After a few moments during which they were sunk in thought, he said: "I know your mother will succeed in realizing my wish. She is a good spokesman. And I will be near you on that day, Rita--near you!" And as though unable any longer to control his tumultuous feelings he jumped up, took her in his arms, and whispered softly in her ears, "My Rita!" She rested upon his bosom, as if stunned, quivering with blissful joy. The uncertainty and misgiving that had troubled her heart throughout these many weeks was now converted into a happy reality. He loved her! He! He raised her bowed head and read the confession of her love in the eyes that looked at him in pure radiance. Deep emotion took possession of him. She loved him with the love that springs up in the sweet, secret longings, in the pure maidenly fervor, in the rare, modest timidity of the daughters of that people from which he had at one time turned away. As if his thoughts had been transferred to her, she slowly disengaged herself from his arms, hid her face in her hands, and relieved the oppression of her soul in tears. He led her back to the place from which he had so impetuously drawn her, seated her, then kneeled before her, and embraced her softly, tenderly. "Rita, dear sweet Rita, my precious child. Why do you cry? What makes you sad? What frightens you?" "Happiness." He drew her to him again passionately, and said: "You shall learn to know this happiness in all its joy. It will exalt you, not sadden you." "You forget what separates us," she stammered, suddenly alarmed, and tried to free herself from his arms. He started violently. Then he threw his head back with a proud, victorious gesture, and, caressing her, he said in a firm voice: "That which separated us, draws us together, my love, my sweet love!" She clung to his neck, and without resistance she gave herself up to his kisses. * * * * * At dinner, Rita, to conceal from her father and Hugo the cause of her quiet and reserve, pleaded a headache. She merely mentioned the visit of Dr. Weilen; he had come to pay his New Year's call. Hugo looked at her so searchingly that she blushed, and turned away from his gaze. "Did you explain to him that we no longer keep open house, since we have plainly been given to understand that we, citizens of a lower estate, have no right to and no part in the holidays of the others?" Deep resentment lay in his words. She looked at him as though her thoughts were of another world, while her father said in irritation: "Can't you grant us a moment's respite from your indignation and your scorn? You display your malice at every opportunity. It is really ridiculous for you to ask Rita whether she met the politeness of a visitor with such an unpleasant reception." Rita cast a grateful glance at her father; her eyes shone with the brightness of suppressed tears.