Gotleib was truly in one of his genial, sunny moods; he seemed to
soar into worlds of light; his expanding heart was filling with the
glory of Heaven. The teachings of his childhood were all brought
forth; he talked of his beloved mother--now an angel of God--told of
the beautiful hope she awakened in his heart concerning the little
maiden created by God for him, when his heart shrunk in such pain
from the isolation her death would leave him in. Then he turned to
the blushing Anna, and said he thought the maiden was now found. She
lifted her love-lighted eyes to his--he clasped her hand and said
softly,
"Thou art mine!"
"I am thine," fell responsive from the maiden's lips; and an
infinite blessedness flowed into the loving, satisfied heart of
Gotleib.
The next day brought with it a new and beautiful joy,--a letter from
the beloved one, conveyed into his hand as he tenderly pressed hers,
at parting. For this his thirsty soul had yearned--for some
expression of the maiden's heart-love that had as yet gleamed upon
him but momentarily from her modest eyes. But alone in his chamber,
with the dear letter before him! Ah, now indeed he was to lift the
veil that hid his life's treasure.
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