and
dishevelled, but it was that her condition should have been such
without the company of any elder female friend whose presence would
have said, "This young woman is respectable, even though her dress be
soiled with dust and meal." As it was, the friend by her side was one
who by his very appearance would condemn her. No one would suppose
her to be his wife. And then the worst of it was that he also would
judge her as others judged her. He also would say to himself that no
one would suppose such a woman to be his wife. And if once he should
learn so to think of her, how could she expect that he would ever
persuade himself to become her husband? How she wished that she had
remained beneath her aunt's roof! It now occurred to her, as though
for the first time, that no one could have forced her to go to church
on that thirtieth of January and become Peter Steinmarc's wife. Why
had she not remained at home and simply told her aunt that the thing
was impossible?

At last they were within an hour of Augsburg, and even yet she knew
nothing as to his future plans. It was very odd that he should not
have told her what they were to do at Augsburg. He said that she
should be his queen, that she should be as happy as the day was long,
that everything would be right as soon as they reached Augsburg; but
now they were all but at Augsburg, and she did not as yet know what
first step they were to take when they reached the town. She had much
wished that he would speak without being questioned, but at last she
thought that she was bound to question him. "Ludovic, where are we
going to at Augsburg?"

"To the Black Bear first. That will be best at first."

"Is it an inn?"

"Yes, dear; not a great big house like the Rothe Ross at Nuremberg,
but very quiet and retired, in a back street."

"Do they expect us?"

"Well, no; not exactly. But that won't matter."

"And how long shall we stay there?"

"Ah! that must depend on tidings from Berlin and Munich. It may be
that we shall be compelled to get away from Bavaria altogether." Then
he paused for a moment, while she was thinking what other question
she could ask. "By the by," he said, "my father is in Augsburg."

She had heard of his father as a man altogether worthless, one ever
in difficulties, who would never work, who had never seemed to wish
to be respectable. When the great sins of Ludovic's father had been
magnified to her by Madame Staubach and by Peter, with certain wise