"So simple, and yet so noble!" she said.

She was a very romantic vergeress, and she told them at unsparing length the legend of the tabernacle, how the artist fell asleep in despair of winning his patron's daughter, and saw in a vision the master-work with the lily-like droop at top, which gained him her hand.

They did not realize till too late that it was all out of a novel of Georg Ebers's, but added to the regular fee for the church a gift worthy of an inedited legend.
Even then they had a pleasure in her enthusiasm rarely imparted by the Nuremberg manner.

They missed there the constant, sweet civility of Carlsbad, and found themselves falling flat in their endeavors for a little cordiality.

They indeed inspired with some kindness the old woman who showed them through that cemetery where Albert Durer and Hans Sachs and many other illustrious citizens lie buried under monumental brasses of such beauty: "That kings to have the like, might wish to die." But this must have been because they abandoned themselves so willingly to the fascination of the bronze skull on the tomb of a fourteenth-century patrician, which had the uncommon advantage of a lower jaw hinged to the upper.