Paul?"

Erastus looked at her in amazement: "How? After that he plunged us all
in this misery, can'st thou not sever thy heart from him?"

"Ask this flower why it follows the course of the sun," said Lydia, "it
cannot do otherwise."

"But how can'st thou prefer the horrible Priest, this pale man broken
down in health to the straightforward, happy young Maestro?"

"I know not," said the maiden thoughtfully. "This love has deeper roots
than those of reason. In what does it consist? Merely in my love for
him, in that I cannot tear myself away from him. Not because he is
handsomer or wiser than others am I his, but only because I cannot live
away from him, because he is my Sun, without whom I should wither away
as does this flower in winter;" and she silently dried the tears which
rose to her eyes.

"He has suffered too severely for our sakes," answered Erastus after a
few moments of thought, "for me to say nay. It is God's decree, His
will be done."

CHAPTER XV.

Slowly was the patient of the gable-house moving towards convalescence.
His wounds still smarted, and any motion caused him pain, but he bore
all his sufferings with the greatest composure, and to his brother's
inquiry he answered with a grateful look: "_Sta bene._" Klytia also who
continued to nurse him with a certain diffidence, he ever greeted with
a look of deep gratitude. In the weak condition in which he now found
himself all natural passion, force of character, and love of the
artificial seemed to have left him; he was kinder and more simple than
he had ever been before; fictitiousness, nonsense and bombast had
fallen away from him. The brilliant personality of the Italian savant,
which spreads a shimmer of eloquence over the most unimportant theme,
and loves to express epigrammatically the most common place subject,
had been replaced by a poor suffering man. He was no longer the _primus
omnium_ of the college at Venice whose mouth overflowed with wisdom.
Rather was there something childlike in his helplessness. He modestly
held back, although all interest was centred on him. His gratitude for
any attention, his respect for Belier's and Erastus' learning, his
unassuming attention caused him to resemble a mere boy. Now only could
one perceive how young he really was. When Frau Belier passionately
exclaimed at the sight of his wounds he meekly answered: "I wished to
do the same to others, who were better than I,