ious scrubbing utensils. Next Jan appeared with a large
arm-chair on his head. Bessie ran after the Frieselander, calling:

"Aunt Barbel's grandfather's chair; where will she take her afternoon
nap?"

Henrica had heard the words, and thought first of good old "Babetta," who
could also feel tenderly, then of Maria and the man who was to lodge in
the rooms opposite. Were there not some loose threads still remaining of
the old tie, that had united the burgomaster's wife to the handsome
nobleman? A feeling of dread overpowered her. Poor Meister Peter, poor
Maria!

Was it right to abandon the young wife, who had held out a saving hand in
her distress? Yet how much nearer was her own sister than this stranger!
Each day that she allowed herself to linger in this peaceful asylum,
seemed like a theft from Anna--since she had read in a letter from her to
her husband, the only one the dead man's pouch contained, that she was
ill and sunk in poverty with her child.

Help was needed here, and no one save herself could offer it.

With aid from Barbara and Maria, she packed her clothes. At noon
everything was ready for her departure, and she would not be withheld
from eating in the dining-room with the family. Peter was prevented from
coming to dinner, Henrica took his seat and, under the mask of loud,
forced mirth, concealed the grief and anxieties that filled her heart. At
twilight Maria and the children followed her into her room, and she now
had the harp brought and sang. At first her voice failed to reach many a
note, but as the snow falling from the mountain peaks to the plains at
first slides slowly, then rapidly increases in bulk and power, her tones
gradually gained fulness and irresistible might and, when at last she
rested the harp against the wall and walked to the chair exhausted, Maria
clasped her hand and said with deep emotion:

"Stay with us, Henrica."

"I ought not," replied the girl.

"You are enough for each other. Shall I take you with me, children?"
Adrian lowered his eyes in embarrassment, but Bessie jumped into her lap,
exclaiming.

"Where are you going? Stay with us."

Just at that moment some one knocked at the door, and Peter entered. It
was evident that he brought no good tidings. His request had been
refused. The council had almost unanimously voted an assent to Van
Bronkhorst's proposition, that the young lady, as a relation of prominent
friends of Spain among the Netherland nobility, should b