home of his childhood; but Barbara saw him go with the sorrowful fear
that, in the rural solitude which awaited him in Spain, her talented
friend would lose his art and every loftier aspiration; yet both felt
sure that, whatever might be the course of their lives, each would hold
a firm place in the other's memory.

A few hours after this farewell Barbara received a letter from the
Council, in which Wolf Hartschwert secured to her and her father during
their lives the free use of the house which he had inherited in Red Cock
Street, with the sole condition of allowing his faithful Ursula to occupy
the second story until her death.

The astonished girl at once went to express her thanks for so much
kindness; but Wolf had left Ratisbon a short time before, and when
Barbara entered the house she found old Ursula at the window with her
tear-stained face resting on her clasped hands. When she heard her name
called, she raised her little head framed in the big cap, and as soon as
she recognised the unexpected visitor she cast so malevolent a glance at
her that a shiver ran through the girl's frame.

After a few brief words of greeting, Barbara left the old woman,
resolving not to enter the house soon again.

In passing the chapel she could and would not resist its strong power of
attraction. With bowed head she entered the quiet little sanctuary,
repeated a paternoster, and prayed fervently to the Mother of God to
restore the clearness of her voice once more. While doing so, she
imagined that the gracious intercessor gazed down upon her sometimes
compassionately, sometimes reproachfully, and, in the consciousness of
her guilt, she raised her hands, imploring forgiveness, to the friendly,