sed her, then continued:

"There! Shall I go on? Well, you took the two flowers in your hand, and
I saw you would like to give them to me, and I wanted to have them, but
even that I wouldn't ask. Often and often by day and by night, in the
field and on the watch, I thought of you, as the song says: and once,
when the teamster lay beside me, I spoke your name in my sleep."

"Oh, you are so dear and so good and so sweet," cried Thoma, "I'm
afraid I'm not gentle enough for you. In our home everything is rough,
we are not so----. But you'll see I can be different."

Her eyes moistened while she spoke, and the whole expression of her
face changed to one of humility and tenderness.

"I will not have you different," cried Anton, "you shall remain as you
are, for just as you are you please me best. Oh, Heaven! who in the
world would believe that Landolin's Thoma of Reutershoefen could be as
gentle as a dove."

"I gentle?" she exclaimed, laughingly, "I a dove? All right then, catch
me!" she cried, joyously clapping her hands and running quickly into
the forest, whither Anton followed her.

CHAPTER XII.

They came within the border of the wood which belonged to Landolin. On
the side where the sun is most searching and powerful, the bark of the
mighty pine-trees was torn open, and the resin was dropping into the
tubs which were set for it.

"It's a pity for the beautiful trees," said Anton; "your father mustn't
tap such trees as these hereafter; they are good for lumber. He must
leave them to me."

Thoma begged him to be very careful how he dealt with her father, for
he would not bear opposition.

"I don't know," she added, "it seems to me father is very----very
irritable to-day. I don't know why."

"But I know. He is vexed because he has to give you up. You'll see, I
shall be so too in a thousand weeks. But a man must be a grandfather
before----"

"Oh you!" interrupted Thoma, coloring.

They kept on deeper into the forest, away from the path, and sat down
on the soft, yielding moss at the foot of a far-branching pine.

"We have had enough kissing, let me rest a little now, I'm tired," said
Thoma, as she leaned against the tree. She smiled when Anton hastily
made his coat into a pillow for her head.

Lilies of the valley blossomed at their feet. Anton plucked one, and
with it stroked Thoma's cheek and forehead, gently singing the while
all manner of nursery songs, and magic