"Of course, it is Josepha Freyer, from the gloomy house yonder."
"Freyer? A relative of the Freyer who played the Christ."
"A cousin; yes."
The old man was about to go to the girl's house to bring her mother.
"No, no," said the countess. "I will care for her. What induced the unfortunate girl to take such a step?"
"She was the Mary Magdalene in the last Passion!" whispered the old man. At the words the girl raised her head and burst into violent sobs.
"My child, what has happened!" asked the countess, gazing admiringly at the charming creature, who was as perfect a picture of the penitent Magdalene as any artist could create.
"Why don't you play the Magdalene this time?"
"Don't you know?" asked the girl, amazed that there was any human being still ignorant of her disgrace. "I am not permitted to play now--I am--I have"--she again burst with convulsive sobs and, clasping the countess' knees, cried: "Oh, let me die, I cannot bear it."
"She fell into error," said Gross, in reply to the lady's questioning glance. "A little boy was born last winter. Now she can no longer act, for only those who are pure and without reproach are permitted to take part in the Passion."