In the entry of the house Maria met Wilhelm's mother, and promised her
she would consult with Frau Van Hout that very day, concerning the
extortion practised by the market-men. Then she went to poor Bessie, who
sat, pale and weak, in a little chair. Her prettiest doll had been lying
an hour in the same position on her lap. The child's little hands and
will were too feeble to move the toy. Trautchen brought in a cup of new
milk. The citizens were not yet wholly destitute of this, for a goodly
number of cows still grazed outside the city walls under the protection
of the cannon, but the child refused to drink and could only be induced,
amid tears, to swallow a few drops.

While Maria was affectionately coaxing the little one, Peter entered the
room. The tall man, the very model of a stately burgher, who paid
careful heed to his outward appearance, now looked careless of his
person. His brown hair hung over his forehead, his thick, closely-
trimmed moustache straggled in thin lines over his cheeks, his doublet
had grown too large, and his stockings did not fit snugly as usual, but
hung in wrinkles on his powerful legs.

Greeting his wife with a careless wave of the hand, he approached the
child and gazed silently at it a long time with tender affection. Bessie
turned her pretty little face towards him and tried to welcome him, but
the smile died on her lips, and she again gazed listlessly at her doll,
Peter stooped, raised her in his arms, called her by name and pressed his
lips to her pale cheeks. The child gently stroked his beard and then
said feebly:

"Put me down, dear father, I feel dizzy up here." The burgomaster, with
tears in his eyes, put his darling carefully back in her little chair,