And had she not cause to rejoice?  Ludwig—­her Ludwig—­did not hasten first to embrace and kiss his betrothed wife.  No, she, his little Marie, was the first!

He flung himself on his knees by the bed and covered the pale face with kisses and tears.

“Oh, my dearest!  My adored saint!  My idol!” he sobbed, while Marie’s face glowed with the purest earthly happiness.

She pressed Ludwig’s head to her breast and whispered soothingly: 

“Don’t grieve, Ludwig; I am not going to die.  I have not got that horrid influenza poor papa Cambray brought with him from Paris.  I took a little cold the night we ran away from the bombs; but I shall soon be well again, now that you are come.  I want to live, Ludwig, and you, who rescued me from death once before, will know how to do it again.”

Katharina laid her hand tenderly on the maid’s head, and said gently: 

“Don’t talk any more now, dearest; you know you must not excite yourself.”

Marie grasped the white hand and drew it down to Ludwig’s lips.

“Kiss it, Liadwig; kiss this dear, good hand.  Oh, she has been a good little mother to me!  She has wept so much because of me.  If only you knew what she had planned to do when they were going to tear me away from her!  But that danger is past, and now that you are come everything will be well.  We have been reading about you, Ludwig.  What a hero you are—­our knight, St. George!  I have n’t been really ill, you know, Ludwig; it was only anxiety about you.  I shall soon be well again.  Please tell the doctor I don’t need any more medicine.  I want to get up—­I feel strong already.  I want to put on my gown; then I will take your arm and Katharina’s, and we three will promenade to the window.  I want to see the evening star.  Please send Frau Satan to me; she can lift me more easily than Katharina, for I am very heavy.  Ludwig, take Katharina into the next room while I am dressing.  I know you have much to say to each other.”

Frau Satan now entered in answer to the summons.  The doctor had ordered that the invalid’s wishes must be obeyed.

Ludwig and Katharina went into the next room.  They looked long into each other’s eyes, and in the gaze lay many of the thoughts which, if they cannot be told to the one person on earth, are never heard by any one else.  Suddenly Katharina, without word of warning, dropped on her knees at her lover’s feet, seized his hand, and laid her face against it.

“You are my guardian angel,” she whispered (the invalid in the next room must not be disturbed by the sound of voices); “you have rescued that saint from her enemies and saved me from perdition.  Oh, Ludwig, if only you knew what I have suffered!  Marie’s every sigh, the feverish words uttered in her delirium, have been so many accusations oppressing my heart.  These have been terrible days!  To be compelled hourly to dread either of two horrible