ainst this woman's
husband, through whom she had experienced bitter suffering, for many
years. His much-lauded wife herself was a stranger to her, yet she could
not think of her except with secret dislike; it seemed as if a woman who
bore the separation from the man she loved so patiently, and yet won all
hearts, must go through life--unless she was a hypocrite--with cold fish
blood.

Besides----

What right had this lady to the boy to whom Barbara gave birth, whose
love would now be hers had it not been wrested from her? What was denied
to her would be lavished upon this favoured woman, and when she bestowed
gifts upon the glorious child for whom every pulse of her being longed,
and repaid his love with love, it was regarded as a fresh proof of her
noble kindness of heart. To withhold from this woman something which
would give her fresh happiness and relieve her of sorrow might have
afforded her a certain satisfaction. To bless those who curse and
despitefully use us was certainly the hardest command; but on the
priedieu she vowed to the Virgin to fulfil it, and in a calmer mood than
before she bent over the boys to kiss them.

The next day glided by in painful anxiety, for Wolf did not return. The
following morning and afternoon also passed without bringing him. Not
until the rays of the setting sun were forcing their way through
the pinks and rose bushes with which Pyramus kept her window adorned
throughout the year, because she loved flowers, and the vesper bells
were chiming, did her friend return.

This time she had dressed her boys with her own hands, and when, through
the door which separated her from the entry, she heard Wolf greet them
with merry words, her heart grew lighter, and the swift thanksgiving
which she uttered blended with the dying notes of the bells.

Leading Conrad by the hand, and carrying the three-year-old youngest boy
in his arms, Wolf entered the room.

The child of a former love easily wins its way to the heart of the
man who has been obliged to resign her. Wolf's eyes showed that he was
pleased with Barbara's merry lads, and she thanked him for it by the
warmest reception.

Not until after he had said many a pleasant word to her about the little
boys, and jested with them in the manner of one who loves children, did
he resume his grave manner and confess that he could not make up his
mind to leave Barbara without a farewell. He was glad to find her in
the possession of such treasu