twins imposed too heavy a burden upon the kind-hearted vagabond, and he
had withdrawn his aid.

Then the ropedancer met her. True, she herself was in danger of being
left lying by the wayside; but she was alone, and the mother had her
children. These were two budding hopes, while she had nothing more to
expect save the end--the sooner the better. There could be no new
happiness for her.

And yet, to have found some one who was even more needy than she, lifted
her out of herself, and to have power to be and do something in her
behalf pleased her, nay, even roused an emotion akin to that which, in
better days, she had felt over a piece of good fortune which others
envied. Perhaps she herself might be destined to die on the highway,
without consolation, the very next day; but she could save this unhappy
woman from it, and render her end easier. Oh, how rich Lienhard's gold
coins made her! Yet if, instead of three, there had been as many dozens,
she would have placed the larger portion in the twins' pillows. How it
must soothe their mother's heart! Each one was a defence against hunger
and want. Besides, the gold had been fairly burning her hand. It came
from Lienhard. Had it not been for Cyriax and the crowd of people in the
room, she would have made him take it back--she alone knew why.

How did this happen?

Why did every fibre of her being rebel against receiving even the
smallest trifle from the man to whom she would gladly have given the
whole world? Why, after she had summoned up courage and approached
Lienhard to restore his gift, had she felt such keen resentment and
bitter suffering when the landlord of The Blue Pike stopped her?