he never said anything about it, but I
know now he treasured it and loved me all the more for being a bad one.

If he was kind, she was still kinder; she, the Frau Magisterin. I had by
this time got initiated into the mysteries of German usage as regards
the participation of the wife in her husband's titular advantages.
Without an effort I could address Frau Schmidt as Mrs. Lettercarrieress,
or Frau Mueller as Madame Chimneysweeperess. So the "Frau Magisterin"
came quite naturally to me. She called me "Mein Lixchen," a tender
variation on my name. In fact, tenderness prevailed between her and me
from first to last, maternal on her side, filial on mine. She was under
middle size and of slight build; her bright little eyes, beaming with
benevolence, attracted you so much that you saw but little else in her
face. Everything was small about her. A tight-fitting cap hid the best
part of her hair, and the plain dress without puffs or ruffles, or any
of the other digressions dictated by the fashions of the day, seemed to
make everything else subordinate to the love-beaming eyes. She was then
in the prime of life. When I last saw her she was an old lady of
fourscore years, and her dear little face had become so very small,
that, although I am sure I did not mean to be irreverent in my thoughts,
I could not help being reminded of the immortal Cheshire cat, that
vanished leaving naught behind but a smile. Time, I felt, might deal
with her as is its wont, contract here and pinch there, lay out in folds
and wrinkles what were round and smooth surfaces; but that particular
twinkle that goes straight to the heart, the smile of the eye, would
ever remain intact.

The Magister and his wife were a truly happy and devoted couple, and
closely wound around their hearts were Bella and Frida, their two
daughters; one was about sixteen, the other fourteen, at the time I was
staying with them, good girls and pretty, with brown hair inclined to
curl on Bella's head, very smooth and Priscilla-like on Frida's. With a
view to securing for them the best possible education under the maternal
eye, classes had been formed at their home, and consequently a bevy of
young girls came up and went down those three flights of stairs on
certain days and at given hours. I was always interested in curious
coincidences, and so, to bring them about, I frequently found myself in
the way at the given hours. On such occasions I tried to look
unconcerned, or surpri