yet
entered into Herr von Tausdorf's head to be a suitor for my hand."

"So, then, I have again missed my aim! That you will never make me
believe. It is only a sort of feint, that your womanly affectation
would yet use as a parting farewell. Strike at the very core of it with
your good sword, Tausdorf; I will be your faithful brother in arms."

"I could only accuse myself, if I had not understood this noble heart,"
said the knight tenderly, kissing Althea's hand. "But this letter of my
father's will show you that I have understood it, my dear friend;
still, I owed it to your repose and my honour to shut up the ardent
longing in my own breast, until every barrier was forced that lay in
the path of my happiness. That is done. The weightiest obstacle was the
difference of our creeds: but rational arguments and filial entreaties
have subdued my father's strictness of belief, and he now participates
in my wishes, and sends us his paternal blessing."

With trembling hand Althea took the letter and read it, while her eyes
sparkled with joy.

"Strange that the old gentleman should make objections for a little
difference in religion!" said Netz: "Why, if Althea cared about
priestly feuds, she might with better reason object to your Utraquism.
But I see it well, it is in this case just as if a fair maiden were
smitten with a Moor. Love levels all, and before him there is neither
creed nor complexion."

"The Moor returns his thanks," replied Tausdorf laughing, and followed
Althea to the window, where she stood with folded hands in deep
thought.

"Have I understood your heart?" he asked gently and tenderly.

"Only too well," she murmured; "and yet in this decisive moment an
anxious doubt falls on me, whether I do right in listening to it, and
whether it is compatible with my duties towards my child."

"Fire and fury, sister!" shouted Netz, impatiently, "I believe you are
still coquetting it: by my faith! even the best women can't leave that
alone. I fancy when you one day come to the gates of heaven, you'll
stand courtesying to St. Peter, and protesting that you don't think it
polite to enter, till he hales you in by force. What new difficulty
have you been spinning and weaving on the instant?"

"My little Henry," lisped Althea, with downcast eyes.

"Whose interest, you think, is against this marriage?" said Netz,
laughing: "Now that, in good truth, is a little out of reason, for to
me it seems as if it would exactly t