"No, sir; an honest Tyrolese girl never kisses any man but the one whose wife she is to be. You see, therefore, that I cannot give you a kiss. Go, sir. But have you no commissions to give me for your uncle and my dear Elza?" "Greet them both; tell them that I love you, Eliza, and that you rejected my proposals." "That does not concern anybody, and only we two and the good God shall know it, but no one else. But, sir, give me a souvenir for Elza; it will gladden her heart." "I have nothing to give her," he said, shrugging his shoulders. She pointed to the crimson Alpine roses blooming at their feet amidst the grass and moss. "Gather some of these flowers, and give them to me," she said; "I will take them to Elza, and tell her that you gathered the flowers for her." He knelt down, gathered a handful of Alpine roses, and tied them together with a few blades of grass. "I would," he said, still kneeling in the grass, "they were myrtles that I was gathering for you, Eliza, for you, my affianced bride, and that you would accept them at my hands as the sacred gift of love. There, take the bouquet for Elza, and give it to her with my greetings." She stretched out her hand to take it; but Ulrich, instead of giving it to her, pressed the bouquet to his lips, and imprinted an ardent kiss on the flowers; then only did he hand it to Eliza.--"Now, Eliza," he said, "take it. You refused me a kiss, but you will carry my glowing kiss home with you, and with it also my heart. I shall come back one day to demand of you your heart and my kiss. Farewell! It is your will, and so I must go. I do not say, forget me not; but I shall return, and ask you then: `Have you forgotten me? Will you become my wife?' Until then, farewell!" He gazed at her with a long look of love and tenderness; she avoided meeting his look, and when he saw this, a smile, radiant as sunshine and bliss, illuminated his features. "Go, sir," she said, in a low voice, averting her face. "I am going, Eliza," he exclaimed. "Farewell!" He seized her hand impetuously, imprinted on it a burning kiss before she was able to prevent him, dropped it, and turned to descend the slope with a slow step. Eliza stood motionless, and as if fascinated; she gazed after him, and followed with an absorbed look his tall, noble form, descending the mountain, surrounded by a halo of sunshine. All at once Ulrich stood still and turned to her. "Eliza," he shouted, "did you call me? Shall I return to you?" She shook her head and made a violent gesture indicating that he should not return, but said nothing; the words choked in her breast. He waved his hand to her, turned again, and continued descending the slope. Eliza looked after him; her face turned paler and paler, and her lips quivered more painfully. Once they opened as if to call him back with a cry of anguish and love; but Eliza, pressing her hand violently upon her mouth, forced the cry back into her heart, and gazed down on Ulrich's receding form.