Henrica occupied a pretty, tastefully-furnished room. The windows looked
out upon the quiet court-yard, planted with trees, adjoining the chamois-
leather work shops. She was allowed to sit up part of the day in a
cushioned arm-chair, supported by pillows. Her healthy constitution was
rapidly rallying. True, she was still weak, and the headache spoiled
whole days and nights. Maria's gentle and thoughtful nature exerted a
beneficial influence upon her, and she cheerfully welcomed Barbara, with
her fresh face and simple, careful, helpful ways.

When Maria told her about the purchase Adrian had made for her, she was
moved to tears; but to the boy she concealed her grateful emotion under
jesting words, and greeted him with the exclamation:

"Come nearer, my preserver, and give me your hand."

Afterwards, she always called him "my preserver" or, as she liked to
mingle Italian words with her Dutch, "Salvatore" or "Signor Salvatore."
She was particularly fond of giving the people, with whom she associated,
names of her own, and so called Barbara, whose Christian name she thought
frightful, "Babetta," and little slender, pretty Bessie, whose company
she specially enjoyed, "the elf." The burgomaster's wife only remained
"Frau Maria," and when the latter once jestingly asked the cause of such
neglect, Henrica replied that she suited her name and her name her; had
she been called Martha, she would probably have named her "Maria."

The invalid had passed a pleasant, painless day, and when towards evening
Adrian went to see the English riders and the fragrance of the blooming
lindens and the moonlight found their way through the open windows of her
room, she begged Barbara not to bring a light, and invited Maria to sit
down and talk with her.