e a plate of
lard-dumplings and a tumbler full of wine from a cupboard, place them
before her on the table, and compel her to fall to, so that, at any
rate, he might save her from dying of hunger.

"Oh, sir, a thousand thanks; but I am not a bit hungry. I am too put
out to eat, and, at the best of times, I have no more appetite than a
little bird. The little I ever eat at table would never be missed. But
what I should desire more than all the riches in the world would be to
hear a kind word from the mouth of my darling Fanny. Is such a thing
possible? Do you think she would look at her poor mother? Would she be
ashamed at the sight of me? Perhaps she would no longer recognize me, in
such misery as I am, in rags and wretchedness, and so old and haggard.
Might I see her for an instant, if only once? I do not ask to speak to
her, but if I might just see her at a little distance--through a window,
perhaps--just catch a peep at her surreptitiously, see her pass before
me, hear her speaking to some one else---- Oh, then, all my desires
would be satisfied!"

Master Boltay was quite touched by these words, though it did occur to
him that he had witnessed a somewhat similar scene in some German
tragedy.

"Come, come," said he to the weeping mother, "don't take on so! You
shall assuredly have your wish. You shall both see your daughter and
speak to her. You shall live here too, if you like. It will be very nice
for us to all live together, and will do no harm, that I can see."

"Oh, sir, you speak like an angel from heaven. But my daughter? Oh, my
daughter! She will not be able to love me any more. She will loathe me."

"Make your mind easy on that score, madam. Nobody has ever disparaged
you in your daughter's hearing; and Fanny is much too generous to spurn
her mother in adversity. I'll take you home with me, for I have sent her
into the country to be out of harm's way. There she lives with a
kinswoman of her father's--a somewhat severe personage, I admit; but
I'll reconcile her to you."

"Oh, sir, I don't expect that Teresa will raise me up to her level, but
I shall be content to be her servant, her kitchen-wench, if only my
daughter be about me."

"What nonsense you are talking, my worthy woman!" blurted out honest
Boltay, awkwardly. "I've servants enough of my own, so there's no need
for my ward to do manual labour. In half an hour we will set out
together, and just leave the rest to me."

Mrs. Meyer would thereupo