an accompaniment to a living picture, to this fleur animée, the lovely campanula!"