difficulty noticed her remark with a smile.

"The frowns of men, my son," observed the monk, "are usually reserved for
those who offend its ordinances. The latter may not be always just, but
there is a common sentiment which refuses to visit innocence, even in the
narrow sense in which we understand the word, with undeserved
displeasure."

The Herr Müller looked earnestly at the Augustine, and he seemed about to
answer; but, checking the impulse, he bowed in submission. At the same
time, a wild, painful smile gleamed on his face.

"I agree with thee, good canon," rejoined the simple-minded baron: "we are
much addicted to quarrelling with the world, but, after all, when we look
closely into the matter, it will commonly be found that the cause of our
grievances exists in ourselves."

"Is there no Providence, father?" exclaimed Adelheid, a little
reproachfully for one of her respectful habits and great filial
tenderness. "Can we recall the dead to life, or keep those quick whom God
is pleased to destroy?"

"Thou hast me, girl!--there is a truth in this that no bereaved parent can
deny!"

This remark produced an embarrassed pause, during which the Herr Müller
gazed furtively about him, looking from the face of one to that of
another, as if seeking for some countenance on which he could rely. But
he turned away to the view of those hills which had been so curiously
wrought by the finger of the Almighty, and seemed to lose himself in their