face in her lap, and kiss her hands again and again.

But these solemn hours were few.

First and last it was a happy fellowship, free and gay, though mingled
with earnest, that held us together; and when Ann's father had been some
few weeks dead our old gleefulness came back to us again, and then, after
gazing at her for a while, Herdegen would suddenly strike the lute and
sing the old merry round:

"Come, sweetheart, come to me.
Ah how I pine for thee!
Ah, how I pine for thee
Come, sweetheart, come to me.
Sweet rosy lips to kiss,
Come then and bring me bliss,
Come then and bring me bliss,
Sweet rosy lips to kiss!"

And we would all join in, even Cousin Maud; nay and she would look
another way or quit the chamber, stealing away behind Kunz and holding up
a warning finger, when she perceived how his Ann's "sweet, rosy lips"
tempted Herdegen's to kiss them. But there were other many songs, and
ofttimes, when we were in a more than common merry mood, we strange young
things would sing the saddest tales and tunes we knew, such as that
called "Two Waters," and yet were we only the more gay.

Herdegen could not be excused from his duty of paying his respects from
time to time to the many friends of our honorable family, yet would he
ever keep away from dances and feastings, and when he was compelled to