His father was an old man, and entitled to demand respect from his son.

He must endure from him what he would tolerate from no one else.

Nay, he again felt that it was a great happiness to be near the beloved one, from whom he had so long been parted; whatever separated him from his old father, must surely vanish into nothing, as soon as they looked into each other's eyes.
What a master in his trade, his father still was! No one else would have found it so easy to forge the steel coat of mail with the Medusa head in the centre.

He was not working alone here as he did at Richtberg; for Ulrich heard more than one hammer striking iron in the workshop.
Before touching the knocker, he looked into the open window.
A woman's tall figure was standing at the desk.

Her back was turned, and he saw only the round outline of the head, the long black braids, the plain dress, bordered with velvet, and the lace in the neck.