Eva, too, was also on the ground dearest and most familiar to her. Her
little tongue ran fast enough, and her large blue eyes sparkled with an
unusually bright and happy lustre as she completed and corrected what the
young knight told her about the saint.

How much that was lovable, benevolent, and wonderful there was to relate
concerning this prophet of peace and good-will, this apostle of poverty
and toil who, in every movement of nature, perceived and felt a summons
to recognise the omnipotence and goodness of God, an invitation to devout
submission to the Most High!

How many amusing, yet edifying and touching anecdotes, the Abbess
Kunigunde had narrated of him and the most beloved of his followers!
Much of this conversation Eva repeated to the knight, and her pleasure in
the subject of the conversation increased the vivacity of her active
mind, and soon led her to talk with eager eloquence. Heinz Schorlin
fairly hung on her lips, and his eyes, which betrayed how deeply all that
he was hearing moved him, rested on hers until a flourish of trumpets
announced that the interval between the dances was over.

He had listened in delight and, he felt, was forever bound to her. When
duty summoned him to attend the Emperor he asked himself whether such a
conversation had ever been held in the midst of a merry dance; whether
God, in his goodness, had ever created a being so perfect in soul and
body as this fair saint, who could transform a ballroom into a church.

Aye, Eva had done so; for, ardent as was the knight's love, something
akin to religious devotion blended with his yearning desire. The last
words which he addressed to her before leading her back to the others