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Mariechen!" said the little postman, seizing her hand and covering it with kisses; "you love some one else-you are already betrothed? And now it's too late, and you love some one else!" "I never said I loved some one else," Marie replied; "I only said it was too late. Why, it must be nearly five o'clock, and my lamps are not yet ready. I haven't a moment to spare.
The fault lay in something uncalled-for and apparently unavoidable, an evil, and at the same time necessary, outcome of the existing order of things. Then he began to reflect. How should he break the bad news to Mariechen? By many little scarcely noticeable signs he had become convinced that she loved the unfortunate young officer.
Unresisting she let him take her in his arms, and leaned her face against her father's cheek; bright tears ran down from his own eyes as he whispered to her over and over again: "Yes, cry, my little girl; cry, Mariechen!" And the first great sorrow of the woman calmed itself, even as had the school-girl's trivial griefs.
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