But these two he locked up deep within him; even Elke surmised nothing of them. When the new year had come, there was a wedding; the bride was a relative of the Haiens, and Hauke and Elke were both invited. Indeed, at the wedding dinner it happened that, because a nearer relative was absent, they found themselves seated side by side. Their joy about this was betrayed only by a smile that flitted over the face of each. But Elke to-day sat with indifference in the midst of the noise of chattering and the click of the glasses. "Is something ailing you?" asked Hauke. "Oh, really nothing; only there are too many people here for me." "But you look so sad!" She shook her head; then again she said nothing. Then something like jealousy rose within him on account of her silence, and secretly, under the overhanging tablecloth, he seized her hand. She did not draw it away, but clasped it, as if full of confidence, round his. Had a feeling of loneliness come over her, as she had to watch the failing body of her father every day? Hauke did not think of asking her this; but his breathing stopped, as he pulled the gold ring from his pocket. "Will you let it stay?" he asked trembling, while he pushed the ring on the ring-finger of the slender hand. Opposite them at the table sat the pastor's wife; she suddenly laid down her fork and turned to her neighbor: "My faith, look at that girl!" she cried; "she is turning deadly pale!" But the blood was returning into Elke's face. "Can you wait, Hauke?" she asked in a low voice. Clever Frisian though he was, he nevertheless had to stop and think a few seconds. "For what?" he asked then. "You know perfectly well; I don't need to tell you." "You are right," he said; "yes, Elke, I can wait--if it's within a human limit." "Oh, God, I'm afraid, a very near one! Don't talk like that, Hauke; you are speaking of my father's death!" She laid her other hand on her breast; "Till then," she said, "I shall wear the gold ring here; you shan't be afraid of getting it back in my lifetime!" Then both smiled, and their hands pressed each other so tightly that on other occasions the girl would have cried out aloud. The pastor's wife meanwhile had looked incessantly at Elke's eyes, which were now glowing like dark fire under the lace fringe of her little gold brocade cap. But in the growing noise at the table she had not understood a word; neither did she turn to her partner again, for she was accustomed not to disturb budding marriages--and this seemed to be such a case--if only for the sake of the promise of the wedding-fee for her husband, who did the marrying. Elke's presentiment had come true; one morning after Easter the dikemaster Tede Volkerts had been found dead in his bed. When one looked at his face, one could see written upon it that his end had been calm. In the last months he had often expressed a weariness of life; his favorite roast, even his ducks, wouldn't please him any more.