might find some other home.

To all this my aunt agreed, and presently, when Pernhart came in, clad
in his holiday garb--a goodly man and well fitted for his new dignity,
Aunt Jacoba bid me go look out for Ann. I saw that she desired my
absence that she might deal alone with the mother and son, so I hastily
departed and stayed in the upper chambers with the children till I
caught sight of Ann and her mother coming towards the house. I ran down
to meet them and behold! as we all three went into the guest chamber,
Pernhart was in the act of bending over my aunt's hand to press it to
his lips, and tears were sparkling in his eyes as well as in those of
the women; nay, they were so greatly moved that no one heard the door
open, and the old woman believed herself to be alone with her son as she
cried to my aunt: "Oh wherefor did not Heaven vouchsafe to guide you to
us some years since!"

My aunt only nodded her head in silence, and Dame Magdalen doubtless
took this for assent; but I read more than this in her face, and
something as follows: "We have hurt each other deeply, and I am thankful
that all is past and forgiven; yet, much as I may now esteem you, in the
matter you had so set your heart on I would no more have yielded to-day
than I did at that time."

CHAPTER XVI.

Ann looked right sweetly as she told my aunt that she felt put to shame
by the great loving-kindness which had brought the feeble lady out
through the forest in the bitter winter weather for her sake, and she
kissed the thin, small hand with deep feeling; and even the elder woman
unbent and freely gave vent before her favorite to the full warmth of
her heart, which she was not wont to display. She had told the Pernharts
what were the fears which had brought her into the town, so the chamber
was presently cleared, and the master called away Mistress Giovanna
after that my aunt had expressed her admiration of her rare charms.

As I too was now preparing to retire, which methought but seemly Aunt
Jacoba beckoned me to stay. Ann likewise understood what had brought her
sickly friend to her, and she whispered to me that albeit she was deeply
thankful for the abundant goodness my aunt had ever shown her, yet could
she never swerve from her well-considered purpose. To this I was only
able to reply that on one point at least she must change her mind, for
that I knew for certain that old grand-dame Pernhart loved her truly.
At this she cried out gladly