"Then never let me become acquainted with such a world," said the young
maiden, clinging to Paulo's arm. "Let me always remain here in our
solitude, which none but good people can share with us. For Marianne is
good, as also Cecil, your servant; and Carlo--oh, Carlo would give his
life for me. He is not false, like other people; I can confide in him."
"Think you so!" asked Paulo, looking deep into her eyes with a
scrutinizing glance.
She bore his glances with a cheerful and unembarrassed smile, and a
roguish nod of her little head.
"You must certainly wish to paint me again, that you look at me so
earnestly. No, Paulo, I will not sit to you again, you paint me much
too handsome; you make an angel of me, while I am yet only a poor little
thing, who lives but by your mercy, and does not even know her own
name!"
"Angels never have a name, they are only known as angels, and need no
further designation. As there is an Angel Gabriel, so there is an Angel
Natalie!"
"Mocker," said she, laughing, "there are no feminine angels! But now
come, be seated. Here is my guitar, and I will sing you a song for which
Carlo yesterday brought me the melody."
"And the words?" asked Paulo.
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