t her, and would treasure her image in his heart's core to the
end. True, he must endure the keenest suffering for her sake, but he also
owed her the greatest happiness life had granted him.

The eyes of both were dim, but when he began to talk in the old pathetic
way of the magic of love, which would at last bring together those whom
Heaven destined for one another, she tore herself away, hastily begged
him to say farewell to Fran Hiltner for her, and then went into the hall;
but here Martina overtook the departing guest, threw herself impetuously
into her arms, and whispered the question whether she would permit her to
pay her a visit at Prebrunn when she was with her old marquise, she had
so much, so very much, to tell her.

But the wish, of which her mother was ignorant, remained unfulfilled, for
Barbara, scarcely able to control her voice in her embarrassment,
hurriedly replied that while with the lady in waiting she would no longer
be her own mistress, pressed a hasty kiss upon the innocent child's brow,
released herself from her embrace, and rushed through the door, which
Wolf was holding open for her, into the street.

The former gazed after her with a troubled heart, and, after she was out
of sight, returned to the others. He conscientiously delivered Barbara's
farewell, and the praise which Frau Sabina lavished upon her pleased him
as much as if nothing had come between them. Finally he made an
engagement to see Erasmus Eckhart that evening in his lodgings, and then
went to the Queen of Hungary.

After he had left the Hiltners Frau Sabina bent down to her
mother-in-law's ear--though she had lost her quickness of hearing, she
had retained her sight perfectly--and, raising her voice, told her the
name of the young lady who had just left them. Then she asked if she,
too, did not admire Barbara's beauty, and what she thought of her.

The grandmother nodded, exclaiming in a low tone, "Beautiful,
beautiful--a wonderfully beautiful creature!" Then she gazed thoughtfully
into vacancy, and at last asked whether she had heard correctly that
Jungfrau Blomberg was also a remarkable singer.

Her daughter-in-law eagerly nodded assent to this question.

The aged woman silently bowed her head, but quickly raised it again, and
there was a faint tinge of regret in her voice as she began: "Too much,
certainly too much. Such marvels are rare. But one thing or the other.
For women of her stamp there are only two conditions,