approached Frau Sabina to accuse Barbara of insubordination, obstinacy,
pride, and forwardness, which were unseemly for one so young, as well as
exchanging coquettish glances with the masculine members of the choir,
the profoundly respected wife of the syndic and her young daughter warmly
defended the persecuted girl.

In this her husband strongly supported her, for, when necessary, he dealt
weighty blows and upheld what he deemed just without fear of man and with
the powerful aids of his strong intellect and the weight of the esteem he
had won by a stainless, industrious life.

Doubtless Frau Sabina also perceived something unusual in Barbara's
nature and conduct, traits of defiance, almost rebellion, which would
have troubled her in her Martina, who, though no beauty, was a pretty
girl, with the most winning, childlike charm; but she secretly asked
herself whether she would not accept it gratefully if, in exchange, her
girl could possess such a wonderful gift of God; for, sharply as the eye
of envy followed Barbara's every act, she had never given cause to doubt
her chastity, and this Frau Hiltner considered greatly in her favour;
for what tremendous temptations must have assailed this marvellously
beautiful creature, this genuine artist, who had grown to womanhood
without a mother, and whose only counsellor and protector was a crippled,
eccentric old soldier.

As Martina opened the door of the sitting room a loud conversation in
men's voices became audible, and with the deep, resonant tones of the
syndic Barbara recognised the higher, less powerful ones of the man whom
she was seeking.

The kiss of the scarcely unfolded bud of girlhood, the child of a mother