But her search, undoubtedly, had proved fruitless, for Magde's ornaments
were made almost entirely of bronze.
Seated in a chair with her hand resting upon the cradle, Magde was now
sleeping soundly.
She had been called, probably, while she was engaged in assorting her
little treasures, to attend to the wants of her infant, and overcome by
fatigue had unwillingly submitted to the power of that consoler of human
grief, sleep. Her face was turned towards the window, and the moonlight
illumined her entire figure, which was rendered more prominent by the
fact that the cradle stood in the centre of the room. She was still
attired in the garments she had borrowed, and her brown hair, fell in
two long braids over her loose white sleeves, from whence they dropped
upon the face of the sleeping child, while Magde's elbow was resting
upon the little pillow.
"What a picture for a painter!" thought Gottlieb. "Young Lonner is not
the most miserable of men, by my faith; but I know one who at some
future time will look much prettier in that position!"
The dull sound of a horse's hoofs, aroused him from his reveries.
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