s life. He had remained in
the world; but he had renounced the more honorable post of prefect of the
town-musicians, and taken on him the humble one of organist, in which it
had been granted to him to offer up his great gift of music as it were a
sacrifice to Heaven. This maxim, which had spared the virtuous old man to
the world, made its mark on Ann likewise; and whereas I saw how gladly
she had received the doctrine that happiness should be found in making
others happy, I prayed her to join me in taking it henceforth as the
guiding lamp of our lives. At this she was well pleased; and she went on
to point wherein and how we should henceforth strive to forget ourselves
for our neighbor's sake, with that soaring flight of soul in which I
could scarce follow her but as a child lags after a butterfly or a bird.

Then, when I presently saw that she was in better heart, I took courage,
but in jest, being sure of her refusal, to plead the Magister's suit.
This, however, was as I was departing; I had already stayed and delayed
her over-long, inasmuch as I had yet to array myself for the feast at
Uncle Christian's. But, as I was about to speak; a serving man came in
with a letter written by the kind old man to Ann herself, his "dear
watchman" in which, for the third time, he besought her, with pressing
warmth, not to refuse to go to him on his name day and pledge him in the
loving cup to his health and happiness.

With the help of this tender appeal I made her say she would go; yet she
spoke the words in haste and great agitation.

My uncle's messenger had hindered my suing, so while we hastily looked
through Ann's store of holiday raiment, I brought my pleading for Master
Peter to an end; and what I looked for came, in truth, to pass: without
seeming one whit surprised she steadfastly rejected his suit, saying that
he was the poor, good, faithful Magister, and worthy to win a wife whose
heart was all his own.

At my uncle's house that night, with the exception of certain learned and
reverend gentlemen, Ann alone was not of gentle birth. Yet was she in no
wise the least, neither in demeanor nor in attire; and when I beheld her
in the ante-chamber, all lighted up with wax tapers, in her sky-blue
gown, thanking the master of the house and his sister--who kept house for
him--for their condescension, as she upraised her great eyes with loving
respect, I could have clasped her in my arms in the face of all the
world, and I marvel