"I can do nothing that my husband would disapprove of, and I have never kept a secret from him," replied Ilse, seriously.
"I desire nothing that the strictest judgment could condemn," continued the other. "Your husband will be the first to know whatever I may be able to ascertain, and therefore I apply to you. Ah! not only on that account; I know no one whom I can trust. What I now tell you I have not learnt from my husband: he received the unfortunate parchment from Magister Knips, and he returned it to him."
"Is that the little Magister in our street?" inquired Ilse.
"The same. I must persuade him to produce the parchment again, or to tell me where it is to be found. But this is not the place to discuss this matter," she exclaimed, as the music ceased. "Situated as our husbands now are, I cannot visit you; it would be too painful for me, should I meet your husband, to feel his altered demeanor; but I wish for your advice, and beg of you to allow me to meet you at some other place."
"If Magister Knips is concerned in the matter," replied Ilse, with hesitation, "I would propose to you to come to the room of our landlord's daughter, Laura Hummel. We shall be undisturbed in her room, and she knows more of the Magister and his family than we do. But I fear we poor women can hardly accomplish much alone."
"I am determined to risk everything, in order to free my husband from the unworthy suspicion which threatens to be cast upon him. Prove yourself to be what you appear to me, and I will thank you on my knees."
She moved her hand convulsively, and then looked about her with an air of indifference.
"We shall meet to morrow," replied Ilse; "so far, at least, I can agree to your wishes."
They then settled the hour.
Thus the ladies separated. From behind the pillar Mrs. Struvelius once more gazed imploringly at Ilse with her large eyes; then both were lost in the throng of the departing ball-guests.