to her son how
Eleanore had brought the child to Eschenbach, and how Meta had married
and gone to America with her husband.

Every look, every movement on the part of Marian showed how great her
love for the child was: she guarded it as the apple of her eye.

The circle of wonderful events closed in around Daniel's heart. Where
responsibility lay and where guilt, where will power ended and fate
began, Daniel could not say. To express gratitude would be vulgar; to
conceal his emotions was difficult. He was ashamed of himself in the
presence of both of the women. But when he looked at the living
creature, his shame lost all meaning. And how exalted Eleanore appeared
in his eyes just then! She seemed to him equally amiable and worthy of
respect, whether he regarded her as an active or as a sentient, feeling
woman. He almost shuddered at the thought that she was so near him; that
what she had done had been done for him filled him with humility.

The strangest of all, however, was little Eva herself. He could not see
enough of her; he was amazed at the trick nature had played: a human
being of the noblest mien and form had been born of a gawky, uncouth
servant girl. There was something divinely graceful and airy about the
child. She had well-formed hands, delicate wrists, shapely ankles, and a
clear, transparent forehead, on which a network of bluish veins spread
out in various directions. Her laughter was the purest of music; and in
her walk and gestures in general there was a rhythm which promised much
for her future poise and winsomeness.

Daniel took Eleanore through the village and out to the old town gate.
It was the time of the annual fair; Eschenbach was crowded. They
returned on this account to the more quiet streets, and finally entered
the church. The sexton came up and admitted Daniel to the choir. Daniel
sat down at the organ; the sexton pumped the bellows; Eleanore took a
seat on one of the little benches near the side wall.

Daniel's eyes became fixed; his fingers touched the keys with
supernatural power; he began to improvise. There were two motifs
following each other in close succession; both were in fifths; they were
united into one; they ran from the low to the high registers, from Hell
through the World to Heaven. A hymn crowned the improvised composition.

He stood with Eleanore for a long while in the stillness. The songs
echoed from the lofty arches. It seemed to both of them that the blood
of t