"No, Lambert, on that side"--she at the same time inclined her large head toward the chamber--"so far it goes quite well. The girl is a brave child, and will to-morrow again stand firm in her shoes. If we women should at once discover your stupidities we would have much to do." Lambert seized the hand of the kind woman. Tears stood in his eyes. Aunt Ursul did not know how it happened, but her eyelashes also became moist. She breathed deeply two or three times, and said: "You ought to be ashamed, Lambert. You really have a heart like a young chicken, and now it occurs to me that I have eaten nothing the whole day. Give me a piece of bread and some ham, or whatever you have, and if there is yet a swallow of rum in the flask it won't do any hurt--but add to it two-thirds water. A well-behaved person will not otherwise drink the fiery stuff. And now we will once have a little rational talk, Lambert. We need not be in a hurry. The girl sleeps so soundly that she will not wake under six hours." Lambert had taken what was wanted out of the cupboard. Aunt Ursul moved her chair to the table, and while she was eating heartily, said: "Do you know, Lambert, that the girl is a treasure?" Lambert bowed. "And that neither you, nor Conrad, nor any man in this earthly vale of tears, is good enough for the maiden?" Lambert's eyes said: "Yes." "I have now for the first time carefully looked at her," said Aunt Ursul; "as she lay there, white and bloody, like the doves this morning. There is not one false or distorted line in her lovely face. Everything is entire purity and innocence, as though the Lord God had opened a window in heaven and sent her forth upon the earth. And now to think that such a lovely angel is destined to all the suffering and anguish which is our inheritance from our mother Eve--Good God, it is dreadful! Since, rightly considered, Lambert, you cannot help it, as you did not make the world, and are all in all a good man, Lambert--yes, a right good man--what Aunt Ursul can do to smooth the way to your happiness that she will do with all her heart. Yes, surely, Lambert, that she will." "I thank you, aunt," replied Lambert. "I can truly say that I have always been persuaded of your good will, and have constantly reckoned on you, but I am afraid that now nobody can any longer help us. How shall I stand with her before God's altar when I know that my brother begrudges me my happiness? Even could I do so, Catherine could not bear the thought that it is she on whose account Conrad is irreconcilably angry. She knows how I have loved the young man--how I still love him. I could shed my blood for him, and how did he renounce us even now--even now?" Lambert supported his forehead with his hand. On Aunt Ursul's rough face there also lay a deep, helpless sadness. She wished to say something comforting to Lambert, but found nothing to say. Lambert proceeded: