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Whoever hath ought to give, and my dead mother used to say that: 'No one ever became a beggar by giving at the proper time." "And life is gladdened by what one gives to another," remarked Conrad Peutinger, the learned Augsburg city clerk, who valued his Padua title of doctor more than that of an imperial councillor. "It applies to all departments.
This, we supposed, would tend to her welfare and induce her to lead a regular, decorous life; but we were mistaken. In spite of her lameness, Kuni's restless nature drove her back to the highroad. Yet she would have been at liberty to remain in the convent as a lay sister without taking the vows." "My wife, too, had opened our house to her for Juliane's sake," added Doctor Peutinger.
Don't allow yourself to regret your generosity, friend Lienhard. "To you, if to any one, it gives daily proof of liberality in both learning and the affairs of life," Herr Wilibald assented. "If you will substitute 'God, our Lord, for 'destiny, I agree with you," observed the Abbot of St. AEgidius in Nuremberg. The portly old prelate nodded cordially to Dr. Peutinger as he spoke.
"Who has not heard of Juliane Peutinger, the youngest of humanists, but no longer one of the least eminent, who, when a child only four years old, addressed the Emperor Maximilian in excellent Latin.
I am also to thank you and give you very friendly remembrances in the name of Doctor Peutinger, of Augsburg, little Juliane's father. He will think of you as a mistress of your art, a noble, high-minded girl, and I I shall certainly do so."
But the Dominican had only half listened, and as many who wanted indulgences were crowding around his box, he interrupted Kuni by offering her a paper which he would make out in the name of the accursed Juliane Peutinger if he had heard correctly. Such cases seemed to be very familiar to him, but the price he asked was so large that the girl grew pale with terror.
It would be doing Lienhard a favour, she repeated to herself, if she should enter a convent, and she would rather have sought shelter in a lion's den than under the Peutinger roof. She had been informed the day before that the city clerk's wife was the mother of the child upon whom she had called down misfortune and death.
"They will not go so far," replied the abbot soothingly. "True, both the front and the back stairs are open to the Dominicans in Rome." "Yet where should humanism find more zealous friends than in that very place, among the heads of the Church?" asked Dr. Peutinger. "From the Tiber, I hope " Here he paused, for the new guest who had just entered the room attracted his attention also.
The latter had just beckoned Doctor Peutinger to his side, to examine with him the indulgence which he had found under the kerchief crossed over the sick girl's bosom.
Besides, the daughter of the vagabond with the mutilated tongue was born a few days after the death of little Fraulein Peutinger, and this circumstance, when Kuni knew it, seemed significant. Soon after meeting the vagrant pair she had listened to a conversation between two travelling scholars, and learned some strange things.
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