he take her afternoon
nap?"

Henrica had heard the words, and thought first of good old "Babetta,"
who could also feel tenderly, then of Maria and the man who was to lodge
in the rooms opposite. Were there not some loose threads still remaining
of the old tie, that had united the burgomaster's wife to the handsome
nobleman? A feeling of dread overpowered her. Poor Meister Peter, poor
Maria!

Was it right to abandon the young wife, who had held out a saving
hand in her distress? Yet how much nearer was her own sister than this
stranger! Each day that she allowed herself to linger in this peaceful
asylum, seemed like a theft from Anna--since she had read in a letter
from her to her husband, the only one the dead man's pouch contained,
that she was ill and sunk in poverty with her child.

Help was needed here, and no one save herself could offer it.

With aid from Barbara and Maria, she packed her clothes. At noon
everything was ready for her departure, and she would not be withheld
from eating in the dining-room with the family. Peter was prevented from
coming to dinner, Henrica took his seat and, under the mask of loud,
forced mirth, concealed the grief and anxieties that filled her heart.
At twilight Maria and the children followed her into her room, and she
now had the harp brought and sang. At first her voice failed to reach
many a note, but as the snow falling from the mountain peaks to the
plains at first slides slowly, then rapidly increases in bulk and power,
her tones gradually gained fulness and irresistible might and, when
at last she rested the harp against the wall and walked to the chair
exhausted, Maria clasped her hand and said with deep emotion:

"Stay with us, Henrica."

"I ought not," replied the girl.

"You are enough for each other. Shall I take you with me, children?"
Adrian lowered his eyes in embarrassment, but Bessie jumped into her
lap, exclaiming.

"Where are you going? Stay with us."

Just at that moment some one knocked at the door, and Peter entered.
It was evident that he brought no good tidings. His request had been
refused. The council had almost unanimously voted an assent to Van
Bronkhorst's proposition, that the young lady, as a relation of
prominent friends of Spain among the Netherland nobility, should be kept
in the city. Peter's representations were unheeded; he now frankly told
Henrica what a conflict he had had, and entreated her to have patience
and be content to rema