r daughter scorned his suit; yet that
sank not deep, inasmuch as it was for the sake of a Junker of high
degree. With Ann he might hope for better luck; for although from the
first she gave him to wit that he pleased her not, he did not therefore
leave her in peace, and this very morning, finding her alone in the hall,
he had made so bold as to put forth his hand to clasp her. Albeit she had
forthwith set him in his place, and right sharply, it seemed that to
protect herself against his advances there was no remedy but a complaint
to his master, which would disturb the peace of the household. She was
indeed able enough to take care of herself and to ward off any unseemly
boldness on his part; but she felt her noble purity soiled by contact
with that taint of commonness of which she was conscious in this young
fellow's ways, and in many other daily experiences.

Every meal, with the great dish into which the apprentice dipped his
spoon next to hers, was a misery to her; and when the master's old mother
marked this, and noted also how uneasily she submitted to her new place
and part in life, seeing likewise Ann's tear-stained eyes and sorrowful
countenance, she conceived that all this was by reason that Ann's pride
could hardly bend to endure life in a craftsman's dwelling. And her heart
was turned from her son's step-daughter, whom at first she had welcomed
right kindly; she overlooked her as a rule, or if she spoke to her, it
was in harsh and ungracious tones. This, as Ann saw its purpose, hurt her
all the more, as she saw more clearly that the new grandmother was a
warm-hearted and worthy and right-minded woman, from whose lips fell many
a wise word, while she was as kind to the younger children as though they
had been her own grandchildren. Nay, one had but to look at her to see
that she was made of sound stuff, and had head and heart both in the
right place.

A few hours since Ann had opened her heart to her Father confessor, the
reverend prebendary von Hellfeld; and he had counselled her to take the
veil and win heavenly bliss in a convent as the bride of Christ. And
whereas all she craved was peace, and a refuge from the world wherein she
had suffered so much, and Cousin Maud and I likewise deemed it the better
course for her, she would gladly have followed this good counsel, but
that her late dear father had ever been strongly averse to the life of
the cloister. Self-seeking, he would say, is at the root of all ev