nd, having done so, she leaned back,
stretching out her feet towards the little door in the stove, which he
had opened in order to permit the red embers to give forth their full
heat. He pushed some logs through the aperture, and there was a
delightful crackling and the busy burning of well-dried wood. Then he
left Wilhelmine while he went to forage in the kitchen for food; his old
house-keeper being at the market, or more probably sheltering from the
storm and gossiping in some friendly booth. Wilhelmine reclined in the
comfortable chair and surveyed the room. A number of theological works
lay on the table in the centre of the apartment; and another large table
which stood in the window was covered with papers, closely written sheets
as her sharp eyes observed. The walls were bare and ugly, but the room
had a decided air of comfort; the windows shut out the cold in a manner
unknown in Frau von Graevenitz's dilapidated house; the chair she lay in
was soft; and, above all, it was very warm in the room. She stretched
herself and wondered if, after all, there would not be sufficient
creature comforts to atone for the dullness of life as Frau Mueller.

The pastor returned carrying a dish of cold meat, a loaf of home-baked
bread, and under his arm a large bottle. Pushing some of the theological
books aside, he set down the food on the middle table which he drew up
near the stove beside Wilhelmine. Then again he disappeared to the
kitchen, returning anon with plates, glasses, knives and forks. He placed
himself opposite his guest, and turning his eyes towards the grimy
ceiling, he folded his fat hands and recited a prayer over the victuals.

'O Lord, who hath brought this female into mine house, send a blessing, I
pray thee, upon the food which I set before her!' He paused, then added:
'May this be the first of many meals she shall partake of here in
Christian humility and dutiful affection.' Wilhelmine laughed. At another
time the pastor would have been rebuked sharply for a speech of this
kind; but she was hungry, and it did not suit her to postpone her meal to
the uncertain date of Frau von Graevenitz's dinner. The pastor helped her
liberally to meat, and cut a large slice from the white loaf--a luxury
for Wilhelmine, used to the heavy, sour, black bread, which was provided
in her mother's house. He poured out a copious draught from the black
bottle, and the smell of corn brandy filled the air. Wilhelmine ate
hungrily, and