ght have damaged him in Erastus' opinion; but no
one would believe that explanation. For the time it was true the
Kurfuerst stuck faithfully to his Counsellor, but the latter knew well,
how eagerly from all sides he was being maligned to his dull Sovereign.
Oppressed by such cares Erastus had little time to trouble himself
about his child. Lydia sat dreaming and alone at her work, she was
right--she needed a mother's care. At times she went to the house of
the Huguenot and was ever received kindly by Frau Belier, as the good
woman was very glad to listen to something other than the strict
doctrines considered fundamental by her calvinistic husband, but the
chattering which accompanied the good lady's love and care, oppressed
the silent thoughtful child, besides this the pet bird was an object of
horror to her, which shrieked with screeching voice the name which
contained all her joys and all her sorrows, and which the moment it had
got this name well out, shook its feathers with satisfaction and added
_filou_ (rogue). Sometimes she met Felix there, who amused her after a
manner by his jokes, who praised her beauty, and offered himself to her
as _cavaliere servente_. That pleased her, as she sometimes ventured
upon a side look at the shapely figure of the artist. Then she thought
how much more imposing and handsome was the grave Magister. But she
never repeated her confessions to Dame Belier. Speaking of her grief
had only proved to be a poor means of stifling it. Her foolish heart
found therein a basis for examining her connection with the Magister in
all its bearings, and the more sharply the volatile little woman abused
Paolo, so much the more did her own kind heart feel disposed to excuse
the man so violently attacked. She, who believed in the melioration of
wasps and therefore helped them out of her father's wineglass, and in
the thankful disposition of sparrows, with whom she shared her
breakfast, how could she give up the handsome clever teacher as
entirely lost to her? In fact what had the young clergyman done that
was so bad? Kissed her; she herself ought not to have permitted this,
and the accusation of the imprisoned clergymen, that he had betrayed
them, had never been proved. The real truth was that since the fiery
Neapolitan had kissed her she had become sick at heart. She felt
herself as if drawn by strong ties to the Stift. One day that her
father had gone to attend one of those endless Church meetings, from