He is always grieving me, and yet all day long I am thinking and caring about him.
Oh, my mother! it was in this room that I sat at your feet for the last time when, with your hand on my head, you prayed that Heaven might shield me from every sorrow.

Beloved mother, shield thy daughter against her own beating heart.

Strengthen me against him, his ensnaring levity, his daring mockery." Long did Sabine sit thus, communing with her guardian spirits.

Then wiping her eyes, she resolutely returned to count and arrange the table-linen.
Anton had got into bed, and was just going to put out his candle, when a loud knock was heard at the door, and the man he least expected stood before him--Herr von Fink himself, with his riding-whip, and his usual careless manner.

"Ah! in bed already!" said he, sitting astride on a chair close by.