Nothing was changed in the little room; the same monastic simplicity reigned within it; the whitewashed walls, the huge tiled stove, the carved crucifix in the corner, even the old pine furniture, were all the same; time had left them unchanged. Not so their owner. The pastor had grown much older. Whilst his brother, who was in fact several years his junior, still preserved his youthful freshness and vigour, the priest produced the impression of old age. His form was bent, his face furrowed with wrinkles, his hair white, but the same mild lustre shone in the eyes which at times made one forget the weariness and age evident in the man. "What is the matter, your reverence?" asked Michael, surprised. "The whole house is astir, and old Katrin is so agitated that she ran away without answering me." "We are to have an unexpected visit," replied Valentin,--"a distinguished guest for whom some preparation is necessary. Scarcely had you and Hans departed when a messenger arrived with a note from Countess Steinrück,--she will be here in a couple of hours." The young man, who was just about to take a seat, paused in amazement. "Countess Steinrück? What can she want here in Saint Michael?" "To visit the church. The Countess is very pious, and never fails to do so when she is at the castle. Moreover, our church was endowed by her family, and owes much to her personally. She visits her husband's grave almost every year, and always comes here when she does so." "Is she coming alone?" The question was asked in an agitated tone, in strong contrast to the priest's quiet reply. "No; her daughter is coming too, and the necessary attendants. You must resign the guest-chamber for to-day, Michael. The double drive over the mountains would be too fatiguing for the ladies; they will stay overnight, and accept the simple hospitality of the parsonage. I spoke with the sacristan about a room for you; he will have one ready for you to occupy until to-morrow." Michael at first made no reply; he walked to the window and stood with folded arms looking out. At last, after a long pause, he said, in an undertone, "I wish I had gone home." "Why? Because these ladies bear the name of Steinrück, and you have chosen to outlaw, to put beyond the pale of your sympathy, all of that name? How often have I entreated you to rid yourself of this unchristian hatred!" "Hatred, do you call it?" the young man asked, in a voice that trembled slightly. "What else is it? When you told me the other day of your meeting with your grandfather, I saw how stubborn and implacable you still were, and now you extend your ill feeling to the Count's innocent relatives, who have shown you nothing but kindness. You, to be sure, told me nothing of your acquaintance with them, but Hans was more communicative. He is most enthusiastic about the young Countess." "For as long as he can see her. As soon as we return to town he will forget all about her. It is his fashion."