of
leaves, then put it back again, changing its position again and again
until she found out how it suited him best.

Then she pressed his hand under her arm, laid her burning face upon his
shoulder, and thus strolled about with him.

Poor girl! She had forgotten, forgiven everything already!

Six days had passed since that ruling rival had left the house: Lorand
was not sad, did not pine after her, he was good-humored, witty, and
playful; he enjoyed himself. Czipra believed their stars were once more
approaching each other.

Lorand, the smiling and gay Lorand, was thinking that he had but one
more day to live; and then--adieu to the perfumed fields, adieu to the
songster's echo, adieu to the beautiful, love-lorn gypsy girl!

They went arm-in-arm across the bridge, that little bridge that spanned
the brook. They stopped in the middle of the bridge and leaning upon the
railing looked down into the water;--in the self same place where
Melanie's engagement ring fell into the water. They gazed down into the
water-mirror, and the smooth surface reflected their figures; the gypsy
girl still wore a green dress, and a rose-colored sash, but Lorand still
saw Melanie's face in that mirror.

In this place her hand had been in his: in that place she had said of
the lost ring "leave it alone:" in that place he had clasped her in his
arms!

And to-morrow even that would cause no pain!

Topandy now joined them.

"Do you know what, Lorand?" said the old Manichean cheerily: "I thought
I would accompany you this afternoon to Szolnok. We must celebrate the
day you meet your brother: we must drink to it!"

"Will you not take me with you?" inquired Czipra half in jest.

"No!" was the simultaneous reply from both sides.

"Why not?"

"Because it is not fit for you _there_.--There is no room for you
_there_!"

Both replied the same.

Topandy meant "You cannot take part in men's carousals; who knows what
will become of you?" while Lorand--meant something else.

"Well, and when will Lorand return?" inquired Czipra eagerly.

"He must first return to his parents," answered Topandy.

(--"Thither indeed" thought Lorand, "to father and grandfather"--)

"But he will not remain _there_ forever?"

At that both men laughed loudly. What kind of expression was that word
"forever" in one's mouth? Is there a measure for time?

"What will you bring me when you return?" inquired the girl childishly.

Lorand was merciless enough to j