r used this
remedy for headache, and she was a sensible woman. Evening and morning,
and the proper amount of sleep."

Henrica occupied a pretty, tastefully-furnished room. The windows
looked out upon the quiet court-yard, planted with trees, adjoining the
chamois-leather work shops. She was allowed to sit up part of the day
in a cushioned arm-chair, supported by pillows. Her healthy constitution
was rapidly rallying. True, she was still weak, and the headache spoiled
whole days and nights. Maria's gentle and thoughtful nature exerted a
beneficial influence upon her, and she cheerfully welcomed Barbara, with
her fresh face and simple, careful, helpful ways.

When Maria told her about the purchase Adrian had made for her, she was
moved to tears; but to the boy she concealed her grateful emotion under
jesting words, and greeted him with the exclamation:

"Come nearer, my preserver, and give me your hand."

Afterwards, she always called him "my preserver" or, as she liked to
mingle Italian words with her Dutch, "Salvatore" or "Signor Salvatore."
She was particularly fond of giving the people, with whom she
associated, names of her own, and so called Barbara, whose Christian
name she thought frightful, "Babetta," and little slender, pretty
Bessie, whose company she specially enjoyed, "the elf." The
burgomaster's wife only remained "Frau Maria," and when the latter once
jestingly asked the cause of such neglect, Henrica replied that she
suited her name and her name her; had she been called Martha, she would
probably have named her "Maria."

The invalid had passed a pleasant, painless day, and when towards
evening Adrian went to see the English riders and the fragrance of the
blooming lindens and the moonlight found their way through the open
windows of her room, she begged Barbara not to bring a light, and
invited Maria to sit down and talk with her.

From Adrian and Bessie the conversation turned upon their own childhood.
Henrica had grown up among her father's boon companions, amid the
clinking of glasses and hunting-shouts, Maria in a grave burgher
household, and what they told each other seemed like tidings from a
strange world.

"It was easy for you to become the tall, white lily you are now," said
Henrica, "but I must thank the saints, that I came off as well as I
did, for we really grew up like weeds, and if I hadn't had a taste for
singing and the family priest hadn't been such an admirable musician, I
might