be no more than
proper."

"I thought of it, but did not venture to, he is such a queer man."

For the first time they heard the bells in the valley ringing. "Is that
not beautiful?" said Lenz. "I have heard my mother say, a thousand
times, that we did not hear the bells themselves, but only their echo
from the wood behind the house, so that it is like hearing bells from
heaven."

"Yes; but we had better be starting now," returned Annele. On the way
she began: "Lenz, I do not ask from curiosity; I am your wife, and have
a right to know. I swear by those bells not to repeat it."

"You need never swear; I have a horror of oaths. Tell me what it is you
want to know."

"You and your uncle seemed to understand each other perfectly on the
day of the wedding; what has been settled about the inheritance?"

"Nothing; we have never exchanged a word on the subject."

"And yet you acted as if all were signed and sealed."

"I did nothing. I only said my uncle and I understood each other, and
so we do. We never speak of such things. He is free to do as he will."

"He was pushed into a corner, that day, that he could not have got out
of but for you. Such a chance will hardly occur again. He might have
been made to leave us a handsome legacy."

"I cannot bear to have strangers meddling in our family matters. I am
driven into no corner. If he leaves me nothing, I am quite able to take
care of myself."

Annele was silent; in her heart was no ringing of bells such as were
pealing clear over mountain and valley. They entered the church
together, and after the service stopped to see their parents before
going home. Not far from the open meadow Pilgrim called after them,
"Admit a poor soul into your paradise." They turned round, laughing.
Pilgrim was in excellent spirits on the way up, and still gayer at
table, where he finished by drinking a full glass to the health of his
future godson, and insisting on Annele's drinking with him. Her whole
manner towards her guest was friendly in the extreme. At first she was
disconcerted by occasionally meeting her husband's eye fixed upon her
with an expression of wonder at her powers of dissimulation. Even when
she refused to look his way, she fancied his glance of disapproval
behind her back, and grew positively angry. On looking round at last,
however, and seeing by his beaming face that he thought her perfectly
sincere in her assumption of friendliness, she became so in earnest,
and exc