o put
forth his hand to clasp her. Albeit she had forthwith set him in his
place, and right sharply, it seemed that to protect herself against his
advances there was no remedy but a complaint to his master, which would
disturb the peace of the household. She was indeed able enough to take
care of herself and to ward off any unseemly boldness on his part;
but she felt her noble purity soiled by contact with that taint of
commonness of which she was conscious in this young fellow's ways, and
in many other daily experiences.

Every meal, with the great dish into which the apprentice dipped his
spoon next to hers, was a misery to her; and when the master's old
mother marked this, and noted also how uneasily she submitted to her
new place and part in life, seeing likewise Ann's tear-stained eyes and
sorrowful countenance, she conceived that all this was by reason that
Ann's pride could hardly bend to endure life in a craftsman's dwelling.
And her heart was turned from her son's step-daughter, whom at first she
had welcomed right kindly; she overlooked her as a rule, or if she
spoke to her, it was in harsh and ungracious tones. This, as Ann saw
its purpose, hurt her all the more, as she saw more clearly that the new
grandmother was a warm-hearted and worthy and right-minded woman, from
whose lips fell many a wise word, while she was as kind to the younger
children as though they had been her own grandchildren. Nay, one had but
to look at her to see that she was made of sound stuff, and had head and
heart both in the right place.

A few hours since Ann had opened her heart to her Father confessor, the
reverend prebendary von Hellfeld; and he had counselled her to take the
veil and win heavenly bliss in a convent as the bride of Christ. And
whereas all she craved was peace, and a refuge from the world wherein
she had suffered so much, and Cousin Maud and I likewise deemed it the
better course for her, she would gladly have followed this good counsel,
but that her late dear father had ever been strongly averse to the life
of the cloister. Self-seeking, he would say, is at the root of all
evil, and he who becomes an alien from this world and its duties to seek
happiness in a convent--inasmuch as that beatitude for which monks and
nuns strive is nothing else than a higher form of happiness, extending
beyond the grave to the very end of all things--may indeed intend to
pursue the highest aim, and yet it is but self-seeking, althou