I know, too, that a real honest heart is worth
something to any woman who knows how to
prize it."

"And do you think yours is the only heart
in the world? I can tell you, Mr. Modesty,
that I could have had a heart perhaps as honest
as yours, if I hadn't been a fool and thought
more of you than you merit."

"What do you mean, Katarina? You must
tell me now. Fritz's voice trembled, and his
sunburnt cheek grew pale with the strong effort
to preserve his self-command. "Are you thinking
of that man at the Black Eagle? Do you
believe that he would marry you?"

"Believe it! I know it. He implored me
to be his wife. I might have been richâ??a lady
â??and father would have been provided for;
but I said no."

"And why did you say no?" asked Rosenheim,
with his teeth set and his chest heaving.

"Why did I say no?" Kätchen was furious.
Was this the reception due to the announcement
of her noble conduct? She did not reflect
how she had been goading and irritating her
lover into anger.

"I said no because I was absurd enough to
think it would make you happy; but I see
now how foolish I have been."

There was a minute's pause. The two young
people stood opposite each other, she flushed
and excited, he pale, stern, deeply hurt. At
length he spoke:

"Well, Kätchen, I am truly sorry that I
have been the obstacle in your path. I'm too
sincere in my feelings towards you to say that
I wish you to marry another man. I ought to,
perhaps, but I fairly cannot. Only I'm grieved
to the heart that you should ever have been
hampered with a poor clumsy fellow like me,
that has neither money nor land to offer you.
And sinceâ??since you seem to repent what
you have done, I'll leave you at liberty, now
and for ever. You shall not have Fritz Rosenheim
to blot out the sunshine from you."
Kätchen was now standing at the window which
looked on the lake, and had her head turned
away from her lover. "Of course if you cared
for meâ??ever so little," pursued Fritz, "that
would alter the case; but you don't; I can see
that." A pause. "You don't care for me,"
repeated the poor young fellow, with so wistful
a look, that, if Kätchen could have seen it, her
obstinate perversity must surely have melted
away. But she did not see it. She kept her
head turned from him towards the lake, and
vouchsafed no answer. And in another minute
it was too late to give any, for old Kester
came hurrying down, and the breakfast was
hastily set on the table.

The meal was taken almost in silence. Fritz
was usually full of talk and mirth, but his
lightheartedness liad been effectually subdued; and
Kester was dull and preoccupied. At last
Fritz rose up with a great sigh, which came
out unawares, and made him colour the moment
afterwards.

"I must see to putting the luggage up,"
said he. "Will you mind giving a lift with the
boxes, Liese?"

Liese's help was very different from old
Kester's. She swung up one end of the great
trunks as easily as Fritz himself carried the
other, and the boxes were soon placed in the
cart. Then came the strapping and cording.
Fritz had had plenty of experience in such
matters, but it nevertheless took some time to
accomplish; for he was careful and anxious.
The large trunks were put in first, and the
small square box strongly secured on the top
of them. Fritz went into the house to pay his
score, and looked eagerly round the kitchen to
see if Kätchen would not vouchsafe one word,
even one look, to soften his regret. No, she
was not to be seen. There was no one but old
Kester, in one of his most depressed moods.
When Fritz brought out the piebald from the
stable to harness him, he found Liese still busy
about the cart, giving some finishing touches to
the cords and straps.

"Let beâ??let be, Liese," said he. "It's all
right and safe enough. I'll warrant any knot
of my tying to hold fast. And he tossed her a
piece of money as he mounted into his seat.
"Good-bye, Herr Kester," he cried out, and
the old man came to the door.

"Oh, you'll be passing back again soon,
Fritz Rosenheim."

"Well, no; I think not. It's likely I
shall go from Ischl by the Traun-see to
Grunnden, and thenâ??who knows?â??perhaps
even to Vienna. You won't see me again very
soon, I'm thinking."

"Well, take care of yourself. I hope we
shan't have snow before nightfall. You have
a heavy load."

"Ay," said Fritz, as he drove out of the
little yard and urged his horse along briskly;
"ay, a heavy load, as you say. Not that the
boxes are so much of a load, but I can
understand now what folks mean when they talk
of being heavy-hearted. My heart feels such
a weight in my breast that I almost wonder
the piebald can drag it behind him."

CHAPTER VIII.

MORE than a week passed away, uncomfortably
enough, at the Golden Lamb. Kester's
prediction about the snow had been verified.
It had begun to fall on the evening of the day
on which Fritz went away. But inside the
house things looked yet more chill and dreary.
Josef had accused his daughter of indulging in
more "moonshine" with Rosenheim. He
suspected that that hour they had been together in
the early morning had been spent in love-
making. But, to his amazement, Kätchen
informed him that she and Fritz were
thenceforth to be as strangers; that it was
clear he did not really love her; that she
cared nothing for him; and that so it was best
that they each go their separate ways, and
forget any absurd love-passages which might
have taken place between them. Kätchen spoke