“Good heavens—­Herr von Eschenhagen!”

“Do you know the gentleman?” asked Marietta, without any especial interest or surprise, for her grandfather, being the only physician in the region, of course knew every one.

“To be sure I know him.  Babette, take the valise at once.  I beg your pardon, sir.  I did not know that you were acquainted with my granddaughter.”

“Why, we never saw each other before to-day,” explained Marietta.  “But, grandpapa, will you not introduce me to this gentleman?”

“Certainly, my child.  Herr Willibald von Eschenhagen of Burgsdorf—­”

“Toni’s betrothed!” interrupted Marietta delighted.  “O, how comical that we should meet each other for the first time in the mud.  If I had known who it was I would not have treated you so cavalierly, Herr von Eschenhagen.  I let you walk behind me as though you were a veritable porter.  But why didn’t you speak?”

Willibald didn’t speak now, but looked stupidly at the little hand which was extended to him.  He felt he must do or say something, and as it was an impossibility for him to speak, he grasped the little hand in his great, brawny palm and pressed and shook it vigorously.

“Oh!” cried Marietta as she drew back hastily.  “You have a terrible grip, Herr von Eschenhagen.  I believe you have broken my finger.”

Willibald, glowing from embarrassment and mortification, was about to stammer an apology, when the doctor came to his rescue by inviting him to come in.  This invitation he accepted without speaking, and followed his host into the house.  Marietta took the principal part in the conversation.  She gave a very amusing account of her meeting with Willibald.  Now that she knew he was her dear Toni’s lover, she treated him with all the familiarity and freedom of an old friend.  She asked question after question about Toni and the head forester, and her tongue went on without rest or intermission.

To the young man who sat so silent and listened so eagerly, the girl’s pleasant, bird-like chatter was quite bewildering.  He had met the doctor on the previous day at Fuerstenstein and had heard some talk of a certain Marietta who was a friend of his fiancee.  Who or what she was, or from whence she came, he did not know, for Toni had not been very communicative on that occasion.

“And to think of this excited child leaving you standing at the back door, while she came in to play and sing to decoy me from my study,” said Dr. Volkmar shaking his head.  “That was very impolite, Marietta, very impolite indeed.”

The young girl laughed merrily, and shook her short, curly hair.

“O, Herr von Eschenhagen has not taken it amiss.  But as he only heard a bar or two of your favorite song, I think the least I can do is to sing it all for him now.”