"Spinning and weaving, shaping and sewing," said Friedel, coming near
to let the housewife examine the texture.
"Close woven, even threaded, smooth tinted! Ah, Stina, thou didst
learn something! Thou wert not quite spoilt by the housefather's
books and carvings."
"I cannot tell whose teachings have served me best, or been the most
precious to me," said Christina, with clasped hands, looking from one
to another with earnest love.
"Thou art a good child. Ah! little one, forgive me; you look so like
our child that I cannot bear in mind that you are the Frau
Freiherrinn."
"Nay, I should deem myself in disgrace with you, did you keep me at a
distance, and not THOU me, as your little Stina," she fondly
answered, half regretting her fond eager movement, as Ebbo seemed to
shrink together with a gesture perceived by her uncle.
"It is my young lord there who would not forgive the freedom," he
said, good-humouredly, though gravely.
"Not so," Ebbo forced himself to say; "not so, if it makes my mother
happy."
He held up his head rather as if he thought it a fool's paradise, but
Master Gottfried answered: "The noble Freiherr is, from all I have
heard, too good a son to grudge his mother's duteous love even to
burgher kindred.
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