being tried
on, and had received a shilling and a look from Mr. Tiralla which had
made her blush and lower her dark eyes without knowing the reason why.

Sophia Kluge was modest; no young fellow in the neighbourhood could
boast of being in her good graces. She did not even know why the lads
and lasses used to steal out into the fields in the evenings, and why
their tender songs should rise so plaintively to the starry skies.
Sophia, with the black eyes and white face, which no sun, no country
air had ever tanned, for she had always remained at home with her
mother, was a pious child, so pious that the priest, still a young man
with saint-like face, took a great deal of notice of her. He would send
for this girl of eleven to come to him in his study, which the old
housekeeper only got leave to enter three times a year. There he would
speak to her of the joys of the angels and of the Heavenly Bridegroom,
and enrapture himself and her with descriptions of heaven and of the
streams of love which had flowed through the hearts of all the saints.

Mrs. Kluge was proud of the preference shown to her daughter; but the
salvation of her soul did not make her lose sight of her earthly lot.
She had [Pg 22] suffered many privations in her life, and had had to
give up very much, and she wished her daughter to have some enjoyment
even on this earth. It seemed to her like a sign from the saints that
Mrs. Tiralla was prematurely delivered of a child and died before she
had worn her new dress. Then Mr. Tiralla began to look out for another
wife, and when he came in person to pay the outstanding account for the
dress, the clever woman noticed the complacent smile which he cast at
the young beauty. She was well aware of her daughter's beauty, and knew
how to value it. When Mr. Tiralla said to her, "Your daughter is
devilish good-looking," she had answered, "Ah, but she's still so
young." And when he came once more and said, "_Psia krew_, how sad it
is to live alone on such a dreary farm," the wise woman replied,
"You'll have to marry again. There are plenty of widows and elderly
spinsters who would be pleased to marry you." That had angered him. He
neither wanted widows nor elderly spinsters, he coveted the youngest of
them all.

Sophia had run to the priest and had wept and lamented when her mother
had said to her, "Be happy, Mr. Tiralla wants to marry you." No, she
wouldn't have him, she didn't want to marry at all.

Even now, after