that she never troubled herself about gossip. Last year she had obtained
a leave of absence from Loni, who was making a tour of the little Frank
towns, and spent the carnival season in revelry with a sergeant of the
Nurembreg soldiers. When the booty he had gained in Italy was
squandered, she gave him his dismissal. Her reputation among her
companions was neither better nor worse than that of the other strolling
players who, like her, were born on the highway, yet she was glad that
Lienhard had tried to spare her. Or had he only come with the old
noblewoman on account of his own fair name?

Perhaps--her pulses again throbbed faster at the thought--he had not
ventured to come alone because some feeling for her stirred in his own
heart, and, spite of his beautiful young wife, he did not feel safe from
her. Then Fran Schurstab was to serve as a shield. This conjecture
flattered her vanity and reconciled her to the step which she had taken
and already began to regret.

But suppose he really felt no more for her than the forester who finds a
child lost in the woods, and guides it into the right path? How would
she endure that? Yet, were it otherwise, if he was like the rest of men,
if he profited by what her whole manner must betray to him, how should
she face his wife, who undoubtedly would soon come to call on her aunt?

All these questions roused a tumult of unprecedented violence in her
young, ardent, inexperienced soul, which was renewed each successive
night. It became more and more difficult for her to understand why she
had left Loni's band and entered into relations for which she was not
suited, and in which she could never, never be at ease or feel happy.

Nothing was lacking in this wealthy household, not even kindness and