hitherto unknown, he had wedded two others.

Now, as the image of old Countess Rotterbach, Isabella's grandmother,
forced itself upon his mind, he unconsciously knit his brow. He had not
heard her say much, but with every word she bestowed upon him he was
forced to accept something bitter. She rarely left her place in the
armchair in the bow window in the sitting-room, but it seemed as if her
little eyes possessed the power of piercing walls and doors, for she knew
everything that concerned him, even his greatest secrets, which he
believed he had carefully concealed. More on her account than on that
of his mother-in-law, who did nothing except what the former commanded,
he had repeatedly tried to remove with his wife to the estate of
Tannenreuth, which had been assigned to him on the day of the marriage,
that its revenues might support the young couple, but the mother and
grandmother detained his wife, and their wishes were more to her than
his. Perhaps, however, he might have induced her to go with him had not
his father-in-law made his debts a snare, which he drew whenever it was
necessary to stifle his wishes, and he, too, wanted to retain his
daughter at home.

Since Wolff's return from Italy he had become aware that the stream of
gold from the Eysvogel coffers flowed more sparingly, or even failed
altogether to satisfy his extravagant tastes. Therefore his relations
with his brother-in-law, whose prudent caution he considered avarice, and
whose earnest protests against his often unprecedented demands frequently
roused his ire, became more and more unfriendly.

The inmates of the Eysvogel house rendered his home unendurable, and from
the experiences of his bachelor days he knew only too well where mirth
reigned in Nuremberg. So he became a rare guest at the Eysvogels, and