a dressmaker for the most aristocratic women in Ratisbon, privately
obtained this employment. It was partly from affection for the young
lady whom she had tended when a child; but the largest portion of
Barbara's earnings returned to her, for she cut for the former all the
garments she needed to appear among her wealthy relatives and young
companions at dances, musical entertainments, banquets, and excursions
to the country. True, Frau Lerch, who was a childless woman, worked very
cheaply for her, and, when she heard that Barbara had again been the
greatest beauty, it pleased her, and she saw her seed ripening.

What a customer the vain darling, who was very ambitious, promised
to become in the future as the wife of a rich aristocrat! She would
undoubtedly be that. There was absolute guarantee of it in her
marvellously beautiful head, with its abundant golden hair, her
magnificent figure, which--she could not help knowing it--was unequalled
in Ratisbon, and her nightingale voice.

Even old Blomberg, who kept aloof from the meetings of his distinguished
fellow-citizens, but, on the other hand, when his supply of money would
permit, enjoyed a drinking bout at the tavern with men of the sword all
the more, rejoiced to hear his daughter's rare gifts lauded. The use of
the graver was thoroughly distasteful and unsuited to his rank; but even
the most laborious work gained a certain charm for his paternal heart
when, while wiping the perspiration from his brow, he thought of what
his diligence would allow him to devote to the adornment and instruction
of his daughter.

He preferred to be alone at home, and his reserved, eccentric nature had
caused his relatives to shun his house, which doubtless seemed to them
contemptibly small.

Barbara endured this cheerfully, for, though she had many relatives
and acquaintances among the companions of her own age, she possessed no
intimate friend.

As a child, Wolf had been her favourite playmate, but now visits from
her aunts and cousins would only have interrupted her secret work, and
disturbed her practice of singing.

When Wolf entered the house, the captain had just left the chapel. He
did not notice the returning owner, for people must have made their way
into the quiet dwelling. At least he had heard talking in the entry of
the second story, where usually it was even more noiseless than in his
lodgings in the third, since it was tenanted only by old Ursel, who was
now confi