During the day and the night when she expected his visit, she had become
aware that she, who had never cared for any man save for the gifts he
bestowed, was fired with love for Lienhard. Such ardent yearning could
torture only a loving heart, yet what she felt was very unlike the love
with which she was familiar in songs, and had seen in other girls; for
she by no means thought with jealous rancour of the woman to whom he
belonged, body and soul--his beautiful wife. It rather seemed to her that
she was his, and he would no longer be the same if he were separated from
her, nay, as if her very love was hers also. When she heard a noise
outside of her little room she started, and eagerly as she yearned to see
him, blissful as she thought it must be to sink upon his breast and offer
him her lips to kiss, the bold ropedancer, who never cared for the
opinions of others, could not shake off, even for a moment, the fear of
wronging the fair wife who had a better right to him. Instead of hating
her, or even wishing to share the heart of the man she loved with his
bride, she shrank from the approaching necessity of clouding her young
happiness as though it were the direst misfortune. Yet she felt that its
prevention lay, not in her own hands, but in those of Fate. Should it
please Destiny to lead Lienhard to her and inspire him with a desire for
her love, all resistance, she knew, would be futile. So she began to
repeat several paternosters that he might remain away from her. But her
yearning was so great that she soon desisted, and again and again went to
the window with a fervent wish that he might come.

In the terrible tumult of her heart she had forgotten to eat or to drink
since early morning, and at last, in the afternoon, some one knocked at
the door, and the landlady called her.

While she was hurriedly smoothing her thick black hair and straightening