to
me."

Lenz passed his hand across his brow as she spoke, and said, "Annele,
may I ask you a question?"

"Yes, I will tell you anything."

"Don't be angry with me, but is it true that you are as good as engaged
to the engineer?"

"Thank you for asking me so plainly. There is my hand upon it, there is
no word of truth in the story; nothing has ever passed between us."

Lenz held her hand firmly, and said, "Permit me one question more."

"Ask what you will, you shall have an honest answer."

"Why is your manner towards me so different when Pilgrim is here? Has
anything ever passed between you and him?"

"May this wine be poison to me, if I do not speak the truth," replied
Annele, seizing Lenz's glass, and putting her lips to it, in spite of
his assuring her there was no need to swear; that he could not bear
oaths. "If all men were like you," she continued, "there would be no
need of oaths. Pilgrim and I are always teasing and bantering each
other, but he does not really understand me; and, when you are by, I
cannot endure his jesting and nonsense. But now I must ask you a favor.
If you want to know anything about me, no matter what, ask no one but
myself. Promise me; give me your hand on it!"

They grasped each other's hand.

"I am a landlord's daughter," continued Annele, sadly. "I am not so
fortunate as other girls, who do not have to receive every one that
comes, and laugh and talk with him. I carry the thing through as well
as I can, but am not always what I seem. I know I may say this to you.
I might often be depressed; but the only way is to put on a bold face,
and laugh sadness away."

"I should never have imagined you could have a sad thought pass through
your mind. I fancied you as merry as a bird the whole day long."

"I like better to be merry," answered Annele, with a sudden change of
tone and expression. "I like nothing sad, not even sad music. 'Das
klinget so herrlich, das klinget so schoen!' that is a merry tune to
jump and dance to."

The conversation returned to the subject of music, and the clock
that had been sent off that day. Lenz liked to tell of his having
accompanied The Magic Flute through part of its long journey, and how
he wanted to call out to every porter and driver and sailor on the way:
"Take care! pity you cannot hear what you have got packed up there."

Lenz had never before been the last guest in the inn. He could not make
up his mind to get up and go home. The great