oogstraten."

"Pardon me! But if you value my desire, we shall not have seen each
other for the last time, though my double is undoubtedly a different
person from the one I supposed. Farewell till we meet again. You hear,
that calling never ends. You have aroused an interest in your strange
friend, and some other time must tell me more about her. Only this one
question: Can a modest maiden talk of her with you without disgrace?"

"Certainly, if you do not shrink from speaking of a noble lady who had
no other protector than herself."

"And you, don't forget yourself!" cried Henrica, leaving the room.

The musician walked thoughtfully towards home. Was Isabella a relative
of this young girl? He had told Henrica almost all he knew of her
external circumstances, and this perhaps gave the former the same right
to call her an adventuress, that many in Rome had assumed. The word
wounded him, and Henrica's inquiry whether he loved the stranger
disturbed him, and appeared intrusive and unseemly. Yes, he had felt an
ardent love for her; ay, he had suffered deeply because he was no more
to her than a pleasant companion and reliable friend. It had cost him
struggles enough to conceal his feelings, and he knew, that but for the
dread of repulse and scorn, he would have yielded and revealed them to
her. Old wounds in his heart opened afresh, as he recalled the time she
suddenly left Rome without a word of farewell. After barely recovering
from a severe illness, he had returned home pale and dispirited, and
months elapsed ere he could again find genuine pleasure in his art. At
first, the remembrance of her contained nothing save bitterness, but
now, by quiet, persistent effort, he had succeeded, not in attaining
forgetfulness, but in being able to separate painful emotions from
the pure and exquisite joy of remembering her. To-day the old struggle
sought to begin afresh, but he was not disposed to yield, and did not
cease to summon Isabella's image, in all its beauty, before his soul.

Henrica returned to her aunt in a deeply-agitated mood. Was the
adventuress of whom Wilhelm had spoken, the only creature whom she loved
with all the ardor of her passionate soul? Was Isabella her lost sister?
Many incidents were opposed to it, yet it was possible. She tortured
herself with questions, and the less peace her aunt gave her, the more
unendurable her headache became, the more plainly she felt that the
fever, against whose relaxing power