There came a letter from the professor mentioning that Alvan was on one of the kingly Alpine heights in view, and the new blood running through her veins became a torrent.

He there! So near! Could he not be reached?
He had a saying: Two wishes make a will.
The wishes of two lovers, he meant.

A prettier sentence for lovers, and one more intoxicating to them, was never devised.

It chirrups of the dear silly couple.

Well, this was her wish.