'At times; when I am very tired. Not often.'

'Alas!' said Fritz.

'Why dost thou sigh?'

'Because I fear my hopes are blighted. I had dreamed that some day perhaps I might find thee, and that thou wouldst be my wife, and live a quiet, stayat-home life with me. And now, I am afraid, thou wilt always like to wander, like all thy people.'

'I do not know myself at times, what I like or wish,' she said, half sadly. But I am glad, very glad to see thee again, Fritz; I knew thou wouldst come some day. Thou didst promise it to me, on the garnet thou gavest me. Shall I return it to thee now?'

'No; continue to keep it for me, and I will promise by it once more to try and meet thee again, and to love thee ever. Beruna, canst thou hold out any hope for me that in future years, when I am a master and able to marry, thou wilt be my wife? Oh, if thou couldst, it would be an incentive to spur me on to work, a joy to anticipate.'

'I dare not promise,' she said, 'lest I could not keep it. I do not myself know if I wish it. I am too young to think of marriage yet. Our woywod settles these things, and who knows if I can give up wandering. Do not press me. Come again.'

She was about to quit him.

'One moment,' he pleaded; 'accident has brought us together to-day; we may not be so fortunate again. Canst thou not write to me sometimes, and tell me where thou art staying? If thou wert near me I would come to thee.'

'I cannot write,' she said; 'I never learnt.' 'Can none among you?'

'Only the woywod, and I could not ask him.' Fritz sighed once more.

His dream of future happi

ness seemed to grow less probable.

'Then promise, at least, to write to me if ever thou hast a chance, Beruna, if not for my own sake, for the sake of the old time when I rescued thee.'

'I promise by the garnet,' she said. 'Good-bye,' and she held out her hand to him. She did not offer to kiss him this time. Then she turned away.

'I must tell thee,' she said, coming back, 'that thy garnet has always been a pleasure to me. I think thou wilt be glad to hear that when people were unkind to us because we were gipsies, it consoled me. I felt as if it were a link that bound me to you other people. Once more, good-bye.'

Fritz returned to his inn with mingled feelings. He had found Beruna again, and had thought her more charming than even his childish fancy had pictured; but he was grieved that she would not promise to be his

bride. And yet she was glad to see me,' he thought. 'She said so; and how can an awkward fellow like me expect to win such a rare creature all in a moment?'

Remonstrating with himself thus, his hopes revived once more, and he fell asleep, trusting that by the next morning he might find Beruna more amenable.

But early as he rose to go to the green, the gipsies had been before him. Their caravan had disappeared in the night, none knew whither. Fritz's time being at an end, he was obliged to go home, instead of being able to follow his inclination of tracking them.

When he got back to his village, he found things changed there also. The grandmother was ailing, his father had hurt his right hand, and was unable to work, and the support of the family had for some time to rest on Fritz's shoulders. Thus he had little time to think of Beruna. Then the grandmother died. Fritz and his father felt her loss sorely; she had taken the place of a mother to the youth from his earliest babyhood.

Meanwhile Fritz worked hard at his trade, trying to satisfy his employer, and hoping soon to take his own standing as master. When that time came at last, Hans Schmidt was very pleased.

'I have only one wish left on earth now, my son,' he said, and that is that thou shouldest bring home a mistress to this house, and that I may yet see my grandchildren about me.'

'I hope thou mayest, father,' was all the youth replied. He thought of Beruna, and wondered if she would ever enter the house as its mistress. He had never heard from her all this time, but his loving thoughts were often with her.

Hans Schmidt's hand grew better. He was able to resume work, and the cares of bread no longer sat so heavily on the young man. There was only himself to provide for now; his father's earnings more than covered his expenses, and Fritz was even able to put money by. He always secretly hoped that some day it might serve as a nest-egg for himself and the little gipsy girl.

In this wise some years went on. Hans often looked at his son inquiringly when he came home from a kirmess ball or a spinning-party.

He wondered if any

of the girls whom his son had met there had made an impression on his heart. But he asked no questions, and his son volunteered no information.

At last one day Fritz received a letter. It was so unheard-of an event that it could not pass unnoticed, and Hans Schmidt naturally inquired as to his son's correspondent.

'I do not know who is the writer,' was his reply; 'it is a dictated letter from Beruna. Thou rememberest her; the little gipsy that I once brought home. She is

very ill, she says dying, and wants to see me again. I wish to go, father; thou wilt not hinder me?'

'Go, in God's name, my son; and mayst thou find the poor child better than thou fearest.'

Fritz went. It was not far; the troop to whom Beruna belonged seemed to have a predilection for these hills. A day's walk brought him thither. He soon found his way to the green where the gipsies' caravan stood.

'Is there among you a young woman named Beruna ?' he asked of an old woman, who came to meet him.

'Ay; Beruna, the wife of our woywod.'

'No, a young girl,' he said.

'There is no young girl among us called so.'

'This Beruna, the wife of your woywod, is she ill?' he faltered.

'Alack the day, sorely ill.'

Fritz turned deadly pale. It was she, after all, perhaps. Can I see her, think you.'

Yes, you can come,'

'I do not know, but I will ask. she said, returning a moment after. 'Beruna left word if a fair young man came he was to see her. It seems she wrote by the doctor for you to come. He has been to see the poor soul, as if his stuff could do the good my incantations can.'

Fritz listened to no more, but walked in the direction