The steep mountain-paths were for the most part so narrow as to allow only two persons to walk abreast; and upon first leaving the village Hilda and Eva usually went before, followed by the two young men; but this arrangement did not last long,--it was but natural that in any climbing Eva should lag behind her fleet-footed guide and that Leo should hasten to assist her unaccustomed steps, while Delmar walked with Hilda, who never needed assistance, and that in this order they should continue to pursue their way even when there were no difficulties to surmount. And when, after his two weeks of rest, Herwarth was able to mount a mule and take part in these expeditions this arrangement was in no wise altered, for naturally he rode beside his betrothed, who no longer desired to be left at home upon the balcony. Another mule was sometimes provided for Eva in very steep ascents; but Hilda, the mountain maid, could never be induced to admit that walking upon her beloved mountains could fatigue her, and her boldness and agility were quite equal to those displayed by Leo and Delmar. These expeditions had a rare charm for all who took part in them. Conventional constraint vanished in the familiar intercourse thus induced. A greater degree of intimacy was established among the party than would ever have been possible in the life of a city. When Leo led Eva along the narrow pathway upon the brink of some steep abyss and she grew giddy with a glance into its misty depths, she would cling to her guide in full confidence in his strength and sureness of foot; he would bear her in his arms across a foaming mountain-brook, lift her on and off of her mule, all small services which she could not but permit him to render her, and which filled him with a sense of ecstasy. When at some distance from the others he walked with her beneath the fragrant firs, as she leaned upon his arm he would gaze into the large dark eyes lifted to his own and forget past and future in a dream of the present, a dream which Eva shared, and it banished all memory of the hateful tie that bound her to Bertram. She would listen with a happy smile to Leo's words, and now and then her cheek would flush, although he never breathed a word of the love which she knew possessed his soul. Yes, she knew;--there was no need of a confession from his lips. Delmar did not, as did Leo and Eva, yield to the enjoyment of the moment without resistance; but even he could not withstand the charm of these daily walks by Hilda's side, of constant intercourse with one so frank and fair. In her gay unconsciousness Hilda never concealed from Paul how happy she was; she talked so merrily and freely that he could not but adopt the same familiar tone. He tried at first to treat her with reserve; she must not know how wildly his heart beat in her presence; he must be to her but an every-day acquaintance, no more to her than any other stranger.