“Gladly, dearest,” replied the other.  “But it is really quite time to say ‘good-morning."’

“And you have kept awake so long!” replied Eva compassionately, as she threw her arms gratefully around her sister’s neck, kissed her tenderly, and then pressed her hot cheek to hers.

“What is this?” cried Els, with sincere anxiety.  “Are you hurt, child?  Surely you are weeping?”

“No, no,” was the reply.  “I am only—­I only thought that I had adorned myself, decked myself out with idle finery, although I know how many poor people are starving in want and misery, and how much more pleasing in the sight of the Lord is the grey robe of the cloistered nun.  I could scarcely leave the hall in my overweening pleasure, and yet it would have beseemed me far better to share the sufferings of the crucified Saviour.”

“But, child,” replied Els, striving to soothe her sister, “how often I have heard from you and our aunt, the abbess, that no one was so cheerful and so glad to witness the enjoyment of human beings and animals as your St. Francis!”

“He—­he!” groaned Eva, “he who attained the highest goal, who heard the voice of the Lord wherever he listened; he who chose poverty as his beloved bride, who scorned show and parade and the trappings of wealth, as he disdained earthly love; he who celebrated in song the love of the soul glowing for the highest things, as no troubadour could do—­oh, how ardently he knew how to love, but to love the things which do not belong to this world!”

Els longed to ask what Eva knew about the ardent fire of love; but she restrained herself, darkened the bed as well as she could with the movable curtain which hung from the ceiling on both sides above the double couch, and said:  “Be sensible, child, and put aside such thoughts.  How loudly the birds are twittering outside!  If our father is obliged to breakfast alone there may be a storm, and I should be glad to have an hour’s nap.  You need slumber, too.  Dancing is tiresome.  Shut your eyes and sleep as long as you can.  I’ll be as quiet as a mouse while I am dressing.”

As she spoke she turned away from her sister and no longer resisted the sleep which soon closed her weary eyes.

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IN THE FIRE OF THE FORGE

A ROMANCE OF OLD NUREMBERG

By Georg Ebers

Volume 2.

CHAPTER V.

As her father had ordered the servants not to disturb the young girls, Els did not wake till the sun was high in the heavens.  Eva’s place at her side was empty.  She had already left the room.  For the first time it had been impossible to sleep even a few short moments, and when she heard from the neighbouring cloister the ringing of the little bell that summoned the nuns to prayers, she could stay in bed no longer.