The familiar porch was reached, the familiar knock resounded on the
iron-studded door. Friedel lifted his mother from her horse, and
felt that she was quivering from head to foot, and at the same moment
the light streamed from the open door on the white horse, and the two
young faces, one eager, the other with knit brows and uneasy eyes. A
kind of echo pervaded the house, "She is come! she is come!" and as
one in a dream Christina entered, crossed the well-known hall, looked
up to her uncle and aunt on the stairs, perceived little change on
their countenances, and sank upon her knees, with bowed head and
clasped hands.
"My child! my dear child!" exclaimed her uncle, raising her with one
hand, and crossing her brow in benediction with the other. "Art thou
indeed returned?" and he embraced her tenderly.
"Welcome, fair niece!" said Hausfrau Johanna, more formally. "I am
right glad to greet you here."
"Dear, dear mother!" cried Christina, courting her fond embrace by
gestures of the most eager affection, "how have I longed for this
moment! and, above all, to show you my boys! Herr Uncle, let me
present my sons--my Eberhard, my Friedmund.
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