every evening from Vreneli's hand a bunch of mountain violets for her beloved Tony.

Then she drove the cows again to the milking-place and repeated the task of the morning. But this did not end her day's work. She was busy for hours in the cottage, and moon and stars had long looked down on the slumbering mountain before Vreneli had finished arranging her milk vessels in the dairy, or placed the newly-made cheese to dry, or rolled out her golden butter-pats.

Then after a simple prayer, she lay down on her lowly couch, and when the distant thunder of avalanches broke the silence of the night, and the mountain torrent roared close behind her tiny cottage, Vreneli slept as sweetly as a child, and round her head dreams of love and home hovered on golden wing.

So the weeks flew by, and the day arrived when the butter and cheese which the mountain farm had hitherto produced was to be taken home to the farmhouse. The farmer and Tony were to come to bring it, as the goatherd had told Vreneli yesterday, and her usually dexterous fingers trembled with glad excitement just when it was most needful to show the farmer that he had entrusted his property to capable hands.

At last--how often she had looked impatiently along the path--at last the old farmer came toiling up, and behind him, not Tony, as she expected, but two servants with tall baskets on their backs.

Vreneli was bitterly disappointed, but she controlled herself and walked out calmly to meet her master. In spite of the sunny morning dark clouds lay upon his brow, and it did not clear even when Vreneli took him into the faultless dairy and showed him the rows of large rich cheese and the golden butter. Silently they were laid in the basket, and the servants returned homeward with heavy burdens.

Then Vreneli led the farmer to the meadow where the herds were grazing, and his keen eye told him that the beasts were well fed and cared for. It was a faithful hand to which he had entrusted his property--that he must acknowledge, however unwillingly. "You have done well, Vreneli; see that you go on as you have begun!" he said bluntly. How harsh the words sounded compared with those with which he had sent her to the mountain! Then when he turned to go home, and she politely begged him to taste the fritter that she had prepared for him according to the custom of the country, he refused it, looking all the time so gloomy that Vreneli did not dare to ask for Tony, though her heart throbbed in anxiety and longing. So he left her, 

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