"Well,--I should think it no great honour to go, under those circumstances; but you will do as you like. The day after to-morrow, then, I may rely upon you--" "You may rely upon me--" "You promise me faithfully--" "I promise you faithfully. And, Lenora, I have bought a new ribbon for my hat: do tie it round for me, there's a good girl--you can tie a bow so much better than I can--and let me have a nice nosegay." "Nonsense; you can gather your own nosegay. I shall soon have all your things to look up for the châlet--the cows' bells must be rubbed up, and their straps embroidered; you might and ought to have cleaned the bells and trappings yourself, if it were not for this wedding, which no way concerns you." "Who knows, Lenora? I may pick up a rich wife at it--Bianca has six sisters, who are going to play the six youngest brethren, and I shall have plenty of opportunities of making myself agreeable!" "You? Why, you have always talked of meaning to marry Theresa Hofer!" "She won't suit me," said Franz contemptuously; "I may do better for myself than that, I fancy." "I doubt it very much. More likely, you don't suit _her_." "That just shows how much you know about it. You girls think you may have anybody you like!--Well, don't let us talk any more of this nonsense; but come and cook these smelts for supper; and then I'll give you my hat to trim." "That's just like one of your givings: here--give me your hat, and do you drive in the cows." Franz would have liked her to do _both_, but he knew that was too much to expect; so he gave her the hat and the basket of fish, and prepared to collect the herd. When Lenora reached the cottage, she found rather a pleasant-looking man talking to her mother. "Here comes Lenora, I can tell, though I can't see," said he. "Lenora, I am telling your mother she is better off than I am, for she is only almost blind, but I am quite; and yet I contrive to find my way by myself from Meran to Innsbruck every summer, to tune the pianos." "Ah, there must be a special providence over you, Karl," said Lenora compassionately, "or you would come to some hurt." "I know there must be," said he devoutly. "However, now and then, some good Christian soul meets me and leads me by the hand along some difficult pass; but they are sent by God." "You should marry, Karl," said the old woman, "and then your wife would lead you." "Who would marry a poor blind fellow like me?" said Karl, rather sadly. "No, no; I must be content with chance kindnesses." "Well, you are sure to be welcome, wherever you go," said Lenora cheerfully. "And you shall have a dainty supper to-night, for Franz has caught some delicate fish." "Your mother tells me she's going to St. Kummernitz's shrine, for the benefit of her eyes," said Karl. "I never heard St. Kummernitz was particularly famous for that." "Oh, she's famous for everything," cried the old woman, in a sort of ecstasy; "dear blessed Saint! she cured me once of the toothache!"