and from the hill behind another answered, in rivalry.
Thoma did not hear them. She was struggling with a demon that night.

Thoma was a well-bred farmer's daughter. To be sure she had not had
much training. She had been one of the best scholars in the public
school, and at home she was taught to be diligent and honest; and this
she was. She was proud and imperious like her father, who had indulged
her from her childhood, and, as her mother cared nothing for the
outside world, had been her companion on all sorts of pleasure
excursions. He delighted in her decision of character, and above all
else had encouraged her pride.

A daughter of a neighboring farmer had been Thoma's playmate, but in
reality, her father was her only confidant. It might do for poor people
to fall in love, but Thoma, as became a rich farmer's daughter, had
made up her mind to marry only a rich and influential man of the same
class. Anton, to be sure, was of somewhat lower rank, but still he was
of a good family; and, though not rich, he was sought after by all the
daughters of the country side.

Even a princess is glad to be loved; and certainly no princess was ever
more deeply loved, or received truer homage than Anton gave Thoma.

And now how had it all turned out!

The pride which Landolin had fostered in his child until it had grown
all too powerful, was now turned against him, and against the whole
world.

Thoma clenched her hands. She did not want to be pardoned, or receive
anything as a gift, not even from her lover. "He shall not come and
say, or even hint by his manner--'The honor of your family is lost; you
are the daughter of a murderer; but still I will be good and true to
you.' No--it is over."

As she thought of her father, her hands tightened convulsively. How
could he have done such a thing! Common people, servants and beggars
may now look into her life, discuss it, and pass judgment upon it. They
may be respectful or not as they please. They will act as though she
should be thankful to them for greeting her.

With a rapidity which knows no distance, Thoma's thoughts hastened from
farm-house to farm-house, where the daughters were condemning or
pitying her--her--Thoma; or they were sleeping--_they_ could sleep
peacefully, but Thoma could not sleep.

As when the poison from an adder's fang permeates the body of a strong,
vigorous man; rushes through his veins, maddens him, urging him on, and
at the same time making him pow