"Why these melancholy thoughts?" said Eva, "why think of others to-day? We will care for them all our life, mitigate every want, whenever we encounter them--this I have vowed to myself; but, on this one day, we have the right to think only of ourselves, to give ourselves up alone to the feeling of blissful enjoyment." "That will we; you are right! Do I not hear, amidst the loud music, the quiet blue forest bells ring harmoniously, fairy-like, my lovely campanula! It is a wedding-march of the elves, that only my ear perceives, for what does the world comprehend of the midsummer night's dream that we dream together?" Meanwhile, the procession had arrived at the pear tree, and merry tunes were played upon the dancing ground above which the moon's rays flickered. Village beauties and lady visitors whirled round in gay confusion; even father Baute joined the dances, while Reising, uninitiated in that art, leaned somewhat annoyedly against the old tree's stem. In vain Euphrasia and her six sisters invited him to dance, and Lori and the little ones could not suppress a few ill-natured remarks, which were pointed at the young philosopher's awkwardness. Blanden perceived, with supreme satisfaction, that the old Chief Forester opened the dance with Eva; that worthy man, with silvery beard and the iron cross upon his breast, gave to Blanden's young love the blessing of the older generation, which, in his own house had become extinct. But for his present struggles, this venerable man was a beautiful example. Even if he could not attain the fearlessness of such a sterling nature after spending his life in such wild storms, he could strive to follow it in steady labour and work, and, like the Forester in his calling, stand firmly in doing active good. The music made a pause. Kalzow cleared his throat; he felt that the moment for the announcement of the betrothal had arrived. Arm in arm, Blanden and Eva were still resting from the last dance. Then the gentle roll of wheels upon the soft grass roused their attention. A carriage drew up; a lady descended and approached the dancing ground through the opening rows of people. A white veil, which intercepted the moonlight in a spectre-like manner, still concealed her features. Eva's heart beat violently, she released herself from her future bridegroom's arms, and extended her own to the strange figure. There could be no doubt; she it was, who was expected so ardently. Then the stranger threw back her veil; the moon lay full upon refined but ghastly pale features. Two large eyes, dimmed with tears, rested with intense pain, like two stars of evil boding, upon the youthful, beautiful form that hastened to meet her with all the eagerness of love. Soon Eva lay upon her mother's heart; in intense rapture, both forgot the staring crowd.