"Come here, wench," and Christina
underwent a series of sharp searching questions on the evidences of
her marriage.
"So," ended the old lady, "since better may not be, we must own thee
for the nonce. Hark ye all, this is the Frau Freiherrinn, Freiherr
Eberhard's widow, to be honoured as such," she added, raising her
voice. "There, girl, thou hast what thou didst strive for. Is not
that enough?"
"Alas! lady," said Christina, her eyes swimming in tears, "I would
fain have striven to be a comforter, or to weep together."
"What! to bewitch me as thou didst my poor son and daughter, and
well-nigh my lord himself! Girl! Girl! Thou know'st I cannot burn
thee now; but away with thee; try not my patience too far."
And, more desolate than ever, the crushed and broken-hearted
Christina, a widow before she had been owned a wife, returned to the
room that was now so full of memories as to be even more home than
Master Gottfried's gallery at Ulm.
CHAPTER VIII: PASSING THE OUBLIETTE
Who can describe the dreariness of being snowed-up all the winter
with such a mother-in-law as Freiherrinn Kunigunde?
Yet it was well that the snow came early, for it was the best defence
of the lonely castle from any attack on the part of the
Schlangenwaldern, the Swabian League, or the next heir, Freiherr
Kasimir von Adlerstein Wildschloss.
Pages:
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184