with young leaves guttering against their cheeks.





V

Three days had passed since Harz began his picture, when early in the
morning, Greta came from Villa Rubein along the river dyke and sat down
on a bench from which the old house on the wall was visible. She had not
been there long before Harz came out.

"I did not knock," said Greta, "because you would not have heard, and it
is so early, so I have been waiting for you a quarter of an hour."

Selecting a rosebud, from some flowers in her hand, she handed it to
him. "That is my first rosebud this year," she said; "it is for you
because you are painting me. To-day I am thirteen, Herr Harz; there is
not to be a sitting, because it is my birthday; but, instead, we are all
going to Meran to see the play of Andreas Hofer. You are to come too,
please; I am here to tell you, and the others shall be here directly."

Harz bowed: "And who are the others?"

"Christian, and Dr. Edmund, Miss Naylor, and Cousin Teresa. Her husband
is ill, so she is sad, but to-day she is going to forget that. It is not
good to be always sad, is it, Herr Harz?"

He laughed: "You could not be."