ented to die. Her utmost hope, the
extent of her wishes, had been to escape from the extremity of misery
to which she had been doomed. She had thought often, she said, as she
had been making that journey, that her strength would not serve her
to reach the house of her relative. "God," she said, "had been very
good to her, and she was now contented to go."

Madame Staubach arrived at Cologne four days after her niece, and was
also welcomed at her brother's house. But the welcome accorded to
her was not that which had been given to Linda. "She has been driven
very nearly to death's door among you," said the one aunt to the
other. To Linda Madame Staubach was willing to own that she had been
wrong, but she could make no such acknowledgment to the wife of her
half-brother,--to a benighted Papist. "I have endeavoured to do my
duty by my niece," said Madame Staubach, "asking the Lord daily to
show me the way." "Pshaw!" said the other woman. "Your always asking
the way, and never knowing it, will end in her death. She will have
been murdered by your prayers." This was very terrible, but for
Linda's sake it was borne.

There was nothing of reproach either from Linda to her aunt or from
Madame Staubach to her niece, nor was the name of Peter Steinmarc
mentioned between them for many days. It was, indeed, mentioned but
once again by poor Linda Tressel. For some weeks, for nearly a month,
they all remained in the house of Herr Gruener, and then Linda was
removed to apartments in Cologne, in which all her earthly troubles
were brought to a close. She never saw Nuremberg again, or Tetchen,
who had been faithful at least to her, nor did she ever even ask the
fate of Ludovic Valcarm. His name Madame Staubach never dared to
mention; and Linda was silent, thinking always that it was a name of
offence. But when she had been told that she must die,--that her days
were indeed numbered, and that no return to Nuremberg was possible
for her,--she did speak a word of Peter Steinmarc. "Tell him, aunt
Charlotte, from me," she said, "that I prayed for him when I was
dying, and that I forgave him. You know, aunt Charlotte, it was
impossible that I should marry him. A woman must not marry a man whom
she does not love." Madame Staubach did not venture to say a word
in her own justification. She did not dare even to recur to the old
tenets of her fierce religion, while Linda still lived. She was
cowed, and contented herself with the offices of a nu