And at Michaelmas the two clerical recruits arrived at head-quarters, and Franz went away to the agricultural college at Eldena, and as he went out of the Pastor's garden, there looked after him, over the fence, in the same place where Fritz had sat, with his bread and butter and his beer-bottle, a dear, beautiful face, and the face looked like a silken, rose-red purse, out of which the last groschen had been given for a dear friend. When Louise came back into the parlor, in the twilight, that evening, the Frau Pastor in took the lovely girl upon her lap, and kissed the sweet mouth, and pressed the pure heart to her own. Well the women-folks can't help doing such things! CHAPTER XIV. The evening before St. John's day, 1843, David Däsel's oldest boy was sitting with Johann Degel's youngest girl, in the pleasure-garden at Pumpelhagen, enjoying the moonlight, and Fika Degel said to Krischan Däsel, "Say, did you see her, that time, when you took the horses to the young Herr?" "To be sure I saw her; he took me into the parlor, and shewed her to me, and said, 'See, this is your gracious lady!' and she filled me a glass, that I should drink there." "What does she look like?" "Well," said Krischan, "it is hard to describe her; let me see, she is about your size, and has such light hair as yours, and just such a pink and white face, and she has grey eyes also, as you have, and just such a little, old, sweet, pouting mouth," and with that, he pressed a hearty kiss on the red lips. "Gracious, Krischan!" cried Fika, freeing herself from his arm, "then does she look just like me?" "Child, have you no more sense than that?" said Krischan. "No, don't flatter yourself to that extent! You see, that sort of people have always a something about them, quite different from our sort. The gracious lady might sit here with me, till she were frozen to death in midsummer, it would never come into my head to give her a kiss." "So?" said Fika Degel, standing up, and tossing her pretty head, "then you think I am good enough for you?" "Fika," said Krischan, throwing his arm round her again, though she made a show of resistance, "that sort are too slender-waisted, and have too weak bones for us, if I should hug her as I do you, I should always be afraid of dislocating her spine, or knocking her down. No," said he, stroking her soft hair, "like must mate with like." And as they separated, Fika was quite gracious again towards her Krischan, and looked as friendly as if she were his gracious lady. "Well, I shall see you to-morrow," said she, "I am going to help the girls tie wreaths, in the morning."