Slowly the tops of the trees stood out one after another in the sunny light, and the course of the heavenly orb could be measured beneath them in the green verdure, in which the quivering, leafy network spun its shadows ever farther over the campanulas, whose calix had just now glittered in the sunny illumination. Every branch, every flower, became a hand of the sun's clock for the impatient tarrier, while its seconds and minutes moved haltingly forward. Blanden's disquiet was not the consequence of that longing with which joyous, triumphant love goes to a reunion. A single meeting may make a deep impression on the heart, but yet it only yields an uncertain picture, more resembling a vision, than tangible reality, and how much still is left to the enquiring mind; how easily is a delusion possible, which lends a lasting value to a transitory mood! Will the second meeting uphold that which the first one promised? Will it confirm the deep impression which Blanden had received of the campanula in the forest's gloom? He hardly dared to doubt it; this doubt would have made him unhappy already; because he believed himself to have found that which would be able to give rest and peace to his life. He hoped for a chance encounter, which might be looked for with certainty in the so little frequented Warnicken; he would not as yet introduce himself into the house, to the family; he dreaded lest its middle-class setting should rob his fancy's picture of its entrancing magic, nor did he feel justified at present in displaying his interest in the girl in so conspicuous a manner. Morning's freshness, however, did not seem to be beloved by the Warnicken visitors. For a long time no living beings showed themselves. At last Blanden saw the shimmer of a summer dress through the bushes; his heart beat, as if it must be Eva; but it was an old maid in a washed-out morning toilet, carrying a yapping lap-dog, casting a few indifferent glances at the sea, and retiring immediately again, after this modest enjoyment of nature. Below, by the rope, a bald-headed male visitor splashed in the but slightly-disturbed waves; everything else was quiet and tranquil. Blanden walked uneasily up and down. Perhaps the whole colony had made some excursion; he would return to the inn to make enquiries about Regierungsrath Kalzow, as chance, upon which he had at first calculated, did not favour him. The sea, after yesterday's storm, lay in sunny clearness and calm; the splashing of the breakers on the strand only rose like a gentle murmur; merely a slight quiver spread over the vast surface; one hardly knew whether it was the shadow of a cloud flying past, or the pulse's gentle throb of the slumbering sea itself. Then Blanden perceived a boat being put off from the shore; two girls sat in it, one of whom rowed, while the other, in a clear voice, sang a merry song.