It was certainly no Christian prayer and her
heart sank within her. When the doctor had ended the ceremony which for
all she knew might be an invocation of evil spirits, and entered the
house with his wife and child, she went up to him and without a moment's
indecision made the sign of the cross on his breast and another on the
curly head of the child. Melchior laughed at her but did not rebuff her.
Soon the travellers were seated about the neatly laid table in their own
house and Frau Schimmel had her reward in seeing Melchior enjoy the home-
made dishes. And little Zeno--for that was the name of the Court
apothecary's grandchild--drink the good milk and munch the butter cakes
which she had baked to celebrate their arrival. But the young wife
hardly tasted anything.
Did not the food please her? Perhaps she was accustomed in Italy to a
different way of cooking? "Other nations, other customs."
But who could feel annoyed with that heavenly creature?
Frau Schimmel was of the opinion that she had never seen any one to equal
her, and could not bear to take her eyes off her. Yet the appearance of
the wife of her old favorite filled her with forebodings, and suddenly,
though she was by no means superstitious or given to presentiments, she
seemed to see Frau Bianca--so the young Italian was called--lying on her
bier, a light veil over her, and a wreath of lilies-of-the-valley on her
raven hair.
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