'I have just paid my farewell visit to your father,' he began; 'and I could not omit saying good-bye to you in person, Fräulein.' 'You are leaving shortly?' inquired Hedwig. 'The day after to-morrow.' 'Edmund told me that your departure was imminent. He will miss you sadly.' 'And I him; but in this life we cannot stay to consult our feelings. When Fate decrees a separation, we must perforce submit and obey.' The remark was intended to be playful, but the young man's voice thrilled with a certain sadness. His gaze rested on Hedwig as she stood before him, leaning slightly against the wooden railing. The Councillor's anxiety must have been exaggerated. His daughter appeared rosy and blooming, full of grace and charm as ever. No tittle of change could be detected in her outward appearance, and yet she seemed quite other than the merry capricious fairy who had emerged so unexpectedly before two travellers from the clouds of drifting, driving snow. The flower which has blossomed in the full sunshine, but on which suddenly a shadow falls, remains in form and hue the same; it sends forth the same fragrance, only the sunlight has gone from it. Such a shadow now lay on the face of Count Ettersberg's happy, much-envied chosen bride, and the dark blue eyes had a dewy shimmer, as though they had learned a trick which so long had been unknown to them--the trick of tears.' 'The separation will be painful to you, then?' Hedwig said, continuing the conversation.' 'Certainly. In the great city, a longing will often come over me, a longing for Edmund and ... for the dear old mountains.' 'And none for Ettersberg?' 'None.' The answer was so brief and decided that the girl looked up in surprise. Oswald noticed this, and added, by way of amendment: 'Forgive me. I forgot that Ettersberg will shortly be your home. I was thinking only of the circumstances which have made my sojourn there a painful one, and which no doubt have long been known to you.' 'But surely the circumstances you speak of have been modified. The family now place no obstacle in the way of your future career.' 'No; I have forcibly secured for myself freedom of action; but it cost a conflict, and to contend with my aunt is no light task, as you will one day find out for yourself.' 'I?' asked Hedwig, in surprise. 'I trust no contention may ever arise between me and my mother-in-law!' She drew herself up as she spoke, and measured her companion with a half-proud, half-angry glance. He replied firmly and quietly: