her relations took her home, and I did not see her again. Later I
heard that the same afternoon she was taken ill with diphtheria, and
in her illness she cried so much for me that her mother came to mine
to beg her to send me to her. My mother said nothing to me about it,
fearing I might catch the disease. Sonia died the second day, and my
name was the last word on her lips. I cried very much when they told
me, and since then I have never forgotten my little Sonia."

"A strange story," said Loulou softly; "such a little girl to fall
in love so suddenly. Yes," she went on, "if she had grown up--"

She could not say more, as Wilhelm, who had come near her, looked at
her with wide-open, far-seeing eyes, and suddenly threw his arms
round her. She cried out softly, and sank on his breast. "Loulou,"
"Wilhelm," was all they said. It had happened so quickly, so
unconsciously, that they both felt as if they were awaking from a
dream, as Loulou a minute later freed herself from his burning lips
and encircling arms, and Wilhelm, confused and hardly master of his
senses, stood before her. They turned silently homeward. She
trembled all over and did not dare to take his arm. He inwardly
reproached himself, yet he felt very happy in spite of it. Then,
before they had reached the summit of the castle hill, he gathered
all his courage together and said anxiously:

"Can you forgive me, Loulou? I love you so much."

"I love you too, Wilhelm," she answered, and stretched out her hand
to him.

"Dare I speak to your mother, my own Loulou?" whispered he into her