isit went on as well as it had begun, for he was welcomed very
warmly both by the widow and daughter of Rufinus. Pulcheria at once
pushed forward her father's arm-chair and placed a pillow behind his
back, and she did it so quietly, so simply, and so amiably that it
warmed his old heart, and he said to himself that it would be almost
too much of a good thing to have such care given him every day and every
hour.

He could not forbear from a kindly jest with the young girl over her
attentions, and Martina at once entered into the joke. She had seen
him coming on his fine ass; she praised the steed, and then refused to
believe that the rider was past eighty. His news of Philip's departure
was regretted by all, and he was delighted to perceive that Pulcheria
seemed startled and presently shrank into the background. What a sweet,
pure, kind face the child had--and pretty withal; she must and should be
his little daughter; and all the while he was talking, or listening to
Katharina's small jokes and a friendly catechism from Martina and Dame
Joanna, in his mind's eye he saw Philippus and that dear little creature
as man and wife, surrounded by pretty children playing all about him.

He had come to comfort and to condole, and lo! he was having as pleasant
an hour as he had known in a long time.

He and the other visitors had been received in the vindarium, which was
now brightly lighted up, and now and then he glanced at the doors which
opened on this, the centre of the house, trying to imagine what the
different rooms should by-and-bye be used for.

But he heard a light step behind him; Martina rose, the water-wagtail
hurried to meet the new-comer, and there appeared on the scene the tall
figure of a girl dressed in mourning-robes. She greeted the matron with
distinguished dignity, cast a cordial glance of sympathetic intelligence
to Joanna and Pulcheria, and when the mistress of the house told her
who the old man was, she went up to him and held out her hand--a cool,
slender hand, as white as marble; the true patrician hand.

Yes, she was beautiful, wonderfully beautiful! He could hardly remember
ever to have seen her equal. A spotless masterpiece of the Creator's
hand, made like some unapproachable goddess, to command the worship of
subject adorers; however, she must renounce all hope of his, for those
marble features, all the whiter by contrast with her black dress, had no
attraction for him. No warming glow shone in t