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"I am afraid you are very tired, my friend?" she asked softly, "or your
head aches,--and you suffer?"
He caught her hands swiftly and raised them to his lips.
"Would you care much,--would you care at all, if I suffered?" he
murmured in a low tone.
Then before she could speak or move, he let go her hands again, and
turned with his usual easy courtesy to Gueldmar. "Then we may expect you
without fail to-morrow, sir! Good night!"
"Good night, my lad!"
And with many hearty salutations the young men took their departure,
raising their hats to Thelma as they turned down the winding path to the
shore. She remained standing near her father,--and, when the sound of
their footsteps had died away, she drew closer still and laid her head
against his breast.
"Cold, my bird?" queried the old man. "Why, thou art shivering,
child!--and yet the sunshine is as warm as wine. What ails thee?"
"Nothing, father!" And she raised her eyes, glowing and brilliant as
stars. "Tell me,--do you think often of my mother now!"
"Often!" And Gueldmar's fine resolute face grew sad and tender.


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