But this Gottlieb did not hear, for he had availed himself of the first
free moment to run home and tell his mother how things had improved.

After that, Gottlieb had no more trouble about the master. The old
man's severity became comprehensible and dear to him, and a loving
liberty and confidence came into his bearing toward him, which went to
the heart of the childless old man, so that dearer than the praise of
the archduchess, or even the discomfiture of the Cistercians, became to
him the success and welfare of the child.

But then, unknown to himself, the poor boy entered on a new chapter of
temptations.

The other boys, observing the choir-master's love for him, grew
jealous, and called him sometimes "the master's little angel," and
sometimes "the little beggar of the hermitage" or "Dwarf Hans'
darling."

He was too brave and manly a little fellow to tell his mother all these
little annoyances. He would not for the world have spoiled her joy in
her little "Chrysostom," her golden-mouthed laddie. But once they
followed him to her door, and she heard them herself. The rude words
smote her to the heart, but she only said:

"Thou art not ashamed of the hermit's house, nor of being old Hans'
darling?"

"I hope, never!" said the child, with a little hesitation. "God sent
him to us, and I love him. But it would be nice if dear Hans sometimes