the grave.

Deep resentment seized upon her, but she soon succeeded in conquering
it; only the question what she had to give her suitor in return for his
loyal love could not be silenced. Yet was it she who summoned him? Did
he not possess the knowledge of everything that might have deterred
another from wooing her? Had she not showed him more than plainly how
ill he had succeeded in gaining her affection? If, nevertheless, he
insisted upon winning her, he must take her as she was, though the
handsome young man would have had a good right to a heart full of
love. Hers, so long as the gouty traitor lived who had ruined her whole
existence, could never belong entirely to another.

Once she had preferred the handsome, stately dancer to all other men.
Might not this admiration of his person be revived? No--oh, no! And it
was fortunate that it was so, for she no longer desired to love--neither
him nor any one else. On the other hand, she resolved to make his
life as pleasant as lay in her power. When what she granted him had
reconciled her father to her, and she was in Brussels, perhaps she
would find strength to treat Pyramus so that he would never repent his
fidelity.

In the afternoon she longed to escape from the close rooms into the
fresh air, and turned her steps toward Prebrunn, in order to see
once more the little castle which to her was so rich in beautiful and
terrible memories.

On the way she met Frau Lerch. The old woman had kept her keenness
of vision and, though Barbara tried to avoid her, the little ex-maid
stopped her and asked scornfully:

"Here in Ratisbon again, sweetheart? How fresh you look after your
severe illness!--yet you're still on shank's mare, instead of in the
gold coach drawn by white horses."

Barbara abruptly turned her back upon her and went home.

As she was passing the Town Hall Pyramus Kogel left it, and she stopped
as he modestly greeted her.

Very distinguished and manly he looked in his glittering armour,
with the red and yellow sash and the rapier with its large, flashing
basket-hilt at his side; yet she said to herself: "Poor, handsome
fellow! How many would be proud to lean on your arm! Why do you care for
one who can never love you, and to whom you will appear insignificant to
the end?"

Then she kindly clasped the hand which he extended, and permitted him to
accompany her home. On the Haidplatz she asked him whether he had read
the letter which he brought from her fat