Forasmuch as she had danced with him the Dance of Honor or first dance, it was his part to beg her hand for the last dance—­the “grandfather’s dance;”—­[Still a well-known country dance in Germany.]—­but she would fain punish him for the vexation he had caused her and turned her back upon him.  He, however, would have none of this; he grasped her hand ere she was aware of him, and dragged her after him.  It was vain to struggle, and soon his strong will was a pleasure to her, and her countenance beamed again full brightly, when as this dance requires, he had led the way with her, the rest all following, through chamber and hall, kitchen and courtyard, doors and windows, nay, and even the stables.  In the course of this dance each one seized some utensil or house-gear, as we do to this day; only never a broom, which would bring ill-luck.  Ursula had snatched up a spoon, and when the mad sport was ended and he had let go her hand, she rapped him with it smartly on the arm and cried:  “You are still what you ever were, in the dance at least!”

But my brother only said:  “Then will I try to become not the same, even in that.”

Round the Christmas tree and at the sharing of gifts which Cousin Maud made ready for Christmas eve, we were all friendly and glad at heart, and Ann found her way to join us after that she had put the little ones to bed.

Herdegen said she herself was the dearest gift for which he could thank the Christ-child, and he had provided for her as a costly token the great Petrarca’s heroic poem of Africa, in which he sings the deeds of the noble Scipio, and likewise his smaller poems, all written in a fair hand.  They made three neat books, and on the leathern cover, the binder, by Herdegen’s orders, had stamped the words, “Anna-Laura,” in a wreath of full-blown roses.  Nor was she slow to understand their intent, and her heart was uplifted with such glad and hopeful joy that the Christ-child for a certainty found no more blissful or thankful creature in all Nuremberg that Christmas eve.

The manifold duties which filled up all her days left her but scant time wherein to work for him she loved; nevertheless she had wrought with her needle a letter pouch, whereon the Schoppers’ arms were embroidered in many colored silks, and the words ‘Agape’ and ’Pistis’—­which are in Greek Love and Faithfulness in Greek letters with gold thread.  Cousin Maud had dipped deep into her purse and likewise into her linen-press, and on the table under the Christmas-tree lay many a thing fit for the bride-chest of a maid of good birth; and albeit Ann could not but rejoice over these gifts for their own sake, she did so all the more gladly, inasmuch as she guessed that Cousin Maud was well-disposed to speed her marriage.

We were all, indeed, glad and thankful; all save the Magister, whose face was ill-content and sour by reason that he had culled many verses and maxims concerning love, for the most part from the Greek and Latin poets, and yet all his attempts to repeat them before Ann came to nothing, inasmuch as she was again and again taken up with Herdegen and with me, after she had once shaken hands with him and given him her greetings.