It all seemed to Wilhelm and Annette impossible, incredible. Their eyes followed Karl, followed Margaret with an expression which was half joy and half fear. But to Karl and Margaret the new happiness seemed strangely natural, assured. Like a crystal hidden in stone, it had grown, and now that the store had been broken open, and the crystal set free, every ray of the sun that fell on it was multiplied, and the brilliant light seemed only inevitable.
Later in the evening Karl put a ring upon Margaret's finger. It was dark, and she could not see the design.
"Could you promise not to see till the sunlight should come to-morrow?" said Karl. "I would like that the sun should light it up first for your eyes."
Margaret smiled. "Oh, foolish Karl! I will try not to look; but you ask a great deal."
Karl turned the ring round and round on the finger, as Margaret's hand lay in his.
"I have a long time had this ring,—more than one year. It was to be for you if I died, or if you were to be married to" Karl could not now pronounce the words "another man." He went on: "I thought that then you would wear it and not be angry. I not once thought I could put it on for you with my own hand;" and Karl lifted both Margaret's hands, covered them with kisses, laid them against his cheek, on his forehead, on his heart.
