They were verses turning on the expression he had made use of the day before,--"loving unspeakably," and justifying himself for using it by pointing out that for long after he had seen and loved her he knew not how to call her, where she dwelt, nor who she was, and so he might literally be said to have loved her "unspeakably."
"That is how he proves himself in the right," she murmured with blissful looks, pressing the paper to her lips. "And he is right, indeed, he does love me 'unspeakably.' Ah, I am a very happy woman!"
And she put the lilies of the valley in her dress, the verses in her pocket, took the key-basket and went to the dining-room once more on a tour of inspection round the table, and then as she had nothing to do for the moment, she knocked at Aunt Rosa's door, which was only separated from the dining-room by a small entry.
The old lady was sitting at the window making roses. There was to be a wedding in the village at Whitsuntide. A small man was sitting opposite her, who greeted the entrance of the young wife with a low bow.
"Beg a thousand pardons, madam,--I wanted to speak to your husband--I heard he had gone out and the lady here permitted me to wait for him."
"What does he say, Mrs. Linden?" inquired the old lady, shaking hands, "I did not permit him to do any such thing. He came in himself--and here he is."
"My name is Wolff, madam," said the agent by way of introduction.
"Must you speak to my husband to-day? It will not be convenient, for we have company to dinner. Can't I arrange it?" inquired Gertrude.
"O, no--no--" said he, very decidedly, bowing as he spoke. "I must speak to Mr. Linden himself, but I can come again, there is no hurry, I used to come here every day. Good morning, ladies."
"What could he want, auntie?" inquired the young wife after he had gone.