He would have avoided being alone with her, but that was impossible. If Leo and Eva were to come together they must be left to themselves; their love must so increase in familiar intercourse as to conquer any prejudice that might separate them even after Eva's engagement to Bertram should be annulled. If he would promote his friend's happiness, Paul must be Hilda's sole companion upon these mountain-walks. Thus he was forced to take with her the lead in all their expeditions, although he offered her none of those small services which Leo rendered to Eva with such delight. Hilda would have laughingly rejected them, for she needed no assistance even on the steepest paths and dizziest heights. Her head never for an instant swam even when she stood upon the extreme brink of some frightful abyss and gazed down into its depths; she sprang with graceful agility from stone to stone in crossing the mountain-torrents, and was always at hand to give aid, although she never needed it. Once only Paul was forced to proffer Hilda the aid of his strong arm; they had reached the banks of a rushing brook, across which there had formerly been a bridge, which a late freshet had carried away. There were no large stones in the midst of the water by which Hilda could cross. Had she been alone she would, it is to be feared, have dashed across without minding a thorough drenching, but that would never do with any one by to see her, and she looked eagerly for some way to gain the opposite bank. "You will have to let me carry you across, Fräulein von Heydeck," Paul said, after searching in vain for a place where Hilda could cross without his aid. "Shall I not be too heavy for you, Herr Delmar?" the girl asked, with an arch smile. For answer he lifted her lightly in his arms and strode through the foaming water. How easily he seemed to do it, and yet the light burden was almost too much for him. His heart throbbed so that he thought she must hear it; his cheeks flushed crimson, and he almost staggered beneath her light weight, when Hilda shrank from the dashing water and leaned more closely upon his shoulder. And yet he could have wished to bear her thus in his arms for hours. With a sigh he released her upon the opposite bank of the stream, and she thanked him, and laughing at his thoroughly drenched condition, passed on through the forest, while he stilled the wild throbbing of his heart and the rushing of the blood in his veins as best he might. How variable and whimsical he must seem to Hilda! he thought. Now he would adopt a cold tone towards her, and now indulge in outbursts of the wildest merriment, striving with a jest to deaden the agitation of his soul. He saw that these jests were not pleasing to Hilda; she grew very grave when he was recklessly gay; he would not distress her, and so restrained himself and compelled himself to talk earnestly and quietly. For this she rewarded him with eager interest and ready sympathy.