“Hold thou thy clattering tongue,” she commanded; and for the space of two minutes not a word was spoken in the room. The whirring of the busy wheels alone disturbed the quiet. The entrance of Frieda Bergen fortunately relieved the situation of its tensity. The girl came into the room bearing on her head a bundle of flax, which she deposited before Mother Werther. “This I brought from the station, whither I went with Mother Schmidt,” she said. “Thou shouldst not have been allowed to go to the railroad,” said Mother Kaufmann. “But what didst thou see there?” “A train came by while I stood on the platform. I looked through one of the windows and saw silken-cushioned seats, and mirrors that showed gayly dressed men and women. There was also a car in which were dining-tables. Black men waited on women, who laughed and talked with men. Some of the women wore on their fingers jewels that looked like sparkling glass.” The wheels had all stopped. Every “mother” in the room was listening. “The sparkling glass that thou sawest was what is called a diamond,” said Gretchen Schneider. “Jewels are worn by those who have vanity in their souls.” “Truly, the rings were very beautiful,” said Frieda Bergen. “Thou wert ever a foolish maid,” said Mother Schneider, in a tone of severe reproof. “Put out of thy thoughts what thou hast seen to-day. I shall have the Herr Doktor forbid thee from going to the station.” “Nay, Sister Schneider, scold not Frieda. She hath done no harm,” said Mother Werther. “It should not hurt her to get a glimpse of the vanities of the world, for she is well grounded in the faith of Zanah. She knoweth that the costly gauds are but the playthings of sin-ridden women.” Standing in the middle of the room, Frieda Bergen shook her head doubtfully. “Truly, those worldly ones appeared happy,” she said. “There were some that read books and leaned back on velvet cushions. They looked as if they never worked. Some of the women were beautiful. They wore no caps upon their hair. Their frocks were not all alike, as they are here in Zanah.” “See, the daughter of Zanah is touched by the temptations of the world,” said Mother Schneider. “We have heard enough. Begin thy work, Frieda Bergen.” “If what I hear is true, the elders should discipline Frieda,” said Mother Kaufmann, with a sneer. “It hath come to my ears that she hath often spoken with Joseph Hoff.” Frieda Bergen bent her head over her work. A telltale blush overspread her delicate skin, and her hand trembled as she took up her distaff. “Frieda Bergen hath the right to love Joseph Hoff if she chooseth,” said Mother Werther, rising from her chair and walking the length of the room to the place where the girl sat. “Love may be a foolish thing in the eyes of Zanah, but it bringeth its reward.” “Thou art teaching heresy, Sister Werther,” said Mother Schneider. “If the elders knew of thy heterodoxy thou wouldst have to do penance through some hard task.”