in truth and goodness, which had begun to bloom afresh in her heart
through the characters of this pair whose marriage procession she had
watched.

Loni had been beckoning a long time; now he waved his gay handkerchief
still more impatiently, and she moved on.

Her lips forced themselves into the customary smile with difficulty.
Tripping forward was an easy matter for one so free from dizziness. She
only carried the pole because it was customary to begin with the least
difficult feats. Yet, while gracefully placing one foot before the other,
she said to herself--safe as she felt--that, while so much agitated, she
would be wiser not to look down again into the depths below. She did
avoid it, and with a swift run gained the end of the rope without effort,
and went up and down it a second time.

While, on reaching the end of her walk, she was chalking her soles again,
the applause which had accompanied her during her dangerous pilgrimage
still rose to her ears, and came-most loudly of all from the stand where
Lienhard sat among the distinguished spectators. He, too, had clapped his
hands lustily, and shouted, "Bravo!" Never had he beheld any ropedancer
display so much grace, strength, and daring. His modest protegee had
become a magnificently developed woman. How could he have imagined that
the unfortunate young creature whom he had saved from disgrace would show
such courage, such rare skill?

He confided his feelings, and the fact that he knew the artist, to his
young neighbour, but she had turned deadly pale and lowered her eyes.
While looking on she had felt as though she herself was in danger of
falling into the depths. Giddiness had seized her, and her heart, whose