After a sleepless night, in which the ardent desires of her heart were driven to flight by the implacable calculation of her understanding, and after mature consideration, she was obliged to acknowledge a defeat, which, happily, she had suffered in total secrecy. In the morning she again found a bouquet of flowers and a note:
"Ah, these runes, dear, pray decypher,
Put an end to my love's pain;
For 'tis not Iduna I love,
No, I love but you alone!"
This was the height of impudence. The moustachioed teacher cast his mask aside. In her own establishment had sprung up the ill-weeds of poetry and bouquets.
Should she give him notice?
Under existing circumstances she resolved not at once to speak about these love poems, so opposed to all rule, but to hold farther mental debates with herself.
Iduna's next exercise teemed with red corrections. Lori rewarded Dr. Sperner for them with a grateful smile.
CHAPTER IV.
[IN THE FOREST OF JUDITENKIRCHEN.]
Early in the morning the carriage stopped before the village inn. Blanden, Kuhl, and two other gentlemen sprang oat; the pistol cases were left in the carriage.
"We have come too early; there is still half an hour's time," said Kuhl, "a morsel to eat cannot hurt us."