Never had the children seen her more extravagantly gay than after her
resolve to leave them. Yet when, at a late hour, Kuni went to bed, the
old housekeeper heard her weeping so piteously in her chamber that she
rose to ask what had happened. But the girl did not even open her door,
and declared that she had probably had the nightmare.

During the next few days she sometimes appeared more cheerful and docile,
sometimes more dull and troubled than her household companions had ever
seen her. Frau Schurstab shook her head over her protegee's varying
moods. But when the month of May began, and Lienhard told his aunt that
Loni, who had only remained in Nuremberg during Lent to spend the time
when all public performances were prohibited, had applied to the Council
for permission to give exhibitions with his company Easter week in the
Haller Meadows, the matron was troubled about her protegee's peace of
mind. Her nephew had had the same thought, and advised her to move to
her country estate, that Kuni might see and hear nothing of the jugglers;
but she had noticed the clown with other members of the company, as they
passed through the streets on foot and mounted on horses and donkeys,
inviting the people, with blare of trumpets and beating of drums, to
witness the wonderful feats which Loni's famous band of artists would
perform.

Then Kuni packed her bundle. But when she heard the next morning that,
before going to the country, Frau Schurstab would attend the christening
of her youngest grandson, and spend the whole day with the daughter who
was the little boy's mother, she untied it.

One sunny May morning she was left alone, as she had expected. She could
not be invited to the ceremony with the other guests, and she would not