“We will wait,” said Schwarzburg. “Three years,” said papa. My head turned. I could not realize my happiness. So it was not, as I had with fear and trembling so fully expected to hear: “Do it if you will. But give up all hope of our consent!” “Only three years?” I asked. “Not a day less,” said mamma. And I: “Why, that is nothing! We would wait _ten_ years if you required it, dearest father and mother. We are happy beyond everything, and have no other wish than----” “Speak for yourself!” put in Bernhard. Baron Schwarzburg was looking decidedly alarmed, and I asked him: “Do you think so? To wait--wait for each other--what could be more heavenly?” “The shorter, the more heavenly,” he returned. Elizabeth, coming up to me, had taken me in her arms. “See, what a wise, sensible child it is! Three years’ probation are too little for her; she prefers ten. Ah, she knows death is easy, but marriage is a venture!” “Do not jest, countess,” interposed Schwarzburg. “I consent to three years--not a day less, but not a day more.” His voice faltered, but a strong, unswerving determination gleamed in his eyes. “So it is settled, and so it shall remain. A few hours ago,” he continued, turning to me, “I had counted the happiness that has come to me as utterly unattainable; but now I have known it; it is mine, and I hold it fast, as fast as I am wont to hold the things most precious to me; and you are the most precious thing of all to me, Paula, and, I well know, the most sure.” He took my hand, “In three years; but then; for life.” “From now; for life.” I could say no more. He took leave of us all. How sweet and natural Elizabeth was with him! Oh, dear sister mine, can I ever thank you enough? Only when the door had closed upon him, did the consciousness of our parting fall with leaden weight upon my heart. He had gone, and we had scarce--nay, we had not even said good-by to each other. An unspeakable sense of yearning came over me; I fought with the tears which choked me. No one said a word. Suddenly Bernhard said laughingly: “Why, he has actually gone without his hat!” All at once it flashed across me where it had been left; and I ran to the great drawing room to fetch it. To the drawing room they came, papa and the baron--and how it happened I have not the least conception, but the next instant I was in the arms of my betrothed, pressed close to his heart, and he was showering kisses upon me--hot, passionate kisses. Papa was standing by us; no longer the stern papa of the last few weeks, but the tender, loving one of old, and of all time to come. I had only to look into his dear face to straightway regain my former boundless confidence in him; and in the strength of this confidence to say: “May I write to him, papa?” “And I to her?” asked Schwarzburg. Papa hesitated. “Why? what for? See----” he broke off, sighed, looked at us both with strong emotion, then with all the loving intonation of old came the dear, priceless formula: