d, please God, they shall look down on a fair, good, happy life. We
will make it such a life that she may always have pleasure in beholding
it."

Only do not make a saint of her, Annele wanted to say, but checked
herself.

This was Wednesday of their wedding week, the whole of which was to be
kept as a time of holiday. Lenz worked a few hours daily, chiefly for
the sake of reminding himself that he had an occupation; he was
happier, too, after having worked a couple of hours. The wedding
festivities were, of course, lived over again, and very funny it was to
see Annele mimic the peculiarities of the different guests. She made
you actually see and hear the landlady of the Bear and of the Lamb and
of the Eagle, while her imitation of Faller's trick of rubbing his hand
over his mustache was so perfect that you could almost fancy a growth
of bushy hair above her roguish lip. There was no ill-nature, nothing
but harmless fun, in it all. She was thoroughly happy. "O, how
beautiful, how good and wholesome it is up here!" she cried, in the
morning; "and how still! I never could have believed there was such
quiet in the world. Sitting here, as I do, seeing and hearing nothing
of what goes on below, and not having to give an answer to anybody, it
seems to me I must be sleeping with my eyes open,--and such a pleasant
sleep! Down in the village, life is like a mill-wheel; here I am in
another world. I can almost hear my heart beat. For the next fourteen
days I do not mean to go down into the town. I will wean myself from it
altogether; I know I can. The people that live there have no idea how
good it is to be out of the world,--out of the hurry and hubbub and
stir. O Lenz, you do not know how well off you have been all your
life!"

Thus in a hundred different ways did Annele express her delight as she
sat in the morning by Lenz's side. "I knew you would like living here,"
he answered, his face beaming with joy; "and you may be sure I am
thankful to God and my parents for having been allowed to pass my life
in this place. But, dear little wife, we cannot stay up here a
fortnight all by ourselves. Next Sunday, at the farthest, we must go to
church, and I think we ought to pass even a little of to-day with our
parents."

"As you like. Happily, we cannot take this blessed rest away with us,
but shall find it waiting when we come home."

"And you, my mother," interrupted Lenz, looking up at his mother's
picture, "you are our ange