It had stopped snowing long before, and the farther they went the lighter the drifts became.
They had journeyed in this way for two hours, when Ruth's strength failed, and she stood still with tearful, imploring eyes.

The charcoal-burner saw it, and growled: "Come here, little girl; I'll carry you to the sleigh." "No, let me," Ulrich eagerly interposed.

And Ruth exclaimed: "Yes, you, you shall carry me." Marx grasped her around the waist, lifted her high into the air, and placed her in the boy's arms.

She clasped her hands around his neck, and as he walked on pressed her fresh, cool cheek to his.

It pleased him, and the thought entered his mind that he had been parted from her a long time, and it was delightful to have her again.
His heart swelled more and more; he felt that he would rather have Ruth than everything else in the world, and he drew her towards him as closely as if an invisible hand were already out-stretched to take her from him.
To-day her dear, delicate little face was not pale, but glowed crimson after the long walk through the frosty, winter air.