As he spoke he took the coin in his hand, crossed himself, and added
thoughtfully: "The little silver coin, or whatever he flung in here--
perhaps to pay for the flowers, which are not worth five shillings--has
been changed into pure gold by the saint who wrought the miracle for him.
My soul! If many in Nuremberg paid so high for forage, the rich Eysvogel
would leave the Council and go in search of wild flowers!"

Eva begged the man to leave the zecchin, promising to give him another at
home and half a pound in coppers as earnest money. "This is what I call
a lucky morning!" cried Ortel. But directly after he changed his tone,
remembering Eva's white mourning robe and the object of their expedition,
and his fresh voice sounded very sympathetic as he added: "If one could
only call your lady mother back to life! Ah, me! I'd spend all my
savings to buy for the saints as many candles as my mother has in her
little shop, if that would change things."

Whilst speaking he filled the basket with flowers, and the nun helped
him. Eva walked before them with bowed head.

Could she hope to wed the man for whom Heaven had performed such a
miracle? Was it no sin to hope and plead that he would wear their common
colour, not in honour of the Queen of Heaven, but of the lowly Eva, in
whom nothing was strong save the desire for good? Was not Heinz forcing
her to enter into rivalry with one the most distant comparison with whom
meant defeat? Yet, no! Her gracious Friend above knew her and her
heart. She knew with what tender love and reverence she had looked up to
her from childhood, and she now confided the love in her heart to her who
had shown herself gracious a thousand times when she raised her soul to
her in prayer.