The Home in the Valley | Page 3

sat, with her eyes fixed mournfully upon the distant object which was the roof of an elegant house, which was barely visible over the brow of a hill, she was startled by the noise of approaching footsteps. She had scarcely cast her mantle over her white shoulders, which she had uncovered during her ablutions, when, to her great astonishment, she discovered a stranger rapidly approaching towards her. He was clothed in a light frock coat; a knapsack was fastened upon his shoulders, and in his hand he swung a knotted stick. Nanna had never before beheld a personage who resembled the stranger. His face, browned in the sun, until it resembled that of a gipsy, wore an honest and frank expression, and his dark curling hair, which fell in thick clusters from his black felt hat, added to the pleasing aspect of his countenance.
Nanna, who at her first glance at the youth, had thought him a gipsy, which wild tribe she greatly feared, was reassured by a second look.
The stranger, on his side, appeared greatly astonished at the sudden appearance of the beautiful water nymph, for such a goddess Nanna much resembled, as she stood, with her garments flowing gracefully around her slight figure; her tiny white feet playing with the moist grass, and her pale and mournful face, encircled with golden locks, that fell negligently upon her white and well rounded shoulders.
The youth thus addressed her:
"Pardon me, lovely naiad. It appears that I have taken the wrong path, although I supposed that I had chosen the right direction."
"Whither are you going?" inquired Nanna, in a voice sweet and melodious.
"To Almvik," replied the stranger.
"Alas!" said the maid, casting a peculiar glance at his knapsack, "I hoped that you were not a member of the aristocracy."
"Oh, my little sylph, for I know not what else to call you, is my face so poor a recommendation, that I cannot be considered a man because I carry a pack on my back?"
"Are those of noble birth the only men?" inquired Nanna, and a gloomy expression fell upon her lips, which a moment before had been illumined with a sunny smile.
"Ah," replied the youth, "the longer I gaze upon your dear face, the more I esteem you. Far be it from me to wound your sensitive nature. If it will comfort you, I will say that no man can long more earnestly than I do for the time when all mankind shall be equal."
"Do you speak from your heart?"
"I do, earnestly; but tell me your name."
"Nanna, Nanna of the Valley, I am called."
"That is poetical; but have you no other name?"
"I am sometimes called Mademoiselle Nanna; but that grieves me, for we are poor people."
"Ah! I thought that you were something more than a peasant girl. Pardon me, I have spoken too familiarly. I knew not your station."
"Familiarly!"
"I addressed you too warmly."
"Your words sounded well when you thus spoke."
"Possibly; but henceforth I shall address you as Mademoiselle Nanna."
"Shall we then see each other again?"
"Yes, yes, quite probably--we are to be neighbors."
"You intend, then, to reside at Almvik?"
"Yes, for a few weeks, perhaps during the whole summer; but I pray you come with me a few steps on my road, I need your guidance."
Nanna sprang to her feet, and as she stood before the young man, her eyes sparkling with unusual brilliancy, her garments falling in graceful folds over her sylph-like limbs, he gazed at her as if enchained by her almost superhuman beauty. To the youthful stranger's request she answered by putting her little white feet in such active motion, that they seemed to tread upon the air instead of the green sward.
CHAPTER II.
THE COTTAGE.
The interior of the little building to which we now turn, was thus arranged: The ground floor was divided into a kitchen and three other apartments, viz:--a middle sized room, by favor called the parlor, in which was generally the dwelling place of the family, and a small chamber on either side of the parlor. One of these was the bed-chamber of Carl Lonner, and the other was occupied by his eldest son and his wife.
The upper story, that is, the attic, contained two divisions, and the sole dominion of these airy apartments was granted to two younger members of the family; the front room belonging to Nanna, and the other to her brother Carl, known in the neighborhood by the nick-name of "Wiseacre," and under certain circumstances as "Crazy Carl," although it would have been difficult to find throughout the entire neighborhood a personage wiser than honest Carl.
Throughout the entire building the marks of poverty were plainly evident; but at the same time each object presented a tidy and cleanly appearance and although the cottage lacked many luxuries, still comfort seemed to reign supreme. The rush covered floor; the