She looked round before answering. “I have seen him,” she said. “He has been here, and the Fräulein has been so angry! She says she will tell my master. Oh, it has been such a day!” The poor young woman, who was usually so composed and self-restrained, was on the point of bursting into tears; but by a strong effort she checked herself, and tried to busy herself with rearranging the white china cup, so as to place it more conveniently to my hand. “Come, Thekla,” said I, “tell me all about it. I have heard loud voices talking, and I fancied something had put the Fräulein out; and Lottchen looked flurried when she brought me my dinner. Is Franz here? How has he found you out?” “He is here. Yes, I am sure it is he; but four years makes such a difference in a man; his whole look and manner seemed so strange to me; but he knew me at once, and called me all the old names which we used to call each other when we were children; and he must needs tell me how it had come to pass that he had not married that Swiss Anna. He said he had never loved her; and that now he was going home to settle, and he hoped that I would come too, and——” There she stopped short. “And marry him, and live at the inn at Altenahr,” said I, smiling, to reassure her, though I felt rather disappointed about the whole affair. “No,” she replied. “Old Weber, his father, is dead; he died in debt, and Franz will have no money. And he was always one that needed money. Some are, you know; and while I was thinking, and he was standing near me, the Fräulein came in; and—and—I don’t wonder—for poor Franz is not a pleasant-looking man now-a-days—she was very angry, and called me a bold, bad girl, and said she could have no such goings on at the ‘Halbmond,’ but would tell my master when he came home from the forest.” “But you could have told her that you were old friends.” I hesitated, before saying the word lovers, but, after a pause, out it came. “Franz might have said so,” she replied, a little stiffly. “I could not; but he went off as soon as she bade him. He went to the ‘Adler’ over the way, only saying he would come for my answer to-morrow morning. I think it was he that should have told her what we were—neighbours’ children and early friends—not have left it all to me. Oh,” said she, clasping her hands tight together, “she will make such a story of it to my master.” “Never mind,” said I, “tell the master I want to see him, as soon as he comes in from the forest, and trust me to set him right before the Fräulein has the chance to set him wrong.” She looked up at me gratefully, and went away without any more words. Presently the fine burly figure of my host stood at the opening to my enclosed sitting-room. He was there, three-cornered hat in hand, looking tired and heated as a man does after a hard day’s work, but as kindly and genial as ever, which is not what every man is who is called to business after such a day, before he has had the necessary food and rest.