The Home in the Valley Part 12

CHAPTER X.

THE TRUANT.

Fourteen days elapsed. Gottlieb had fully learned the road from Almvik to the cottage in the valley. It had never entered the mind of any one of the inmates of the cottage to consider him a dangerous guest. Magde, who possessed a quick eye, soon discovered that Nanna was the cause of his visits; but she also perceived that Gottlieb was no dissembler.

Magde did not look further than this, for she did not suppose Nanna would ever love one who did not return her affection. Unrequited love she did not believe in, and she thought that Nanna was of her opinion in this respect.

And in truth thus it appeared, for neither Nanna nor Gottlieb experienced the slightest degree of restraint when in each other's society. The change that had taken place in Nanna's appearance was marvellous; the blossoms of buoyant and happy girlhood had usurped the place formerly occupied by lilies on her cheeks, and our young hero had more than once laughingly said:

"It is fortunate, Miss Nanna, that we made our agreement when we first met, for if we had not I do not know what would have happened. You become lovelier every day, Nanna."

Yet in spite of these words Gottlieb would blush with displeasure when their meetings at the spring were disturbed by a third person.

The youthful teacher and pupil continued their meetings at the little fountain, and Gottlieb at this spot gave Nanna her first instructions upon the guitar. To his great pleasure she learned quickly, and soon she was able to sing her beautiful songs to her own accompaniment on his favorite instrument.

Words are inadequate to describe Gottlieb's pride and elation when this was accomplished, and he was none the less rejoiced when he discovered how readily Nanna comprehended him when he read to her the writings of his favorite bards.

On her part Nanna replied to her kind teacher, by confiding to him all of her little plans, among the first of which she mentioned the school-room, the cat and the singing bird which he was to have, and Gottlieb gave her his advice concerning the arrangement of the benches in the school-room; the position which the black-board should occupy, and what little presents she should make her pupils as rewards of merit.

He concluded by promising to send her every year a letter of advice; possibly he might come himself, occasionally, who knew?

"I am sure of that," said Nanna, one afternoon in reply to Gottlieb, as he thus expressed himself, "for when you are married you will be obliged to visit Almvik to show your rich wife to your uncle and aunt."

"Perhaps," replied Gottlieb, with a laugh, "that journey will not be necessary, for if my aunt could only have her own way, she would certainly find me a wife in this neighborhood."

"Who could you possibly marry in this neighborhood?" inquired Nanna curiously.

"Ah! Mademoiselle Nanna," replied Gottlieb, "I easily perceive that you are not in the least danger, for you can hear that your friend Gottlieb is to be married and betray not the slightest emotion."

"Why should I be moved, Mr. Gottlieb? It will have to occur sometime,"

said Nanna innocently.

"And yet--"

"What yet!"

"You are a good girl."

"Ah, but don't you remember the agreement?"

"Yes, and I only intended to remark that it would not be difficult for you to adhere to it."

"Does that displease you, sir?" inquired Nanna in a tone of displeasure which was the more pertinent as it was foreign to her usual manner.

"Certainly not, Miss Nanna, on the contrary I am delighted that you should follow my advice so faithfully--either of the young ladies at the parsonage are suitable."

"Did you refer to one of those?" inquired Nanna, her countenance a.s.suming a deathly paleness, "O they are so beautiful."

"Yes, perfectly angelic--especially Miss--Miss--what is her name?"

"You probably allude to Miss Charlotte."

"Right, Miss Charlotte, whose hair is so black and beautiful."

"O, no, that is Sophia!" exclaimed Nanna.

"Well then, Miss Sophia, I prefer her."

"But why is it that you changed their names?" inquired Nanna.

"Why, you heard that I did not confound her black hair with her sister's brown ringlets."

"How strange! Charlotte's hair is quite light!"

"Of what earthly difference is it," replied Gottlieb, "whether Charlotte's hair is brown or white, I think only of the roguish and pretty Miss Sophia."

"I think you are jesting with me, sir," said Nanna laughing so heartily that the roses instantly returned to her cheeks.

"I jest with you!"

"Of course. Miss Sophia is so serious and thoughtful that no person would call her roguish."

"Were you not as quiet as an old prayer-book the first time I saw you?"

replied Gottlieb.

"And even if it was so--"

"Just look into the water, my little miss, and tell me whether you look as you used to."

"Then you would say, Mr. Gottlieb, that by some magic spell you have driven away Miss Sophia's gloominess?"

"Yes, I can say Miss Sophia's also."

"_Also?_--that is a bold speech!"

"Are you angry?"

"Oh, Gottlieb!"

"Ah, Miss Nanna. Are you weeping?"

"Mr. Gottlieb may be mischievous and tantalizing enough to compel me to do so; but this time he has not succeeded."

"Well, as I cannot force you to weep, I must confess the truth, and that is--"

"That you have seen neither of them," interrupted Nanna.