e any little
prejudice of her girlhood. Other men of fifty had married girls
of twenty, and why should not he, Peter Steinmarc, the well-to-do,
comfortable, and, considering his age, good-looking town-clerk of the
city of Nuremberg? He could not bring himself to tell Madame Staubach
that he would transfer his affections to her niece on that occasion
on which the question was first asked. He would take a week, he said,
to consider. He took the week; but made up his mind on the first day
of the week, and at the end of the week declared to Madame Staubach
that he thought the plan to be a good plan.

After that there was much discussion before any further step was
taken, and Tetchen was quite sure that their lodger was to be married
to Linda's aunt. There was much discussion, and the widow, shocked,
perhaps, at her own cruelty, almost retreated from the offer she had
made. But Herr Steinmarc was emboldened, and was now eager, and held
her to her own plan. It was a good plan, and he was ready. He found
that he could love the maiden, and he wished to take her to his bosom
at once. For a few days the widow's heart relented; for a few days
there came across her breast a frail, foolish, human idea of love
and passion, and the earthly joy of two young beings, happy in
each other's arms. For a while she thought with regret of what she
was about to do, of the sacrifice to be made, of the sorrow to be
endured, of the deathblow to be given to those dreams of love, which
doubtless had arisen, though hitherto they were no more than dreams.
Madame Staubach, though she was now a saint, had been once a woman,
and knew as well as any woman of what nature are the dreams of love
which fill the heart of a girl. It was because she knew them so well,
that she allowed herself only a few hours of such weakness. What!
should she hesitate between heaven and hell, between God and devil,
between this world and the next, between sacrifice of time and
sacrifice of eternity, when the disposal of her own niece, her own
child, her nearest and dearest, was concerned? Was it not fit that
the world should be crushed in the bosom of a young girl? and how
could it be crushed so effectually as by marrying her to an old man,
one whom she respected, but who was otherwise distasteful to her--one
who, as a husband, would at first be abhorrent to her? As Madame
Staubach thought of heaven then, a girl who loved and was allowed to
indulge her love could hardly go to