undiminished by any effort they make.

When Hilda was told that if she and Greif loved each other they should
marry, she was far less surprised than her mother had been when old
Greifenstein had made his proposal. It seemed strange to the baroness
that her daughter should not even blush a little on learning the news.
But Hilda saw no reason for blushing and did not feel in the least
disconcerted. To her it all seemed perfectly natural. She had always
loved Greif, ever since she could remember anything. Why should he not
love her? And if they loved each other, they would of course be married
in due time. It was but the fulfilment of her life, after all. There
was surely nothing in the idea to cause her any emotion. Did not Heaven
dispose everything in the best possible way, and was not this the best
possible thing that could happen? Did the hawk mate with the wren, or
the wild boar with the doe? But the baroness did not understand. She
asked Hilda if she should be very unhappy if Greif died, or if he
married some one else.

'God will not be so unkind,' answered the young girl simply.

Frau von Sigmundskron was silent. It was clear that Hilda, in her
innocence, had never expected anything else, but her mother trembled to
think of what might happen if that simple faith were rudely
disappointed. It was characteristic of the devoted mother that she
thought of her child's heart, and not of the worldly difference to
Hilda between single life at Sigmundskron and wedded life at
Greifenstein, between starvation and plenty, extreme poverty and the
state of enjoying all that money could give. It was long before she
could comprehend what had passed in Hilda's mind, or the process of
reasoning by which the young girl had reached such a calm certainty of