began to walk up and down. He gathered some of the gentians, and also some white and some yellow flowers which gleamed amid the grass.
"I will give them to Tertschka," he murmured, casting a complacent glance at his improvised bouquet.
At last he caught the gleam of a light dress upon the hill. Some seconds after he saw Tertschka descending the pathway. He hastened to meet her. "Here I am," she said, out of breath. "I have been able to get away this time without hindrance."
George stood gazing at her.
Her head was bare; the scarf which she habitually wore was gone, and her thick hair was parted simply on her forehead. A crimson kerchief which she wore around her neck cast a soft flush upon her pale cheeks, and her sober-coloured bodice, though too large for her, and her striped petticoat of muslin, were not unbecoming.
"How pretty you look!" he said at last.
She cast down her eyes and blushed.
"Take these flowers," George continued. "I plucked them whilst I was waiting for you."
She took the bouquet which he had until then held behind his back, and tried to fasten it in her bodice, but it was too large, and so she continued to hold it in her hand, together with her rosary. They went on together down the mossy path and on through the cornfields, where the newly-reaped wheat stood in great sheaves of burnished gold.
At length they reached the hamlet of Schottwein. They found it in a state of great animation. It was mass day; the long, wide street which composed the village was thronged with all sorts of vehicles and with peasants clothed in their holiday garb. Opposite the church stalls were standing, crammed with every kind of goods for sale in rich variety shawls of gay colours, cotton handkerchiefs, pipes, knives, glass bead necklaces, imitation coral ornaments, were piled side by side with cooking utensils, gingerbread, and children's toys.
They paused in ecstasy before the grandeur of the sight. George longed for a pipe. He used to smoke when a soldier. Now that he gained a living, and neither drank nor gambled with his comrades, he could well afford the luxury. He asked Tertschka's advice, and she encouraged him to buy one. Whilst he made his purchase, Tertschka strolled on in advance.
George elbowed his way through the crowd of loafers who pressed around the stall, and bought a pretty porcelain pipe, embellished with tassels and a silken cord.
A brilliant necklace of amber beads caught his fancy. He imagined how pretty it would look on Tertschka's neck. The stall-keeper asking him but a moderate sum, it was soon wrapped in paper and in his pocket. And next, out of the change of the florin which he had given in payment, George bought at a neighbouring stall a gingerbread cake in the shape of a heart. He finally purchased some tobacco, and hastened on to join Tertschka.
He began by showing her the pipe, which she admired exceedingly.
"This is for you," he added, holding out the gingerbread heart. The heart was stamped in the centre with another heart, red, thrust with an arrow, and encircled with a garland of flowers.
She slipped it with a pleased smile of gratification between her bouquet and her rosary.
"I have something else for you," he continued presently, drawing the little packet slowly from his pocket, half opening it, and letting her see the gleaming of the yellow beads. She cast a rapid glance upon it.
"How could you spend so much money on me?" she cried. But her face was all rosy with pleasure, and her eyes sparkled with innocent joy.
"If I could only give you all that I desire!" he replied, with emotion. "But put it on and see how it looks."
She gave him her things to hold whilst she put on the necklace. But she could not succeed in fastening it.
"Let me do it," said George, and lifting gently the heavy masses of hair which clustered on her neck, he brought the two little ends of the snap together.
"There!" he said, examining her with a look of satisfaction. They continued their route and soon came in sight of the little chapel standing in a cluster of lime trees.
Tertschka knelt down in the last row of benches, and placed her flowers and gingerbread before her. George stood erect behind her. He was much affected by that scene, so calm, so still. A mellow light streamed down through the lofty arched windows. But he could not pray. His eyes were fixed constantly upon that kneeling figure with bowed head and murmuring lips before him.
The mass ended. The priest blessed the congregation as they passed out; but still she knelt. At length she rose, and, followed
