“It was the same before the priest’s consecration as afterward,” replied the young Councillor, gravely and firmly.

Then, changing his manner, he held out his brimming glass toward the Thuringian and gaily continued: 

“It ought not to seem so amazing to a man of your learning, my incredulous Herr Doctor.  Surely your far-famed Propertius says, ’Love is benefited by many things, a faithful nature and resolute persistence.’  Believe me, doctor, even without the counsel of your experienced Roman, I should have kept faith with the lovely child at home.  From my boyhood, Katharina was to me the woman, the one above all others, the worthy Tryphon, my teacher of Greek in Bologna, would have said.  My heart’s darling has always been my light, as Helios was that of the Greeks, though there were the moon and so many planets and stars besides.”

“And the vagrant we saw just now, on whom you bestowed a golden shower of remembrance as Father Zeus endowed the fair Danae?” asked Doctor Peutinger of Augsburg, shaking his finger mischievously at his young friend.  “We humanists follow the saying of Tibullus:  ’Whoever confesses let him be forgiven,’ and know the world sufficiently to be aware that within the walls of Ilium and without enormities are committed.”—­ [Horace, Epist. 1, 2, 16.]

“A true statement,” replied Lienhard.  “It probably applies to me as much as to the young girl, but there was really nothing between us which bore the most distant resemblance to a love intrigue.  As a magistrate, I acquitted her of a trivial misdemeanour which she committed while my wedding procession was on its way to the altar.  I did this because I was unwilling to have that happy hour become a source of pain to any one.  In return, she grew deeply attached to me, who can tell whether from mere gratitude, or because a warmer feeling stirred her strange heart?  At that time she was certainly a pretty, dainty creature, and yet, as truly as I hope to enjoy the love of my darling wife for many a year, there was nothing, absolutely nothing, between me and the blue-eyed, dark-haired wanderer which the confessor might not have witnessed.  I myself wonder at this, because I by no means failed to see the ropedancer’s peculiar changeful charms, and the tempter pointed them out to me zealously enough.  Besides, she has no ordinary nature.  She had accomplished really marvellous feats in her art, until at Augsburg, during the Reichstag, when in the Emperor’s presence, she risked the most daring ventures—­”

“Could it be the same person who, before our poor Juliane’s eyes, had the awful fall which frightened the child so terribly?” asked Doctor Peutinger earnestly.

“The very same,” replied Lienhard in a tone of sincere pity; but the Augsburg doctor continued, sighing: 

“With that sudden fright, which thrilled her sensitive nature to its inmost depths, began the illness of the angel whose rich, loving heart throbbed so tenderly for you also, Herr Lienhard.”