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Soon afterwards he married; and by his wife, Anna Ilse Moritzen, had ten children, four of whom died in infancy. Of the others, two a brother and a sister lived to distinguish themselves by their intellectual power; and all true lovers of science will regard with reverence the memories of William and Caroline Herschel. Frederick William Herschel was born on the 15th of November 1738.
He loves her, too, and he scarcely seeks to hide it. And Count Pappenheim, who is of kin to the emperor, worships her beauty." "The lady must be Psyche herself," said John. But not knowing who Psyche was, they shook their heads. "And that is not all," continued Ilse. "A Prussian prince was here, a fine and gallant man, tall and young. He, too, is at the feet of the lovely Mademoiselle Julie.
"But don't we make 'em run!" called out Tim, glancing over his shoulder. "Them fellers was made to travel, and if they'd only throw down their guns and take up a sprig of the shillaleh, like an ilegant gintleman should do, I wouldn't ax better fun than to jine in wid 'em and tach 'em a few scientific tricks, such as can be got in Tipperary and nowhere ilse Worrah!
"A skin the tint of the young rose, eyes like the dawn on a summer morning, hair a shower of the finest spun silk, and a walk like that of a young goddess." "It's beautiful, but it doesn't describe; what was the color of her hair and eyes?" "I don't know. They dazzled me so much that I merely remember their loveliness and glory." "It can't be!" exclaimed Ilse, who did not walk in Elysian paths.
But when our old Ilse was called, who sat on a bench behind, so that we had not seen her, the strength wherewith the Lord had gifted her was again at an end, and she repeated the words of our Saviour, "He that eateth bread with me hath lift up his heel against me": and she held fast by my chair.
"Why, me dear Dugald, it's never you!" exclaimed Mrs Gilmour as her brother let go Bob and caught both her outstretched hands in his, giving them a fraternal grip. "Sure, is it yoursilf, or somebody ilse?" "Mesilf, Polly, sure enough," replied he in a deep baritone voice, that resembled Bob's, but had a very slight suspicion of the Irish brogue in it like her own.
When Dame Ilse and her daughter returned they wondered to find the house door shut, and Master Peter nowhere to be seen. They knocked and called, but nothing stirred within but the house cat, and at last the blacksmith had to be fetched to open the door. Then the house was searched from garret to cellar, but no Master Peter was to be found.
A new thought was slowly making its way into his stolid brain. A man might have a madness, and be none the worse for it. Well, every one to his own madness. John had heard from Ilse that Julie walked on the terrace twice every day, once in the morning and once in the afternoon, and he strove so to arrange his work that he might see her again that afternoon.
Oh, no, the Prince of Auersperg can never punish her!" John laughed. "This French spy seems more dangerous as a captive than free," he said. "That is so," said Ilse, seriously. "If Prince Karl of Auersperg, powerful as he is, were disposed to punish her, the others would not let him." "What others?" "The young Count Kratzek, the relative of the prince.
And His Highness might search Europe and not find a woman more beautiful. She has the most wonderful hair, pure gold, with little touches of copper, when the firelight or the sunlight is deep upon it, and when loosed it falls to her knees. I have seen it." "And marvelous blue eyes," said Ilse. "A dark blue like the waters of our mountain lakes.
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