"You need not speak, Thoma. Give me a kiss, and that will say everything." "I cannot. Anton, 'tis hard for me to talk. I would far rather be dumb, and unable to speak. Anton, it's good and kind of you to come. But tell me,--you are honest--tell me, does your father feel toward my father as you do? Is it not true,--you can't say yes?--you are here against his will. Your father"---- "My father honors and loves you." "I believe that. But, Anton, I can never be happy again, nor bring happiness to others. I beg of you strike our house from your mind. One blow will be enough to destroy it." "Oh! Your house still stands firm. Thoma, you were right. On that day I did not know what I saw or what I heard; but now that is all past. Thoma, I know you. Your heart is honest, and I cannot blame you for it, though it gives you much sorrow. Thoma, you cannot appear to be happy before the world, because you are not happy. Say, do I not understand you?" She nodded, suppressed sobs were heard, and Anton continued: "Darling Thoma! I tell you, you can and must be happy; and that without telling a lie." "I can't rejoice in stolen goods." Thoma forced herself to say. "I understand. I know what you mean. But your honor and my honor are not stolen. I beg of you, be good, be kind. I beg the wicked Thoma to trouble my good Thoma no longer. You exaggerate----. "Perhaps so. There--you may take my hand for the last time." "I will not take it for the last time." "Then I say good night; thank you a thousand times!" Anton tried to throw his arm around her, but she tore herself away, and hastened into the house. He waited awhile to see if she would not relent; but as all continued silent, a spirit of defiance awoke within him, and he went away without turning around, though he sometimes paused and listened to hear if any one were following or calling him. At length he disappeared in the forest. CHAPTER XLVI. There is still merriment in the world; song, music, and laughter. Joyous, singing, laughing people drive along the plateau in wagons decorated with flowers and green boughs. They are seen and heard from Landolin's house; he nods to them from the open window; he is in holiday attire and has decided to go to the celebration, and take part again in the world's gayety. Turning, he said to his wife, who sat in the room: "Hanne, Thoma won't go; can't you go with me?" "I would rather you'd let me stay at home."