"And all the rest may I not consider it as true?" "What do you mean?" "Well, all that we acted this evening." "That is a good deal." "Eugénie." "Well." "Can that be too much which alone can give me back the life and happiness you have taken from me a thousand times?" "When I consider...." "Oh, Eugénie, say that I may throw myself at your feet, that I may kneel before you. Do open the door--!" "Gently, gently, my dear friend. You certainly deserve some punishment. What! is this all your courage? You can only speak out what weighs on your mind behind the shelter of a closed door! I will bet anything that you have even put out the light hoping that the darkness may give you confidence. You dare not acknowledge your love for me in the face of day. You are a poor hero indeed. But I will now confess to you that I have owed you a grudge for many a year." "You are jesting again, Eugénie." "No, this time I am thoroughly in earnest. If in former years you had as little courage as now, why at all events could you not have been as cunning. Was there no door then behind which you could have owned to me what now comes too late!" "Too late? No, Eugénie; where are the years that separate us from that time? Is it not the same timid lad of those days who now stands here, and implores you to lighten the darkness around him with a heavenly ray from your eyes. Can you leave me to despair?" He waited some time for an answer. Suddenly the door was noiselessly opened, and she stood before him smiling, but with tears in her eyes. "One kiss freely given you, as a token of forgiveness for all you have made me suffer," she said. He folded her in his arms and she softly passed her hand across his brow, saying: "Here, there are many lines, but our hearts are still fresh and youthful, and to-morrow we will begin life anew where we left it off fourteen years ago." She pressed her lips to his, and with his arm round her waist, he led her to the window. The moon had dispersed the fog, and a gentle autumnal breeze wafted the scent of the grapes through the open casement. "Let US drive back to-night, my darling," she said. "I could not sleep now, and the air is quite mild. Go, while you order the carriage, I will write a few lines to the doctor, and tell him not to expect us to-morrow: Is it true, Valentine, can it be true, that we have at last told each other what we knew years ago?"-- FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 1: A part of Switzerland on the frontiers of Italy.--The Translator.] [Footnote 2: Not the Lombardy poplar, but the populus Alba, or Abele tree, which is wide spreading.--The Translator.] [Footnote 3: Name of a proménade at Meran.--The Translator.] [Footnote 4: Lauben. A provincial term for arcades.--The Translator.] [Footnote 5: This is an old custom at the German universities when a new comer enters the Fellowship--they call it "Brüderschaft trinken."--The Translator.] THE END.