ble that the tearing of her veil had nothing to do
with her depression: there was not a shimmer of superstition in her.
Perhaps it was merely happiness and fulfilment: it may be that she felt
the end had come, that happiness and fulfilment leave nothing more to be
desired, that life from then on would be nothing but a hum-drum
existence which does not give but only takes.

Perhaps her mind was darkened and weighed down with grief because of the
life within her body; for that which is to come sends out its rays of
melancholy just as well as that which has come and gone. What was there
to hinder a pure soul from having an inner premonition of the fate that
was in store for it? Why should this soul not learn in its dreams of the
inevitable that was not so far ahead?

It was impossible to notice any change in Eleanore; her eyes were
bright; she seemed peaceful. She would often sit before the mask of
Zingarella; she hung it with fresh flowers every day: to her the mask
was a mysterious picture of all that her own being, her own life,
embraced.

Marian Nothafft came to the wedding alone. Just as in the case of
Daniel's wedding to Gertrude, she had left the child with a neighbour.
She told Daniel and Eleanore that she could not think of taking the
child out on such a journey in the dead of winter. She mentioned Eva's
name or talked about her only in a half audible, subdued voice, a tender
smile playing gently about her lips.

Among those present at the wedding in the AEgydius Church were Judge and
Frau Ruebsam, Councillor Bock, Impresario Doermaul, Philippina
Schimmelweis, Marian Nothafft, and Inspector Jordan. On the very last
bench sat Herr Carovius; underneath one of the pillars, unseen by most
of the people in the church, stood Baron Eberhard von Auffenberg.

Philippina walked along in an ugly, crouched, cowering fashion by the
side of Jordan; had it not been that she was constantly chewing her
finger nails, one would have thought she was asleep.

As the bridal couple was marching up to the altar, the sun broke out,
and shone through the windows of the old church. The effect was
touching; for just then Eleanore raised her head, stroked her veil back
from her forehead, and caught the full light of the sun in her radiant
face.

Old Jordan had laid his forehead on the prayer-desk; his back was
quivering.

XIV

Late at night and in senseless excitement--for he was thinking of a
b