The candidate came several times daily to see the ladies. Sometimes in a quiet manner he helped a little in nursing. Sometimes he spoke a few well-chosen words of comfort to the old lady. He went in and out of all the houses where there were sick and wounded, offered spiritual consolation, and was unwearied in assisting and directing in the hospitals, so that he won the general respect and gratitude of all the inhabitants of Langensalza, and all the relatives of the wounded. Madame von Wendenstein was full of his praise, and took every opportunity of showing her esteem and gratitude to the young clergyman. Helena kept aloof from her cousin, and he did not seek her more than every-day intercourse required. But his eyes often rested on her with a strange expression, and an evil glance darted from them when he saw the young girl sitting beside the bed of the wounded officer, when her whole soul lay in her eyes, and the feelings of her heart were warmly reflected in her features; but no word, no sign betrayed that he guessed what had taken place in solitude and silence. Late in the afternoon of one of the last days of July Madame von Wendenstein sat, with her daughter, in her room. The window was wide open to admit the cooler air that streamed in as the day declined. The door of the sick-room stood open, and Helena sat by the bedside, attentively watching the quiet slumberer as he lay with a smiling expression of happiness on his pale features. The candidate sat with the ladies in his faultless black dress, a white necktie of dazzling purity carefully arranged around his neck, and his hair brushed smoothly down on each side of his forehead. He spoke in a low voice as he told Madame von Wendenstein of the other sufferers whom he had visited. "You have chosen a beautiful calling," said the old lady, smiling kindly on the young clergyman; "in such times as these especially, it must be a glorious satisfaction to bear the divine words of comfort to sufferers, and to raise and refresh their souls amidst bodily pain." "But in such times as these," said the candidate, in a humble voice, casting his eyes to the ground, "I feel doubly what an unworthy instrument I am in the hand of Providence; when I speak to sufferers who have already stretched out their hands to eternity, who already behold the glories of a future world, I often ask myself whether I am worthy to tell them of their Lord, and I tremble beneath the weight of my office. But," he continued, folding his hands together, "the power of the divine word gives strength even to an unworthy instrument to work mightily; and I can say with joy that many a heart in health devoted to the world, has through my means, on the brink of eternity, received the faith, and obtained salvation." "How many families will be grateful to you!" said Madame von Wendenstein warmly, as she held out her hand to him.