"What, Gretchen, will you not take it from your guardian? Why, this is a guardian's duty. And I will not give it to you, I will only lend it, and you can repay me when you are able."
"You will have to wait a long time,--I have so little that I can call my own. It will embarrass me very much to be in your debt."
"Gretchen," said the young man earnestly, "do not let us speak of such trifles. I transport you to N----, you transport me to heaven. Which owes most to the other--you or I?"
Gretchen could not reply. These new, strange words bewildered her. The sunlight streaming from them penetrated her heart, crushed by the tempest of grief that had swept over it. The blossom opened,--she was no longer a child!
She looked down in confusion. Hilsborn too was embarrassed. Neither could immediately recover from a certain constraint.
"Will you do me a great favour?" the girl asked at last
"Well?"
"Take me to where my father is lying, and let me bid him farewell once more."
"My dear Fräulein Gleissert, I would do so with all my heart, but it would take us half an hour to reach the house where he lies, and the train starts in three-quarters of an hour. If you will remain here another day, I will do what you ask."
"No, oh, no!" cried Gretchen in alarm. "I would not for the world trespass any longer upon Herr Meyer's hospitality, or wound my mother's new-found affection any further. It is better to go as quickly as possible. If my poor father still sees and hears me, he must know that I feel the pain of parting from him thus quite as much as if I were allowed to weep beside his lifeless body."