Late one evening the friendly Druda came out with Bertha on one of the lofty watch-towers of the castle, where over their heads was only the clear azure of heaven, and the night air was filled with fragrance from the snow-white flowers. The Druda then fixed her eyes on the starry sky; and, by her looks and gestures, it seemed to the damsel as if her mysterious companion not only saw the stars, but listened to exquisite melody. At last Bertha broke the long pause, and said,--“Dearest lady, you listen watchfully, as if you heard the circling gold rings in your great hall, and yet all is silent!” “Do I not hear them?” said the Druda, with a smile of rapture. “To you, indeed, my dear child, all is silent. But even as the golden circles sometimes revolve in the hall beneath, so in the beaming boundless chambers of heaven are ever moving those blessed spheres which we call the stars, and sound so beauteously, that all other music compared with them is discord, even were it the loveliest that has ever been heard on earth. Only the chosen votary whose heart and feelings are in unison with those sounds may hear them; others must be content to believe and wonder; or sometimes, for a transient space, they are visited by such melody in their dreams.” The damsel now looked at her aunt with a fixed and anxious gaze; for she had of late felt more desire to learn the mysterious arts of which she had heard so much, than of that awe with which they had before inspired her. She was therefore now ready to beg that the Lady Minnatrost would initiate her in the true science of those wonders by which she was surrounded. Perceiving her design, however, the lady cast on her a look, at which she recoiled and trembled. “Foolish child,” said she, in a severe tone; “of what art thou now dreaming? Think’st thou that, because these mysteries have contributed to thy entertainment, they are in truth no more than a game which the young and unexperienced may play at? The chosen votary, on whom such gifts are conferred by Providence, must bear with her lot as she best can, for such knowledge is often a cause of fearful sufferings. Think’st thou, that I have always lived in this castle? that I have always been thus lonely, and never borne my share in the pleasures of the world? Alas! it is far otherwise. I once led a happy life among my fellow-mortals; but the science conferred on me disturbed my peace, though that was indeed no fault of mine. Now I am called Minnatrost, and truly, as the name imports, I have consolation for the grief of others; but, alas! none for my own sorrows.” Thereupon the lady began to weep, and, as if wearied, leaned her head on the damsel’s bosom, whose heart was deeply moved; for she had before only seen her wonderful aunt in the mood of cheerfulness and serenity. Now she discovered that the Druda had experienced, like others, her share of joy and suffering in this world; she embraced her fervently, and