When the morning came, Gotleib awakened with a delicious sense of
enjoyment in life--with a looking forth into the events of the day,
that he had never before experienced. He hastened through his
morning duties with an elasticity of spirit and hope that was
altogether new to him. Though, as yet, his feeling was not defined
into a thought, it was a faint perception, a dim consciousness that
the elective affinities of his heart had all awakened. And while he
thought he was in an excessive anxiety to see after his feeble
patient, he was borne on rather by the attractions of his heart's
love. He paused in a thrilling excitement of hope and doubt before
the door of the poor chamber--he dreaded to have the agreeable
impressions of the last evening dissipated. But, when he knocked, a
light tread was heard; the door was gently opened, and the pale Anna
stood before him, with such a gentle grace, and so earnest a look of
gratified expectation, that, as she said in subdued tones,
"I hoped it was you," his heart bounded with exultation, to think
that the young girl had him in her thoughts. But, as he approached
the sick bed, his reason told him what was more natural than her
wishing for the arrival of her mother's physician.
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