"I do not know; nothing more than that perhaps," answered Nora, pointing

to the cloud that was now passing over the sun.

"'Nothing more than that.' Well, that has now passed, so smile forth

again, my sun!" said Herman gayly.

"Ah, dear Herman, if this happy life could only last! this life in which

we wander or repose in these beautiful summer woods, among rills and

flowers and birds! Oh, it is like the Arcadia of which you read to me in

your books, Herman! Ah, if it would only last!"

"Why should it not, love?"

"Because it cannot. Winter will come with its wind and snow and ice. The

woods will be bare, the grass dry, the flowers all withered, the streams

frozen, and the birds gone away, and we--" Here her voice sank into

silence, but Herman took up the word: "Well, and we, beloved! we shall pass to something much better! We are

not partridges or squirrels to live in the woods and fields all winter!

We shall go to our own luxurious home! You will be my loved and honored

and happy wife; the mistress of an elegant house, a fine estate, and

many negroes. You will have superb furniture, beautiful dresses,

splendid jewels, servants to attend you, carriages, horses, pleasure

boats, and everything else that heart could wish, or money buy, or love

find to make you happy! Think! Oh, think of all the joys that are in

store for you!"

"Not for me! Oh, not for me those splendors and luxuries and joys that

you speak of! They are too good for me; I shall never possess them; I

know it, Herman; and I knew it even in that hour of heavenly bliss when

you first told me you loved me! I knew it even when we stood before the

minister to be married, and I know it still! This short summer of love

will be all the joy I shall ever have."

"In the name of Heaven, Nora, what do you mean? Is it possible that you

can imagine I shall ever be false to you?" passionately demanded the

young man, who was deeply impressed at last by the sad earnestness of

her manner.

"No! no! no! I never imagine anything unworthy of your gentle and noble

nature," said Nora, with fervent emphasis as she pressed closer to his

side.

"Then why, why, do you torture yourself and me with these dark

previsions?"

"I do not know. Forgive me, Herman," softly sighed Nora, laying her

cheek against his own.




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