e Netherlands, which the Emperor
Charles also remembered with special affection, but no one had ever thus
transported her to the midst of these flourishing provinces and this
blithesome people.

During the maestro's description her large eyes rested upon his lips as
if spellbound. She, too, must see this Brabant, and, like every newly
awakened longing, this also quickly took possession of her whole nature.
Only in the Netherlands, she thought, could she regain her lost
happiness. But what elevated this idea to a certainty in her mind was not
only the fostering of music, the spectacles and festivals, the
magnificent velvet, the rustling silk, and the gay, varied life, not only
the worthy Appenzelder and the friend at her side, but, far above all
other things, the circumstance that Brussels was the home of the Emperor
Charles, that there, there alone, she might be permitted to see again and
again, at least from a distance, the man whom she hated.

Absorbed in the Netherlands, she forgot to notice the nearest things
which presented themselves to her gaze.

The last hour of the drive had passed with the speed of an arrow, both to
her and her travelling companion, and just as they were close to the left
bank of the Isar, which was flowing toward them, Gombert's old servant
turned and, pointing before him with his outstretched hand, exclaimed,
"Here we are in Landshut!" she perceived that the goal of their journey
was gained.

Barbara was familiar with this flourishing place, above which proudly
towered the Trausnitzburg, for here lived her uncle Wolfgang Lorberer,
who had married her mother's sister, and was a member of the city
Council. Two years before she had spent a whole month as a guest in his
wealthy household, and she intended now to seek shelter there again. Fran
Martha had invited her more than once to come soon, and meanwhile her two
young cousins had grown up.

Two arms of the Isar lay before her, and between them the island of
Zweibrucken.

Before the coach rolled across the first, Barbara gathered her luggage
together and told the postboy where he was to drive. He knew the handsome
Lorberer house, and touched his cap when he heard its owner's name.
Barbara was glad to be brought to her relatives by the famous musician;
she did not wish to appear as though she had dropped from the clouds in
the house of the aunt who was the opposite of her dead mother, a somewhat
narrow-minded, prudish woman, of whom she