forest, lonely and dreaming, as is his wont. His friends in air and water have also gone to rest; all is again peaceful and orderly around us, and thou mayest travel homewards, when thou wilt, dryshod."
Now to Huldbrand it seemed that he was in some waking dream, and little enough could he understand the strange kindred of his wife. Nathless, he made no comment on the matter, and the exquisite grace of Undine soon lulled to rest every uneasy misgiving. When, after some space of time, he stood with her before the door, and looked over the green peninsula with its boundary of clear waters, he felt so happy in this cradle of his love that he could not forbear to say:–
"Why must we needs travel to-day? Rarely enough shall we find happier days in the world yonder than those we have spent in this quiet shelter. Nay, but let us see the sun go down here, twice or thrice more!"
"As my lord willeth," said Undine, humbly. "It is only that the old people will in any case part from me with pain, and when they now for the first time discern the true soul within me, and know how heartily I can love and honour them, methinks their aged eyes will be dimmed with many tears. At present they still hold my quietness and gentleness for nothing better than what they were once–the calm of the lake when the air is still; and, as matters now are, they will full soon learn to cherish a flower or a tree as they
