two old women sat in eager talk; and if the lady were thin and sickly and
the craftsman's mother stout and sturdy, yet were there many points of
resemblance between them. Both, for certain, loved to rule, and as I
watched them, seeing each shoot out her nether lip if the other spoke a
word to cross her, I found it right good sport; but at the same time I
was amazed to hear how truly old Dame Pernhart understood and spoke of
Ann. I had indeed hitherto seen many a thing in my friend with other
eyes, and yet I could not accuse the good woman of injustice, or deny
that the coppersmith's step-daughter, from knowing me and from keeping
company with us, had grown up with manners and desires unlike those of
ever another clerk's or even a craftsman's daughter.

Albeit she strove to hide her deep discomfort, the old woman said, she
could by no means succeed. A household was a body, and any member of it
who could not be content with its ways was ill at ease with the rest, and
made it hard for them to do it such service and pleasure as they would
fain do. Ann fulfilled her every duty, down to the very least of them,
by reason that she had a steadfast spirit and great dominion over
herself; but she got small thanks, and by her own fault, inasmuch as she
did it joylessly. To look for bright cheer from her was to seek grapes
on a birch-tree; and whereas the grandmother had till lately hoped to
find in this gentle maid one who might fill the place of her who was no
more, she could now only wish that she might find some other home.

To all this my aunt agreed, and presently, when Pernhart came in, clad in
his holiday garb--a goodly man and well fitted for his new dignity, Aunt
Jacoba bid me go look out for Ann. I saw that she desired my absence
that she might deal alone with the mother and son, so I hastily departed
and stayed in the upper chambers with the children till I caught sight of
Ann and her mother coming towards the house. I ran down to meet them and