like a dissolute weakling, to the seductive arts of an immature
kobold? These two, who gave to her, the orphaned vagrant, surrounded by
unbridled recklessness, physical and mental misery, a proof that there
was still in marriage real love and a happiness secure from every
assault, were now, before her eyes, placing themselves on the same plane
with the miserable couples whom she met everywhere. She could not have
expressed her emotions in words, but she vaguely felt that the world
had become poorer, and that henceforth she must think of something more
trivial when she tried to imagine the pure happiness which mortals are
permitted to enjoy. She had seen the blossoms stripped from the scanty
remnant of her faith in truth and goodness, which had begun to bloom
afresh in her heart through the characters of this pair whose marriage
procession she had watched.

Loni had been beckoning a long time; now he waved his gay handkerchief
still more impatiently, and she moved on.

Her lips forced themselves into the customary smile with difficulty.
Tripping forward was an easy matter for one so free from dizziness. She
only carried the pole because it was customary to begin with the least
difficult feats. Yet, while gracefully placing one foot before the
other, she said to herself--safe as she felt--that, while so much
agitated, she would be wiser not to look down again into the depths
below. She did avoid it, and with a swift run gained the end of the rope
without effort, and went up and down it a second time.

While, on reaching the end of her walk, she was chalking her soles
again, the applause which had accompanied her during her dangerous
pilgrimage still rose to her ears, and came-most loudly of all from the
stand where Lienhard sat among the distinguished spectators. He, too,
had clapped his hands lustily, and shouted, "Bravo!" Never had he beheld
any ropedancer display so much grace, strength, and daring. His modest
protegee had become a magnificently developed woman. How could he have
imagined that the unfortunate young creature whom he had saved from
disgrace would show such courage, such rare skill?

He confided his feelings, and the fact that he knew the artist, to his
young neighbour, but she had turned deadly pale and lowered her eyes.
While looking on she had felt as though she herself was in danger of
falling into the depths. Giddiness had seized her, and her heart,
whose tendency to disease had long awakened the