when I stand at yon window, as she rambles in
the garden, she will pluck flower after flower, as though she knew not
why; then fling them all aside, then pick them up with care; then
disappear as if she had gone back, and yet come forth again."

Magdalena's brow grew thoughtful and anxious as Gottlob proceeded in his
enumeration of these symptoms. Her bosom heaved painfully, her hands
were clenched together.

"Poor child! should it be so!" she murmured, casting her eyes upon the
ground; and then, raising them again to Gottlob's face, into which she
looked with scrutinizing eagerness, she said aloud--"And yet you do not
think she loves you?"

"She love me!" cried the young man. "Such a dream of bliss were madness!
Can I forget the immeasurable gulf that separates the noble daughter of
the high-placed Amtmann from the poor and humble artist--the dependent
of a cloister? No, Magdalena. I must die as I have lived, the poor
unloved and uncared-for orphan--die without a sigh of pity, without a
tear of sorrow from her eye."

"Have you, then, no friends, poor youth?" said Magdalena.

"None. Yes! I am ungrateful. I have one--a kind protector; but he is far
removed, and I have seen him seldom."

"The Prince Bishop of Fulda!" repeated the old woman, with some degree
of agitation. "Perhaps--yet it is a wild and foolish thought--perhaps
all hope is not shut out to you."

"What sayest thou, then, old Magdalena?" said the youth. "Hope were but
torture were it vain; and so it must be"----

"Yes. I was wrong. Heed not my words! But know you not that your patron,
the bishop, is close at hand? Already I have heard that he arrived this
morning at his castle of Saaleck, at half a league's distance from the
town; and he will probably shortly enter Hammelburg, as is his wont."

"These are glad tidings!" said Gottlob, his eyes beaming with joy. "I
will at once to Saaleck, and, if the prince admit me to his presence,
throw myself at his feet, assure him of all my gratitude for the past,
and offer him my poor service for the future."

With these words the young man hurried to his cumbrous chest, and
pulling out a short cloak, flung it around him. A small cap of black
velvet, of the cut of the time, which showed off to advantage the beauty
of his youthful face, was hastily thrown upon his head. He was about to
quit the chamber, when Magdalena caught him by the arm.

"Thy repast, Master Gottlob."

"Have I time to think of that?" said