ladies; but Babette did not wish to make fun of them, for she knew there
must be some good, excellent people amongst them; she, herself, had a
godmother, who was a high-born English lady. Eighteen years before, when
Babette was christened, this lady was staying at Bex, and she stood
godmother for her, and gave her the valuable brooch she now wore in her
bosom.
Her godmother had twice written to her, and this year she was expected
to visit Interlachen with her two daughters; “but they are old-maids,” added
Babette, who was only eighteen: “they are nearly thirty.” Her sweet little
mouth was never still a moment, and all that she said sounded in Rudy’s
ears as matters of the greatest importance, and at last he told her what he
was longing to tell. How often he had been at Bex, how well he knew the
mill, and how often he had seen Babette, when most likely she had not
noticed him; and lastly, that full of many thoughts which he could not tell
her, he had been to the mill on the evening when she and her father has
started on their long journey, but not too far for him to find a way to
overtake them. He told her all this, and a great deal more; he told her how
much he could endure for her; and that it was to see her, and not the
shooting-match, which had brought him to Interlachen. Babette became
quite silent after hearing all this; it was almost too much, and it troubled her.
And while they thus wandered on, the sun sunk behind the lofty
mountains. The Jungfrau stood out in brightness and splendor, as a back-
ground to the green woods of the surrounding hills. Every one stood still to
look at the beautiful sight, Rudy and Babette among them.
“Nothing can be more beautiful than this,” said Babette.
“Nothing!” replied Rudy, looking at Babette.
“To-morrow I must return home,” remarked Rudy a few minutes
afterwards.
“Come and visit us at Bex,” whispered Babette; “my father will be
pleased to see you.”
V. On the Way Home
