d
tended when a child; but the largest portion of Barbara's earnings
returned to her, for she cut for the former all the garments she needed
to appear among her wealthy relatives and young companions at dances,
musical entertainments, banquets, and excursions to the country. True,
Frau Lerch, who was a childless woman, worked very cheaply for her, and,
when she heard that Barbara had again been the greatest beauty, it
pleased her, and she saw her seed ripening.

What a customer the vain darling, who was very ambitious, promised to
become in the future as the wife of a rich aristocrat! She would
undoubtedly be that. There was absolute guarantee of it in her
marvellously beautiful head, with its abundant golden hair, her
magnificent figure, which--she could not help knowing it--was unequalled
in Ratisbon, and her nightingale voice.

Even old Blomberg, who kept aloof from the meetings of his distinguished
fellow-citizens, but, on the other hand, when his supply of money would
permit, enjoyed a drinking bout at the tavern with men of the sword all
the more, rejoiced to hear his daughter's rare gifts lauded. The use of
the graver was thoroughly distasteful and unsuited to his rank; but even
the most laborious work gained a certain charm for his paternal heart
when, while wiping the perspiration from his brow, he thought of what his
diligence would allow him to devote to the adornment and instruction of
his daughter.

He preferred to be alone at home, and his reserved, eccentric nature had
caused his relatives to shun his house, which doubtless seemed to them
contemptibly small.

Barbara endured this cheerfully, for, though she had many relatives and
acquaintances among the companions of her own age, she possessed no
intimate friend.

As a child, Wolf had been her favourite playmate, but now visits from her
aunts and cousins would only have interrupted her secret work, and
disturbed her practice of singing.

When Wolf entered the house, the captain had just left the chapel. He did
not notice the returning owner, for people must have made their way into
the quiet dwelling. At least he had heard talking in the entry of the
second story, where usually it was even more noiseless than in his
lodgings in the third, since it was tenanted only by old Ursel, who was
now confined to her bed.

Wolf saw Barbara's father, whose height surpassed the stature of ordinary
men by a head, hurrying up the stairs. It was a strange, and,