took to send Sir
Pyramus Kogel, whom he knew by sight, to her. Then commending her to the
care of Fran Dubois, who was directed to gratify every reasonable wish,
he left the room. Meanwhile Barbara desired nothing except rest, but she
studiously refrained from addressing even a word to her new companion.
Besides, there was little time to do so, she was soon sound asleep.

When at the end of two hours she awoke, she found herself lying at full
length upon the bench, while a careful hand had removed her shoes, and
the pillows which had supported her weary back were now under her head.

During her slumber it had grown dark, and a small lamp, whose rays a
handkerchief shielded from her eyes, was standing on the stove in one
corner of the room.

Yet she was alone; but she had scarcely stirred when Frau Dubois appeared
with a maid-servant bearing a candelabrum with lighted candles. The
careful nurse asked in brief but pleasant words whether she felt
stronger, if it would be agreeable to her to have supper served in
fifteen minutes, and if she would allow her to help her.

"Willingly," replied Barbara, very pleasantly surprised. Her companion,
as it were, anticipated her strongest wishes--to satisfy her hunger and
to change her dress.

She must be capable and, moreover, a woman of kindly, delicate feelings,
and it certainly was no fault of hers that she was intrusted with her
guardianship and that she belonged to no higher station in life. She was
only punishing herself by persisting in her silence and, as Frau Dubois
tended her like a watchful mother, though without addressing a single
word to her unasked, Barbara's grateful heart and the satisfaction which
the valet's wife inspired silenced her arrogance.

When an attendant laid the table for only one person, the girl kindly
invited Frau Dubois to dine with her; the former, however, had already
had her meal, but she said that she would be very glad to bear the young
lady company if she desired.

The first long conversation between the two took place at the table.

The pretty face of the native of the Rhine country, with its little snub
nose, which in youth must have lent a touch of gay pertness to the
well-formed features, was still unwrinkled, though Frau Dubois was nearer
fifty than forty. Her gray, nearly white hair, though ill-suited to her
almost youthful features, lent them a peculiar charm, and how brightly
her round, brown eyes still sparkled! The plain gown