So, as the evening was clear and fine, she must have come alone to meet him, that they might have the joy of walking back to the Schloss together! He entered the church. It was gaily decorated for the coming Christmas-eve. No one was in the church, and Charlie's heart began at once to sink, when there was a sound behind him, and coming down two steps, from a door that he had not observed before, was his own Ernestine. 'Carl! Carl! It is thee! Thee, at last!' she exclaimed, in a piercing voice, and, with innocent self-abandonment and a tenderness that was irrepressible, but peculiarly her own, she flung herself into his arms, as on that night in the boudoir. She was dressed as if for a ball or some great festival; but Carl remembered that this was Christmas-time, always a season of gaiety at Frankenburg as elsewhere. Her dress was white silk, covered with waves of the finest white lace. A great veil of the latter material enveloped her head and shoulders. She wanted but a white wreath to make her look like a lovely bride, and Charlie's heart throbbed with pride and joy to think that she was his own. He thought she looked pale and tired. It might be--nay, doubtless, it must be--that the months of past anxiety had told upon her system as on his own. Yet her eyes had all the tender purity of an angel's in them, though when she became excited there came over them a strange glitter, a restless flashing, a sparkling animation, that contrasted strongly with the languor of her form and actions; but happily there was no fever flush on her cheek, which was pale--paler than of old, as Charlie thought. Long and silent was their embrace ere they spoke in broken accents of all they had mutually undergone; and, while speaking, her head nestling as it used to do on Charlie's neck, she shuddered sometimes, for she seemed to be sorely chilled by the damp cold atmosphere of the old church. 'Are all well at the Schloss?' asked Charlie suddenly, after a pause, as the last evening's conversation recurred to him. 'All! Thank Heaven!' replied Ernestine. 'And your father, the Herr Graf?' 'Well, too.' Charlie was puzzled. He must have been in a dream, or have misunderstood the remarks of the two barons. 'Is Heinrich with the regiment?' he asked. 'No,' she replied, 'dear Heinrich is at the Schloss, and this morning put your letter into my hand; and then, after, to tease or please me, in my bosom. See, it is there now!' she added, in the most engaging manner. 'You found no difficulty in coming to meet me, dearest?' 'None.' 'How fortunate--how happy we are!' 'My poor Carl!' 'Why poor? I feel to-night the happiest man in Germany.'