nd the sun has bronzed my pink and white
boyish face--in short: my outer man has changed for the worse, but within
I am just the same as I was three years ago."

Maria felt the blood again mounting into her cheeks, but she did not wish
to blush and answered hastily: "Standing still is retrograding, so you
have lost three beautiful years, Herr von Dornburg."

The officer looked at Maria in perplexity, and then said more gravely
than before:

"Your jest is more opportune, than you probably suppose; I had hoped to
find you again in Delft, but powder was short in Alfen, so the Spaniard
will probably reach your native city sooner than we. Now a kind fate
brings me to you here; but let me be honest--What I hope and desire
stands clearly before my eyes, echoes in my soul, and when I thought of
our meeting, I dreamed you would lay both hands in mine and, instead of
greeting me with witty words, ask the old companion of happy hours, your
brother Leonhard's best friend: 'Do you still remember our dead?' And
when I had told you: 'Yes, yes, yes, I have never forgotten him,' then I
thought the mild lustre of your eyes--Oh, oh, how I thank you! The dear
orbs are floating in a mist of tears. You are not so wholly changed as
you supposed, Frau Maria, and if I loyally remember the past, will you
blame me for it?"

"Certainly not," she answered cordially. "And now that you speak to me
so, I will with pleasure again call you Junker Georg, and as Leonhard's
friend and mine, invite you to our house."

"That will be delightful," he cried cordially. "I have so much to ask you
and, as for myself--alas, I wish I had less to tell."

"Have you seen my husband?" asked Maria.

"I know nobody in Leyden," he replied, "except my learned, hospitable
host, and the doge of this miniature Venice, so rich in water and
bridges."

Georg pointed up the stair-case. Maria blushed again as she said:

"Burgomaster Van der Werff is my husband."

The nobleman was silent for a short time, then he said quickly:

"He received me kindly. And the pretty elf up yonder?"

"His child by his first marriage, but now mine also. How do you happen to
call her the elf?"

"Because she looks as if she had been born among white flowers in the
moonlight, and because the afterglow of the sunrise, from which the elves
flee, crimsoned her cheeks when I caught her."

"She has already received the name once," said Maria. "May I take you to
my husband?"

"Not now, Frau