Sebastian, on attaining his majority, wrote
from Vienna, begging for his little patrimonial inheritance, which
Master Wacht sent to him correct to the last farthing, receiving in
return a receipt for it drawn up by one of the Vienna courts.

Just the same sort of difference in character as distinguished the
Engelbrechts was noticeable also between Wacht's two daughters, of whom
the elder was called Rettel[6] and the younger Nanni.

It may here be hastily remarked in passing, that, according to the
taste generally prevalent in Bamberg, the Christian name Nanni is the
prettiest and finest a girl can well have. And so, kindly reader, if
you ever ask a pretty child in Bamberg, "What is your name, my little
angel?" the little thing will be sure to cast down her eyes in shy
confusion and tug at her black silk apron, and whisper in friendly
fashion with a slight blush upon her cheeks, "'N! 'N! Nanni, y'r
honour."

Rettel, Wacht's elder daughter, was a fat little thing, with red rosy
cheeks and right friendly black eyes, with which she looked boldly into
the face of the sunshine of life, as it had dawned upon her, without
blinking. In respect of her education and her character she had not
risen a hair's breadth above the sphere of the handicraftsman. She
gossiped with her female relatives and friends, and liked dressing
herself, though in gay colours and without taste; but her own peculiar
element, wherein she "lived and moved, and had her being," was the
kitchen. Nobody's hare-ragout and geese giblets, not even those of the
most experienced cook far and near, ever turned out so tasty as hers;
in the preparation of sauces she was a perfect adept; vegetables, such
as savoy and cauliflower, were dressed by Rettel's cunning hand in a
way that could not be beaten, since she knew in a moment through a
subtle unfailing instinct when there was too much or too little
dripping; and her short cakes put in the shade the most successful
productions of a similar kind at the most sumptuous of church
feasts.[7]

Father Wacht was very well satisfied with his daughter's cooking; and
he once hazarded the opinion that the Prince-bishop could not have more
delicious vermicelli noodles[8] on his table than those which Rettel
made. This remark sank so deeply into the good girl's pleased heart,
that she was preparing to send a huge dish of the said vermicelli
noodles up to the Prince-bishop, and that too on a fast day.
Fortunately Master Wacht g