yed daughter, who, since
old Ursel's illness, had done the rough work in the chambers and kitchen,
waked her, she speedily changed her mind. It was hard to rise early after
the day's ironing and the late hour at which she had retired, and,
besides, when Barbara returned from mass, the maid reported that Frau
Lerch had been there and left the message that Fran Itzenweck wanted the
laces which had been promised to her early that day.

So Barbara was obliged to go to work again immediately after the early
breakfast. But, while she was loosening the laces from the pins and
stirring her slender white fingers busily for the wretched pittance, her
soul was overflowing with thoughts of the most sublime works of music,
and the desire for success, homage, and a future filled with happiness
and splendour.

Vehement repugnance to the humble labour to which necessity forced her
was like a bitter taste in her mouth, and, ere she had folded the last
strips of lace, she turned her back to the work-table and pressed both
hands upon her bosom, while from the inmost depths of her tortured soul
came the cry: "I will never bear it! In one way or another I will put an
end to this life of beggary."

Thanks to old Ursel's care, Wolf had found his bed made and everything he
needed at hand in his foster parents' deserted lodging. To avoid
disturbing the sick woman, he removed his shoes in the entry, and then
glided into his former little room. Weariness had soon closed his eyes
also, but only for a few hours. His fevered blood, fear, and hope drove
him from his couch at the first dawn of morning.

Ere returning to the two men the evening before, Barbara had hastily
spoken to Ursula, and brought her whatever she preferred to receive from
her hands rather than those of the one-eyed maid who spent the night with
her--her Sunday cap and a little sealed package which she kept in her
chest. When Wolf tapped at her door early the next morning, she was
already up, and had had her cap put on. This was intended to give her a
holiday appearance, but the expression of her faithful eyes and the smile
upon her sunken mouth showed her darling that his return was a festival
to her.

The stroke of apoplexy which had attacked the woman of seventy had been
slight, and merely affected her speech a little. But she found plenty of
words to show Wolf how happy it made her to see him again, and to tell
him about his foster parents' last illness and death.

The p