“Thou sayest true—­thou sayest no more than the truth.  Thou wert always of a more reasonable brain than I, though thy more southern origin would seem to contradict it.  Here, then, are all our fine fancies and liberal schemes of generosity blown to the winds!”

“That is not so evident,” returned the Genoese, who had not failed the while to study the countenance of Adelheid, as if he would fully ascertain her secret wishes.  “There has been much discourse, fair Adelheid, between thee and the youth on this matter?”

“Signore, there has.  I was about to communicate the intentions of my father; for the circumstances in which we were placed, the weight of our many obligations, the usual distance which rank interposes between the noble and the simply born, perhaps justified this boldness in a maiden,” she added, though the tell-tale blood revealed her shame.  “I was making Sigismund acquainted with my father’s wishes, when he met my confidence by the avowal which I have just related.”

“He deems his birth—?”

“An insuperable barrier to the connexion.  Sigismund Steinbach, though so little favored in the accident of his origin, is not a beggar to sue for that which his own generous feelings would condemn.”

“And thou?”

Adelheid lowered her eyes, and seemed to reflect on the nature of her answer.

“Thou wilt pardon this curiosity, which may wear too much the aspect of unwarrantable meddling, but my age and ancient friendship, the recent occurrences, and a growing love for all that concerns thee, must plead my excuses.  Unless we know thy wishes, daughter, neither Melchior nor I can act as we might wish?”

Adelheid was long and thoughtfully silent.  Though every sentiment of her heart, and all that inclination which is the offspring of the warm and poetical illusions of love, tempted her to declare a readiness to sacrifice every other consideration to the engrossing and pure affections of woman, opinion with its iron gripe still held her in suspense on the propriety of braving the prejudices of the world.  The timidity of that sex which, however ready to make an offering of its most cherished privileges on the shrine of connubial tenderness, shrinks with a keen sensitiveness from the appearance of a forward devotion to the other, had its weight also, nor could a child so pious altogether forget the effect her decision might have on the future happiness of her sole surviving parent.

The Genoese understood the struggle, though he foresaw its termination, and he resumed the discourse himself, partly with the kind wish to give the maiden time to reflect maturely before she answered, and partly following a very natural train of his own thoughts.