"Push on, Ebbo, mine; heed her not; she is a mere Bohemian."
"But how knew she your history, mother?" asked Friedel, eagerly.
"That might be easily learnt at our Wake," began Christina; but her
steps were checked by a call from Master Gottfried just behind.
"Frau Freiherrinn, Junkern, not so fast. Here is your noble
kinsman."
A tall, fine-looking person, in the long rich robe worn on peaceful
occasions, stood forth, doffing his eagle-plumed bonnet, and, as the
lady turned and curtsied low, he put his knee to the ground and
kissed her hand, saying, "Well met, noble dame; I felt certain that I
knew you when I beheld you in the Dome."
"He was gazing at her all the time," whispered Ebbo to his brother;
while their mother, blushing, replied, "You do me too much honour,
Herr Freiherr."
"Once seen, never to be forgotten," was the courteous answer: "and
truly, but for the stately height of these my godsons I would not
believe how long since our meeting was."
Thereupon, in true German fashion, Sir Kasimir embraced each youth in
the open street, and then, removing his long, embroidered Spanish
glove, he offered his hand, or rather the tips of his fingers, to
lead the Frau Christina home.
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