And now the devout child, who firmly believed in a meeting after death
face to face, permitted me a glimpse of the wondrous world in which she
hoped to have her portion after the end here.

I listened in astonishment, with sincere emotion. This was the faith
which moved mountains, which brings heaven itself to earth.

Afterwards I again beheld the eyes with which, gazing into vacancy, she
tried to conjure up before my soul these visions of hope from the realm
of her fairest dreams--they were those of Raphael's Saint Cecilia in
Bologna and Munich. I also saw them long after Nenny's death in one of
Murillo's Madonnas in Seville, and even now they rise distinctly before
my memory.

To disturb this childish faith or check the imagination winged by this
devout enthusiasm would have seemed to me actually criminal. And I was
young. Even the suffering I had endured had neither silenced the
yearning voice of my heart nor cooled the warmth of my blood. I, who
had believed that the garden of love was forever closed against me, was
beloved by the most beautiful girl, who was even dearer to me than life,
and with new hope, which Nenny's faith in God's goodness bedewed with
warm spring rain, I enjoyed this happiness.

Yet conscience could not be silenced. The warning voice of my mother,
to whom I had opened my heart, sharpened the admonitions of mine; and
when Wildbad brought me only relief, by no means complete recovery, I
left the decision to the physician. It was strongly adverse. Under the
most favourable circumstances years must pass ere I should be justified
in binding any woman's fate to mine.