Sister Hildegard received her with an embarrassment by no means usual, but which Eva thought natural when the former told her that the dying Father Benedictus had asked for her impatiently.  The widow was doing well, and Biberli would hardly need her; for the wife of a Swabian knight in whose service he had formerly been was sitting by his couch with her young daughter, and their visit seemed to please him.

Eva remarked in surprise that she thought the sick man had never served any one except the Schurlins, but she was in too much haste for further questions, and entered the room where Biberli lay.

Her face was flushed by the rapid ride; her thick, fair hair, which usually fell loosely on her shoulders, had been hastily braided before she mounted her horse, but the long, heavy braids had become unfastened on the way, and now hung in tresses round her face and pliant figure.

She waved her hand gaily from the threshold to the patient for whom she had done and dared so much; but ere approaching his couch she modestly saluted the stately matron who was with Biberli, and nodded a pleasant welcome to her daughter, whose pretty, frank face attracted her.  After the Swabians had cordially returned her greeting, she briefly excused herself, as an urgent duty would not permit her to yield to her desire to remain with them.

Lastly, she addressed a few hasty questions to the squire about his health, kissed little Walpurga, who had nestled to her side, bade her tell her another that she would come to her later, and entered the next room.

“Well?” Biberli asked his visitors eagerly, after the door had closed behind her.

“Oh, how beautiful she is!” cried the younger lady quickly, but her mother’s voice trembled with deep emotion as she answered:  “How I objected to my son’s marriage with the daughter of a city family!  Nay, I intended to cast all the weight of my maternal influence between Heinz and the Nuremberg maiden.  Yet you did not say too much, my friend, and what your praise began Eva’s own appearance has finished.  She will be welcome to me as a daughter.  I have scarcely ever seen anything more lovely.  That she is devout and charitable and, moreover, has a clear intellect and resolute energy, can be plainly perceived in spite of the few minutes which she could spare us.  If Heaven would really suffer our Heinz to win the heart of this rare creature——­”

“Every fibre of it is his already,” interrupted Biberli.  “The rub—­pardon me, noble lady!—­is somewhere else.  Whether he—­whether Heinz can be induced to renounce the thought of the monastery, is the question.”

He sighed faintly as he gazed into the still beautiful, strong, and yet kindly face of the Lady Wendula Schorlin, Sir Heinz’s mother, for she was the older visitor.

“We ought not to doubt that,” replied the matron firmly.  “As the last of his ancient race, it is his duty to provide for its continuance, not solely for his own salvation.  He was always a dutiful son.”