'People always do when they are married. We will go to Italy, if you
like, or anywhere else.'

'But why must we go away?' asked Hilda anxiously. 'Do you think we
shall not be as happy here as anywhere else? Oh, I could not live out
of the dear forest!'

'But, sweetheart, you have never seen a town, nor anything of the
world. Would you not care to know what it is all like beyond the
trees?'

'By and by--yes, I would like to see it all. But I would like poor old
Sigmundskron to see how happy we shall be. I think the grey towers will
almost seem to laugh on that day, and the big firs--they saw my great-
grandfather's wedding, Greif! I would rather stay in the old place, for
a little while. And, after all, you have travelled so much, that you
can tell me about Italy by the fire in the long evenings, and I shall
enjoy it quite as much because you will be always with me.'

'Thank you, darling,' said Greif tenderly, as he drew her cheek to his,
and he said no more about the wedding trip on that afternoon.

The shadows were beginning to lengthen and the cool breeze was
beginning to float down the valley, towards the heated plain far away,
when Hilda and Greif rose from their seat under the shadow of the
Hunger-Thurm, and strolled slowly along the broad road that led into
the forest beyond. Whatever feeling of unpleasantness had been roused
by Greif's unlucky speech, had entirely disappeared, but the discussion
had left its impress far in the depths of Hilda's heart. It had never
occurred to her in her whole life before that any one, and especially