s the poor
Klytia done to you, that you thus treat it?" asked Felix with apparent
innocence. "You witnessed all," answered she, "how those aristocratic
young ladies abused me! I am here badly off, for I am the only one who
is not of noble birth, my father is Counsellor Erastus, or Liebler as
the petty nobility love to call him."

"Ah, my beloved patron," said Felix.

"You know my father? Oh, how glad I am. Is he not a splendid man?"
rejoined the lovely child with a happy light in her blue eyes, whilst a
flush of joy crimsoned her cheek.

"A noble man," affirmed Felix.

"Well, the Kurfuerst sent me with the Countess Erbach, and the Ladies
von Hemmingen, von Venningen and a few others here, in order that we
might learn languages, history, and the Catechism, and get accustomed
to strict discipline, and I know not what else, that high gentleman
imagined was to be had here. As I am the only commoner, they treat me
as an intruder and Fraeulein von Luetzelstein is by far the worst. She
has alleged that when we take our Italian lessons from Master
Laurenzano, I always turn my head this way and that way after him like
a sun-flower, and then they make fun of me 'heliotrope, girasole,' you
heard it yourself. But it is all nothing but silliness."

"Wegewarte, I heard them also call," said Felix slily. The girl blushed
involuntarily. "That is the same flower," she answered gazing with an
embarrassed look at the tops of the trees. "It is better for me to tell
you everything, in order that you may not finish by relating a lot of
nonsense to Magister Laurenzano. I had gone out to the meadow of the
Convent, to pluck flowers, but only because I will have nothing more to
do with the noble young ladies. Out of spite they followed after me and
Baroness von Eppingen asserted, that I had gone to the meadow, so that
the Magister might meet me on his way home, and then they called me
'Wayside loiterer' and made me prisoner. But," added she with an
imploring look out of her childish eyes, now suffused with tears, "you
promise not to say anything of this to the Magister, otherwise I must
throw myself in the water. Rather than be thus disgraced I will jump
into the Neckar. Promise me, will you not?"

The young man smilingly held out his hand. "I give you my word."
Apparently greatly relieved she placed her right hand in his, which he
did not hurry to let go, till she slightly blushing drew it back. As in
some beauteous sylvan fairy-tale sto