Malfalconnet glanced significantly toward Martina, and, while offering Barbara a goblet of lemonade, said, “There is candied lemon and other seasoning in it, so it will probably suit your taste, exacting beauty, since you appear to dislike what is pure.”

“Only when poison is mixed with it,” she answered quickly, tossing her head arrogantly.  Then, controlling herself, she added in an explanatory tone:  “In this case, Baron, your far-famed penetration deceived you.  It gave me more pain than you will believe to reject the friendly advances of this lovely child, but her father is the head of the Lutheran heresy here, and the almoner——­”

“Then that certainly alters the case,” the other interrupted.  “Where the Holy Inquisition threatens, I should be capable of denying a friend thrice ere the cock crew.  But what a number of charming young faces there are on this Lindenplatz!  Here one can understand why Ratisbon, like the French Arles, is famed for the beauty of her daughters.  It was not easy for you to earn the reputation of the greatest beauty here.  You have also gained that of the most cruel one.  You make me feel it.  But if you wish to cast into oblivion the poisoned cup proffered just now, do me the favour to trust yourself to my guidance in the next dance.”

“Impossible,” answered Barbara firmly.  “If I were really cruel, I would yield to your skill in tempting, and render you the base betrayer of the greatest and noblest of masters.”

“Does not every one who gazes at your beauty or listens to your song become such a monster, at least in thought?” asked the baron gaily.  “Are you really so inexorable about the dance?”

“As this statue,” Barbara answered with mirthful resolution, pointing to a plaster figure which was intended to represent the goddess Flora or the month of May.  “But let us stay here a few minutes longer, though only as spectators.”

Barbara expressed this wish because a group of young gentlemen, who had always been among those who sought her most eagerly for a partner at the dances in the New Scales, had attracted her attention.  They were engaged in an animated discussion, which from their glances and gestures evidently concerned Barbara.

Bernhard Trainer, the tall son of an old and wealthy family, who loved Martina Hiltner, and had been incensed by Barbara’s treatment of her, seemed to gain his point, and when the city pipers began to play again, all of them—­probably a dozen in number—­passed by her arm-in-arm in couples, with their eyes studiously fixed upon the opposite side of the dancing floor.

Barbara could entertain no doubt that this insulting act was intended to wound her.  The “little castle,” as it was called in Prebrunn, owned by Bernhard Trainer’s family, was near the bishop’s house which she occupied.  Therefore the Trainers had probably heard more than others about the visits she received.  Or did the gentlemen consider that she deserved punishment for not treating Martina more kindly?