A NOBLE NAME 
 
 OB 
 
 DONNINGHAUSEN 
 
 BY 
 
 CLAIRE VON GLUMEB 
 
 TRANSLATED BY 
 
 MBS. A. L. WISTER 
 
 PHILADELPHIA: 
 J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY. 
 
 1902
 
 Copyright, 1882, by J. B. LIPTTNCOTT A Oat
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER PAD! 
 
 I. " ALL THB WORLD'S A STAGE" ... 7 
 
 II. DISAPPOINTED ASPIRATIONS . . . . 19 
 
 III. A CRISIS 32 
 
 IV. FUTURE PLANS DECIDED .... 44 
 
 V. AT DONNINGHAUSEN 61 
 
 VI. THE FREIHERR'S PRINCIPLES ... 60 
 
 VII. JOHANNA TO LUDWIG 70 
 
 VIII. CHRISTMAS AT DONNINGHAUSEN ... 79 
 
 IX. NEW YEAR'S EVE 91 
 
 X. "THAT BLASE LIEUTENANT" . . . 104 
 
 XI. RECOVERY 115 
 
 XII. CELA N 'ENGAGE 1 RIEN '. 126 
 
 XIII. JOHANNA TO LUDWIG 139 
 
 XIV. AN UNEXPECTED RETURN .... 152 
 
 XV. A BIRTHDAY FETE 163 
 
 XVI. A BETROTHAL 180 
 
 XVII. JOHANNA TO LUDWIQ 188 
 
 XVIII. TANNHAGEN 205 
 
 XIX. PROFESSIONAL ENTHUSIASM .... 216 
 
 XX. AN EQUESTRIAN ARTIST .... 225 
 
 XXI. SHIPWRECK 235 
 
 XXII. DONNINGHAUSEN OBSTINACY .... 247 
 
 XXIII. THE FREIHERR ASSERTS HIS AUTHORITY . 260 
 
 XXIV. DR. URBAN WOLF 266 
 
 XXV. A WAGER AND AN ADVISER . . . 278 
 
 XXVI. DR. STEIN'S SCHEME ... .285 
 
 XXVII. THE FREIHERR'S WEAKNESS is PAST . . 298 
 
 XXVIII. THE TERRACE-COTTAGE 807 
 
 XXIX. CHANGES AT DONNINGHAUSEN . . . 811 
 
 XXX. AN OLD FRIEND ONCE MORE. . . . 325 
 
 XXXI. THE TRUTH AT LAST 836 
 
 XXXII. Two YEARS AFTERWARD . . , .862 
 
 * 6 
 
 2129680
 
 A NOBLE NAME; 
 
 OE, 
 
 DONNIKGHATJSEK 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 " ALL THE WORLD'S A STAGE." 
 
 
 
 AT the window of a luxuriously-furnished dressing-room 
 a young girl was seated sewing, murmuring verses the while to 
 herself with an absorbed air. All around her lay various 
 etuflFs, ribbons, and laces, while standing upon a footstool at 
 a toilet-table immediately behind her a strikingly beautiful 
 child, five or six years old, was twisting gay ribbons about 
 her head and arms, finally throwing around her shoulders a 
 blue satin sash and looking at herself in the glass with im- 
 mense satisfaction. 
 
 " Lisbeth, what are you doing ?" a sharp voice suddenly 
 asked, and from between the curtains of the portiere of the 
 door of the adjoining sleeping-room came a fair, pretty 
 woman in an evident ill humour. 
 
 " Mamma 1" the child exclaimed, and jumping hastily 
 down from the footstool, she entangled herself in her dra- 
 peries and fell. Her mother hurried towards her with a 
 scream, but the young girl had already flown to the little 
 one's assistance. 
 
 7
 
 8 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 " I haven't hurt myself," the child immediately declared, 
 looking up beseechingly at her mother, who, nevertheless, 
 seized her impatiently by the arm and tore off the sash from 
 her shoulders. "AJ1 this beautiful ribbon crushed and 
 spoiled 1" she said, crossly. " If you can take no better care 
 of Lisbeth, my dear Johanna, the child must stay with Lina. 
 Go, go to the nursery, and don't disturb me again to-day," she 
 added, turning to the little girl ; and then, sitting down before 
 the dressing-table, she began to arrange her abundant fair 
 hair. 
 
 Lisbeth went to Johanna and seized her hand. " Don't 
 be vexed with Lisbeth, mamma," the young girl entreated. 
 " She is not to blame. I was not attending to her ; I was 
 going over my part." 
 
 " If you do not know it perfectly by this time you had 
 better give it up," the other said, with a slight shrug of her 
 shoulders. " Make up your mind to do so, and I will give it 
 to Fraulein Dornbach. She can easily learn those few words 
 before to-morrow evening." 
 
 " Oh, no ! let me try," the young girl exclaimed. " I 
 have just said them without stumbling. And my dress is 
 nearly finished. I wanted to ask you " 
 
 " Well ?" the other asked, when Johanna hesitated. 
 
 " To let me go to the theatre to-night," she replied, without 
 looking up. 
 
 " What 1 again ? You went only a couple of days ago." 
 
 " Yes, but I should so like to see papa as Egmont, and " 
 
 She hesitated again and blushed. " And you as Clarchen" 
 was what she meant to add, knowing that this addition would 
 have secured her the desired enjoyment; but her innate in- 
 tegrity triumphed ; her step-mother's acting was distasteful 
 to her, and she suppressed the end of her sentence. 
 
 With a degree of artistic instinct the lady divined her 
 step-daughter's thoughts. " You had better study your
 
 "ALL THE WORLD'S A STAGE." 9 
 
 part," she said, rising. " And, besides, I want you to trim 
 my lace overdress with fresh ribbons ; you will have too much 
 to do to-morrow to attend to it." 
 
 " There comes papa !" exclaimed Lisbeth, who had gone 
 to the window and was looking out. " He is just crossing 
 the street." And she was hurrying out of the room, when her 
 mother called her back. 
 
 " Stay where you are 1" she said. " You must not disturb 
 papa now ; we are just going to the theatre. My hat and 
 wrap, Johanna, and my gloves ; be quick, be quick !" And 
 beginning to sing ' Joyous and sorrowing,' with a languish- 
 ing expression she took from her step-daughter the articles 
 brought to her and left the room. 
 
 Johanna sat down and went on with her sewing. She 
 heard her father's step in the anteroom, heard his sonorous 
 voice. How many would be delighted, enthralled, inspired 
 by that voice this evening ! She alone, his most enthusiastic, 
 rapt admirer, could not enjoy it. Tears rose to her eyes and 
 dropped unheeded upon her busy hands. 
 
 " Tell me a story," Lisbeth begged, standing beside her 
 sister at the window. " Oh, you are crying !" she added dis- 
 tressed as she looked round. " What is the matter ?" 
 
 " Nothing, darling," Johanna replied, hastily wiping her 
 eyes. " What shall I tell you ? Cinderella, or Snowdrop 
 and the Dwarfs ?" 
 
 " No, no ! nothing about bad step-mothers," the little girl 
 exclaimed ; and then, with her eyes opened to their widest 
 extent, she went on : " Only think, Lina says that mamma 
 is a step-mother, so stupid of her, my dear pretty mamma. 
 Friedrich laughed at her, and told her it was not true ; but 
 then he is just as stupid himself, for he told her you were not 
 my sister, only an adopted child, and I won't have it ; you 
 shall be my sister I" 
 
 She stamped her little foot. Johanna took her in her arms.
 
 10 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 " Hush, darling; I am really your sister," she said, stroking; 
 the little curly head. 
 
 " Then why were you not always with me ?" Lisbeth went 
 on, pettishly. "All the sisters I know are always to- 
 gether." 
 
 " I was far away from here, at boarding-school," Johanna 
 replied. " Papa sent me there when my poor dear mother 
 died, and he did not know what to do with me. He travelled 
 about from one town to another ; and then he married your 
 mamma, and then you were born, and he has grown very 
 famous. I think he had almost forgotten me " 
 
 Here old Lina, Lisbeth's former nurse, entered. 
 
 " Fraulein, a gentleman wishes to see you," she said, hand- 
 ing Johanna a card. 
 
 " Dr. Ludwig Werner," the girl read, and started up with 
 a joyous exclamation. " Uncle, dear uncle !" she cried, and 
 hurried into the antechamber, where, however, instead of the 
 old gentleman whom she had expected to see, she was met by a 
 young man. 
 
 " Johanna 1" he exclaimed, with evident emotion, and he 
 would have clasped her in his arms, but she retreated and 
 only gave him her hand. He laughed, half confusedly, half 
 derisively. 
 
 " It is you I" she said, and her voice, too, trembled. " I 
 thought it was your father. Pray come in." 
 
 She led the way to the drawing-room. Lina, who was 
 standing holding Lisbeth by the hand at the dressing-room 
 door, looked after her in surprise. How could Fraulein Jo- 
 hanna receive so familiarly a young man who paid visits in a 
 shooting-jacket and shabby crush hat? 
 
 He himself became conscious of the contrast that he pre- 
 sented to his surroundings as soon as he entered the drawing- 
 room. As he looked about him in the luxurious apartment, 
 now lit up by the last rays of the September sun, all trace of
 
 "ALL THE WORLD'S A STAGE," H 
 
 tenderness vanished from his face, leaving there only the cyni- 
 cal expression which Johanna knew so well. 
 
 "And this is now your home," he said. "I begin to un- 
 derstand, I have not been able to do so hitherto. And you 
 yourself, are you as changed as your surroundings ?" 
 
 He had stepped out upon the balcony with her, and as ha 
 spoke looked at her fixedly. There was no change in the 
 grave unembarrassed expression of the girl's large gray eyes 
 as she returned his gaze. 
 
 " What have you been unable to understand ?" she asked. 
 
 " How you could leave us and come hither to this 
 house- " 
 
 "To my father's house?" she interrupted him, and her 
 eyes flashed. " Let me tell you how it happened," she went 
 on more gently, " and you will easily comprehend." 
 
 They stood leaning against the balustrade of the balcony. 
 The shady little garden beneath them, the golden light of 
 evening streaming f*om the western sky awakened the same 
 memory in each, but Johanna alone gave it utterance. "Do 
 YOU remember," she asked, " how we stood at your garden 
 wicket the evening before you left Lindenbad and watched 
 the setting sun ? It was not quite two years ago, and yet 
 how much has happened since then 1 you have made a home 
 both in Paris and in London." 
 
 " A home !" he interrupted her ; " no, Johanna, not for a 
 moment. I worked hard in London and Paris, I studied day 
 and night, looking neither to the right nor to the left, for 
 I had but one aim, one desire, to return to my home well 
 skilled in my profession. I may have become a skilful 
 physician, but my home is desolate, my mother dead, you 
 here." 
 
 " Your dear mother 1" Johanna whispered, and her eyes 
 filled with tears. He did not see them. 
 
 " If I had been at home you should not have gone," he
 
 12 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 went on ; " but my father has grown to be a weak old man, 
 and my mother was enfeebled by illness before her death, or 
 she would have kept her promise better." 
 
 " Do you mean the promise that she made to my dying 
 mother ?" Johanna asked. " She kept that perfectly." 
 
 " She let you come here to this step-mother 1" Ludwig ex- 
 claimed, and his lips quivered, as they always did when he 
 controlled his indignation. 
 
 " She could not but let me ; I wanted to come, and my 
 father wanted me again." 
 
 " So suddenly ?" Ludwig interposed. " Since your mother's 
 death he had not apparently given you a thought. My father's 
 house was your home, your holidays were spent with us, you 
 came to us when you left boarding-school ; you belong to us, 
 and to us only ! Your father has his fame, his luxury, his 
 wife, the woman who was your mother's death " 
 
 " Ludwig I" Johanna interrupted him reprovingly. 
 
 He coloured. " It is the truth, and you are old enough to 
 know it," he said, sullenly. " You do know it, but would 
 not for worlds acknowledge it ! Deceit falsehood hypocrisy 
 everywhere. In your case I suppose it would be called filial 
 piety." 
 
 He threw himself into the nearest chair and frowned darkly. 
 
 " Hard and unjust as ever," Johanna exclaimed, and her 
 voice trembled. 
 
 " As ever ?" he repeated. " You forget : formerly you 
 trusted to my judgment, you saw with my eyes and followed 
 willingly where I led." 
 
 " Possibly," said Johanna ; " but since then I have learned 
 to see with my own eyes, and to walk alone. It was high 
 time : I am no longer a child." 
 
 She was right ; Ludwig reflected that she must be nearly 
 twenty years old, although she looked scarcely sixteen, so 
 immature was her slender figure, so youthful the pale face
 
 "ALL THE WORLD'S A STAGE." 13 
 
 that looked dreamily into the world from beneath a luxuriance 
 of brown braids. 
 
 " Well, let bygones be bygones," he rejoined with bitter- 
 ness. " I may surely be allowed to ask what snatched you 
 from us so suddenly. You were going to tell me." 
 
 Johanna seated herself opposite him. " If I only knew 
 how to tell you, how to convince you that I could not do 
 otherwise," she said. " From the expressions you have let 
 fall you seem to me to think that I was influenced by vanity, 
 love of pleasure, and a desire for luxury. Your sister accused 
 me of the same motives." 
 
 " Let that go ; what is Mathilde to us ? Go on 1" Ludwig 
 interposed, impatiently. 
 
 Johanna obeyed ; the dictatorial tone to which she had 
 submitted for so long exercised its old influence upon her. 
 
 " You went away in the autumn," she began ; " the winter 
 passed as peacefully as usual, and summer brought the usual 
 throng of guests to the baths. Suddenly we heard that my 
 father was starring in Weimar. One of our friends took me 
 to the first performance. When we arrived it was too late to 
 see my father before the play, and so I sat in the corner of 
 our box in trembling expectation of beholding him after 
 nearly eight years " 
 
 "Eight years! a tender parent 1" Ludwig interrupted; 
 she paid him no heed. 
 
 " But it was not my father whom I saw," she went on with 
 increasing agitation : " it was Hamlet. I thought I knew the 
 play, but what heights and depths were disclosed to me by this 
 representation ! This was no acting, it was actual life : suffer- 
 ing dcubt despair. I sat trembling as if from a fever-fit, 
 and after the performance I hastened to him. I do not know 
 what I said to him, but my enthusiasm touched and delighted 
 him. He kept me with him at first only during his stay in 
 Weimar, afterwards for always. He went with me to Linden- 
 
 2
 
 14 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 bad to demand me of my foster-parents, and they thought it 
 but natural that he should do so." 
 
 " Yes, so my mother wrote me," said Ludwig, " in the last 
 letter I had from her before she was taken ill." 
 
 " I had no idea how ill she was," the young girl whispered, 
 " or I should not have left her." 
 
 He made no rejoinder ; his expression, as he gazed moodily 
 Upon the ground, grew darker still. 
 
 After a pause, Johanna said, " I wrote to you then ; why 
 did you not answer me ?" 
 
 " I could not," he replied. " Amid all your grief at my 
 mother's death there was a tone of relief in your letter." 
 
 " There was," said Johanna. " It is not in vain that I am 
 the child of a great artist. The revelations he makes to me of 
 the world of art are like my native air to me. Unconsciously I 
 missed them and longed for them before I ever knew them." 
 
 " The intoxication has lasted, then ?" Ludwig asked, with 
 his bitterest smile. 
 
 " Intoxication !" she repeated. " You may call it so ; but 
 it is something better and nobler. I cannot define it, but its 
 effect upon me is the same, only intensified, if possible. 
 Everything within me that is dim and confused becomes 
 clear and distinct when my father interprets for me " 
 
 " Johanna !" Ludwig exclaimed, " you would not you 
 cannot go upon the stage 1" 
 
 " If I only could !" she cried, with sparkling eyes ; " if 1 
 only could !" 
 
 " You must not !" he said angrily, and seized her bands. 
 " Bethink yourself; a man can assert himself, isolate himself 
 upon the stage as elsewhere, a woman never ; she loses her 
 identity, degrades herself " 
 
 " There is no reason why she should do so," Johanna ex- 
 claimed, clasping tightly the hands which she had withdrawn 
 from his grasp. " The inspiration which animates and
 
 "ALL THE WORLD'S A STAGE." 15 
 
 strengthens a man can exalt a woman also above all petty, 
 low considerations. I have been here more than a year, and 
 have kept my eyes open. I have seen what has been mean 
 and paltry, nay, disgusting, but never in my father, never ! 
 He is not only great in his art, he is a man great and com- 
 plete as only an artist can be." 
 
 Ludwig changed colour. " Do you really mean this, Jo- 
 hanna ?" he asked. " Is it only in an artist that you can find 
 a ' complete' man ? Think what you are saying." 
 
 " Yes, yes ; I mean it 1" she cried passionately, and her 
 cheeks glowed. She seemed transformed. 
 
 " Then I have nothing more to say," said Ludwig, as he 
 arose. 
 
 Then first Johanna was conscious of what she had done. 
 
 " Oh, do not go 1" she cried, confronting him. " I can- 
 not let you go so. You did not understand me; I only 
 meant " 
 
 " I not understand you, child ?" said Ludwig, controlling 
 himself. " I might deceive myself while I was absent from 
 you ; but now that we are together, I see into your heart just 
 as I always did." 
 
 " No, no ; you do not see clearly. You do not understand 
 me. You are offended " 
 
 " Hush, hush !" Ludwig interrupted her, leading her to her 
 seat again. " Come, sit down, and listen to me. Why should 
 I be offended? We all embody for ourselves an ideal of 
 beauty and dignity. I have done the same. Shall I tell 
 you how ? ' 
 
 She only nodded an assent. There was something in hia 
 manner that confused her. 
 
 " My ideal," he began, taking a seat opposite her, " a 
 woman, of course, was a gay, simple-hearted creature, look- 
 ing out upon life with clear, truthful eyes ; not exacting much, 
 but always ready to do her best, interested in all that was
 
 16 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 good, beautiful, and great, but with a keen sympathy for the 
 poor and unfortunate, never neglectful of the daily tasks of 
 life, but consecrating, as it were, the meanest among them by 
 her performance of it, and surrounded as by a purer ether, 
 diffusing harmony and content wherever she might be." 
 
 " Your mother !" Johanna said, when he paused. 
 
 " My mother," he repeated, with a sudden smile that 
 wonderfully transfigured his set, determined face. And the 
 earnest look that he turned upon Johanna was a strange mix- 
 ture of gentleness, entreaty, and menace. 
 
 " My mother," he repeated. " Yes, and one other who 
 was like her ; one who I believed for years would exactly 
 resemble her. It was an illusion ; it is past." 
 
 Johanna looked down with a blush. She could not but 
 perceive that he meant herself. But could this be love? 
 Impossible ! One does not so quickly and causelessly resign 
 what one loves. What had she done? Left his father's 
 house to go to her own father's house. And the thoughtless 
 words she had just spoken ? If he loved her he would know 
 that they had been uttered too hastily. Anger and obstinacy 
 conquered every gentler emotion, and after a short pause she 
 rejoined coldly, without looking up, " It is not given to every 
 one to achieve content as did your mother." 
 
 " Content 1" Ludwig exclaimed ; " she was a happy woman." 
 
 " Do you think so ?" said Johanna, raising her eyes to his. 
 " Had she hoped and longed for nothing more in life than the 
 companionship of a good man, but one who wore himself out 
 in the discharge of the duties of his profession ? Do you 
 imagine that the letting of lodgings to visitors to the baths 
 was the true vocation for your mother's sensitive, refined na- 
 ture ? And could the society of two silly girls like your sis- 
 ter and myself indemnify her for the tedious solitude of the 
 long winter?" 
 
 " And yet this life satisfied her," said Ludwig. " So
 
 "ALL THE WORLD'S A STAGE." 17 
 
 spiritual a nature is always satisfied with love and a round of 
 duties." 
 
 Johanna shook her head. " It is comfortable to suppose 
 so," she said ; " but let me recall one expression of your 
 mother's which, child as I was, made a deep impression upon 
 me. My mother was already ill ; yours sat beside her bed, 
 while I was busied with a book at the window. Mamma 
 must have been speaking of her past life. I had been pay- 
 ing no attention, when suddenly I heard her say, ' Ah, dear 
 Louise, you pity me !' Your mother dried her tears, and 
 said, in a tone which I never can forget, ' No, Agnes, I envy 
 you ! It is sad to be driven forth from Paradise, but infinitely 
 sadder never to have entered it.' " 
 
 Ludwig gazed gloomily into space. " There are various 
 Paradises," he said, at last, " and they are found in various 
 ways. My mother, I am convinced, found hers later. But 
 you are right ; hers was not for every one. You could hardly 
 find it as she did." 
 
 " I should never seek it in that direction," she replied, 
 quite conscious that she was paining him ; it grieved her to 
 do so, but she could not help it. 
 
 Ludwig arose once more ; his face was pale and set. " I 
 must take leave of you," he said ; " I have an appointment 
 with a couple of college friends." 
 
 " When shall I see you, to-morrow ? When will you 
 come?'' asked Johanna. "Of course I shall be at home for 
 you all day long." 
 ' " I take the first train to-morrow for the north," he replied. 
 
 u Oh, you must not !" she exclaimed. " You must be here 
 to-morrow evening. It is my father's birthday, and you 
 must be present at its celebration." 
 
 " Impossible ; I cannot postpone my departure," he made 
 answer. " And even if I could, where could I find a place 
 among your friends? I am you remember how often my 
 6 2*
 
 18 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 father said so a faithful, cross, ugly dog. In a tSte-d-tete 
 the old playfellow is all very well, but he does not belong in 
 the drawing-room." 
 
 Johanna took his hand. " I will not let you go," she said, 
 *' until you promise to come to-morrow evening. We have a 
 little play, I make my first histrionic essay. You must be 
 present." 
 
 " No, my dear Johanna, I cannot see you act," he said, in 
 a calm voice, but with lips that quivered in spite of himself. 
 '* And independently of that, I really must go. I must get to 
 my work. I have just come from a six-weeks' tour through 
 Switzerland and the Tyrol, and my holiday is over." 
 
 " But you have told me absolutely nothing of your work, 
 of your plans. I do not know where to picture you in my 
 thoughts 1" she exclaimed. 
 
 " I will write to you," he said. " Good-by, and try to 
 think kindly of me." He shook hands with her and left her. 
 
 " A faithful, cross, ugly dog," Johanna repeated to herself, 
 as the door closed behind him and his step died away in 
 the antechamber. Suddenly a rush of emotion overcame herj 
 she sank into a chair and burst into tears.
 
 CHAPTER IL 
 
 DISAPPOINTED ASPIRATIONS. 
 
 THE festival was over. The last guests had taken their 
 departure, and as they issued shivering into the cold air of 
 the autumn night, criticism, and that not of a very genial 
 kind, replaced the flattering expressions they had just used in 
 characterizing to their hostess ' the delightful evening' they 
 had passed. 
 
 " Wanton extravagance 1" " It is worse than folly, and 
 so out of taste for an actor to attempt to vie with a banker." 
 " Everything borrowed, girls, rely upon Frau Helena for 
 that." " Yes, and she does understand how to dress herself. 
 How beautiful she looked in that pale blue silk with the rich 
 lace overskirt !" " And her pearl necklace and ear-rings, 
 where did she get those, do you think ?" " ' Honi soit 
 gui mal y pense, 1 madame ; a love-token from her husband, 
 when he was another woman's husband." " Roderich always 
 gives us excellent cigars, and the Johannisberg was delicious !" 
 " Well, we needed it to carry down the play." " For heaven's 
 sake, hush I Hofrath Leuchtenberg arranged the thing." 
 " Oh, the thing itself was well enough, but the performance ! 
 Such nonsense to entertain us with an amateur performance !" 
 " And that tall, pale, awkward girl was Roderich 's daughter ? 
 'Tis inconceivable that she should have no talent." "Rod- 
 erich looked as if he were upon the rack when she stood so 
 like a stick and ' spoke her piece.' " " But Frau Helena was 
 all the more pleased ; she could hardly conceal her exultation. 
 Her step-daughter is a thorn in the flesh to her." 
 
 19
 
 20 A KOBLE NAME. 
 
 Such was the talk among young and old, men and women, 
 as they walked along the silent streets, through which the 
 north wind howled as in indignant scorn. 
 
 While her parents were bidding farewell to the last of their 
 guests, Johanna slipped into the alecping-room where Lis- 
 beth's little bed stood beside her mother's. She noiselessly 
 drew near it, and bent over the rosy little face dimly revealed 
 with its closed eyelids in the light of the night-lamp. Sud- 
 denly two soft arms encircled her neck, and the blue childish 
 eyes laughed into her own. 
 
 " Darling, did I wake you ?" Johanna asked. 
 
 " Oh, no ; I have not been asleep ; I cannot go to sleep, 
 Stay with me, and let us tell each other stories." 
 
 " Dear, you must go to sleep," her sister said, trying to 
 disengage herself, but the child clung to her. 
 
 " No, no, you must stay with me ; it frightens me to be 
 alone," she cried in a peevish tone, which would hardly have 
 prevailed with Johanna had it not been for the little one's 
 burning cheeks and feverishly brilliant eyes. 
 
 " Well, I will stay if you will promise to be perfectly still," 
 phe said, seating herself at the head of the bed, and putting 
 aer arm beneath Lisbeth's fair curly head. 
 
 " That is delightful," said the child. " But I came near 
 crying when I heard them all talking and laughing so. Ah, 
 it was such a lovely evening, was it not, Hanna dear ?" 
 
 " Yes, Lisbeth ; but now shut your eyes. Perhaps you 
 may dream of it." 
 
 " I do not need to do that ; I remember all about it. 
 How lovely it was when I said my little verse and gave 
 papa the wreath, and everybody clapped their hands and 
 cried Brava 1 Oh, I wish I were grown up and could act 
 every evening, like mamma 1" 
 
 She had raised herself in the bed ; Johanna laid her back 
 upon the pillow.
 
 DISAPPOINTED ASPIRATIONS. 21 
 
 " Be quiet/' she said, gravely. 
 
 " Yes, yes, I am quiet now," Lisbeth assured her. " But 
 tell me," she went on, with eyes wide open, " why did no 
 one call out ' Brava' and clap their hands for you ?" 
 
 " Probably because I did not do as well as you did," 
 Johanna answered, and the mortification with which she 
 had been struggling brought a crimson blush to her face. 
 " No, it was wretched, it was miserable," she went on in a 
 trembling voice. " My throat seemed closed ; my limbs 
 were heavy as lead ; the eyes of all seemed to pierce me 
 through and through. Oh, Lisbeth, I shall never be able 
 to act 1" 
 
 She laid her head upon the pillow beside the child, who 
 pressed her flushed little face against her sister's cheek. 
 " Oh, you will learn," Lisbeth whispered. " Papa says you 
 are very clever, and you are so kind, and I love you so very 
 much." 
 
 The words came more and more slowly ; Johanna remained 
 motionless, that she might not prevent the child from sleep- 
 ing. After a while she heard the rustle of silk : her step- 
 mother had entered the adjoining dressing-room. Directly 
 afterwards her father also entered. " I should like to speak 
 with you a moment, Helena," he said. 
 
 " I am listening," she made reply, without looking round, 
 and continuing to take off her ornaments and her sash. 
 
 He began to pace the room to -and fuo. Johanna's heart 
 beat fast ; she knew how Helena irritated him by this assump- 
 tion of indifference. 
 
 " You have placed me in a strange position," he began, 
 after a pause, in a low, stern tone. " I certainly ought to be 
 grateful to you for my birthday fte ; but I must at the same 
 time reiterate, and that most decidedly, that we cannot give 
 such extravagant entertainments. We arc so much in 
 debt "
 
 22 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 " Dear Roderick," she interrupted him, " one benefit and 
 it will all be paid." 
 
 " But, Helena, I cannot reckon upon the future," he re- 
 joined. " You know I could not make any engagements last 
 summer, I am not yet well. It seems to me very undesira- 
 ble to burden ourselves with unnecessary care." 
 
 " And it seems to me undesirable, sordid, degrading, to be 
 always counting the cost," exclaimed Helena. " Without free- 
 dom of action the artist cannot exist." 
 
 " It is that very freedom which I wish to secure," Roderich 
 said gravely. "At your urgent entreaty, and by Commer- 
 zieurath Schmidt's advice, I speculated with our entire for- 
 tune, as you know, and lost it. Therefore we must begin 
 afresh, and economize. Therefore, dear Helena, no more of 
 these costly entertainments." 
 
 She shrugged her shoulders impatiently. " Dear Roderich," 
 she said, " to-night's festival is my affair ; it is my birthday 
 present to you " 
 
 " Child, you cannot count the cost," he interrupted her ; 
 " your salary scarcely suffices to provide your wardrobe." 
 
 " 'Tis little enough !" said Helena. " You might long ago 
 have used your influence to procure me a better position. In- 
 stead of which, you always take sides with the Kronberg against 
 me." 
 
 " No, I do not," he replied. " I wrote to the manager 
 only yesterday that I would renew my present engagement 
 with him only upon condition that the Kronberg were not 
 allowed to usurp any of your parts." 
 
 Helena threw her arms around him. " Oh, you darling, 
 did you really?" she cried in glee. " You do not know how 
 you delight me. They wanted to persuade me that you cared 
 for the Kronberg." 
 
 " Helena 1" he said reproachfully. " Since I have known 
 you there has beea but one woman for me in the world."
 
 DISAPPOINTED ASPIRATIONS. 23 
 
 His words hurt Johanua ; she tried to release herself, that 
 she might leave the room, but Lisbeth in her sleep held her 
 fast. 
 
 Helena had taken her husband's arm and paced the room 
 to and fro with him. She had doffed her lace overdress, 
 and looked wonderfully lovely in the close-fitting blue silk 
 with bare neck and arms. " Why do you always find fault 
 with me, you bad fellow ?" she said, looking up at him with 
 an exultant smile. " I live only for you to fulfil your wishes. 
 I have economized; I have even dismissed my own maid, con- 
 tenting myself with Johanna's services." 
 
 " She really seems fit for little else," he replied. " How 
 miserably she acquitted herself in her small part ! You ought 
 not to have allowed her to take it." 
 
 " What could I do ?" Helena asked. " She insisted upon 
 making the attempt, and I as her step-mother " 
 
 "Poor Johanna!" Roderich interrupted her; "as devoid 
 of talent as her mother, and as ugly as myself!" 
 
 " Oh, Roderich, you ! The most glorious Egmont, the 
 most enchanting Leicester !" 
 
 " But a very ugly man !" he said, with the brilliant smile 
 that was all his own, and that really made his plain face hand- 
 some. " What you admire comes from within ; there seems 
 to be some kind of a flame there that flickers interestingly. 
 But this is denied to poor Johanna. And then you must see 
 that the Graces have denied her their gifts ; the greatest mis- 
 fortune for a woman. You have managed that they should 
 bestow them all upon your little daughter." 
 
 He kissed her hand. Johanna could endure it no longer ; 
 by a hasty effort she released herself from her sleeping sister's 
 arm, and stepped noiselessly out of the room into the corridor, 
 at the end of which was her own chamber. 
 
 She groped her way to the arm-chair beside the window, 
 Bank into it, and gazed into the darkness without. How gay
 
 24 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 and hopeful she had been while dressing in this room a few 
 short hours before, and how forlorn and discouraged she had 
 now returned to it ! ' As devoid of talent as her mother, 
 and as ugly as myself,' had been the words spoken by a voice 
 whose utterances she believed implicitly ; and then again, ' the 
 Graces have denied her their gifts ; the greatest misfortune 
 for a woman.' Bitterness, such as she had never before 
 known, possessed her. What had she done to be thus disin- 
 herited from the beginning, deprived of all claim to love and 
 happiness ? 
 
 Suddenly a joyous thrill drove the blood to her heart. It 
 was not so, she was not disinherited. Little more than twenty- 
 four hours had passed since the most truthful of men had said 
 to her in effect, ' You were my ideal ; ugly and awkward as 
 you are, I saw in you the embodiment of all loveliness.' If 
 he saw it in her no longer, it was because of a mistake, a 
 misunderstanding. She would prove to him that she had lost 
 nothing of value, that ahe was still worthy the love of former 
 days. 
 
 Why should she do this ? She did not love Ludwig. No, 
 no, she did not love him. Only in contrast with her father's 
 cruel verdict did she find pleasure in his words of yesterday, 
 and the impetuous throbbing of her heart was but the result 
 of the various emotions that had besieged it during the past 
 few hours. 
 
 If she only had not undergone that one experience 1 To 
 stand there and not be mistress of her motions ; to will to 
 speak, and not be able to give to her words the meaning she 
 desired; to be stared at by all those unsympathetic eyea, 
 to be conscious of exciting contemptuous pity. ' Devoid of 
 talent as her mother, and ugly us myself,' rang in her ears 
 again. 
 
 She would rid herself of this torment. And she arose, lit a 
 candle, and then first perceived a letter lying upon her table.
 
 DISAPPOINTED ASPIRATIONS. 25 
 
 " From Luuwig," she thought ; and she was right; his large 
 clear handwriting stared at her from the envelope, and covered 
 three sides of a sheet of paper which enclosed several others. 
 Johanna seated herself at the table and read : 
 
 " DEAR JOHANNA, The enclosed letter, which my mother 
 found among the papers left her by your mother, was sent to 
 me by the former in her last illness. She wrote to me telling 
 me to do with it what seemed best to me ; she had never been 
 able to bring herself to disturb your happiness in your re- 
 union with your father after so many years. 
 
 " I might assert that the same consideration has hitherto 
 prevented me from imparting to you the wishes of your dying 
 mother, but I will be as frank with you as I am with myself. 
 I withheld the letter because I hoped even without its aid to 
 be able to withdraw you from surroundings unworthy of you. 
 I thought that a word from me would suffice to restore you 
 to the home that was your own so long. I hesitated made 
 cowardly and selfish as we always are by the desires of our 
 hearts to erect any barrier between you, a grandchild of the 
 Dbnninghausens, and your old friends. 
 
 " But now I have convinced myself that the old friends 
 are of no avail to counteract new and unworthy influences ; 
 therefore let a voice from the grave speak to you. 
 
 " If you should heed it, and have any need either of my 
 pen or of my personal aid, pray command me. I shall be 
 at my father's, where I have certain scientific work to do, 
 throughout the coming winter. 
 
 " Twice to-day I have been to your door, but each time 1 
 turned away. What could it avail me to see you again where 
 you are ? Farewell, and let me hear from you soon. 
 
 "L. W." 
 
 To Johanna the tone of this letter seemed icy cold. Ex- 
 
 B 8
 
 26 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 perience is needed to detect intensity of emotion beneath ex- 
 terior and perhaps hardly-won composure. With a trembling 
 hand she opened her mother's letter. What could she, 
 gentle and loving as she had always been, require of her 
 daughter so hard that her foster-mother had been unwilling 
 to impart it to her ? Johanna gazed at the delicate hand- 
 writing, its uncertain characters betraying the mortal weariness 
 that had possessed the writer. The touching figure of her 
 dying mother rose vividly in her memory, and with increasing 
 emotion she read what follows, in all of which she distinctly 
 felt the quickened feverish throb of the poor invalid's heart. 
 
 " LINDEXBAD, August 19, 1864. 
 
 " MY DEAR LOUISE, A few hours ago you left me, and 
 in a few hours you will come again, faithful friend that you 
 are, to ask how I have passed the night. Ah, Louise ! it 
 begins so distressingly, with such throbbing pulses and wan- 
 dering thoughts, that I would flee from myself to you as to 
 Home shrine of the Madonna. 
 
 " If I was at first inclined to regard as a piece of good 
 luck the chance which brought me an old school-mate in the 
 wife of the physician of this place, I soon learned to bless 
 the Providence which conducted me hither. Dear, kind 
 friend I How you have cheered and encouraged me through 
 these weary days of sickness and suffering 1 They would 
 have been cheerless without you. 
 
 " Cheerless in every respect, dear Louise ; for I hardly need 
 to tell you that my soul suffers more than iny failing body, 
 because it does not share the weary longing of the latter for 
 death. My poor soul clings to life, thirsting for the love and 
 happiness of former days, vanished now forever. 
 
 " Would Roderich feel some pity if he knew how vital 
 within me is still the memory of every word of his, the very 
 tone in which each word was uttered ? Ah, Louise ! those
 
 DISAPPOINTED ASPIRATIONS. 27 
 
 words, those tones, possessed the power to create thrones and 
 altars, and transformed the fortunate creature for whom they 
 were spoken into a queen, a goddess : he constituted her such. 
 " I was his from the first moment that I saw him. I was 
 with my parents in Berlin, where he was playing. I saw him 
 first in ' Torquato Tasso,' and then at a ball at the French am- 
 bassador's. He asked to be presented to me. I stood before 
 him trembling, and when he held out his hand to me I was his 
 clave for life. There was no longer any question of will or 
 choice, nothing but a blessed necessity. I could not but 
 resign everything for him, home, parents, brothers, family, 
 rank, and wealth. He was still only a beginner in his art. 
 My enthusiasm, my devotion, flattered him ; my intelligence 
 fired his genius ; my beauty intoxicated his senses. Yes, there 
 were years when I made him happy, in which I filled his heart 
 and his imagination. 
 
 ' Though 'tis torture, yet that time 
 Can never be forgot.' 
 
 " In the first year of our marriage Johanna was born. I 
 announced her birth to my parents, and hoped, from my 
 mother at least, for a kind word. Instead of this I saw the 
 notice of her death in the papers. Two years later God sent 
 ine a son, but he lived only a few hours, and my life was in 
 danger for months, while I was confined for years to my room. 
 That was the beginning of my unhappiness. Roderich was 
 still so young, he had married when only twenty-three. He 
 needed change and excitement to counterbalance his close ap- 
 plication to the duties of his profession. Often, when in the 
 flush of some fresh triumph he would come to my room to 
 make me a partaker in his delight, both doctor and nurse 
 would caution him not to fatigue me. He was obliged to walk 
 on tiptoe, to sit in semi-darkness, to speak in a whisper. All 
 this he could not endure. He went, and I was left alone, 
 more and more alone, of course, as time passed on.
 
 28 ^ NOBLE NAME. 
 
 " August 22. 
 
 "I could not write more. This pain in my heart has 
 debarred me from all exertion for the last few days, during 
 which you, dear Louise, have been, as always, my stay and 
 comfort. Let these lines thank you for your kindness when 
 my lips can do so no longer. 
 
 " I know how near the end is now, and the consciousness 
 fills me with a despair beyond words. To vanish to be for- 
 gotten to leave to others what was once my own 
 
 " But I did not mean to speak of myself. My last thought 
 and care are for my poor Johanna, who will so soon be or 
 phaned. If it is possible, Louise, let my child stay with you. 
 I will write to Roderich and entreat him to send the child to 
 Borne school here in your neighbourhood. Then give her that 
 home in your heart which she loses in mine. Her father 
 hardly knows her, and will hardly miss her, as she on her part 
 will scarcely miss him. On the other hand, she is warmly 
 attached to you and to your children, and in your house she 
 will find the pure domestic atmosphere which can never be 
 hers in her father's. Hard though it be to say it, it must 
 be said : the thought of leaving my child in the hands of the 
 woman who has robbed me of Roderich's love poisons my 
 last hours, and will leave me no rest in the grave. Johanna 
 must not love that woman, must not owe her anything. I am 
 sure you understand this feeling, even although you do not 
 approve of it. 
 
 " Later. 
 
 " More bad days and nights, how many I do not know ; 
 and through them all this terrible anxiety about Johanna's 
 future. If you cannot grant my request and keep her your- 
 self, then, I entreat you, see that she takes refuge with my 
 people. They will receive her kindly. Three years ago. 
 when R-oderich's passion for this actress became notorious, 
 nay father wrote to me asking me to come to him with my
 
 DISAPPOINTED ASPIRATIONS. 29 
 
 child. His only condition was my legal separation from Rod- 
 erich aud the dropping of the name which he so hated. I 
 could not bring myself to consent to this ; but twice since 
 then, when my two brothers died, I wrote to my father, now 
 quite desolate, and each time he answered me and made me 
 the same proposal. He will certainly receive my orphan 
 child kindly. 
 
 " Understand me aright, dear Louise. I would rather 
 know Johanna at home with you than anywhere else. In 
 your home-circle her youth would be gayer and simpler. 
 Only if you cannot adopt her, send her to my father, to the 
 Freiherr Johann von Donninghausen, Db'nninghausen on the 
 Harz, or write to him and commend my child to her grand- 
 father's heart. 
 
 " The morning dawns. Perhaps when the phantoms of 
 the night flee I can sleep 
 
 ' To die to sleep ! 
 
 To sleep ! perchance to dream, ay, there's the rub, 
 For in that sleep of death what dreams may come.' 
 
 " Did you ever hear Roderich utter those words ? They 
 ring in my ears now as if I had just heard him say them. 
 I must hear him say them once more. No, no, I canno* 
 die." 
 
 Here the letter ended. Death had come suddenly and 
 painlessly. Johanna remembered the peaceful smile upon 
 her mother's beautiful face as she lay in her coffin. She 
 kissed the last lines written by her dear hand, and her heart 
 overflowed with tenderness. 
 
 The impression made upon her by the letter, however, was 
 far other than Ludwig seemed to expect it would produce. 
 Not for a moment did it alter Johanna's love for her father. 
 On the contrary, its passioi.ate pain seemed to justify her 
 
 8*
 
 30 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 feeling for him. Weary unto death, and tortured with 
 jealousy, her mother had turned to him in love and longing, 
 and her last words were the utterance of a desire to see him 
 once more. 
 
 " This is love," Johanna said to herself, " the only true 
 love, that of which it stands written, ' beareth all things, 
 believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things. 
 Love never faileth.' Whoever can merely say as Ludwig 
 does, ' I loved you so long as you thought and felt thus 
 and so/ has never really loved." 
 
 Even her mother's desire that she should go to her grand- 
 father did not disturb Johanna. The letter said expressly, 
 ' Her father hardly knows her, and will hardly miss her.' 
 Now that he knew her and loved her, her mother would not, 
 Johanna was convinced, wish her to leave him. Only if her 
 father should come to consider her a burden, or if her lack 
 of talent should estrange him from her, or if her step-mother's 
 dislike of her should lead to misunderstandings, could it be 
 her duty to leave her father's roof. 
 
 But it was useless to pursue such reflections as these. If 
 her step-mother did not like her, her father's love and her 
 little sister's devotion more than indemnified her. To attach 
 to herself the lovely little creature who before her sister's 
 arrival had spent all her time with the servants, to make 
 good the deficiencies in the little girl's training, these were 
 tasks after Johanna's own heart, and in them she could find 
 abundant content; if she applied herself to these and re- 
 strained her thoughts and desires from wandering in other 
 realms, she could surely be once more for Ludwig what she 
 had been formerly. 
 
 She sat with clasped hands gazing into the flame of the 
 candle. The little watering-place in the Thuringian forest, 
 so long her home, rose vividly in her memory. There stood 
 the vine- wreathed cottage of the resident physician, where
 
 DISAPPOINTED ASPIRATIONS. 31 
 
 Ludwig would dwell as his father's successor ; the garden, with 
 its dwarf fruit-trees, vegetable patch, and flower-beds; the 
 hawthorn arbour by the hedge, with the vista of the chestnut 
 avenue, along which the guests at the baths used to saunter ; 
 the little stream with its grassy banks ; and, enclosing all, the 
 wooded heights, a fitting frame for the lovely peaceful picture. 
 
 " But it would be no life for me," Johanna said to herself. 
 " Why not ? Why cannot I be content with what has satis- 
 fied thousands ? Why am I possessed by this desire for I 
 know not what for giving shape and expression to some- 
 thing ? Is it not vanity, or ambition, or self-conceit ?" 
 
 She was more than ever conscious of the loneliness in which 
 she had lived since the death of her foster-mother, who had 
 been her refuge in all doubt and distress, while her husband, 
 Uncle Werner, as Johanna called him, had ministered only 
 to the physical ailments of his family. She had found but 
 little sympathy from Mathilde, Ludwig's sister, whose nature 
 was cold and narrow ; even Ludwig, sensitive as he was, had 
 not understood her. But her father, he must have known 
 such times of doubt and uncertainty, he might help her. 
 
 " I will pluck up courage and tell him everything to-mor- 
 row," she said to herself. Then, calmed and quieted by thw 
 resolve, she betook herself to bed and to sleep.
 
 CHAPTER IIL 
 
 A CRISIS. 
 
 JOHANNA could not carry her resolve into execution. The 
 following morning she was busy until late in replacing by order 
 the disarray produced by the birthday fete, and when her 
 father, who had gone out meanwhile, returned, he hurried 
 past her with so gloomy an expression that she did not venture 
 to follow him to his room. 
 
 At dinner she learned the cause of his troubled mood. He 
 had quarrelled with the manager because the latter would 
 persist in giving various of Helena's youthful parts to her 
 rival, Fraulein Kronberg. 
 
 " Of course I cannot withdraw my stipulations," Roderich 
 added, " and therefore cannot renew my contract, favourable 
 as its conditions were for me." 
 
 " You can get another anywhere else quite as favourable, 
 and even more so," said Helena. 
 
 " But not the accessories which I have here," Roderich 
 declared. "Not the intelligent public, nor the charming 
 tnise-en-scbnc which makes each separate performance a work 
 of art." 
 
 " That is no affair of yours," said Helena. " Each for 
 himself, and God for us all. And as for the public, I can't 
 Bee that it is especially intelligent. Wherever else you go 
 you receive more applause than you get here, and so do I." 
 
 " Applause !" he repeated, with an impatient shrug. " Dear 
 Helena, there is a kind of applause that makes me blush with 
 82
 
 A CRISIS. 33 
 
 mortification ; but from your point of view you can hardly 
 understand this." 
 
 How gladly would Johanna have assured him that she un- 
 derstood him perfectly ! But while she was struggling with her 
 natural shyness, Helena exclaimed, " If you think so meanly 
 of me, pray do not proclaim it before other people ; it is more 
 than I can bear." 
 
 Roderich changed colour. " To accuse me of unkindness 
 just when I am sacrificing all my plans for your sake is 
 rather hard !" he said. And, rising from table, he left the 
 room suddenly, slamming the door noisily behind him. 
 
 Lisbeth, terrified, began to cry, the others were amazed. 
 Never before had he allowed himself to be so carried away 
 by temper. 
 
 " He must be ill," said Johanna. 
 
 " Nonsense ! he is out of temper," said Helena, " and he 
 shall not hear a kind word from me until he begs my pardon." 
 
 Johanna was right. In half an hour Friedrich announced 
 that the Herr had one of his attacks of headache, and could 
 see no one. 
 
 On such days there seemed to be a spell upon the entire 
 household. Every voice was lowered, every footfall was as 
 light as possible, and Friedrich muffled the bell upon the 
 landing. 
 
 This time, Johanna learned from Friedrich, the pain was 
 not so intense as usual, but it did not pass away at the end 
 of twenty-four hours. When, in spite of it, Roderich went (o 
 rehearsal the next day, he returned more ill than ever. The 
 third day fever set in, and the physician ordered him to bed. 
 
 Helena had not forgiven the scene at table. 
 
 " It surely is not very bad, doctor," she said, as she ac- 
 companied the physician from the room. " I am just order- 
 ing a magnificent costume for Desdemona. Othello comes 
 out next week ; you must have him well by that time." 
 c
 
 jJ4 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 " We will hope for the best," the old man said, as he 
 took his leave. Johanna, who overheard his words, was 
 startled. She knew from Dr. Werner what these words sig- 
 nified in a physician's mouth. Whilst Helena carelessly re 
 turned to her costume, Johanna waited with a throbbing heart 
 at her father's door until the servant made his appearance. 
 
 " Pray ask papa, Friedrich, whether I may not come in," 
 ehe said. 
 
 The sick man heard her. " Come !" he called. His voice, 
 usually so full and sonorous, sounded muffled, and his face was 
 still more changed : it was colourless, and looked pinched and 
 wan upon the pillow. 
 
 Johanna went to his bedside, with difficulty suppressing all 
 signs of emotion. " Papa," she entreated, " let me stay with 
 you. You have Friedrich, it is true, but I know better than 
 he how to nurse an invalid." 
 
 For a while he gazed at her as if he scarcely understood 
 her words. " Yes, stay with me," he said ; " I think I am really 
 very ill, and you are more careful, quieter, stronger " 
 
 He did not finish the sentence, but she understood what he 
 meant. 
 
 " Ah, thank you 1" she said, kissing his burning 
 hand. 
 
 He drew his daughter closer to him. " My dear, good 
 child 1" he said, pressing his feverish lips to her forehead. 
 She did not dream that it was a farewell caress. 
 
 The disease progressed rapidly, and was pronounced by the 
 physician the next day to be a nervous fever. He was quite 
 content with Johanna's calm, careful treatment of his patient, 
 but he begged Helena, who could not control her agitation, 
 to spare her own delicate health for the sake of her child, 
 and to be as little as possible in the sick-room, She sighed 
 and submitted. 
 
 But, indeed, neither she nor any one else could have dig-
 
 A CRISIS. 35 
 
 turbed the sick man after a few days had passed ; he lay in 
 a state of entire unconsciousness. 
 
 The whole city was interested in the artist's condition ; the 
 inquiries after his health were countless ; the door was be- 
 sieged by friends and acquaintances. He had always been a 
 kind, ungrudging comrade to his fellow-actors, and now when 
 he could no longer excite their envy, they remembered hia 
 own freedom from it, and did all in their power to testify 
 their esteem and friendship for him. 
 
 For Helena it was a kind of consolation to receive their 
 visits; her nature was of those for which distraction is pos- 
 sible. After she had with many tears given an account of the 
 sick man's state, she would listen with interest to theatrical 
 gossip, and forget for a while her own sorrow. It overcame 
 her, indeed, with redoubled violence when she was once more 
 alone. Often, when she had been laughing with a visitor at 
 some jest, Johanna would find her in a state of most pitiable 
 distress. 
 
 " He is going to die, I know he is ; such happiness as ours 
 was too great for this world of misery," she would declare, 
 sobbing as if her heart would break ; or she would cry out as 
 if bereft of her senses, " God, you cannot take him from 
 me ! He must be spared for me and for his art." 
 
 She was most helpless and hopeless in the sick-room, where 
 she would throw herself on her knees by Roderich's bedside, 
 cover his hand with kisses, and exhaust every passionate term 
 of endearment, nearly fainting when there was no response 
 from her unconscious husband. But if one of the physicians 
 or a friend wished to speak to her, she would arise, and, 
 with a look of anguish as she left the room, involuntarily 
 adjust artistically the soft folds of her white cachemire 
 peignoir. . 
 
 Johanna was too young and unsophisticated to appreciate 
 her step-mother. She did her injustice when she accused her
 
 36 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 of heartleesness, and she added to her own burden by a daily 
 increasing dislike for Helena. 
 
 But she could not help it. The sleep of exhaustion, which 
 now and then overcame her, was all the rest and forgetfulness 
 that she had. If she forced herself to talk with little Lis- 
 beth, she had to struggle continually with rising tears, and 
 when she heard others speaking of the events of the day, she 
 could hardly comprehend how the affairs of the world could 
 pursue their usual course outside of the sick-room. That was 
 her realm, and her father's death seemed to her the end of 
 all things. 
 
 Week after week passed. The physician gave Johanna no 
 hope. She had herself watched from day to day, and from 
 hour to hour, the inexorable approach of the Destroyer, and 
 when the last moment came, she had lived it over in thought 
 a hundred times. 
 
 It was the gidy dawn of a morning in November. She 
 was sitting alone at her father's bedside. Helena was asleep 
 upon a lounge in the next room, when Roderich once more 
 opened his eyes, in which there was a last ray of conscious- 
 ness ; his lips moved, and when Johanna leaned over him, 
 she heard him whisper, ' Helena.' His features were con- 
 vulsed for an instant, and when Helena rushed into the room 
 in answer to her low cry, it was too late. Her husband had 
 breathed his last. His heart had ceased to beat. 
 
 Johanna closed his eyes and took her usual place beside 
 him. She seemed paralyzed ; she could not weep, she could 
 not even think. Helena's noisy grief distressed her, but it 
 seemed to reach her ear from some great distance, and soon 
 died away altogether. Only two images remained in her 
 memory from this terrible time, the ideal beauty of her be- 
 loved dead as he lay in the coffin crowned with laurel, and 
 the dreary aspect of the funeral cortege as it moved endlessly 
 along the streets in the pouring rain, while the wind tore
 
 A CRISIS, 37 
 
 away from the hearse and whirled in air some of the flowers 
 and wreaths with which it was bedecked. 
 
 It was Lisbeth who at last aroused Johanna from her 
 lethargy. To spare the imaginative child the sad impression 
 of her father's dying moments, she had been intrusted to the 
 care of an actress friend, returning to her home only when 
 the funeral was over. Helena rushed to her, clasped her in 
 her arms, loaded her with caresses, declaring that she was all 
 that was left her in life, all that she had to live for, and then 
 turned away to receive a couple of her friends who had 
 called to see her. They were all soon absorbed in an ani- 
 mated discussion of mourning gowns and Helena's broken 
 heart, the impossibility of recovering from Roderich's loss, 
 his widow's plans for the future, the intrigues of the Kron 
 berg, and the inconceivable partiality of the manager for one 
 so utterly without talent. The child felt herself forgotten, 
 and left the room to look for her sister. 
 
 Johanna was not in her usual place at the work-table in 
 Helena's dressing-room, nor was she in her own sleeping 
 apartment. But when Lisbeth timidly entered her father's 
 study, she found Johanna, looking pale and white in her 
 black gown, still sitting by the window whence she had seen 
 the funeral procession disappear. She sat in an arm-chair, 
 her head leaning back, her arms hanging idly down, gazing 
 into epace with such an expression of dull anguish that the 
 little girl was frightened. 
 
 " Johanna, dear Johanna, please do not be ill, do not die !" 
 she cried, throwing her arms around her sister's neck ; and 
 these first tender words, the nestling close to her of the little 
 one, dissolved the spell that had bound the poor girl, and she 
 burst into tears. 
 
 Afterwards, when longing for sympathy, she went to her 
 step-mother, Helena said in her coldest tone, 
 
 " Has it really occurred to you to remember my existence ? 
 4
 
 38 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 I think it was high time. Everything comes upon me, it 
 will kill me." 
 
 Not a word was said of all that Johanna had done during 
 the long weeks of illness, and the gulf between Helena and 
 herself widened. 
 
 The next morning Johanna was handed the card of Lieu- 
 tenant Otto von Dbnninghausen. She would gladly have 
 refused to see him, but written in pencil upon the card was 
 ' Commissioned by our grandfather,' and she could not deny 
 herself to one so accredited. 
 
 In the drawing-room she found a tall, fair man, about 
 thirty years old, whose military carriage betrayed the soldier 
 in spite of his civilian's dress. 
 
 " Cousin Johanna ?" he said, advancing towards her, while 
 his bright, resolute blue eyes scanned her keenly. Then he 
 held out his hand. " Forgive me for intruding at such a 
 time," he continued. " Let me plead the right of kinship, 
 and believe in the sincerity of my sympathy." 
 
 Johanna's eyes filled with tears. She mutely returned thb 
 pressure of his hand, and motioned him to a seat. 
 
 " Our grandfather has requested me to put this letter into 
 your own hands," he began again when both were seated. 
 " The commission was a welcome one to me ; I take a sad 
 satisfaction in assuring you personally of my sympathy. I 
 have had the pleasure of seeing your father repeatedly upon 
 the stage, and I never can forget him." 
 
 " I thank you," said Johanna, and for an instant her pale 
 face glowed with the same fire which had distinguished her 
 father. Her cousin's simple cordiality of tone did her good, 
 inspired her with confidence, and yet she felt a timidity in his 
 presence quite foreign to her. 
 
 1 It is the result of the distressing consciousness of know- 
 ing nothing of my nearest relatives," she thought. 
 
 " Grandpapa requests you to come to him," the young man
 
 A CRISIS. 39 
 
 said, handing Johanna a sealed letter. " Do not be led astray 
 by his manner of expression, which is probably as blunt and 
 cold in this letter as it is in daily personal intercourse. There 
 is much kindliness beneath his rough exterior. Our grand- 
 father is a nobleman in the full sense of the word, with all 
 the prejudice and narrowness of his class. You will soon un- 
 derstand and value him, and I hope soon to see you in Db'n- 
 ninghausen." 
 
 " Are you going back there again ?" asked Johanna, trying 
 to find something to say. 
 
 " Not now," he replied. " My regiment is stationed on 
 the Rhine, and I am returning to it after having assisted last, 
 week in the celebration of my grandfather's birthday, on which 
 ' occasion we are all wont to assemble at Db'nninghausen." 
 
 " Who are all ?" asked Johanna. " I know little, almost 
 nothing, of my mother's family ; she had become estranged 
 from her kindred." 
 
 " Unfortunately," her cousin interposed, " I have but a 
 faint remembrance of my aunt Agnes. I am the eldest son 
 of her second brother, who was attached to our embassy in 
 London." 
 
 " Was he not called Waldemar ?" asked Johanna. 
 
 " You are right," the young man replied. " Grandpapa s 
 eldest son, Johann Georg, was already dead when Aunt Agnes 
 left her home. He left only one child, a son, Johann Leopold, 
 who has been brought up in Db'nninghausen, and lives there 
 now. He has pursued various studies, and is the heir. I 
 have a younger brother, named for our father, Waldemar; 
 he has entered upon a diplomatic career. My two sisters, 
 Hedwig and Hildegard, are married to two distant cousins be- 
 longing to the Wildenhayn-Oderbuchs. Finally, grandpapa's 
 youngest son, Major Karl Anton, also dead, left one child, a 
 daughter, young and beautiful and a widow of two years' 
 standing. Her name is Magelone ; her husband, Lieutenant
 
 40 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 von dcr Aue, who lived only eighteen months after their mar- 
 riage, contrived in that time to run through all her property, 
 and she now lives at Donninghausen, under the chaperonage 
 of our grand-aunt Thekla, grandpapa's unmarried sister. Let 
 me add that Magelone is as clever as she is beautiful, aa 
 accomplished as she is amiable, and that she is especially 
 desirous of welcoming Cousin Johanna to Donninghausen." 
 
 " Me ?" Johanna asked, blushing. " I cannot under- 
 stand " 
 
 " I will read the riddle for you," Otto interposed. " Do you 
 not remember meeting two years ago, among the guests at 
 Lindenbad, a certain Frau von Werth ? She visits at Don- 
 ninghausen, and has told wonderful tales of you. I will spare 
 your modesty further details." 
 
 He bowed with a smile, and again his sparkling eyes 
 scanned her. Johanna coloured : she felt cheered and com- 
 forted. None among her father's friends had ever accorded 
 her any degree of attention. ' 
 
 " I should like to know something of my grandfather," she 
 began, after a pause ; but, before she could go on, the door 
 opened and Lisbeth came in. 
 
 " Johanna 1" she exclaimed, startled, and stood still ; 
 but Johanna held out her hand, and the child flew to her 
 side. 
 
 " My sister," she said, tenderly stroking the little one's fair 
 curls. 
 
 " Sister ?" Otto repeated, in a tone of surprise. " Oh, 
 yes, I remember. Come, my little beauty, give me your 
 hand," he said, with his winning smile. 
 
 But the child held Johanna's arm tight and looked at him 
 with a little air of defiance. " No, I do not know you, 
 and I do not want to know you," she said in a waywaid 
 tone. 
 
 " Darling, don't be naughty," Jqhanna whispered.
 
 A CRISIS. 41 
 
 " Never mind," said her cousin ; " the child is shy, and, 
 besides, I must go." And he glanced at the clock as he arose. 
 
 Johanna also arose. " I am sorry," she said ; " I had so 
 much to ask " 
 
 " And I, too, seem to have a thousand things to say," the 
 young man rejoined. " I thought I should have seen much 
 more of you, but when I arrived yesterday I found that the 
 funsral had not yet taken place, and the hours were wasted 
 which I hoped to have spent with you. I wish that I could 
 at least have followed to the grave the man whom I so ad- 
 mired, but I was detained by pressing business." 
 
 How cordial was the tone in which he spoke ! Johanna's 
 eyes filled ; how could she know that his ' pressing business' 
 was a breakfast with some gay companions? Much moved, 
 she held out her hand to her cousin. Otto pressed it to his 
 lips. 
 
 "Au revoir in Donninghausen !" he said, and went. 
 
 " Au revoir" she rejoined, half involuntarily ; and, as the 
 door closed behind his tall figure, she all but asked herself 
 whether the events of the last half-hour had not been a 
 dream. How could she feel thus nearly related to a man 
 of whose existence she had been so short a time before 
 unconscious ? ' Strange force of kinship !' she said to her- 
 self. 
 
 Meanwhile, Lisbeth had seized upon the large envelope 
 lying upon the table, and was trying to spell out the address. 
 
 " What a funny letter ! Is it to you ? Why is there no 
 ' Fraulein' on it ?" she asked, handing the letter to her sister, 
 who observed for the first time that the envelope was ad- 
 dressed ' To my granddaughter Johanna.' 
 
 She now remembered that letters from Donninghausen to 
 her mother had always been sent in an enclosure, and the 
 address only of the envelope within had been written by her 
 grandfather, and had alwayy been ' To my daughter Agne3.' 
 
 4*
 
 42 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 The Freiherr could not bring himself to write the hated name 
 of the actor. 
 
 With a sigh, Johanna broke the seal and read : 
 
 " MY DEAR CHILD, Now that you are, as I learn, an 
 orphan indeed, it seems to me a matter of course that you 
 should come as soon as possible to your natural home, that 
 is, to my house. Write to me when you intend to start, that 
 I may send you a suitable escort. 
 
 " Your affectionate grandfather, 
 
 " JOHANN HEINRICH v. DONNINQHAUSEN." 
 
 Johanna's hands fell by her sides. Not one word of pity 
 for her loss, of sympathy for the death of the famous artist, 
 or of welcome for the unknown grandchild. No, she could 
 never find a home in a house where her father's name was 
 despised I 
 
 But then she recalled what her eousin Otto had said of 
 her grandfather's noble nature, which his harsh exterior 
 continually gainsaid. Perhaps it might be given to her to 
 reconcile the old nobleman with her father's memory ; and 
 Magelone was there, witty and talented, and Cousin Ott / made 
 frequent visits to Donninghausen. He would always pay to 
 the dead the tribute of admiration which she coveted. Should 
 she go ? Her glance fell upon Lisbeth, sitting opposite her, 
 her eyes fixed upon the ground, her little face sad with that 
 look of misery which is so indescribably pathetic in a child. 
 " No, I cannot leave my darling. What is Donninghausen to 
 me ?" she said to herself, and clasped her sister in her arms. 
 
 Meanwhile, Otto had returned to his hotel, whence before 
 leaving town he wrote to Magelone : 
 
 "GRACIOUS SOVEREIGN, Your commands are obejod. 
 When I delivered our grandfather's letter I exercised in yuur
 
 A CRISIS. 43 
 
 behalf all the power of observation with which I am gifted, 
 and can state, so far as can be learned in the limits of a brief 
 interview, that the reality coincides with excellent Frau 
 Werth's description. Our cousin is rather plain than pretty, 
 but looks clever and distinguished, has quiet, pleasing man- 
 ners, in a word, she seems to me entirely presentable, and 
 eminently adapted to indemnify you for the fatiguing society 
 of your Knight of the Rueful Countenance. 
 
 " I seize this favourable opportunity for prostrating myself 
 only metaphorically, alas ! at the smallest feet in the world, 
 and am, as ever, fairest Magelone, 
 
 " Your cousin and slave, 
 
 "OTTO."
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 FUTURE PLANS DECIDED. 
 
 IMMEDIATELY after her father's death, Johanna had re- 
 ceived an affectionate letter from Ludwig, and her grand- 
 father's note was scarcely read before a second budget from 
 Lindenbad brought her letters from each member of the 
 Werner family. 
 
 Old Dr. Werner, after his own simple and cordial manner, 
 begged Johanna to return to them. Mathilde assured her 
 in choice phraseology that she should rejoice to welcome 
 her dear foster-sister, who, she trusted, would not feel too 
 deeply the change from the luxury and freedom from restraint 
 which belonged to an artist's world, to a quiet, monotonous 
 existence spent in devotion to duty. Ludwig, writing in his 
 turn, feared lest he might have wounded her by his bluntness 
 in their last interview, and offered, if for any reason she 
 would avoid living beneath the same roof with him, to spend 
 the winter in Weimar, where he could easily complete his 
 work. 
 
 The advantage that the public library in Weimar would be 
 to him would be an abundant motive to assign for this step, 
 and he added: " What I shall do with myself afterwards I do 
 not know. At all events, all idea of the Lindenbad idyl is 
 relinquished. I pray you to acquaint me unreservedly with 
 your wishes, and I assure you that you will delight us all by 
 coming to us, and most of all your brother 
 
 " LUDWIQ." 
 44
 
 FUTURE PLANS DECIDED. 45 
 
 " How good and kind he is !"' Johanna said to herself. 
 " It is a great pity that, with all his goodness and kindness, 
 he should be so unattractive." 
 
 Otto's image rose in her memory in strong contrast, the 
 elegant ease of his bearing, his courtesy, which occasionally 
 seemed more than mere courtesy, his fine figure and hand- 
 some face. Was her grandfather like him ? And the beau- 
 tiful Magelone, did she really possess everything that he 
 ascribed to her, beauty, wit, talent, amiability? Perhaps 
 he loved her. 
 
 " All are loved save myself," Johanna thought. " I have 
 been here a whole year, and have won no single heart except 
 that of my little sister, who would soon, after the fashion 
 of a child, forget me were I to leave her. Lud wig's love I 
 lost before I knew that I possessed it, and even the father 
 whom I idolized had not a single thought for me in his last 
 moments." 
 
 Her own sentiments, however, she vowed to herself, never 
 should be influenced by this knowledge. As in a sanctuary, 
 she would guard and cherish in her heart the memory of her 
 father and of the lofty service he had rendered to art, and 
 where could she better do this than here, where everything 
 reminded her of him, where she inhaled, as it were, the 
 aroma of his personality? The longer she reflected, the 
 clearer was her conviction that she must stay where she was. 
 
 Nevertheless, she postponed answering her letter from day 
 to day. She had but little time of her own. Since Helena 
 was occupied from morning till night with friends of both 
 sexes, Lisbeth was left to the care of her sister, whose busy 
 hands were, moreover, occupied all day long in completing 
 her step-mother's mourning wardrobe. In the evening, when 
 the child had gone to bed and Helena's visitors had left her, 
 it was Johanna's hard task to listen to the wailing and woe 
 of this undisciplined, unregulated nature. After hours of
 
 46 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 such labour, she would go to her room thoroughly exhausted, 
 and long after Helena was sleeping quietly the poor girl would 
 toss to and fro in her bed, unable, from over-fatigue, to find 
 any repose. 
 
 But one evening Helena made her appearance in her dress- 
 ing-room with dry eyes and an air of important business. 
 Johanna had just put Lisbeth to bed, and was again sitting 
 at her sewing. Her step-mother went hither and thither, 
 restlessly picked up this and that only to lay them down 
 again, and said at last, with averted face, " Johanna, my 
 friends say it is my duty that is, that I owe it to you to 
 speak seriously with you." 
 
 The young girl looked at her inquiringly. 
 
 " We that is, I must arrange some plan for the future ; 
 and you you told me that your grandfather and Dr. Werner 
 have both asked you to come to them. To which of them 
 have you decided to go ?" 
 
 Johanna's heart seemed to stand still. " Must I go away 
 from here ?" she gasped at last. 
 
 Helena turned sharply round towards her. " Dear Jo- 
 hanna, I had not supposed you could be so unreasonable," 
 she said harshly. " Roderich left nothing but debts ; and as 
 for my supporting a step-daughter " 
 
 " Not another word, please, mamma," Johanna interposed. 
 " In my grief I have forgotten all else. The instant that I 
 know that I am a burden to you my resolution is taken." 
 
 " How haughtily you speak 1" Helena complained. " You 
 must know how terribly hard it is for me to have to calculate 
 thus. I had even deliberated whether, in view of your dili- 
 gence and your care of Lisbeth, I might not as well keep 
 you with me instead of paying Lina and a waiting-maid. But 
 Hofrath Leuchtenberg said and that decided me that it 
 would be of the greatest disadvantage to me in my career as 
 an actress to be accompanied by a grown-up daughter."
 
 FUTURE PLANS DECIDED. 47 
 
 She paused. Johanna replied by a mute inclination of hei 
 head. 
 
 '' There might be a way found out of the difficulty," Helena 
 continued. " If you would call me ' Helena,' Lisbeth could 
 call you aunt, and the world would take you for Roderich's 
 sister. You know I am only going to stay here where we are 
 known until New Year. What do you think ?" 
 
 " I thank you !" Johanna made answer. " We had all 
 better be spared this farce ; besides, you know I have no 
 talent as an actress. The part of my father's sister and 
 your waiting-maid would be too difficult for me to under- 
 take." 
 
 With these words she arose and left the room. Helena 
 cast a tearful look towards heaven. " Leuchtenberg is right," 
 she thought ; " Johanna is haughty, obstinate, and heartless. 
 I shall be spared a thousand annoyances by her leaving me. 
 I am only sorry for Lisbeth's sake. The dear little creature 
 really loves her sister, and Johanna seemed to care for her. 
 But it is plain now how much her affection was worth !" 
 
 Johanna passed a sleepless night, but when morning came 
 her mind was made up ; she arose and wrote immediately 
 to Donninghausen and to Lindenbad. Her last letter was to 
 Ludwig, and was as follows : 
 
 " I have just thanked your father and Mathilde for the 
 help they offered me, and have told them that I cannot 
 accept it. Little as my father seemed to care for me, he 
 always provided for me with a lavish hand ; but he has 
 left nothing, and it seems very unjust to burden your father 
 with my maintenance when my grandfather offers me a home 
 beneath his roof. 
 
 " This reason, however, excellent as it is, is not my only 
 one. You offer to leave your father's house if I come to it. 
 That alone would deter me. Finally, you know I am given 
 to selfishness I dread living with Mathilde. No one kuows
 
 48 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 better than I how excellent she is, how dutiful, self-sacri- 
 ficing, and unpretending. But she is strict and literal to a 
 degree that paralyzes and irritates me. Your mother, from 
 whom Mathilde inherits all her good qualities, was, besides, 
 kind and imaginative. Hers was the heart of a child so 
 long as she lived. Your home without her and, let me add, 
 without you could never be mine ; and, since I resign it, 
 I may as well go among entire strangers. 
 
 " If you would lighten my task, my dear Ludwig, remain 
 the connecting link between my past and present. Let me 
 inform you as to my life, and let me hear from you of your 
 work, your plans for the future. However dissatisfied you 
 may be with what I am now, it cannot affect the past, I mean 
 our childhood. Do you not remember how T always from the 
 first sought and found protection with you from Mathilde's 
 tyranny ? It must always be so ; a kind of instinct will al- 
 ways lead me to you whenever I need counsel and help, and 
 I know that you will open to me when I knock. 
 
 " I have told my grandfather, who wrote to me a few days 
 ago, that I am ready to go to him, and that I only wait for 
 his directions with regard to my journey. To part from 
 what is dear to me here my father's grave and my little 
 sister will be hard ; and, besides, I liked the atmosphere in 
 which I lived. Not for the sake of society here ; I knew no 
 one intimately but my father and Lisbeth. But all this ac- 
 tivity and effort in the interest of art, inartistic as its results 
 sometimes might be, interested me, and gave me the sensation 
 of being in my element. 
 
 " But no, this is self-conceit, it was not my element. 
 The histrionic attempt to which I so confidently invited you 
 proved that I do not belong to the elect. ' Devoid of talent 
 as her mother' was iny father's verdict with regard to me ; 
 and when I recall the terrible moment when I stood there, 
 utterly incapable of giving expression to what I felt so vividly
 
 FUTURE PLANS DECIDED. 49 
 
 in my imagination, oh, Ludwig, the anguish of that moment 
 cannot be described in words ! 
 
 " I would that this bitter, mortifying experience had really 
 cured me ; that is, had stifled my desire for the Paradise then 
 closed upon me. But this is not so. During the long days 
 and nights passed beside my dying father, I constantly strug- 
 gled with the old longing. 
 
 " If I could make you comprehend all that this last year 
 with my father has brought to me, you might, perhaps, under- 
 stand me. In all his artistic performances I was beside him in 
 spirit. The strongest chord that he struck, the gentlest har- 
 mony that he awakened, found an answering echo in my 
 heart. When Desdemona, Ophelia, Klarchen seemed like 
 puppets beside his Othello, Hamlet, Egmont, I knew just what 
 they ought to be ; every look, every motion of theirs as it 
 should be, was as clear to my mind as was his own exquisite 
 conception of his part. 
 
 " Was this an inborn gift of mine, inherited from my 
 father? If so, diligent perseverance could have made my 
 clumsy limbs and speech obedient to my will ; but my father's 
 expression, ' Devoid of talent as her mother,' paralyzes my 
 courage, and filial affection bids me to try no further where he 
 can no longer criticise my efforts. Perhaps the creative force 
 which I thought I possessed was but the momentary impres- 
 sion of his genius. I might then have had some measure of 
 success at his side, inspired by his spirit, no great amount, it 
 may be, but we love the moon with its borrowed light, and my 
 Bun might have permitted me to reflect its brilliancy. 
 
 " But this career is ended, and there is nothing for me but 
 to submit. Perhaps my new surroundings will lighten my 
 task ; perhaps I shall find at my grandfather's something to 
 do which will give healthy occupation to my thoughts. And 
 I shall be in the country again, in quiet seclusion. In a 
 sketch-book of my mother's there is a pencil-drawing of Db'n- 
 c d 5
 
 60 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 ninghausen, which I used as a child to contemplate with 
 Eecret longing. The castle, a huge, plain, two-storied pile, 
 with a lofty roof and low bell-tower, stands half-way up the 
 side of a mountain which is crowned with forests and over^ 
 looked by loftier ranges of mountains. Down in the val- 
 ley is the village, with its little old church ; a mountain 
 stream winds through the meadows, and the road beside it 
 ascends the mountain along its course and is lost in the forest. 
 This road always bewitched me ; it was the pathway to all 
 kinds of adventures and wonders, the entrance to a fairy 
 world. So closely is this landscape interwoven with all my 
 childish dreams, that I could go to Donninghausen as to a 
 home, if I could hope to learn to understand or to be under- 
 stood by its inmates. Assuredly the best intentions, the most 
 sincere effort, shall not be wanting on my part. I certainly 
 do possess a certain talent, my only one, for adapting myself 
 to the habits and social life of those with whom I am thrown. 
 May it now stand me in stead ! 
 
 " Farewell for the present. I hope you will read between 
 the lines of this long letter the earnest desire to be under 
 tood by you of 
 
 Yours, J. M
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 AT DONNINGHAUSEN. 
 
 IN the large three-windowed morning-room of Castle Don- 
 ninghausen the old Freiherr was walking to and fro, smoking 
 his long pipe, as was his custom always after breakfast, his 
 huge, tawny dog Leo following, as ever, close at his master's 
 heels. The sister of the lord of the castle sat prim and 
 stately in her usual place by the window, knitting, while at a 
 small table near the chimney-place Magelone and Johann 
 Leopold were playing chess. The fire crackled, the old tall 
 clock ticked, the needles in Aunt Thekla's busy hands clicked, 
 and the Freiherr's footsteps fell regularly upon the rug that 
 covered the floor. The morning was precisely like every one 
 of its predecessors. 
 
 Suddenly the old man went up to the middle one of the three 
 tall windows and gazed out into the flurry of snow that veiled 
 the distant landscape. Leo, amazed at this transgression of 
 traditionary custom, stood still and pricked his ears. 
 
 " Ten," said the Freiberr, as the clock began to strike. 
 " In half an hour Johanna may be here ; at twelve, when I 
 have returned from my ride, I wish to speak with her in my 
 room. She shall receive all the consideration due to my 
 grandchild, but there shall be no interruption of the rules 
 of the house upon her account, nor" his deep voice grew 
 louder, and there was something in it like the mutter of a 
 coming tempest " nor shall her father's name be mentioned 
 in my hearing." 
 
 61
 
 52 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 With these words the Freiherr turned about and left the 
 room, accompanied by Leo. 
 
 So soon as the door closed behind him, Johann Leopold 
 arose. " Allow me, dear Magelone, to postpone the end of 
 our game. I have a headache," he said, passing his hand 
 wearily over his eyes. 
 
 " Just as you please, dear Johann Leopold," Magelone 
 replied, with a gentle smile. He kissed her hand and left 
 the room. She lifted her arms towards heaven. " Thank 
 God, he has gone!" she exclaimed. "Oh, Aunt Thekla, 
 Aunt Thekla, this life is intolerable 1" 
 
 The old lady shook her head so that the gray curls beneath 
 her lace cap trembled. 
 
 " My dear child, you ought not to speak so," she said, in a 
 tone of gentle reproof; "you are going to marry him " 
 
 "Because I choose to, or because I must?" Magelone 
 interposed, going across the room to her great-aunt. " But 
 never mind that ; when we are married it will be better, 
 then I will not stay any longer in Dbnninghausen." 
 
 " You will not leave your old grandfather alone 1" said 
 Aunt Thekla. 
 
 " I am nothing to grandpapa," Magelone answered, with a 
 shrug of her shoulders ; " and as for any entertainment that 
 
 he gets from Johann Leopold But don't be troubled 
 
 about that ; who knows what the new cousin may turn out ? 
 I am very curious. From all that I hear, she will be far too 
 solemn for me, all the better adapted, however, for our 
 croaking household and for Db'nninghausen." 
 
 With these words Magelone hurried to the other end ot 
 the room, seated herself at the grand piano, and began to 
 play a polka ; then suddenly ceasing, she ran back again to 
 her aunt and sat down opposite her. " Can you possibly 
 understand, Aunt Thekla," she asked, " why grandpapa haa 
 sent for this Johanna ? Do not misunderstand me. I have
 
 AT DdNNINGHAUSEN. 53 
 
 no objection to her coming. We can yawn together, even if 
 she is good for nothing else. But why grandpapa, who can- 
 not endure the sound of her family name, did not rather 
 board her somewhere " 
 
 " I asked myself the same question," her aunt replied ; 
 " and the only answer I can find to it, knowing him as I do, 
 is that he yearns to see his Agnes's child. Believe me, dear, 
 he is not so hard-hearted as he chooses to appear." 
 
 " But he banished his daughter !" Magelone exclaimed. 
 
 <f He did what he thought was his duty, and no one knew 
 how he suffered in doing so," the old lady rejoined. " Agnes 
 was his darling. How enraptured he was when, after his 
 three boys, the youngest, your father, was eleven years old, 
 a daughter was born to him ! Although he was thought a 
 strict father, he could deny his Agnes nothing. Everybody 
 in the house did as she pleased, and did it gladly, for she was 
 a gentle, tender-hearted creature. But she grew too dreamy 
 and imaginative in this solitude, and when my sister-in-law 
 at last had her way and sent her for a year to boarding-school, 
 where she had companions of her own age, it was too late. 
 At her very first entrance into society she fell in love with 
 that man, that actor, and there was no help for it." 
 
 " How inconceivable it is, this falling so desperately in 
 love !" said Magelone. 
 
 Aunt Thekla dropped her knitting and gazed at her niece 
 through her eye-glasses. " Are you in earnest ?" she asked. 
 " Can you really not understand it ?" 
 
 Magelone's eyes sparkled strangely, reminding one of sun- 
 shine upon rippling water. 
 
 " Oh, Aunt Thekla, you think I mean it 1" she exclaimed, 
 and laughed like a child. 
 
 " No, not exactly," said the old lady ; " but I cannot deny 
 that I am sometimes anxious. 'Tis all the better for you if 
 you are only flirting, but I pity the poor lad." 
 
 6*
 
 54 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 ' The poor lad !" Magelone repeated. " Does that mean 
 Otto ? Aunt, you are perfectly heavenly ; I must give you a 
 kiss !" And she sprang up and threw her arms around Aunt 
 Thekla's neck. " Let me assure you that it is a question 
 which of us is flirting the most. When men attempt any- 
 thing in that line their achievements are wonderful 
 
 Hark I there comes a carriage. It is Johanna !" she inter- 
 rupted herself, and, beginning to sing, ' For her I sigh,' in 
 a rather weak but melodious voice, she ran out of the room. 
 
 In the corridor she walked more deliberately. " Remember 
 your dignity, Magelone," she said to herself, " no farther 
 than the head of the staircase." But when she reached the 
 head of the staircase, and Johanna's pale face shrouded in 
 black crape, her large eyes dimmed with weeping looked up 
 at her, dignity was entirely forgotten. Holding out bwth 
 hands, she hurried to meet the guest, exclaiming, " Johanna ! 
 Cousin Johanna ! I am Magelone 1" And she clasped her in 
 her arms. 
 
 Johanna was mute with amazement. Otto's expressions 
 had led her to imagine Magelone's beauty to be of a dazzling 
 superb kind, instead of which here was a fairy-like creature, 
 with childlike eyes and a winning grace of manner. 
 
 " Poor Johanna, how tired you look !" Magelone continued. 
 " And how you shiver 1 you are chilled through and 
 through " 
 
 " Yes ; I have been travelling all night," said Johanna. 
 And her teeth chattered as she spoke. 
 
 " Poor child, I suppose I ought to take you directly to 
 Aunt Thekla, but you must first rest and get warm. Here," 
 and Magelone opened the door of a spacious, well-warmed 
 apartment, " here is a quiet room ; and now tell me what 
 you would like. Shall I send you a maid, or will you have 
 breakfast?" 
 
 " Thank you ; I should like to sleep," was Johanna's reply.
 
 AT D6NNINGHAUSEN. 55 
 
 Magelone helped her take off her hat and wraps. " Then 
 lie down here," and she led her to a huge lounge, " and I 
 will see that you are not disturbed until it is time to dress 
 for dinner." 
 
 She turned to go. Johanna took both her hands. 
 *' Thanks !" she said, with emotion ; " your reception of me 
 has done me so much good " 
 
 " But you have not yet called me Magelone !" was the 
 laughing interruption. " But don't force yourself to it, it 
 will come of itself." With these words she kissed the young 
 girl's forehead and left her alone. 
 
 " She is charming," thought Johanna, as her weary head 
 sank back among the cushions. " If every one here is as 
 kind, I have been very silly to have any dread of Donning- 
 hausen." And she fell asleep with a lightened heart, the 
 rumble and rush of the railroad train still buzzing in her 
 ears. 
 
 Suddenly she started. " Ten minutes for refreshments !" 
 had just rung through her dream. She awoke to find herself, 
 to her surprise, in the spacious dim room. The door opened, 
 and an old gentleman entered, with a large dog beside him. 
 
 " Grandfather !" she cried, and would have risen. 
 
 He approached her quickly. " Sit still ! sit still !" he 
 said, with a commanding gesture, as he took a seat beside her 
 couch. " My old Christian tells me that you are exhausted 
 with your journey, and therefore I came here to see you, and 
 to release you, if you like, from coming to dinner to-day." 
 
 Whilst the Freiherr spoke, his cold blue eyes rested 
 searchingly upon the girl. She bore the look bravely. 
 
 " Thank you, that is not necessary ; my sleep has greatly 
 refreshed me," she replied. 
 
 " So much the better," said the old man. " You still look 
 pale and tired, but that will pass away. You do not look 
 like your mother," he went on, after a pause, in a gentler tone.
 
 56 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 11 but you have her low gentle voice, and there is something 
 in your smile " 
 
 He broke off and turned away his head. At this moment 
 the dog, who had been sniffing about Johanna, reared him- 
 self and put his large forepaws upon her shoulders. " Down, 
 Leo, down !" the Freiherr called. The animal obeyed, but 
 Johanna stroked its huge head caressingly, and it fawned 
 at her feet. 
 
 " Why, look ! Leo, usually so slow to make acquaintance, 
 has accepted you upon the spot," the old man said, with a 
 gratified air. " That, too, you get from your mother, all 
 animals liked her. Now I will leave you alone. After din- 
 ner you shall be presented to your grand-aunt, my sister 
 Thekla. Until then, my child, adieu." 
 
 He arose and held out his hand ; suddenly he drew her to 
 him and kissed her. " God bless your home-coming !" he 
 murmured ; then he walked towards the door, turning round, 
 however, before he reached it, and saying, in his usual im- 
 perious way, " From this time, Johanna, you belong en- 
 tirely to us. "We shall all call you by your first name, and you 
 will be one of the family, to the rules of which you must 
 conform. Come to me if any occasion should arise for your 
 wanting advice." 
 
 With these words he departed. 
 
 " I hope we shall be fond of each other," Johanna thought, 
 " He is kinder than his letter led me to imagine him. And 
 how handsome he is, with his white hair, his proud stern air, 
 his bright eyes beneath their bushy eyebrows, and his erect 
 martial figure ! In his coarse shooting-jacket, leather breeches, 
 and riding-boots, he is the most distinguished-looking man I 
 have ever seen." 
 
 Grand-aunt Thekla, too, to whom Johanna was presented 
 before dinner by Magelone, received her kindly, although 
 after a prim fashion of her own, and Cousin Johann Leopold,
 
 AT DdNNINGHAU&EN. 57 
 
 upon his introduction to her in the dining-room, offered the 
 tips of his cold fingers, and expressed a hope that she would 
 be pleased with Donninghausen. 
 
 Altogether, it had the effect upon Johanna of the scene 
 of a fairy-tale : the spacious dining-hall, its wainscoting and 
 ceiling of dark oak ; a huge green porcelain stove at one end, 
 at the other a buffet, whence shot mysterious gleams from 
 glass and silver in the light of the chandelier ; the assembled 
 family, contrasting so strongly with one another, Johann 
 Leopold in evening dress ; Aunt Thekla in gray satin and 
 black lace ; Magelone in a faultless toilette of rose-coloured 
 'silk, flounced and furbelowed ; Johanna in her deep mourning, 
 and the Freiherr in his riding-dress. 
 
 There was no conversation. Sometimes the Freiherr asked 
 a question briefly and in a gruff voice, receiving as brief and 
 satisfactory an answer as possible from whomsoever he ad- 
 dressed, and then for a space of time no sound would be 
 audible save the rattle of knives and forks and the hushed 
 footsteps of the two men-servants. Besides these last, old 
 Christian, Johanna's escort, stood behind his master's chair, 
 his only office, apparently, being to fill the Freiherr's glass 
 and to pick up the napkin which the old gentleman continu- 
 ally let fall. 
 
 It was a protracted meal : the Freiherr had a good appe- 
 tite and ate slowly. He grew more talkative at dessert, dis- 
 cussed affairs of the estate with Johann Leopold, asked Aunt 
 Thekla about some sick people in the village, ^inquired of 
 Johanna how long she had been in reaching Donninghausen, 
 and made a contemptuous remark about Magelone's ' ball- 
 dress.' 
 
 At last he arose, and every one seemed to breathe more 
 freely. He gave his arm to his sister: Johann Leopold 
 offered his to Magelone. 
 
 " You must take us both," she said. " Come, Johanna."
 
 58 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 " I should like to go to my room," the girl whispered. 
 Magelone shook her head. 
 
 " You must not ; we are all on duty now. Come," she said, 
 in a low voice, as she followed the brother and sister into the 
 drawing-room. 
 
 Here the lamps were lit, and the coffee-equipage was set 
 oui: upon a table before a lounge. There was another table 
 near the fireplace, provided with candles and newspapers, and 
 BO soon as the Freiherr had taken his arm-chair beside it old 
 Christian made his appearance with a pipe and box of matches, 
 followed by Leo, who pushed his head affectionately into his 
 master's hand and then lay down at his feet. Aunt Thekla 
 sat down opposite her brother with her knitting ; Johann 
 Leopold withdrew to a dark corner on the other side of the 
 chimney-piece. 
 
 " Are you in pain again ?" the Freiherr asked him, in a 
 tone which expressed more irritation than sympathy. 
 
 " Yes, sir ; I have another of my old headaches," Johann 
 Leopold replied, and the ghastly pallor of his handsome but 
 emaciated face, and the look of suffering in his eyes, were 
 confirmation of his words. 
 
 The Freiherr picked up the paper with a growl, and pushed 
 his chair nearer the light. 
 
 " Come," said Magelone, taking possession of Johanna, " I 
 will initiate you into the mysteries of my coffee-brewing ; you 
 can relieve me sometimes in future." And while she was 
 clattering among her cups and saucers she went on in an 
 undertone, " This goes on every day the same. Now we 
 shall all take coffee ; if grandpapa finds anything interesting 
 in the paper he reads it aloud ; when Johann Leopold conde- 
 scends to be well he reads the paper, after which grandpapa 
 and Aunt Thekla play backgammon, and / give you a little 
 music. Are you musical ?" she asked in a louder tone. 
 
 " Unfortunately, no," Johanna replied.
 
 AT DdNNINOHAUSEN. 59 
 
 " Perhaps you draw ?" Magelone asked further. 
 
 " No, I do not. I have no talent at all," Johanna declared, 
 with some mortification. 
 
 " None at all ?" the Freiherr said, and his eyes gleamed 
 brightly over his newspaper. " Actually none ? So much the 
 better, child, so much the better 1" 
 
 Johanna understood the meaning of such words from hei 
 grandfather. This was the gulf that separated them.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE PREIHERR'S PRINCIPLES. 
 
 WHEN the next morning Johanna went to her window, she 
 could not repress an exclamation of delight. Her room 
 looked from a gable of the castle out into the park. In front 
 of it an aged oak stretched its gnarled limbs above a little 
 clearing ; around it stood magnificent hemlocks, their boughs 
 drooping to the ground beneath a weight of snow ; while on 
 the right the only vista through the trees afforded a view 
 of the snowy roofs and the little church of the village in the 
 valley, of a row of stunted willows, probably marking the 
 course of a stream, and of the wooded mountain-sides 
 crowned by curiously-jagged rocks. 
 
 It was a peaceful landscape, such as she loved, and had the 
 added charm of the brilliant sunlight shining upon the glit- 
 tering snow in the clear wintry atmosphere. It attracted her 
 irresistibly to go out into the open air. The breakfast-hour 
 was nine o'clock : she had half an hour to spare ; and she 
 wrapped herself up and hurried out into the park. 
 
 She soon found a pathway, but walking on the dry snow 
 was hard work, and she had to return long before the limits 
 of the park had been reached. 
 
 As she ascended the terrace steps in front of the castle, she 
 saw her grandfather standing at a window of the lower story. 
 She called up a ' good-morning !' to him ; he acknowledged 
 her greeting, but his look and air were so gloomy that she 
 feared she had transgressed some rule of the house, and be- 
 took herself to the dining-room with a certain timidity. 
 60
 
 THE FREIHERR'S PRINCIPLES. 61 
 
 Her fears were groundless, however. When the customary 
 morning salutations had been exchanged and all had taken 
 their seats at table, the Freiherr said, " I am glad to see, 
 Johanna, that you are not one of these silly, new-fangled 
 girls. Out in the open air before breakfast, that's right, 
 child ! But 'tis hard walking over" the soft snow. Can you 
 ride ?" 
 
 Johanna replied in the negative. 
 
 " Should you like to learn ?" her grandfather asked, and 
 when she said ' yes,' with sparkling eyes, he added, " Very 
 well ; be ready by half-past twelve, and we will make our first 
 trial. Christian will give orders to have Elinor saddled for 
 you ; she's the gentlest creature in the world." 
 
 " She threw me," Magelone remarked. 
 
 " Your own fault !" the Freiherr exclaimed. " A horse is 
 a noble creature ; those who would control it must keep a 
 tight rein upon themselves. It rebels against alternations 
 between childish foolhardiness and childish timidity. By the 
 way, Magelone, when do you wish to begin riding again ?" 
 
 " Not at all, grandpapa," Magelone replied, with gentle 
 decision. 
 
 "Nonsense!" exclaimed the Freiherr. " A Dbnninghausen 
 and not ride on horseback ! Why, your cousins Hildegard 
 and Hedwig are perfect Amazons." 
 
 " You will have to reconcile yourself to leaving me out of 
 the family in this respect as in several others," Magelone 
 replied, as gently as before, but with a flash in her eyes that 
 betrayed her irritation. " Probably you will find Johanca 
 more truly of the race." 
 
 Aunt Thekla and Johann Leopold looked up startled ; the 
 Freiherr tossed his head, and his eyes darted fire at Magelone, 
 but his glance fell upon Johanna, who, paler than usual, cast 
 down her eyes, and he controlled his displeasure. Magelone 
 went on eating as if nothing had occurred j the Freiherr turned 
 
 6
 
 62 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 with some question to Johann Leopold. The meal concluded 
 as monosyllabically as usual, and the members of the house- 
 hold continued as silent after it was finished ; and while the 
 Freiherr smoked his morning pipe, Johann Leopold and 
 Magelone played chess, and Aunt Thekla and Johanna busied 
 themselves with some needlework. 
 
 Johanna was puzzled by Magelone ; the more she reflected 
 upon her words the more she was convinced that they could 
 not have been thoughtlessly uttered, and yet was it possible 
 that that careless air, that gentle smile, those clear eyes, could 
 conceal petty spite ? 
 
 Her ride with her grandfather put an end to her reflections. 
 Martin, the groom, who, before her grandfather appeared, 
 tried to initiate her somewhat into the rudiments of his art, 
 declared with a grin that the " gracious Fraulein was sure to 
 be a good rider." The Freiherr, when he saw her sitting 
 gayly and confidently in her saddle, said, " Now hold yourself 
 upright, and don't be afraid." And away they went in the 
 clear winter morning, with Leo at their heels. 
 
 Johanna returned warmed and refreshed. Her grand- 
 father had not talked much, but the little that he had said, 
 the few questions he had put, had brought them nearei 
 together. 
 
 Under the influence of this impression she sat down at hci 
 writing-table to tell Ludwig, as she had promised, of her ar- 
 rival ; but she had scarcely written two lines when there waa 
 a knock at her door, and Magelone entered. " I am disturbing 
 you," she said, with her sunniest smile, " but I cannot help 
 it. I must beg your pardon, I said such a horrid thing at 
 the breakfast-table." 
 
 She approached Johanna and offered her her hand. 
 
 " Never mind," Johanna replied, clasping the delicate hand 
 in both her own. " I thought you spoke hastily." 
 
 Magelone shook her head. " No, it was not exactly that"
 
 THE FREIHERR'S PRINCIPLES. 63 
 
 And she seated herself at the writing-table. " You have no 
 idea how childish I am. It vexed me to have grandpapa 
 praise you at my expense, and I had to say that, citait plus 
 fort que moi." 
 
 " ' Confessions of a fair soul,' " said Johanna. 
 
 " You are laughing. Oh, you are good and kind 1" Mage- 
 bne declared. "I never will be cross to you again. I will 
 love you so dearly. Believe me, Johanna, I have always 
 wanted some one like you." 
 
 " You hardly know me," said Johanna. 
 
 " But I know that you have everything which I lack. 
 The repose of your manner, how I envy and admire you 
 for it! You can sit perfectly quiet all the while grandpapa 
 is reading the papers. It drives me about like a will-o'-the- 
 wisp." 
 
 " That is your nature," Johanna rejoined. " There is 
 always something about you, not like a will-o'-the-wisp, but 
 like a rippling wave." 
 
 Magelone shook her head. " Far more like a will-o'-the- 
 wisp. The wave has its goal, flows in a destined course ; I 
 go I know not whither." 
 
 " But you are gay and happy ; what more would you have?" 
 exclaimed Johanna. 
 
 Magelone replied, "Not always. Latterly I have been 
 rather gloomy than gay. What do you think of Johann 
 Leopold ?" she added, after a pause. 
 
 " I cannot judge yet," Johanna replied. " I have hardly 
 talked with him." 
 
 " He does not talk," Magelone interrupted her. " He is 
 just what you have seen him day out and day in. It is the 
 same with every one. Grandpapa is always dictatorial, Aunt 
 Thekla always good and tiresome, Johann Leopold always odd. 
 Doesn't he look like the marble guest?" 
 
 " He looks melancholy and ill."
 
 64 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 " And yet he has no positive complaint that I know of," 
 eaid Magelone. " His hobby is chemistry. Whenever he is 
 not on duty with grandpapa he is shut up in his laboratory i& 
 the garden, with all sorts of sounds and smells. It is a per- 
 fect witch's kitchen there. Can you imagine an odder match 
 than he and myself?" 
 
 " Magelone!" cried Johanna. " You do not mean to say " 
 
 " Yes, yes ; we wish or rather we ought to marry," Mage- 
 lone interposed. " Grandpapa devised the match, and of course 
 it must be. I am a widow ; Johann Leopold's betrothed 
 died ; I have lost my property ; he is the heir. We are equals 
 in rank ; he is thirty years old, I am twenty-one. In short, 
 the match is the most suitable that can be imagined." 
 
 " But you will not consent?" 
 
 " What am I to do?" Magelone asked, shrugging her shoul- 
 ders. " I am spoiled. Poor Willfried ran through all my 
 money to the last farthing. I have no chance of making 
 conquests in this wilderness; and, besides, who would marry a 
 widow with no money ?" 
 
 " Whoever loved her." 
 
 " Do you believe in love ?" asked Magelone. " I don't. 
 All I have seen of what is called love was mere play. People 
 flirt, and try to befool one another, to outdo a rival, but love, 
 which might induce one to contract a disadvantageous mar- 
 riage, never. Marriage is a business transaction." 
 
 '' Yours does not seem to have been such," Johanna said. 
 
 " Do you suppose I was enamoured of my stout captain ?" 
 asked Magelone. " Not in the least ! It suited me to marry 
 before I was quite eighteen an officer of the Garde du Corps ; 
 it suited me to go to Berlin, and to court ; but I never im- 
 agined for a moment that Willfried would forego his ballet- 
 girls and his cards for longer than the honeymoon. My folly 
 lay in never reflecting upon how quickly a fortune may be 
 gambled away. My good father ought to have thought of
 
 THE FREIHERR'S PRINCIPLES. 65 
 
 that ; but he was ill, and wanted to sec me established, as they 
 say, before his death, and so it all happened." 
 
 " Poor child !" said Johanna, taking her hand. " It waa 
 the fault of circumstances. You will learn to look upon life 
 differently. Only have courage, and hope." 
 
 "If I could!" Magelone said, her melancholy smile con- 
 trasting oddly with her sparkling eyes. " Do you know I 
 sometimes fancy that I liave no heart ? It has something to 
 do with my name. The water-witch Magelone, after whom I 
 am called, bequeathed to me her own uncanny nature." 
 
 " No, no ; you will learn to love," Johanna interrupted. She 
 thought of Otto, and of the way in which he had spoken of 
 Magelone. " You are not actually betrothed yet?" she added. 
 
 ' Not yet," Magelone replied. " Thus far grandpapa has 
 only informed us both, Johann Leopold and myself, of his 
 desire. He called us into his study and addressed us very 
 solemnly." 
 
 " And you ?" Johanna asked. 
 
 " Johann Leopold bowed, as he always does, like an autom- 
 aton, cela n engage a rien, and I suppose I smiled. But 
 what does it matter what we say ? You may be sure that if 
 we employed all the eloquence in the world to combat grand- 
 papa's arrangements it would avail nothing. At Christmas, 
 when all the noble family are assembled here, the betrothal 
 will take place, and at the hour that grandpapa shall appoint 
 we shall stand before the altar and exchange rings whether 
 we will or not." 
 
 " That I cannot understand," said Johanna. 
 
 " You will understand it when you have once seen how 
 terrible grandpapa's anger is," Magelone rejoined, " when 
 he frowns, and his eyes flash from beneath his bushy white 
 eyebrows, and his voice thunders and roars. It occurs but 
 rarely, but the terror of it is in our very blood, or has been 
 taught us from childhood, I cannot tell which." 
 6*
 
 66 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 " Did you ever see grandpapa so ?" asked Johanna. 
 
 " Only once, when Otto, who is very hasty, had boxed the 
 forester's ears. Grandpapa roared out that so to treat ao 
 honest man, who could not demand satisfaction for the insult, 
 was the act of a blackguard ; Otto was not worthy to bear the 
 name of Donninghausen. As I tell it it seems nothing, but 
 when grandpapa flew out at the poor boy I really thought he 
 would have felled him to the earth, and every one present it 
 happened during the charmingly social hour after breakfast 
 was petrified with horror." 
 
 " But grandpapa was right !" exclaimed Johanna. " Cousin 
 Otto must have acknowledged that, for he speaks of him with 
 the greatest reverence, and calls him a nobleman in the fullest 
 sense of the word." 
 
 Magelone shrugged her shoulders. " My dear child, that 
 is the Db'nninghausen craze. They all imagine that because 
 they bear this name they are superior to all other human 
 beings; and since they are not so, I mean the younger gen- 
 eration, they fall down and worship the old gentleman, in 
 whom the family craze has become flesh and blood. But what 
 have we to do with that?" she went on, jumping up and 
 throwing her arms around Johanna. " You are not weighted 
 with the sacred name. I have, for a while at least, thrown 
 it aside, and I only wish we could really and truly enjoy 
 life. There it goes again !" she added, with an expression of 
 comic despair, " that dreadful bell, for the second breakfast, 
 and then four vacant hours before it rings again to call us to 
 dinner. Poor Johanna ! Day after day passes here, each the 
 exact counterpart of these last twenty-four hours, year out, 
 year in, and there is nothing for it but to lament with Heine' a 
 Proserpine, 
 
 ' Mid corpses pale, 
 While Lemurs wail, 
 To grieve away my youthful days.' *
 
 THE FRE1HERRS PRINCIPLES. 67 
 
 Whilst Magelone was revealing this melancholy prospect to 
 the new inmate of the castle, the Freiherr had gone to his 
 sister in the morning-room, where, as he paced to and fro after 
 his wonted fashion, with his hands clasped behind him, he 
 said, " I am surprised and delighted to find how well Jo- 
 hanna suits us. Although she has been here so short a time, 
 I seem nearer to her than to Magelone." 
 
 " Yes, because she has more soul," said the old lady. 
 
 The Freiherr shrugged his shoulders. " My dear Thekla, 
 what is her soul to me? She is clever and strange as it 
 sounds, and much as the word irritated me, coming from Mag- 
 elone she has race. More than any other of my grandchildren 
 is she flesh of my flesh and bone of my bone." 
 
 Aunt Thekla nodded assent, and the Freiherr went on : 
 
 " It makes me anxious, too. What is to become of the 
 child ? She does not belong in our circle. She is too good to 
 be married to one of these new-fangled noblemen, who, in 
 spite of their descent, are quite ready to throw themselves 
 away upon any peasant's or tradesman's daughter provided 
 she has money ; and to allow her to fall back into a rank which 
 would separate her from us entirely, a great pity, a great 
 pity!" 
 
 " But must she of necessity be married ?" asked Aunt 
 Thekla. 
 
 " Of course !" said the Freiherr. 
 
 " I have not been " the old lady began. 
 
 Her brother interrupted her. " But you were betrothed to 
 one your equal in rank. Since you vowed fidelity to your 
 lover before his death, I respected your vow, much as it went 
 against the grain with me." 
 
 u Dear Johann, will you not likewise respect the desire of 
 Johann Leopold's heart ?" asked Aunt Thekla. 
 
 The Freiherr turned short and stood before her. " Has the 
 lad complained, taken refuge behind a petticoat ?"
 
 68 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 " Not at all," his sister interposed. " He has not said a 
 word ; I heard it from Magelone. And I know Johann Leo- 
 pold's heart ; I know that he has not yet recovered Albertine's 
 loss." 
 
 " Nonsense !" cried the Freiherr. " It is his duty, as the 
 heir, to marry. He knows it perfectly, and when a suitable 
 partie is offered him without his looking for her or courting 
 her, I promise you he'll say yes and amen without a word." 
 
 Aunt Thekla shook her head dubiously. 
 
 " Do you call it a suitable partie f she said. " I fear that 
 Magelone, with her love of amusement and her superficiality, 
 will make Johann Leopold unhappy, or that he will make her 
 so." 
 
 " I do not think so," said the Freiherr. " On the contrary, 
 she will spirit him up, and he will tone her down ; a very 
 good thing for both. The stronger will get the upper hand, 
 I don't care which it is. My duty is to look out for the 
 continuance of the family intrusted to my care." 
 
 "Dear Johann, do not take it amiss, but it strikes me that 
 you look out for it rather too much," the old lady said, tim- 
 idly. 
 
 " Too much !" the Freiherr repeated, pausing again before 
 his sister, and his eyes flashed. " Do you really think that 
 too much can be done in this age of indifference and degen- 
 eracy? I can understand such a thought in the younger 
 generation, which is for the most part senseless and object- 
 less, and finds it easiest to swim with the current. But I 
 I hoped you knew this without needing my assertion I 
 have sworn to stand fast as long as I can, and to hold fast 
 as much as I may. We have been taught, and we have be- 
 lieved, that, like everything else on earth, the differences of 
 rank are instituted and decreed by the Almighty. Since 
 when has this not been so ?" 
 
 He paused, and seemed to expect a reply, but the increas-
 
 THE FREIHERR'S PRINCIPLES. 69 
 
 ing violence of his tone and manner had intimidated his sister. 
 She sat mute, with downcast eyes ; and after a pause he went 
 on : 
 
 " I do not wish to find fault with those who think other- 
 wise. 1848 thinned our ranks. But for those who believe 
 as I do it is all the more an imperative duty to assert them- 
 selves. I have done so. I have made great sacrifices to my 
 convictions, and I feel that I have thereby purchased the right, 
 so long as my eyes are cpen to the light, to provide for Don- 
 ninghausen according to the dictates of my reason and my 
 conscience. If you think I do too much well, I must endure 
 that reproach." 
 
 The old lady went up to her brother. " Dear Johann," she 
 said, laying her hand upon his arm, " how can you suppose 
 that any one of us would reproach you ? We know that you 
 always do what is best, and we thank you from our hearts." 
 
 " That I don't believe, neither is it necessary," the Freiherr 
 interrupted her. " I do my confounded duty, fulfil my obli- 
 gations, basta ! Has not the lad, Johann Leopold, had his 
 own way hitherto in everything ? He has studied what he 
 chose, where he chose ; he has travelled for years ; has been 
 betrothed to the girl whom he loved, and what is the result ? 
 He has come to be a mollycoddle and a bookworm. My suc- 
 cessor, the Lord of Dbnninghausen, must be none of that. At 
 all events, an attempt must be made to spirit him up by a 
 marriage with Magelone, and so the betrothal is fixed for 
 Christmas, the marriage for Easter. But come, Thekla, the 
 bell rang some time ago."
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 JOHANNA TO LUDWIQ. 
 
 " DONNINGHAUSEK, Dec. 19, 1873. 
 
 "... I have been here just a fortnight to-day, and feel en- 
 tirely at home. You cannot fancy how, after the sorrow and 
 agitation through which I so lately passed, I am soothed and 
 rested by the quiet life here, with its regular methodical occu- 
 pations. I accompany my grandfather every morning in his 
 rides to inspect his saw-mill, his wood-cutting, and his farms, 
 and in the evening I read aloud to him the newspapers and 
 magazines, an office silently transferred to me by Johann Leo- 
 pold. In the course of the day I go with Aunt Thekla to see 
 her poor people and the sick in the village, or we sew, or knit 
 Christmas-presents for her protegees. Aunt Thekla is a gentle 
 kindly soul. When Magelone awhile ago laughed at us for 
 taking such pains to manufacture what could so easily be 
 bought in any town, she said, ' You cannot imagine how I en- 
 joy the thought that the work of my hands, which would else 
 have nothing to do, may keep certain little feet warm as they 
 run to school on some cold morning, or may help to make tho 
 winter less intolerable for the aged and bedridden.' Magelone 
 could not understand this, or perhaps she did not choose to 
 understand it. She is a puzzle to me ; I cannot discover 
 whether she is really superficial by nature, or whether she 
 tries to become so. She wants to be entertained, amused, but 
 every serious book tires her, all really fine music gives her the 
 headache, although she is not frightened by technical difficul- 
 ties, and o conversation she insists upon changing the subject 
 70
 
 JOHANNA TO LUDWIG. 71 
 
 if it turns upon anything save dress and society. Nevertheless, 
 she is admirably endowed intellectually as well as physically, 
 and the charm that she had for me when I first saw her has 
 grown with time. There is something odd and striking about 
 her that rivets erne's interest. She is really short in stature, 
 and yet her graceful lithe figure in her long trains seems that 
 of a tall, slender woman ; her hair is light brown or golden, 
 according as the light falls on it ; her eyes one would call blue, 
 another gray, and a third green, and they would all be right ; 
 her smile is that of a child, but in an instant there will be 
 something arch, mocking, even sneering, in it. One moment 
 she will call me awkward, pedantic, the next I am her com- 
 fort, her stay, the friend for whom she has been longing. For 
 a moment her whim will be enthusiasm, and on a sudden she 
 will turn herself and everybody else into ridicule. Whether 
 she enjoys doing this or not I cannot say; I suspect she hardly 
 knows herself. 
 
 " Johann Leopold's seeming indifference to her is very ex- 
 traordinary. Although she tells me that she thinks him 
 'awfully tiresome,' she sometimes makes a brilliant display of 
 coquetry in his honour, on which occasions he gazes at her with 
 lack-lustre eyes, not smiling at all, and even, if possible, making 
 no reply to her sallies. And these two are to marry each 
 other. Can you understand it ? 
 
 " This morning I had a little adventure that gave me some 
 insight into Johann Leopold's character ; until then I really 
 had not discovered in him one human emotion. Grandpapa 
 had an attack of gout, consequently could not ride out, and 
 was annoyed that his absence would delay some operations 
 going on in the new clearing. I offered to ride thither with 
 Martin ; so I received my instructions and set forth. 
 
 " Beyond the village, in the valley, we met a labourer's wife, 
 who told me with tears that she was obliged to run to the 
 drug-shop, at least a mile and a half distant, for some medi-
 
 72 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 cine for her sick husband, who must thus be left alone with a 
 little girl only six years old. Of course I sent the woman 
 pack to her patient's bedside, despatching Martin upon her er- 
 rand, and struck into my beloved forest-path up the mountain 
 alone, or ratter under Leo's protection. 
 
 " I had never ridden in this direction except in grandpapa's 
 company, when I had enjoyed immensely the grand old 
 beeches at the beginning of the way, the views of the village 
 of Db'nninghausen, and of the opposite hills, which open 
 out as the path ascends the mountain-side, leading to the 
 oaost magnificent hemlocks that I have ever seen. Of the 
 realm of magic and enchantment of which I dreamed as I 
 looked at my mother's sketch of Donninghausen I found no 
 trace. 
 
 " To-day, however, the forest-sprites seemed determined to 
 lead me astray. Although, as far as I knew, I turned into 
 the forest at the right point, the hemlocks would not appear. 
 The path seemed uncommonly steep; on the left, crags which 
 I did not recognize thrust themselves forth from the shrub- 
 bery, but yet I could not make up my mind to turn back. 
 Perhaps this way also might lead to my destination. At all 
 events, fresh footprints in the snow were evidence that both 
 men and horses had preceded me shortly before ; and I rode 
 on and on, although forced to believe that my goal lay more 
 to the right. The desire to explore had taken possession of 
 me. I could not but go on ! The air wae exhilarating in its 
 freshness, the sun shone, the snow glittered upon the trees 
 and bushes ; the rocks on my left grew more huge ; gnarled 
 roots twisted out from crevice and fissure ; a flock of scream- 
 ing crows flew overhead, making the only sound to be heard, 
 save the rustling among the trees and the snorting of my 
 horse. 
 
 " At last T had been riding perhaps an hour I reached 
 a small plateau shaded by oaks ; across my way ran a rude
 
 JOHANNA TO LUDWIG. 73 
 
 fence, the gate in which my clever Leo opened, and soon after 
 a peaked roof, with a smoking chimney, appeared among some 
 hemlocks. As I approached, the horns nailed above the door 
 told that it was a forester's lodge, and I was greeted by the 
 loud barking of five or six dogs, the only living creatures to 
 be seen. 
 
 " I alighted, fastened Elinor's bridle to a tree, and, open- 
 ing the door, entered followed by the noisy pack, which Leo 
 haughtily disdained to notice a hall, around which were sev- 
 eral doors. I knocked at the right-hand one of these, no 
 answer ; at the left, where I heard voices, and instantly the 
 door was opened. An elderly woman, with an air of distress, 
 appeared, and in the background of the long, dim apartment 
 there stood, by a curtained bed, a figure which seemed familiar 
 to me. ' Johann Leopold !' I exclaimed involuntarily; and I 
 was not mistaken : he whom I addressed turned and came 
 quickly towards me. 
 
 " ' Johanna, what brings you here?' he cried, with a certain 
 confusion of manner; and when I replied that I had lost 
 my way, he begged the woman to take me to her sitting-room, 
 promising to join me in a few moments. 
 
 " She conducted me to the opposite room ; hurriedly offered 
 me some refreshment ; begged pardon for leaving me alone, since 
 she must assist the gentleman with his patient, and vanished. 
 
 " I could not but see that my arrival here had been inop- 
 portune, and I was just pondering whether I had not better 
 make good my retreat without waiting for Johann Leopold, 
 when there arose a loud barking again, and a forester whom I 
 had now and then met when with my grandfather passed the 
 window. 
 
 " ' Wife !' he called out, as he entered the house, and then 
 
 I heard him ask what the deuce was the meaning of the Dbn- 
 
 ninghausen horse with the side saddle, and whether the old 
 
 kdy had come. I could not hear the woman's reply, but the 
 
 D 7
 
 74 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 man declared in a harsh tone that he had had enough of 
 secrets ; the fellow must leave the house to-day, for no one 
 could expect him to risk his daily bread for the sake of such 
 a good-for-nothing. He must leave immediately. 
 
 " ' Fritz ! Fritz ! it may be his death, and he is my brother !* 
 the woman wailed. The man cut short her words with an 
 oath ; but Johann Leopold's voice was now heard telling him 
 to be quiet, and all three came into the room together, the 
 woman with her apron at her eyes, the man with gloomy 
 looks, and Johann Leopold with an air of energy that sur- 
 prised me. 
 
 "'Dear Johanna,' he said, as the forester bowed sullenly, 
 ( chance has here made you acquainted with circumstances 
 which must be withheld from our grandfather. You surely 
 will promise me and these worthy people to say nothing of 
 what you have seen, will you not ?' 
 
 " ' With all my heart,' I replied. 
 
 " The forester shrugged his shoulders. ' A young lady's 
 promise ' he began. 
 
 " ' Kruger, remember to whom you are speaking,' Johann 
 Leopold interrupted him authoritatively. ' My cousin's prom- 
 ise is as my own. I am going now to saddle my horse, and 
 meanwhile you will explain the matter to her.' 
 
 " With these words he left the room, and the woman followed 
 him. The forester gave him an angry look and then turned 
 to me. 
 
 " ' There's not much to explain,' he said, crossly. ' Red Jakob, 
 my wife's brother, is a good-for-nothing fellow, a brawler and 
 a poacher, whom our old master Jakob used to be a servant 
 at the castle dismissed from his service. But he is always 
 coming back here from Brunswick, where he had work in 
 a saw-mill. Early last Sunday I caught him in the very act 
 of aiming at a fine doe. I shouted to him. He made a leap 
 over the rocks to get off; fell, his gun went off, and a bullet
 
 JOHANNA TO LVD WIG. 75 
 
 pierced his arm. What was I to do ? I had to get him up 
 here ; but if the master should hear of it the fellow would be 
 sent to jail, and I never could outlive the disgrace." 
 
 " The man's blunt manner pleased me. 
 
 " ' Grandpapa certainly shall not hear of it from me, for- 
 ester,' I said, and offered him my hand. He looked at me 
 in surprise, reddened, and took my hand, grasping it so tightly 
 that I could hardly help crying out. ' Thanks, Fraulein,' he 
 said, simply, and, as Johann Leopold now made his appear- 
 ance with his horse, we left the lodge. 
 
 " While the forester helped me mount my horse, Johann 
 Leopold addressed him again in an arrogant tone : ' Remember, 
 Kruger, that I positively forbid the man to be moved. Until 
 he is recovered he stays here as my patient. Everything that 
 he needs is to be charged to me.' 
 
 " The forester's wife broke out into protestations of grati- 
 tude, her husband muttered some unintelligible words, and we 
 rode off. 
 
 " When Johann Leopold learned my errand, he offered to 
 guide me by a road over the mountain to the clearing, and 
 we agreed to tell grandpapa that we had met, but to say 
 nothing further. Johann Leopold told me that ' Red Jakob* 
 had been his most cherished playmate when they were boys. 
 No one could approach him in the knowledge of the woods 
 and fields. He knew every plant, every stone, and every 
 animal of the country ; the habits of the game, the holes of 
 the foxes, and the nests of the birds. 
 
 " ' He was a born Nimrod,' he added, ' and would have 
 made a far better lord of Donninghausen than I shall ever be; 
 but in the sphere of life to which he belongs his tastes and 
 talents are a stumbling block to him.' 
 
 " I asked him whether he did not think that a place could 
 be found in the world for every kind of talent. He shook 
 his head. 'There may be a place,' he replied, 'but occu-
 
 76 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 pied by some one who does not feel himself authorized to 
 resign it. Take me for an example. No one knows better 
 than I how unfit I am to be the heir of Donninghausen. 
 My capabilities and my inclination lead me to the study, or to 
 the bedside of the sick. Nevertheless I cannot decide to resign 
 my position, and when an inferior opposes me, as the forester 
 did awhile ago, my hot blood, or my acquired arrogance 
 asserts the mastery, and I should like to put the fellow in 
 irons. And yet I am theoretically convinced of the equal 
 rights of mankind.' 
 
 " This conversation gave me food for reflection. I wonder 
 whether Johann Leopold acquiesces in a marriage with Mage- 
 lone, from an idea of the requirements of his rank, or whether, 
 tinder apparent indifference, he does not really feel an in- 
 terest in the enchanting siren. As I have been mistaken 
 with respect to his outward life, I may also be in appre- 
 ciation of his mind and heart. For example, during our ride 
 I learned that instead of leading the owlish existence which 
 Magelone ascribes to him, he is the physician of the poor for 
 miles around the country, providing them himself with all the 
 needed medicaments. My grandfather must know nothing 
 of this ; he would call it all quackery, and would consider it 
 an insult offered to worthy old Dr. Francke, who has been the 
 physician at Donninghausen for the last thirty years. 
 
 "As for myself, I get on very well with grandpapa. I was 
 rather uncertain as to how he would receive the intelligence 
 that I had sent off Martin and undertaken the forest ride 
 alone, but he was pleased and praised me. ' That's right, 
 child ; never delay where help is needed, is my maxim.' 
 Nevertheless, he is usually, as he says himself, apt to be cross. 
 To be tied to his room and to his arm-chair by gout at Christ- 
 mas-time, when all the family assemble here, is a hard trial 
 for an impatient temperament. Aunt Thekla says we must 
 look for stormy times."
 
 JOHANNA TO LUDWIO. 77 
 
 " December 23. 
 
 " I have not been able to write for the last few days, but 
 this letter must go to-day, that you may have it for a Christ- 
 mas-greeting. Day before yesterday the cousins arrived with 
 husbands and belongings, Hildegard, with two children ; 
 Hedwig, with three, beside nurses and lady's-maids. Both 
 mothers look like Aunt Thekla, tall, slender, fair, and rather 
 stately. They have rosy cheeks, abundant hair, and bright 
 light-blue eyes, are vain of their looks, of their husbands and 
 children, of their name and social position, and mutually en- 
 deavour to outshine each other in the splendour of their attire. 
 With Magelone they wage a very amusing petty warfare. 
 Their husbands, twin-brothers, are strikingly alike, fair and 
 stately like their wives, but better-natured, gayer, more at 
 their ease. Eduard, Hedwig's husband, distinguished him- 
 self in the Schleswig-Holstein war, whence come his stiffened 
 arm and several orders, a creve-coeur, as Magelone maintains, 
 for Hildegard, whose Karl has only won peaceful laurels as 
 an orator at agricultural meetings. To-morrow afternoon the 
 brothers of the sisters are coming. The festival takes place 
 in the evening. 
 
 " Grandpapa is unfortunately still obliged to be pushed from 
 one room to another in his wheeled chair. His great-grand- 
 children must be with him as much as possible, and when the 
 three boys, respectively six, five, and four years old, the 
 little girls are still in arms, are romping about the spacious 
 drawing-room, his face clears up. His grand-daughters do 
 not seem very near to him, and it must pain him at these 
 family gatherings that he has no children to link him with the 
 younger generation. 
 
 " I had one distressing moment with him yesterday. Be- 
 fore the second breakfast he sends off" the post-boy. Every 
 inmate of the household brings or sends the letters, which 
 grandpapa himself locks into the bag. I had a Christmas- 
 
 7*
 
 78 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 gift to send to Lisbeth, and took the package to his room 
 myself. How his eyes flashed at me as he read the address ! 
 
 " ' A Christmas-gift for my little sister,' 1 replied to their 
 mute inquiry. 
 
 " ' You have no sister, and no friendly correspondence with 
 those people shall be carried on from my house !' grandpapa 
 fairly roared. This was the voice of which Magelone had 
 told me. But I took courage, and said, in a trembling voice 
 indeed, and without looking up, ' Dear grandfather, I might 
 have sent my package secretly ' 
 
 " He stared at me, and his brow cleared. ' Do you love 
 the child ?' he asked. 
 
 " ' Yes, grandpapa !' I cried ; ( and if you could see the dear 
 little creature ' 
 
 " ' Enough, enough !' he interrupted me ; and, laying the 
 package aside, he added, ' It shall go, Johanna, and you have 
 done well.' 
 
 " Since then he has been kinder than ever to me, perhaps 
 on account of my cousins, who tried to treat me coldly. The 
 old man has so emphatic a way of saying ' My grand-daughter 
 Johanna,' that they changed their tactics, and are now almost 
 amiable to me. Nevertheless, I like Donninghausen better 
 without them, and am looking forward with pleasure to our 
 quiet days when they shall have departed."
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 CHRISTMAS AT DONNINGHAUSEN. 
 
 CHRISTMAS- EVE had arrived. As was the custom, the 
 festival for old and young at Db'nninghausen took place in the 
 late afternoon, before the principal meal of the day, and even 
 with Johanna's help Aunt Thekla had much ado to be ready 
 with the arrangement of the presents at the appointed time. 
 The gifts for the members of the family were laid out on long 
 tables to the right and left of the brilliantly-decorated fir-tree 
 in the centre of the ball-room, while smaller Christmas-trees 
 sparkled and shone upon tables ranged against the wall, where 
 were the presents for the servants and the castle pensioners. 
 When the bells of the village rang in the Holy Christmas- 
 tide, Aunt Thekla's silver bell was also rung, the doors into 
 the corridors were opened, and as the flood of light streamed 
 out upon the expectant group outside, there arose, sung by 
 old and young, the strains of the Freiherr's favorite hymn, 
 
 "He comes, He comes, the Holy One, 
 Filled with His might divine." 
 
 Involuntarily, Johanna, standing beside Aunt Thekla be- 
 neath the Christmas-tree, folded her hands : memories of 
 vanished years crowded upon her heart ; but, as she turned 
 aside to wipe away her starting tears, her look encountered 
 her cousin Otto's eyes fixed upon her. He had arrived in the 
 course of the afternoon. She had not seen him before, and 
 he now nodded to her by way of greeting. She courtesied 
 
 79
 
 80 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 and was aware of the same mingled sensation of timidity and 
 confidence that had possessed her at their first interview. 
 
 Beside Otto stood Magelone, more elfin-like than ever, in a 
 long, closely-fitting pale-green silk, with her sweet smile and 
 strangely-gleaming eyes. 
 
 " Is it Otto's presence that makes her thus brilliantly beau- 
 tiful ? It is strange that grandpapa has never destined these 
 two for each other," thought Johanna. 
 
 The hymn was ended, the Freiherr was wheeled into the 
 room, the rest crowded in after him, and soon the delight of 
 the children made itself heard, and the poor stammered their 
 grateful acknowledgments, while Hildegard and Hedwig cast 
 inquisitive, unfriendly glances away from their own rich 
 gifts towards a morocco case which the Freiherr handed to 
 Johanna. 
 
 " Open it, child !" he said. She obeyed. A rococo parure 
 of rubies and diamonds lay gleaming upon the yellowish-white 
 satin inside the case. 
 
 " Your grandmother's bridal jewels, your mother's inherit- 
 ance," said the Freiherr. 
 
 The sisters exchanged looks of indignation. Johanna 
 kissed her grandfather's hand. 
 
 " I thank you ; the double memory makes it very precious," 
 ehe said, and closed the case. As she did so, Otto approached 
 her. 
 
 " At last, Fraulein Johanna," he said, and held out his 
 hand. " How glad I am to see you again !" 
 
 " Fraulein 1" cried the Freiherr. " Boy, what do you mean ? 
 You should call the daughter of your father's sister ' Jo- 
 hanna.' " 
 
 " Most gladly if I may. Will you allow it, dear Johanna?" 
 said Otto, bestowing upon her a cousinly kiss. Blushing, she 
 released herself from him, as he looked into her eyes with a 
 glance of momentary triumph. " To our friendship," he said,
 
 CHRISTMAS AT D()NNINGHAUSEN. 81 
 
 gravely, and then the children came rushing up and separated 
 them. 
 
 A telegram was handed to the Freiherr ; he read it with a 
 lowering brow. 
 
 " How unfortunate !" he cried. " Waldemar tells me that 
 important business will not allow of his being with us before 
 New Year's day. This Christmas it vexes me particularly." 
 
 " I am delighted," Magelone whispered to Johanna. " It 
 is a respite, at least for me. The betrothal of the future head 
 of the family cannot possibly be announced unless all its august 
 members are present." 
 
 Johanna looked at her and shook her head. "That be- 
 trothal will never take place," she said ; " Otto will not allow 
 it." 
 
 " Otto ! What do you mean ?" asked Magelone. " You have 
 hardly seen us together." 
 
 " Long enough to see how he adores you." 
 
 " Mere gallantry, child ; nothing more," said Magelone. 
 " Remember, pray, he has debts, I have nothing, and we are 
 sensible people." 
 
 And she fluttered away to her presents, where the next in- 
 stant Otto joined her. " May I take you in to dinner ?" he 
 asked. 
 
 " That is at present Johann Leopold's privilege, or task. 
 As which do you think he regards it ?" 
 
 " Can you ask ?" said Otto. " He is pursuing you witli the 
 glare of a veritable Othello !" 
 
 " How romantic ! I see only his usually melancholy sheep's- 
 eyes," said Magelone. " He stares at me, but it is a question 
 whether he sees me. Others, on the contrary, see tox much ; 
 discover that we, that is, you and I, are flirting with each 
 other." 
 
 " Flirting !" he interrupted her. " How can my serioua 
 devotion "
 
 82 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 " Oh, hush !" she cried. " You know grandpapa's plans 
 Johann Leopold's future betrothed must listen to nothing of 
 that kind. You ought to court Johanna." 
 
 " It pleases my sovereign to jest," said Otto, bending over 
 her with a smile. 
 
 " Not at all," she rejoined. " I am rather laying my com- 
 mands upon my slave to turn his talent to account." 
 
 He bowed again. " The command shall be obeyed," he 
 said. " Moreover, obedience will not be difficult. Cousin 
 Johanna has improved wonderfully in appearance." 
 
 Magelone glanced hastily towards Johanna. " You are right : 
 she has gained life and colour;" and she added, mentally, " Is 
 he trying to make me jealous ? He shall not succeed." 
 
 In spite of this resolution, she could not away with a slightly 
 disagreeable sensation when, sitting beside Johann Leopold 
 at table, she noticed the assiduity with which Otto, who was 
 Johanna's neighbour, obeyed her command, and how Johanna's 
 eyes sparkled as she talked with her cousin. If Magelone 
 could only have revenged herself upon him ! But words, 
 looks, and smiles were lavished in vain upon Johann Leopold, 
 who was as monosyllabic as ever. 
 
 After dinner, in the drawing-room, Otto came to Magelone 
 just as she was going to join Aunt Thekla and her cousins 
 around the fire. " Not there," he entreated ; " come to the 
 piano ; it is so long since I heard you play." 
 
 " Lost pains," was her laughing reply, as she followed him 
 to the other end of the room. " You never will convince me 
 that you care for music. Did you ever really know what I 
 was playing ?" 
 
 " And if I did not, it was your fault. How can I think of 
 aught else but your beauty, which has so bewitched me, you 
 enchanting siren ?" 
 
 " Ah, you're wrong. Sirens enchant chiefly by their song," 
 she rejoined in a teasing tone, as she sat down at the piano
 
 CHRISTMAS AT D()NNINGHAUSEN. 83 
 
 and struck a few chords. " Well, Sir Enthusiast for music, 
 what will you have ?" 
 
 " Play anything ; never mind what." 
 
 " Last autumn you laad a passion for Chopin, have you 
 forgotten ? Do you no longer recognize your favourite ?" 
 
 She began to play. Otto sat beside her and turned over 
 the leaves of her music when she signed to him to do so. As 
 often as he leaned forward she felt, with a thrill, his breath 
 upon her neck, and sometimes he whispered, so low as to be 
 almost inaudible, a word or two in jest in which there seemed 
 a tone of suppressed passion. 
 
 " Does he conduct himself thus towards Johanna ?" she 
 asked herself. " Impossible !" her vanity made reply, and the 
 Lerceuse which she was playing assumed the character of a 
 triumphal march. 
 
 The moods of the group around the fire were less harmo- 
 nious. The Freiherr had retired immediately after dinner ; 
 the brothers Wildenhayn and Johann Leopold, engaged in a 
 political discussion, had withdrawn to such a distance that 
 they could not overhear the ladies' conversation, and Hildegard 
 Boothed her injured feelings by animadverting upon Johanna's 
 position in the family. 
 
 It was certainly a matter of course that grandpapa should 
 take charge of the destitute orphan, since in a certain sense 
 she was one of the family ; but was there any need to treat 
 her as an equal ? It was not only an insult to the other n em- 
 bers of the family, it was an injury to Johanna herself. It 
 would end in her forgetting her true position ; she would learn 
 to form expectations which could not be fulfilled hereafter, 
 and she would lose by her arrogance the regard of the rela- 
 tives upon whom, after grandpapa's death, she must needs be 
 dependent. 
 
 " I do not think you are right there," Aunt Thekla at last 
 *nterposed, ha/ing long tried in vain to oppose her gentle
 
 84 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 remonstrances to the torrent of Hildegard's speech. " My 
 brother is sure to provide for Johanna." 
 
 " I think so too," cried Hedwig ; " and I wonder, Ililde- 
 gard, that you do not see it yourself. After grandpapa's 
 giving her that valuable parure " 
 
 " Yes, that parure /" Hildegard interposed. " With all 
 your prejudice in the girl's favour, you must admit, dear aunt, 
 that grandmamma's bridal parure does not belong of right to 
 her. She can do nothing with it ; she never can wear it. 
 She does not belong in society ; even grandpapa could hardly 
 succeed in introducing an actor's daughter." 
 
 Hildegard spoke these last words in a voice intentionally 
 raised ; for Johanna, who had been preparing the coffee as 
 usual at the table before the sofa, was just passing with the 
 first cup for Aunt Thekla. The trembling of her hand be- 
 trayed that she had heard the malicious remark, and Hilde- 
 gard looked after her exultantly as she returned to tke 
 coffee-table. 
 
 But Johann Leopold had also heard and seen, and he came 
 to Johanna's assistance. 
 
 " Dear Magelone," he said, going to the piano, the ber- 
 ceuse was just ended, and Otto was expressing his admiration 
 for the music and for the performer, " dear Magelone, will 
 you preside at the coffee-table to-day ? Johanna has exhausted 
 herself with Christmas-eve preparations; she looks terribly 
 pale and weary." 
 
 Magelone was ready on the instant to comply. " Johann 
 Leopold jealous, charming!" she said to herself; adding 
 aloud, " Indeed, Johanna dear, you do look wretched. Sit 
 there in the corner of the sofa, and I will pour out coffee for 
 you." 
 
 " I would rather go to bed," Johanna replied. And, bidding 
 good-night to Magelone and to Johann Leopold, whose kind- 
 ness she had perfectly understood, she slipped out of the room,
 
 CHRISTMAS AT D$NNINGHAUSEN. 85 
 
 unperceived, she thought, by its other inmates. But in the 
 corridor Otto joined her. " Dear Johanna," he said, " here is 
 a little Christmas-token that had no place in the joyous con- 
 fusion of the evening. Do not look at it until you are in. 
 your own room ; but, before you go, tell me how you really 
 are." And he gazed into her eyes with the expression that 
 always confused her. 
 
 " It is nothing ; I shall be quite well to-morrow," she stam- 
 mered, mechanically, taking the little packet he handed her, 
 and then hastening up-stairs to her apartment, while he 
 returned to the drawing-room. 
 
 Why should her heart beat so fast ? Her trembling hands 
 could scarcely steady themselves sufficiently to light her can- 
 dle ; but when they had done so, and she had unwrapped 
 Otto's Christmas-gift, she said to herself that it was the sus- 
 picion of what it was that had so moved her. Otto had given 
 her a small miniature of her father, taken from a well-known 
 life-size bust. She gazed at it lost in thought. What would 
 she not have given to be able to pour out her gratitude to 
 Otto on the instant, to speak with him of the departed one 
 whom he had known and revered ! Otto had been the first 
 at the close of her old life to bid her welcome on the thresh- 
 old of the new existencs, and he was the only one in all this 
 new existence who appreciated her love and veneration for 
 her father. 
 
 When she met him the next morning at breakfast, he learned 
 from her eyes and voice even more than from her words how 
 great had been the pleasure his little gift had given her. 
 
 "I knew you would like it," he said, simply, as he con- 
 ducted her to the breakfast-table ; and, although no further 
 allusion could be made then to the picture, their intercourse 
 seemed more cordial than ever before. 
 
 Hildegard contemplated the pair with an unfriendly mien. 
 They did not appear to notice it, and therefore the careful 
 
 8
 
 86 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 sister judged it best at last to signify to Otto that be wag 
 bestowing his attentions upon a most unsuitable object. The 
 Freiherr's question as to whether the clear winter's day might 
 not be made available for a sleigh-ride afforded her an oppor- 
 tunity to carry out her intention. 
 
 " Yes, dear grandpapa, a sleigh-ride would be glorious," she 
 said ; " I would merely propose that we should also pay a 
 visit. Do you not think," she went on, looking around the 
 circle at the table, " that it would be well to call at Klausen- 
 burg ? When church is over the sleighs can take us there, 
 and we can be back in time for the second breakfast." 
 
 " Will there be room for all of us ?" asked Hedwig. 
 
 " Certainly," Hildegard replied. " Magelone and Johann 
 Leopold can go in the small sleigh, and Eduard can drive, and 
 the large sleigh will easily hold Aunt Thekla, us two, and Otto, 
 with Karl to drive us." 
 
 " I will resign my place to Johanna," said Aunt Thekla. 
 
 Johanna was about to declare that she would rather stay at 
 home, but Hildegard gave her no time. " Johanna at Klau- 
 senburg?" she exclaimed. " That will never do. I, at least, 
 have not the courage to take her there." 
 
 " Make your mind easy ; that is my affair," the Freiherr 
 interposed, and his eyes flashed at the speaker. " On New 
 Year's day we give our customary dinner, at which I shall 
 present my grand-daughter to the neighbourhood, and I promise 
 you that she will meet with the reception I desire her to have. 
 Christian, take me to my room." 
 
 The servant wheeled the old man away, and every one rose 
 from table. Johann Leopold began to converse with Johanna 
 upon indifferent subjects, and involuntarily she became inter- 
 ested. Hedwig whispered to her discomfited sister, " Rather 
 awkward of you, my dear." Otto asked his brother-in-law, 
 Karl, how he could allow Hildegard to display such want of 
 tact, and was answered by a shrug of the shoulders, whilst
 
 CHRISTMAS AT DdNNINGHAVSEN, 87 
 
 Aunt Thekla tried to dispel every one's embarrassment by 
 reminding them that it was time to make ready for church. 
 
 "Come, let us go together!" said Magolone, putting her 
 arm through Johanna's and leaving the room with her. 
 " Let me entreat you not to look so grieved," she went on. 
 " Don't let that stupid woman vex you ; you know how th*> 
 others love you." 
 
 Johanna pressed Magelone's arm, and went up-stairs with 
 her in silence. At the door of her room she said, " You 
 must go to church without me to-day ; I cannot feel devo- 
 tional after what has happened." 
 
 " Oh, Johanna, we ought not to bear malice ! Be kind, and 
 come," Magelone entreated ; but with a decided " I cannot !" 
 Johanna left her and shut herself up in her own room. She 
 could not say to Magelone that she was far less annoyed by 
 Hildegard's hostility than by the prospect of being thrust into 
 a society where she was not welcome. 
 
 " If I could but get away !" she thought, as she looked 
 from the window out over the wintry landscape. " Yes, 
 away, away, if but for an hour !" she said, aloud. And putting 
 on her wraps, and accompanied by Leo, barking joyously, she 
 hurried out into the park, and thence to the path that led up 
 the mountain from the village into the forest. 
 
 Her heart grew lighter in the fresh winter air. She 
 walked on quickly, upwards beneath the snow-laden boughs, 
 upon which the sunlight played in thousands of prisms, and 
 from which the glittering dust came powdering down upon 
 her. At length the sight of the forester's lodge, its windows 
 sparkling in the sunshine, warned her to return. 
 
 Since she had come thus far, she would inquire after Jo- 
 hann Leopold's protege. Greeted and accompanied by the 
 barking dogs, she was going towards the door, when close by 
 the house a girl, very poorly clad, with a shawl about her head 
 and shoulders, came out of the thicket. The slender figure
 
 88 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 stooped low as it passed the windows, softly lifted the latch 
 of the house-door, and went in. 
 
 Johanna followed her. She turned to the door of the 
 room opposite the sitting-room, and laid a little, blue, half- 
 frozen hand upon the latch. " Jakob !" she whispered, as she 
 tried to open it gently. But on the instant the door of the 
 sitting-room opened, and the forester's wife in a black gown 
 and a cap with white ribbons made her appearance, the hymn- 
 book in which she had been reading in her hand. 
 
 " Christine !" she exclaimed, angrily, in an undertone, and 
 without noticing Johanna she rushed at the girl. " Chris- 
 tine, how dare you ? Go away this moment !" And she tried 
 to push the girl away from the door, but her hand held fast 
 the latch. " For God's sake," a poor little pleading voice 
 cried, " let me only say one word to Jakob 1" 
 
 " Not one," Frau Kruger interposed. " Go this instant, 1 
 tell you !" And she raised the book as if to strike the girl. 
 
 " Frau Kruger !" Johanna exclaimed, approaching the pair. 
 They turned. The girl's shawl had fallen back from her head, 
 and a pale youthful face, the large dark eyes swollen with 
 weeping, met Johanna's look, while the violence of the for- 
 ester's wife was instantly replaced by extreme courtesy. 
 
 " Oh, Friiulein 1" she said, with a curtsey, " do not take it 
 amiss. I never like to harm a living creature, but Christine 
 is a shameless girl, who will persist in worrying Jakob." 
 
 " I worry him ?" the girl said, quickly. " Why, since his 
 accident I have never even been allowed to see him. Have 
 pity ; let me bid him good-by. I am going to Oberroda to- 
 day, but I cannot go so." And she burst into tears. 
 
 " Frau Kruger, be persuaded," Johanna entreated. " The 
 poor girl " 
 
 " Oh, Fraulein, do not waste your compassion," the for- 
 ester's wife interrupted her, with an angry glance at the girl. 
 " Christine has always been a bad, wilful creature. She has
 
 CHRISTMAS AT D6NNINGHAVSEN. 89 
 
 had a child, and wants to force Jakob to marry her, but ho 
 will have nothing to do with her." 
 
 " Jakob have nothing to do with me ? That is not true," 
 cried the girl. " He will not forsake me, and I will not for- 
 sake him. And he loved the little child dearly, and now he 
 does not even know that it is dead. I must tell him." She 
 hid her face and sobbed aloud. 
 
 " How can you be so hard-hearted ?" said Johanna. " You 
 must let the girl speak with the sick man." 
 
 " That she may make him worse with her whining," said 
 Frau Kruger. " If she loves him as much as she says she 
 does, she might spare him her blubbering. And what of it ? 
 It is lucky that the Lord took the brat from her." 
 
 " Frau Kruger !" Johanna exclaimed, indignantly ; and 
 Christine, who had grown deadly pale, drew the shawl over 
 her head and silently left the house. 
 
 " Oh, Fraulein, if you but knew ! Have the kindness to 
 come in here and let me tell you," the forester's wife begged, 
 all smiles and servility again ; but Johanna left her and fol- 
 lowed Christine. 
 
 The girl ran down the forest-path like a hunted creature. 
 Suddenly her strength seemed to fail her, and she leaned 
 against a tree. 
 
 Johanna hurried to her. " Where is your home ? I 
 will take you there," she said kindly. 
 
 " Home ? I have none !" the girl replied, with a wild 
 look. " My brother has turned me out of doors, and they 
 will not let me go to Jakob. His sister says I am too bad 
 for Jakob ; my brother says Jakob is too bad for me. Ah, 
 good heavens ! if we are both such wretches, we are well 
 suited to each other." 
 
 The depth of bitterness in her words contrasted so oddly 
 with her gentle childlike face that Johanna's sympathy was 
 still more strongly enlisted. She put her arm round her to 
 
 8*
 
 90 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 support the slender, trembling figure, and walked with her 
 slowly down the mountain. After a while Christine said, 
 " You are so kind, Friiulein. Herr Forester Kruger told me 
 about you. He is far kinder to me than his wife." 
 
 "What is Frau Kruger's grudge against you?" asked Jo- 
 hanna. 
 
 " At first it could only have been that I am poor and low- 
 born," the girl replied. " My father was only a cowherd, it 
 is true, and Jakob is a farmer's son. But for all that, he 
 wanted to marry me, and if the others had consented all 
 would have been different with me now." 
 
 " Who are the others ?" Johanna asked again. 
 
 " The forester's wife opposed it most. She worked upon 
 my guardian and my brother, and they forbade me to go with 
 Jakob. So we had to see each other in secret, for he would 
 not give me up, nor would I him. And then that happened 
 that ought not to have been. 7 ' 
 
 She was silent. For a while they walked along without 
 speaking, and then Christine said, timidly, " Please, kind 
 Fraulein, do not think hardly of us. Ah, how hard Jakob 
 tried to have us married ! and when the child came he loved 
 it so dearly, so dearly ! And now it has been lying under 
 the snow for a week, and Jakob is up there with his cruel 
 sister, and I must go away. I have taken service at Ober- 
 roda, and oh, it is too, too hard to go without seeing Jakob, 
 or letting him know anything about me and my trouble !" 
 
 Johanna spoke soothingly to her, promised to give her 
 news of Jakob, she depended upon Johann Leopold's help, 
 and when they reached the cross-road leading to the village, 
 the girl took leave of her with a lighter heart and grateful 
 words. Johanna looked thoughtfully after her. The sound 
 of the Christmas bells struck clearly upon her ear in the crisp, 
 frosty air. Where was the " Peace on earth" that it should 
 have heralded to mankind ?
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 NEW YEAR'S EVE. 
 
 THE sleighing-party did not return to the second breakfast. 
 The dinner-hour first assembled the various members of the 
 family. 
 
 " Was grandpapa angry ?" Magelone whispered to Johanna. 
 Just then the Freiherr was wheeled into the room, and his 
 frowning brow answered her question only too clearly. 
 
 Hildegard was not to be intimidated. 
 
 " Do not be angry, dear grandpapa," she said, with an air 
 of arrogant ease quite her own. " It was my fault that we 
 stayed so long ; I had not seen the Klausenburgs for an age, 
 and they begged us so to stay that it was impossible to say 
 no." 
 
 " But you found it quite possible to keep us waiting here," 
 the Freiherr rejoined. " Another time please to remember 
 that such want of consideration has never been the rule of 
 my household, and never shall be. Be seated 1" 
 
 " I told you so," Karl Wildenhayn whispered to his wife 
 as she passed him. 
 
 " You are all cowards 1" she rejoined, and then seated her- 
 self with head erect and knitted brows on the left of the 
 Freiherr, for whom she seemed no longer to have any ex- 
 istence. 
 
 The meal was very monosyllabic. Now and then Otto 
 would whisper something to Johanna, and she would listen 
 with a smile. Then Johann Leopold, who looked paler and 
 more weary than usual, would look up from his plate, gaze at 
 
 91
 
 92 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 her, and then sink again into his usual apathy, from which 
 Magelone to-day did not try to rouse him. 
 
 When they went to the drawing-room she left Johann 
 Leopold, and, approaching Otto, said, " Pray suggest some 
 folly to me, I am dying of ennui." 
 
 " ' Ah ! fly with me, and he my love,' " 
 
 he began to sing in an undertone, and his eyes expressed the 
 passion which was suppressed in his half-teasing voice. Mage- 
 lone shrugged her shoulders. 
 
 " Nonsense ! even the poet himself called that tragedy," 
 she replied. " I want something merry to do. But you are 
 afflicted with the Donninghausen stupidity." 
 
 " How unjust 1" cried Otto. " Was it not a merry thing 
 to whisk you away from Klausenburg right from under 
 Johann Leopold's long nose into the sleigh with me, and 
 drive off with you ?" 
 
 Magelone laughed. Otto continued passionately : " I should 
 have liked to carry you off to the end of the world. The 
 thought of seeing you in Johann Leopold's arms makes me 
 frantic. Why do you look at me so disdainfully, and what 
 does that smile mean?" 
 
 " Perhaps it means what did you whisper to Johanna at 
 table with just the same look you wear at present?" 
 
 " I thought I was to obey orders and pay court to her," 
 Baid Otto. " Do you command the contrary ?" 
 
 " Indeed I do not." 
 
 " It really would be better to continue the farce," Otto 
 went on in a graver tone. " Johann Leopold's jealousy is 
 evident ; it would be better to lead him upon a false scent " 
 
 " And beguile two female hearts at the same time," Mage- 
 lone interposed, laughing. " Oh, Don Juan, Don Juan !'' 
 
 " Play the ' Don Giovanni' overture," Otto begged her. 
 " You play it magnificently."
 
 NEW FEAR'S EVE. 93 
 
 " Not to-day. There must be nothing but chorales to- 
 day," she said. And with a coquettish glance she turned 
 away towards the fire, where were her cousins and Aunt 
 Thekla. 
 
 During this conversation Johann Leopold had approached 
 Johanna at her coffee-table. 
 
 " How do you like your new cousin ?" he asked ; " but I 
 need hardly ask, for you seem to have become excellent 
 friends with him since last evening." 
 
 " Not quite since last evening," Johanna replied, blushing 
 slightly. " He came to see me just after my father's death, 
 and was so kind " 
 
 " I can easily imagine it," Johann Leopold interrupted her. 
 " He knows how to strike the right chord everywhere, modern 
 Piper of Hamelin that he is. Have a care of him." 
 
 She looked up at him inquiringly, but the telltale blush 
 would return ; involuntarily she turned away to conceal it, 
 and suddenly, she did not know why, she remembered the 
 lovers whom she had promised to befriend. " I have a 
 favour to ask of you," she said, gravely. " It concerns Red 
 Jakob." 
 
 " What is it ?" he asked, taking a chair by her side ; and, 
 encouraged by his sympathy, she told him of the scene in the 
 forest lodge and of poor Christine's sorrows. Johann Leopold 
 readily promised his help to the girl, and together they dis- 
 cussed what should be done. 
 
 " Let me beg you, Magelone, to look towards the coffee- 
 table," said Hildegard, after she had watched the pair for a 
 while. " They have been engaged in that interesting conver- 
 sation for a quarter of an hour. Are you not jealous ?" 
 
 Magelone laughed. " Jealous of Johanna ? Oh, no," she 
 declared, confidently. 
 
 " Don't be so sure, my dear child," was Hildegard's sneer- 
 ing reply. " In spite of your irresistible charms, you have
 
 94 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 never succeeded since I have been here in making Johann 
 Leopold talk as he is now talking to Johanna." 
 
 " Yes, he actually seems transformed," said Hedwig. " He 
 certainly is talking and listening now, while beside you he 
 sits like a wooden doll." 
 
 " Of course, ' 'tis love, 'tis love that makes men mute,' " 
 Magelone said, with a smile ; but her eyes gleamed, and a sen- 
 eation of mistrust of Johanna stirred in her heart, faint and 
 fleeting, it is true, but it was the beginning, nevertheless, 
 of a change in the relations between the cousins. 
 
 The next morning Johann Leopold rode to the forest lodge. 
 When he returned, meeting Johanna in the corridor, he told 
 her that the rough fellow had wept bitterly when told of 
 the death of his child, and had entreated that he might see 
 Christine. 
 
 " It would be best for you to go up to the lodge with her 
 to-morrow morning early," he added ; " it would lighten the 
 weary way for her, and I will be there to take her to the 
 invalid." 
 
 " I will certainly have her there," Johanna replied, " punc- 
 tually at eleven o'clock. Oh, Johann Leopold, how kind you 
 are !" 
 
 They had just reached the drawing-room door. Mage- 
 lone, gliding noiselessly down-stairs, heard Johanna's last 
 words. 
 
 " What has he been doing that is so kind ?" she asked. 
 " Tell me, that I may admire it too." 
 
 Johanna wae embarrassed. Her cousin came to her assist- 
 ance. " Never mind, my dear Magelone," he said, in his usual 
 cold, deliberate tone. " You would consider it the mere dilet- 
 tantism of philanthropy, upon which you but lately expended 
 your ridicule." 
 
 As he spoke he opened the drawing-room door. Magelone 
 passed him with an angry blush. How silly to take her words
 
 NEW YEAR'S EVE. 95 
 
 so seriously ! Of course Johanna never said such things. 
 The girl was growing positively disagreeable. 
 
 According to agreement, Johanna presented herself with 
 her protegee at the forester's the next morning. Christine 
 could not yet believe that she should see Red Jakob. " Hia 
 sister will certainly prevent it," she kept saying. 
 
 But Johann Leopold's authority had successfully opposed 
 the forester's wife. As soon as she saw Johanna and Chris- 
 tine approaching she sullenly withdrew, and contented herself 
 with watching them through the chink of the door. 
 
 She did not see much. Johann Leopold went to meet the 
 visitors. " Come, my child, Jakob is expecting you," he said, 
 with a gentle kindness that aggravated Frau Kruger's ill 
 humour. He had never spoken so to either her husband or 
 herself. " Do not be afraid," he went on ; " no one shall 
 molest you. If any should try to do so, let me know." And 
 he opened the door of the sick-room. 
 
 " Christine, have you come at last ?" Jakob's voice called 
 from the bed. With a cry the girl rushed to him, and 
 Johann Leopold closed the door upon them. " Come, Jo- 
 hanna, we have nothing further to do here," he said, and to- 
 gether they left the house. 
 
 When the forester's wife looked from the window, they were 
 walking down the forest-path. She smiled scornfully. " No 
 one could persuade me," she thought, " that those two came 
 up here for the sake of Jakob and Christine ; but I'll see to 
 it, they may depend upon it. If I could only hear what they 
 are talking about ! She looks up at him as if he were the 
 * H err Pastor in the pulpit." 
 
 Their talk was strange enough, it was rather a monologue 
 of Johann Leopold's to which Johanna listened. 
 
 " Happy unfortunates !" he began, looking sadly abroad into 
 space. " Even yesterday, when Jakob was weeping for his boy 
 and crying out after Christine, I envied him. How such eino-
 
 96 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 tion must enlarge and strengthen the soul ! Happiness or 
 misery is of no moment, but an absorbing passion, that pos- 
 sesses and rules the entire man Yet who experiences 
 
 such ? Only some half-savage like my poor Jakob. We 
 superior beings, as we are called, with our boasted culture, 
 pay for our position with doubt, hesitation, half-heartedness." 
 
 Johanna listened to him with pained surprise. How could 
 he thus forget or ignore his own past, his love for his dead be- 
 trothed, which Aunt Thekla maintained he still cherished in 
 his heart ? She could not venture to remind him of it, how- 
 ever, and she said, after a pause, " I think you are mistaken ; 
 love is not influenced by rank or culture. Remember my 
 mother." 
 
 He did not seem to hear her, but went on : " And naturally 
 we are drawn on from year to year by half-desires, half- 
 resolves ; our goal seems to us not worthy of exertion to 
 attain it. And if some caprice places what we desire within 
 our reach, we scarcely know whether to grasp it and hold it 
 last, for to grasp it gives trouble, and to hold it fast calls for 
 exertion." 
 
 Was he speaking with reference to himself? Was Mage- 
 lone what he desired ? Johanna would have liked to help him 
 to unburden his mind, but any mention of Magelone seemed 
 to her to be indiscreet, so she merely remarked, " I cannot 
 imagine any one's being too indolent to grasp an offered hap- 
 piness." 
 
 " Happiness !" he repeated, with a melancholy smile. " Hap- 
 piness ! Who believes in it ? You do not know how much 
 strength is required for belief; much more than for passionate 
 desire. Therefore the man who rushes blindly, head first, into 
 the maddest, unworthiest passion, regardless of the harm that 
 may result from it, seems to me not only more enviable, but more 
 estimable even, than the prudent doubter, who is cold to-day 
 and warm to-morrow, unable either to grasp or to relinquish.
 
 NEW YEAR'S EVE. 97 
 
 There stands the lovely being before you ; your heart throbs 
 at the sight of her ; you long to call her your own, to belong 
 to her, to lose yourself in her. But in the midst of your in- 
 toxication you know that she is but sounding brass and a 
 tinkling cymbal, that she does not understand you, or wish 
 to understand you, and that if your longing were fulfilled 
 your desire would become satiety and disgust. You tell your- 
 self that you never would be able to excuse to yourself the 
 illusion of the past, and there are moments in which you even 
 despise your desire." 
 
 He drew a long breath, paused, and stroked back the hair 
 from his pale forehead. " Do I startle you ?'' he then said, in 
 a quiet tone. " Forgive me, and forget what I have said. 
 When you have known me longer you will understand that I 
 am apt to be lost in illusions, and that I readily take phan- 
 toms for creatures of flesh and blood." 
 
 The Freiherr was able to leave his wheeled chair on this 
 same day ; he declared that nothing any longer stood in the 
 way of the contemplated New Year's dinner, and preparations 
 were begun for it. Johanna and Otto wrote the invitations ; 
 Aunt Thekla passed cellar and pantries in review, and had 
 conferences with the housekeeper ; old Christian polished up 
 the ' ancestral plate,' as Hildegard reverently called it, and 
 from spacious cupboards were produced treasures of antique 
 glass and porcelain. Magelone was more whimsical than usual, 
 beginning one thing after another only to lay it aside, and ridi- 
 culing the ' ceremonial state' in progress, but with a forced 
 gayety that troubled Johanna. Hildegard strutted like a 
 peacock in hopes of outshining in a new velvet gown all the 
 ladies of the surrounding county, while Hedwig ascribed still 
 more dazzling properties to her old Venetian lace. The Frei- 
 hcrr anticipated the New Year's dinner with the satisfaction 
 with which an architect contemplates the laying of the corner- 
 stone of a structure that has been long planned. Even the 
 K g 9
 
 98 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 Herr Pastor was busy with the dinner. He was composing a 
 toast to be given at it in honour of the betrothal. 
 
 What Johann Leopold's sensations were upon this occasion 
 it would be difficult to say. By no hint did he betray his 
 knowledge of the significance of the festival. His conduct 
 towards Magelone was as cool and deliberate as ever. As long 
 as the Freiherr remained amid the family circle, Johann Leo- 
 pold was there also. So soon as the old gentleman withdrew, 
 he also vanished. Johanna, in whom the impression of his 
 talk in the forest was still vivid, watched him narrowly, but 
 she looked in vain for any echo of that hour, and began to be- 
 lieve that not only Johann Leopold but also she herself had 
 seen phantoms. 
 
 Thus the day before the first of the new year arrived. 
 The clear Christmas weather had given place to thick gray 
 clouds that, lashed by the winds, sailed above the mountains. 
 The Freiherr, too, whose mood had been more cheerful since 
 the gout had left him, looked as gloomy within- doors as did 
 the skies without. " I do not know what to think of Walde- 
 mar," he said, as he paced the room to and fro, smoking his 
 morning pipe. " It is a little too much to have no word from 
 him since the telegram on Christmas-eve." 
 
 " Since that announced his arrival here to-day, he probably 
 thought nothing further necessary," said Aunt Thekla. 
 
 " Indeed ! And do you agree with him ?" the Freiherr said, 
 turning upon her. " Then see what this new-fangled want of 
 consideration comes to. What is to be done about sending for 
 him ? I cannot have the carriage go to every train." 
 
 " Waldemar always comes by the express-train, which is due 
 at five o'clock in Thalrode," said Hildegard, who sat opposite 
 Aunt Thekla engaged on some embroidery. 
 
 " Nonsense ! He comes sometimes at noon, and sometimes 
 at eight in the evening," the Freiherr rejoined. " But that's 
 of no consequence. Let him come when he chooses, he must
 
 NEW FEAR'S EVE. 99 
 
 Bend word when he will be here, and if he does not he will 
 not be sent for. Basta !" 
 
 His tone was such as to admit of no reply. All were silent, 
 while the old Herr continued to pace to and fro, puffing out 
 thick clouds of smoke. Magelone alone ventured, when he 
 was at the other end of the room, to whisper to Aunt Thekla, 
 " A great fuss about nothing ! You will see we shall have a 
 letter or a telegram from Waldemar saying he cannot come. I 
 wouldn't come either, if I could amuse myself in Vienna as he 
 can." 
 
 But the hours passed, and neither letter nor telegram made 
 its appearance. The early twilight came on, made still more 
 dim by the snow-storm which had begun at noon, and which 
 was increasing in violence. The wind howled and shrieked 
 around the castle. 
 
 A bright fire was burning in the drawing-room, where stood 
 the Christmas-tree, which was, according to custom, to be re- 
 lighted, then thoroughly stripped, chopped up, and burned on 
 New Year's eve. Magelone and Johanna were busy replacing 
 upon it candles which had burned down. Aunt Thekla and 
 Hildegard sat beside the fire ; Hedwig stood at the window, 
 looking out into the driving snow. " If our husbands were 
 only back again !" she said. " Inconceivable to wish to ride 
 out in such a storm." 
 
 " It looks worse than it is," said Johanna. " I came back 
 only half an hour ago from the village ; it was glorious to 
 breast the wind." 
 
 "A strange predilection ' Hildegard exclaimed. "But 
 you did not go alone?" 
 
 Before Johanna could reply, the door was noisily opened, 
 and the Freiherr entered. It was so unusual for him to join 
 the family at this hour that Aunt Thekla, startled, arose and 
 went towards him. 
 
 " Do not disturb yourself!" he said, beginning to pace the
 
 100 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 room to and fro. " Detestable weather !" he exclaimed, as a 
 blast of wind shook the windows. " I ought to have sent the 
 carriage. There's no knowing whether or not Waldeinar can 
 get a conveyance in Thalrode now ; it is too late." 
 
 " The carriage is at Thalrode, grandpapa," said Johanna. 
 " Johann Leopold drove over." 
 
 " Without my knowledge?" cried the Freiherr, standing still 
 in the middle of the room. His eyes gleamed in the firelight. 
 
 " You were asleep, grandpapa, and Johann Leopold had to 
 hurry to catch the two-o'clock train. He had something to 
 attend to in town, he said, but would return to Thalrode in 
 the four-o'clock train. If my cousin Waldemar comes, they 
 will surely meet." 
 
 " Indeed they will. We may rely upon that. From their 
 very infancy they always stood by each other in every silly 
 prank," the Freiherr said, but in a tone so kindly that Aunt 
 Thekla breathed afresh. 
 
 " How did you know all this, my dear Johanna?" Magelone 
 asked, as the Freiherr resumed his walk. 
 
 " As I was starting for the village, Johann Leopold was 
 just driving off," she replied, " and he took me and my 
 bundles as far as the parsonage " 
 
 " It was odd not to bid us good-by !" said Magelone. 
 
 Hildegard approached her. " Why, child, he probably 
 feared your tender remonstrances," she eaid, scornfully, " or 
 it may perhaps have occurred to him at the twelfth hour to 
 purchase you a betrothal-gift." 
 
 Magelone shrugged her shoulders impatiently. At this 
 moment old Christian entered with the lamp, followed by 
 Otto, who handed a letter to the Freiherr. " From Walde- 
 luar," he said. " It has just been brought by an express 
 from Thalrode." 
 
 " He's not coming ; I knew it," whispered Magelone. 
 
 The Freiherr went to the light and began to read, his fac
 
 NEW FEAR'S EVE. 101 
 
 brightening at every word. Before he had finished the sheet 
 he cried out, " This is a surprise ! The boy could nut have 
 pleased me more. He is betrothed !" 
 
 " Waldemar ! Betrothed ? To whom ?" several voices 
 exclaimed together. 
 
 " Hear what he says," said the Freiherr. " The letter is 
 from Vienna. We now know what the urgent business was 
 that kept him away at Christmas. But listen. I will spare 
 you the beginning. Here : ' Since yesterday the happiest of 
 men ' Of course. ' My betrothed, Maria Therese An- 
 toinette Walburg, is the second daughter of Count Anton, the 
 chief of the elder that is, of the Protestant branch. Her 
 mother was a Rotlikirch ; her grandmother, Theodora Klau- 
 eenburg, you used to know, my dear grandfather. Antoinette 
 is said to resemble her. She is eighteen years old, with light- 
 brown hair, blue eyes, a lovely colour, and is tall and stately, 
 like all the Klausenburg women, only, between ourselves, 
 more graceful and elegant. Her loveliness, her modesty, her 
 
 childish gayety, make all hearts her captives ' and so forth- 
 
 and so on ! He continues in that strain a long while, which 
 is of small account, for the lad is in love. But the family is 
 good, and this child probably takes after them. God bless 
 them both 1" 
 
 Aunt Thekla wiped her eyes ; the Freiherr rose, and again 
 paced the room to and fro. " To-morrow we will celebrate a 
 double betrothal, and as soon as possible a double marriage !" 
 he began again after a while. " This joy is quite unexpected. 
 All my Donninghausens shall rejoice with me. I will give 
 an entertainment that shall be the talk of their grandchildren 
 and great-grandchildren. As for you, Thekla, tell my steward 
 to give you whatever you need for your infant-school." 
 
 " Thank you, dear Johann, a thousand times !" she said, 
 blushing with pleasure, as she went to her brother and 
 embraced him. 
 
 9*
 
 102 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 " That will do, sister, that will do !" he said, extricating 
 himself from her embrace. " Come, be quick ! Light the tree 
 and send for the children. I want merry faces about me 1" 
 
 In a few moments the room was illumined by the magic 
 light of the Christmas-tree, and rang with merry childish 
 voices, while little hands were eagerly lifted to receive the last 
 of the tree's sweet fruits, which the great-grandfather de- 
 tached and put into them. Hildegard and Hedwig, much 
 excited, exchanged with Magelone and Otto information with 
 regard to the Walburgs and Rothkirchs, while Aunt Thekla 
 listened to the raging of the storm. 
 
 " Where can the Wildenhayns be, and Johann Leopold ?" 
 she said. " The carriage ought to have been back from 
 Thalrode as soon as the express." 
 
 " Perhaps it is waiting for the eight-o'clock train," said 
 Johanna. 
 
 " If I knew that it was waiting in Thalrode, a messenger 
 might be sent," said Aunt Thekla. " But if Johann Leopold 
 has remained in town " 
 
 She did not finish the sentence. Old Christian entered, and 
 begged Johanna to come into the corridor for a moment. 
 
 " What is the matter?" asked Aunt Thekla. 
 
 " Some one wishes to speak to the Fraulein Johanna," 
 the old man said, in evident agitation. 
 
 Johanna, thinking of Christine, went out hastily, to cut short 
 further explanations; but instead of her whom she expected to 
 gee, she was confronted by a man, tall and broad-shouldered. 
 "Dear Johanna!" he said, advancing and holding out his hand 
 
 " Ludwig !" she exclaimed, delighted. But she was in- 
 stantly struck by his pale, distressed look. " For God's sake, 
 what has happened ?" she asked, keeping his hand tightly 
 clasped in both her own. " What brings you here ?" 
 
 " I come from Hanover, from the death-bed of a friend. 
 But that is not what is the matter. I must consult you."
 
 NEW YEAR'S EVE. 103 
 
 They whispered together for a few moments, then Ludwig 
 followed Christian up -stairs, and Johanna returned to the 
 drawing-room. 
 
 With some hesitation she approached the Freiherr, who 
 was now sitting before the fire, surrounded by the children. 
 " Dear grandfather," she said, standing behind his chair, so 
 that he could not see her face, " my foster-brother, Dr. Lud- 
 wig Werner, has come." 
 
 "Dr. Ludwig Werner?" the Freiherr repeated. "Yes, 
 yes, I recollect. Well, where is he ?" 
 
 Johanna used all her self-control. " He has not come for 
 a visit," she said. " He has been in Hanover, and was going 
 directly back to Lindenbad, but when the train stopped at 
 Thalrode, Johann Leopold fell in leaving it, and " 
 
 " Dead !" cried the Freiherr, sitting erect in his chair. 
 " Say the word at once, without the torture of preparation," 
 he added, as his sister came to him and took his hand. 
 
 " No, he lives ; be assured of that," said Johanna. " He 
 is only stunned by the fall, and that is why Ludwig has come 
 with him. They have carried him to his room." 
 
 For a moment the Freiherr seemed utterly crushed, but 
 with a mighty effort he rose and stood erect. " Come, 
 Thekla," he said, in a monotone. " So long as he breathes let 
 us hope 1"
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 " THAT BLASfi LIEUTENANT." 
 
 IT was a sad New Year's day for Donninghausen. Instead 
 of the double celebration, with its gay anticipations for the 
 future, there were weary anxious hours beside a sick-bed. 
 Johann Leopold had not yet recovered consciousness. The 
 old family physician shrugged his shoulders and admitted 
 that he was powerless, and the physician summoned from 
 town pronounced that in his opinion the patient's condition 
 would end either in death or insanity. Ludwig alone did not 
 relinquish hope, and the calmness in his face and bearing in- 
 spired those about him with courage. 
 
 Therefore the Freiherr would not hear of his leaving them. 
 " I beg you, stay with us ! If you can do but little for my 
 grandson at present, I still must consider your mere presence 
 as a benefit," he said, when Ludwig requested to be driven to 
 Thalrode. 
 
 " Yes, if you possibly can, stay with us," Aunt Thekla 
 added ; and Ludwig could not feel himself justified in re- 
 fusing the entreaty of the old brother and sister. 
 
 On New Year's evening some of the younger members of 
 the family were assembled in the drawing-room. Hedwig, 
 the last to join them, went shivering to the fire, and stretched 
 out her hands before the blaze. 
 
 " I am cold to my very bones," she said. " As I passed 
 the ball-room just now, the door was open, and by the light 
 of the hall-lamp I saw the long white-covered table, and 
 101
 
 "THAT BLASE LIEUTENANT." 105 
 
 thought how soon it might be replaced by black trestles. Oh, 
 I wish we were away ! but Eduard says we must stay it out." 
 
 " Of course we must !" Hildegard exclaimed. " What would 
 grandpapa think of our leaving him alone now ? At such 
 times the family must hold together." 
 
 " I don't see what good our holding together can do," said 
 Magelone. " With the exception of Johanna, who sees that 
 grandpapa and Aunt Thekla do not starve beside the sick- 
 bed" 
 
 " They would be taken care of without her," Hildegard 
 interposed. " However, if she chooses to play Martha, let 
 her ; our task will be different, and much more difficult, at 
 the death-bed and the funeral." 
 
 " How can you think of death and a funeral all because of 
 a fall on the head !" exclaimed Magelone, rising and going to 
 a window-recess. 
 
 Hildegard smiled disdainfully. " The fable of the ostrich," 
 she said. " But what is to be will be, however we may close 
 our eyes to it." 
 
 " Do you really think, then, that he will die ?" asked Hed- 
 wig. 
 
 " The physician from town has given him up," Hildegard 
 replied. 
 
 Hedwig gazed into the fire. After a pause she said, scarce 
 audibly, " If he were to die, Otto would be the heir." 
 
 " And the wayward Magelone would be vis-d-vis :le rien" 
 Hildegard added. 
 
 " I do not think so; it would only be the exchange of a 
 lover for her. Look there !" said Hedwig." She had observed 
 in the mirror that Otto had arisen from the table, where he 
 had been reading the papers, and had joined Magelone. 
 
 Hildegard smiled with an air of superiority. "Never fear," 
 she said, with conviction. " Magelone was very well suited 
 for Johann Leopold, unamiable and misanthropic as he was j
 
 106 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 but if Otto is ever the heir, he may fairly look to make a 
 brilliant match, which he will do. I know our brother." 
 
 She might not have been so very sure if she had heard the 
 conversation in the window-recess. 
 
 "Are you sad, Magelone?'' asked Otto, as he took her 
 hand. " Are you grieving for Johann Leopold ?" 
 
 " Grieving ? No ; your sisters irritated me," she replied. 
 " I detest to have mountains made out of mole-hills. Imagine 
 their talking of death and a funeral !" 
 
 " You are right ; there is no necessity for giving up all 
 hope so soon," said Otto. " But, on the other side, is it not 
 natural that every possibility should present itself to the 
 imagination? I, too, Magelone, with all my trying not to 
 look upon the dark side, have not been able to refrain, since 
 the accident, from asking myself how you would feel, Mage- 
 lone, if if we were to lose Johann Leopold." And he bent 
 over her so that his moustache nearly touched her cheek as he 
 added, " Would you grieve?" 
 
 " I should be very sorry, as we should all be," she said. 
 
 "Not as for the loss of a lover?" he asked again. 
 
 She cast one quick glance up at him, and then her eyelida 
 drooped. " I cannot feign," she whispered. " But why do 
 you tease me so ? What does it matter to you ?" 
 
 She tried to withdraw her hand from his, but he held it 
 fast. " Magelone," he whispered, and there was a passionate 
 tremor in his voice, " have you never remembered that if 
 Johann Leopold dies I am his heir? Understand all that thia 
 means: you, too, would then be mine !" 
 
 " Hush 1" she interrupted him, half in anger, half in terror. 
 " For God's sake, hush ! I will not listen to another word !" 
 And she turned from him and joined his sisters again. 
 
 But his words had fallen upon fruitful soil. Magelone 
 could not but reflect upon the possibility at which he had 
 hinted, and her fancy painted a future based upon this pos-
 
 THAT BLASE LIEUTENANT' 1 107 
 
 sibility. There was an actual change in her sentiments. 
 Otto's words on this New Year's evening could not have been 
 uttered in mere dalliance, and her heart responded in louder 
 throbs than hitherto. There came now and then a fleeting 
 consciousness of wrong, when she would weep and consider 
 herself miserably unhappy ; but she sought consolation iu 
 further imaginings, and when she encountered Otto there was 
 a degree of suppressed emotion in her words and looks which 
 lent a new charm to a creature usually so cool and self-pos- 
 sessed. Otto was, as he confessed to himself, l awfully in 
 love with her.' 
 
 Days passed without bringing any essential change in 
 Johann Leopold's condition. " About the same," was the 
 comfortless answer which the Freiherr made every morning 
 to the anxious inquirers of the family, and he sat more silent 
 and gloomy than ever at the head of the table. The only person 
 with whom he sometimes conversed was Ludwig. 
 
 " If I could only understand what grandpapa can find in 
 that pretentious creature," said Hildegard. " He comes and 
 goes, and gives his opinion quite as if he belonged to us. 
 But where should such people learn to behave themselves ?" 
 
 Magelone said, " So this is the famous foster-brother, Jo- 
 hanna's ideal. The head of a bull-dog on the body of an 
 elephant." 
 
 Eduard and Karl, after Ludwig had smoked a cigar with 
 them, pronounced him a ' first-rate fellow.' Otto found him 
 tedious, and Aunt Thekla called him the ' gentlest and kind- 
 est of men,' while Johanna was constantly hurt and offended 
 by his cynical tone. 
 
 The second day after his arrival she asked him to take a 
 walk with her. As they walked along under the gray wintry 
 skies, the crows flying cawing overhead and the snow crack- 
 ling beneath their feet, Johanna said, " This is like the good 
 old times when you used to come home at Christmas for the
 
 108 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 holidays. Do you remember how we used to make expeditions 
 to see how our summer resorts looked in their winter dress?" 
 
 " Yes," he replied ; " but our walk to-day does not remind 
 me of them. Then your walks with me were not merely 
 occasional ; my home was yours. Remember that since then 
 you have rejected that home and chosen Donninghausen." 
 
 " I hoped you understood my choice and approved it." 
 
 "Understood, yes; approved, no," he replied, and 
 changed the subject. 
 
 A few days later, after the family had all been together 
 in the drawing-room, he said, " I really believe, my dear Jo- 
 hanna, that you have a talent for the stage, you play your 
 part of fine lady so admirably. You even receive the atten- 
 tions of that blase" lieutenant, who must be intolerable to 
 you, so graciously that any one who did not know you so well 
 as I do would be deceived by your manner." 
 
 Johanna blushed. " You are mistaken. I think my cousin 
 Otto very agreeable, and I like to talk with him," she re- 
 joined. 
 
 Ludwig laughed bitterly. " Then I am forced to admire 
 you still more. Not only to seem, but actually to be, what every 
 station in life may require, to suit one's desires and opin- 
 ions to one's surroundings, requires a rare degree of talent." 
 
 " You misunderstand me," she said, offended. 
 
 " I always did," was his reply. 
 
 At the moment Johanna was hurt by such speeches from 
 Ludwig, but she never resented them for long. Perhaps she 
 had an involuntary suspicion that his mistrust and misconcep- 
 tion sprang from disappointed affection, or perhaps her heart 
 was full of other things. The explanation she gave herself 
 was that for the sake of the help and comfort he gave to Jo- 
 hann Leopold, to her grandfather, and to Aunt Thekla, she 
 must forgive her childhood's playmate any harshness of de- 
 meanour.
 
 "THAT BLASE LIEUTENANT." 109 
 
 For a series of years it had been the custom for all the 
 family to stay over Twelfth-Night at Donninghausen, and to 
 leave on the seventh of January. On the morning of the 
 sixth the Wildenhayns were consulting with Otto and Mage- 
 lone as to whether they should depart as usual, or, without 
 any announcement of their intentions, stay until there was 
 some change in Johann Leopold, or, lastly, ask their grand- 
 father what his wishes were in the matter. 
 
 " I must go to-inorrow ; my leave is at an end," said Otto ; 
 and he added, in a tone intended for Magelone alone, " I will 
 come back for the funeral." 
 
 " You should not talk so," she replied, reproachfully. She 
 had been thinking the same thing herself. 
 
 At this moment the Freiherr entered. " Children !" he 
 cried, approaching the group, " thank God with me. Johann 
 Leopold is out of danger." 
 
 There were loud exclamations of delight. Otto's silence 
 was unnoticed. Magelone grew pale, tottered, and would 
 have fallen if Eduard, who stood next her, had not caught 
 her in his arms. 
 
 " It is nothing, nothing," she said, recovering herself. The 
 Freiherr looked keenly at her. " Dear Magelone, compose 
 yourself," he said kindly ; but she could not endure his gaze. 
 She bent down and kissed his hand, bursting into tears as she 
 did so. 
 
 " Nonsense, child ! All is well now. Come, come, com- 
 mand yourself I" And as he conducted her to a seat he said to 
 himself, " She is a warm-hearted little thing after all, and loves 
 the lad better than I thought." 
 
 To reward her, the Freiherr addressed his account of the 
 invalid especially to her. She was obliged to listen to a de- 
 tailed account of Johann Leopold's return to consciousness, 
 and recognition of his grandfather and Aunt Thekla. 
 
 " He is sleeping now," the old Herr concluded. " Christian 
 10
 
 110 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 and Thekla are watching him like dragons guarding a treasure, 
 but as soon as he wakes you shall see him, my dear child." 
 
 Ludwig entering overheard the last words. " I beg pardon, 
 Herr von Donninghausen," he said in his decided way, " but 
 there 1 must interpose my veto. The sick man needs entire 
 rest, and I must entreat that no one except those who have 
 hitherto been with him may enter his room without my per- 
 mission." 
 
 Hildegard stared in haughty surprise at the venturous 
 mortal who dared thus bluntly to contradict the Freiherr. 
 ' Dear grandfather," she said, with the intention of pro- 
 voking the old Herr still further, " if we must all submit to 
 the doctor's orders we are quite useless here, and had better 
 depart to-morrow." 
 
 She fully expected to hear a grim authoritative, " You will 
 stay, and see Johann Leopold as soon as possible !" Instead 
 of which the Freiherr replied, " Yes, children, go. You will 
 come again for the celebration of his recovery and betrothal." 
 And, without noticing his grand-daughter's mortification, he 
 joined the Wildenhayns, who were discussing the patient with 
 Ludwig. 
 
 Hildegard drew her sister aside to the window. Otto went 
 up to Magelone, who was sitting in an arm-chair by the table, 
 meditatively toying with her bracelets. 
 
 " What now ?" he asked in a low voice. 
 
 She looked up at him, but he could not tell whether the 
 gleam in her eyes meant pain, anger, or derision. 
 
 " What now ?" he asked once more, and tried to take her 
 hand, but the slender fingers eluded his clasp. 
 
 " Take care 1" she said, composedly. His face flushec. 
 " That means, in other words, that you are once more Johann 
 Leopold's faithful, submissive true-love," he said, bitterly. 
 " You are like the cat ; she clings to the house, caring nothing 
 about who its possessor may be."
 
 "THAT BLASE LIEUTENANT." HI 
 
 " For shame ! How can you talk to me thus ?" Magelone 
 whispered, as she arose and looked at him with flashing eyes. 
 
 Hedwig's attention was roused. " Is it possible that you 
 two are quarrelling?" she said, approaching them. 
 
 Magelone instantly recovered her composure. " No, indeed ; 
 we are the best of friends," she said, smiling, offering her 
 hand to Otto, who, however, did not kiss it as usual, but, after 
 a slight pressure, relinquished it and left the room. Magelone 
 vowed inwardly that he should not escape punishment. 
 
 But she had no opportunity for revenge. At meal-times 
 the Freiherr, elated by Johann Leopold's improved condition, 
 was more talkative than usual, and Otto took a lively part in 
 the general conversation. Immediately after breakfast he 
 joined Karl and Eduard for a last ride in the forest, and after 
 dinner he never left Johanna's side. 
 
 She seemed to him more sympathetic than ever to-day. 
 " This is genuine truth, simplicity, kindness of heart," he said 
 to himself, as he gazed into her sparkling eyes. What power 
 of expressing love lay in those eyes ! Perhaps if he had 
 chosen they might have spoken love to him. Perhaps if he 
 took some pains they might still do so. If he were obliged 
 to depart on the morrow he could return, and in the mean time 
 memory should plead for him. 
 
 The longer he talked with Johanna, the warmer grew his 
 tone, and even his jesting words took a graver significance. 
 Gradually the words themselves grew grave. 
 
 He had been telling her of his garrison life, of his inter- 
 course with his comrades, and of the society to be found in 
 the houses of the married officers. " Pleasant and social as it 
 all looks, and really is," he continued, " I find it very hard to 
 leave Donninghausen, this time especially : why, you surely 
 know?" 
 
 " I can easily imagine," she replied, with a glance towards 
 Majjelone.
 
 112 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 Did she not understand, or would she not understand? " I 
 do not know whether you are right," said Otto. " It is a new 
 experience for me ; I am not yet used to it. Will you help 
 me?" 
 
 " I do not understand you," she made answer, blushing be- 
 neath his gaze. 
 
 " What I desire is presumptuous 1" he continued. " How 
 
 can you help me ? What I have wasted, I have wasted 
 
 I must wait for new and better days." 
 
 " What have you wasted ?" Johanna asked. 
 
 " Opportunities to gain excellence, happiness, and you !" 
 he replied. " From the first moment of our acquaintance I 
 knew what you could be to me, but, instead of testifying this 
 
 to you, I have squandered my days, from folly, from habit " 
 
 Here he glanced towards Magelone. 
 
 Johanna was pained. " Why will you deny " she began. 
 
 Otto interrupted her : 
 
 " I deny nothing, I am only trying to explain to you 
 and, as for that, to myself also what is going on within me. 
 You have often heard the vanity of men bewailed, but not 
 nearly enough, believe me. Against our better selves, against 
 the demands of our hearts, it gives us over hopelessly into the 
 power of every coquette who knows how to flatter this same 
 vanity. Coquetry itself is a flattery that we are powerless to 
 withstand. Yet how often, while we lie spell-bound, does our 
 soul thirst, and thirsting perish, unless true love comes to 
 succor it !" 
 
 Johanna's heart beat tumultuously, but she tried to appear 
 at her ease, and said with a smile, and without looking up 
 from her work, 
 
 " Poor true love 1 How is it to manage if it does not know 
 how to coquette ?" 
 
 " No need of that 1" Otto rejoined, passionately. " It only 
 needs to show itself simply and seriously for what it is, to
 
 " THAT BLASE LIEUTENANT." 113 
 
 bring to shame all the spells of sorcery. Believe me, Johanna, 
 if I could ever find it, and a single look, a single tone, would 
 reveal it to me, I should be liberated forever." 
 
 He had taken hold of the end of her embroidery, thus 
 obliging her to drop her hands in her lap, but she did not 
 venture to speak or to look up at him. 
 
 " Johanna 1" he began again, after a pause, in a suppressed 
 tone. 
 
 Just then the Freiherr called out, " Come, Otto ; I want 
 to take a hand on this last evening with the Wildenhayns 
 and you." 
 
 The young man arose. "Du sublime au ridicule" he said, 
 with his customary smile of gay mockery, as he went to the 
 whist-table, and the evening passed without any further op- 
 portunity for confidential words with Johanna. 
 
 The next morning Aunt Thekla appeared for the first time 
 since the accident at the break fast- table, in honor of the de- 
 parting guests, who were all going in the ten-o'clock train 
 from Thalrode. She, too, was full of hope for the invalid, 
 and nodded an assent when the Freiherr insisted that all the 
 family should reassemble in Donninghausen to celebrate Jo- 
 hann Leopold's recovery. 
 
 " The Walburgs, of course ; if they come, Waldemar will 
 Burely not stay away, and the postponed festival will be all the 
 gayer," the old Herr concluded. 
 
 Magelone looked at Otto; he was calmly sipping his coffee, 
 and she asked herself, with some anxiety, whether he could 
 really bring himself to depart without a word of explanation 
 with her. 
 
 " Let him for all I care !" she said to herself, in a burst 
 of offended feeling, and after breakfast she devoted herself to 
 the children, who were brought in to say good-by. At the 
 same time involuntarily, perhaps she watched Otto. He 
 spoke with his grandfather and with Aunt Thekla, and then 
 A 10*
 
 114 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 approached Johanna. Resolved to know what they were say- 
 ing to each other, she playfully chased little Johann Eduard 
 around the room until she came near to the pair, and then, 
 kneeling down to tie on the child's hat more securely, she 
 heard Otto lament that he should hear no tidings of Johann 
 Leopold. 
 
 " Aunt Thekla never writes," he added, " and grandpapa, 
 only when he wants to read me a homily. Pray, dear Jo- 
 hanna, write to me sometimes, and tell me how the invalid's 
 recovery progresses." 
 
 In what a tone he spoke ! Involuntarily Magelone sprang 
 tip to interrupt their conversation, but Eduard called out at 
 this moment, " Come, hurry ; it is time." Otto kissed Jo- 
 hanna's hand in farewell, and then turned to Magelone. 
 " Au revoir" he said, coldly. Magelone smiled and said as 
 calmly, " Au revoir" 
 
 But when embraces and farewells were over and the three 
 carriages drove out of the court-yard, gazed after by herself 
 and Johanna, she could no longer control herself, but burst 
 into tears, and hurried into the house. 
 
 The next instant Johanna was at her side. " Dear Mage- 
 lone," she began, gently, and would have taken her hand, 
 but her cousin turned hastily away. " Leave me !" she cried. 
 And, rushing up-stairs to her room, she closed the door and 
 shot the bolt behind her. 
 
 " Oh, this hypocrite !" she exclaimed, and raised her clasped 
 hands to heaven. " She thrusts herself forward everywhere. 
 I cannot endure it any longer, no, I cannot !" 
 
 She sank into an arm-chair, and wept in all the abandon of 
 a child. Suddenly she sat erect, and wiped away her tears. 
 " What folly !" she said to herself. " Am I helpless and un- 
 armed ? I am more beautiful than my rival ; ought I not 
 also to be more skilled, cleverer? It is worth the trial. 
 Otto must and shall return to me."
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 RECOVERY. 
 
 AOAIN the days passed calmly and quietly at Donning* 
 hausen, but they wore a different aspect from those which had 
 preceded Christmas. Then the Freiherr had been the centre 
 around which everything revolved, now it was Johann Leo- 
 pold. Ludwig had pronounced all exciting causes dangerous 
 for his patient, and begged that all his wishes might, as far as 
 possible, be fulfilled. Therefore every one whose presence he 
 requested was relieved from all other claim ; even the meals, 
 from which at other times only serious indisposition could 
 excuse any member of the family, might be disregarded for 
 Johann Leopold's sake. 
 
 With the egotism of an invalid, he required that either 
 Ludwig or Aunt Thekla should be beside him all day, even 
 when he was sleeping. 
 
 He took pleasure also in his grandfather's visits, so long as 
 the old Herr could sit still ; but as soon as he began, according 
 to his habit, to pace the room to and fro, the sick man grew 
 so restless as to oblige Ludwig courteously to dismiss the 
 Freiherr. 
 
 " The lad is like a nervous girl," the latter would then say, 
 with an irritated knitting of his brows; but the next moment 
 he would add, " Well, we must be satisfied with seeing him 
 as well as he is ; by and by he will be perfectly reasonable 
 again." 
 
 Perfect recovery, however, came but slowly. Only gradually 
 did his memory of people and events begin to revive. One 
 
 115
 
 116 A KOBLE NAME. 
 
 morning when his grandfather was sitting beside him he sud- 
 denly said, " Johanna !" and after a while he added, " I want 
 to see her ; let her come to me." 
 
 " Yes, my dear boy, I will send her to you," the Freiherr 
 replied ; " but send for Magelone too, or she will be hurt." 
 
 " Magelone !" he repeated, and his Byes expressed distress. 
 " Magelone ! No, no, she must not come ! I will not see her. 
 It is. all her fault." 
 
 The Freiherr was startled. Johann Leopold was more 
 seriously ill than he had supposed. " I will send Johanna," 
 he said, rising ; but the patient refused now to see even her. 
 " No; send Dr. Werner," he said, fretfully. " I want him; 
 he is the only one who knows what is good for me." 
 
 The next morning he insisted upon seeing Johanna, and she 
 went to him. 
 
 " Sit down ; I have much to say to you," he said, after her 
 first greeting. " Pray, Aunt Thekla, leave us alone." 
 
 The old lady withdrew with an air of surprise. Johann 
 Leopold lay still, staring before him, while Johanna contem- 
 plated him with compassion. His sunken temples, his neg- 
 lected beard, his haggard eyes, made him still look very ill. 
 
 " Red Jakob, what do you know of him ?" he asked at last. 
 
 " I asked Ludwig Dr. Werner, I mean to take your 
 place there," she replied. " You can depend upon him " 
 
 " I know that," he interrupted her. " Well, what does he 
 think ? how is Jakob ?" 
 
 " Not well ; Ludwig thinks his arm will always be useless." 
 
 " I thought so," said the sick man. " Does Christine 
 know it ?" 
 
 " Yes ; I wrote her about it," Johanna made answer. 
 " She was with him yesterday, and came to me afterwards. 
 She was very sad " 
 
 " And has gi^en the poor fellow up, of course," the invalid 
 interposed.
 
 RECOVERY. 117 
 
 14 You do not really believe that," said Johanna. " Do 
 you not remember calling them the ' happy unfortunates' ? 
 Christine considers it a matter of course that she is now to 
 take care of the helpless man. ' God has taken from me my 
 little Jakob, and so I am better able to work for the big one,' 
 she said ; adding that she would do it joyfully if he would 
 only be content, but that it would almost break his heart not 
 to be able to earn his own living." 
 
 " Perhaps he may do so yet. I may be able to help him 
 in that," said Johann Leopold. And after a pause he went 
 on, in a hard tone, " Suppose I were no longer the heir, 
 but ill and a cripple for my lifetime, how would my future 
 betrothed behave to me ? Do not reply. I know that our 
 opinions upon this point agree, and that I cannot lay any 
 claim to affection." 
 
 He looked so unhappy as he spoke that Johanna felt com- 
 pelled to contradict him, but he cut her words short impa- 
 tiently. 
 
 " Let us consult about Red Jakob," he said. " With whole 
 limbs he would have had to go, for the sake of grandpapa's 
 game ; but crippled he may stay. About a mile and a half 
 from here, among the mountains, I have a small estate, in- 
 herited from my mother. It is called Forest Hermitage, and 
 the house is little more than an observatory. The grounds 
 about it I have laid out as a forester's garden. The man who 
 has had the care of it wishes to move down among his chil- 
 dren in the valley. What do you think ? Would Jakob and 
 Christine like to live in that solitude ?" 
 
 " They would be enraptured " Johanna began. 
 
 The invalid interrupted her. " Then Dr. Werner shall 
 propose it to Jakob," he said, and, covering his eyes with 
 his hand, he sighed heavily. " It would enrapture no one 
 to live in a solitude with me," he said, as if to himself, as 
 Johanna, filled with solicitude lest the conversation should
 
 118 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 have been too much for him, called Aunt Thekla from the 
 next room. 
 
 But the exertion seemed to have enabled Johanu Leopold 
 completely to conquer his disease. From this time he made 
 rapid strides in convalescence ; he was soon able to leave his 
 bed, and at the end of January Aunt Thekla announced one 
 morning with tears of joy, " He is coming down at noon 
 to-day." 
 
 Just after this news, as Johanna and Magelone were left 
 alone in the room, the latter said, " Have you written to 
 Otto?" 
 
 " No, not yet." And Johanna bent over her work. 
 
 " He begged you so earnestly to do so. Why should you 
 be so cruel to your friend?" Magelone continued. "You 
 really must do it ; I ask you for my own sake. Otto must 
 have carried off with him my little ivory tablets which he 
 took from me to tease me. Write to him to send them back 
 to me." 
 
 " Why not do so yourself?" Johanna asked. " Then you 
 could inform him concerning Johann Leopold." 
 
 " I ? What are you thinking of?" exclaimed Magelone. 
 " I think he showed great tact in asking you to write." 
 
 " Tact ?" Johanna repeated. " I do not understand you." 
 
 " Why, yes ; of course it would have been painful for me 
 to destroy Otto's hopes. You are unconcerned, and can do 
 so much better. How you look at me !" she went on. " Did 
 you never think that if Johann Leopold were to die, Otto 
 would be the heir ?" 
 
 " Magelone! You cannot believe that Otto reckoned upon 
 that?" cried Johanna. 
 
 " I do not believe it : I know it. He has talked with me 
 of it more than once," Magelone replied. And after a pause 
 she added, with a mocking smile, " How you look, my dear 
 Johanna ! Is it possible that you can have been at all mis-
 
 RECOVERY. 119 
 
 tasen in our cousin Otto ? His is no ideal character. He 
 is a thorough man of the world, selfish and grasping in the 
 extreme." 
 
 Johanna made no reply, and was glad when Magelone soon 
 after left the room. How could it be that this woman, who 
 had known Otto from childhood, should judge him so falsely ? 
 A man of the world, yes ; but far too gay and warm-hearted 
 to be capable of the calculation with which Magelone ac- 
 credited him. Johanna told herself that she had been wrong 
 to delay sending him the letter for which he had begged her, 
 and she resolved to write to him to-day. 
 
 But as she sat pen in hand with the paper before her, she 
 discovered that Magelone's remarks had produced an effect. 
 The ease with which, before hearing them, she could have 
 expressed her delight in Johann Leopold's recovery was 
 gone. What she wrote seemed to her first like a protest 
 against Magelone's declaration, and then to be too warmly ex- 
 pressed. When she had destroyed several beginnings she 
 confined herself to a mere announcement of Johann Leopold's 
 rapid improvement, with a request for the return of Mage- 
 lone's memorandum-tablets. When the letter had gone, she 
 would fain have recalled it. 
 
 Ludwig had requested that there should be no demon- 
 strations of pleasure at Johann Leopold's reappearance in 
 the family circle ; and when the convalescent joined them, the 
 Freiherr, Aunt Thekla, and Johanna greeted him quietly as if 
 he had not been absent. Leo, however, would not be re- 
 pressed ; he leaped up upon the friend whom he had so long 
 missed, barking loudly, and nearly knocked him down. At 
 this moment Magelone entered the room. 
 
 " Johann. Leopold !" she cried joyously, and, hastening to 
 him, she took his hand in both her own and looked up at him 
 with sparkling eyes. He grew paler than before. 
 
 " Do not trouble yourself, I know all you would say. I
 
 120 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 know my friends," he said, in a tone audible only to herself, 
 aa he withdrew his hand. 
 
 She changed color, but the next moment she smiled again, 
 and, with a slight shrug, took her usual seat at the window. 
 Aunt Thekla, who had heard nothing, but had observed the 
 manner of the two, looked anxiously at her brother, who, 
 however, was talking with Ludwig, pacing the room to and 
 fro the while, and seemed to have noticed nothing of the 
 meeting. 
 
 " Leave us ! No, my dear doctor, you must not think of 
 it," he said now, pausing in his walk. " After all the sad 
 days which you have passed with us, you must learn some- 
 thing of the cheerful side of Db'nninghausen." 
 
 " Cheerful side 1" Magelone repeated to herself, casting an 
 expressive look upwards, while the Freiherr added, " You said 
 lately that you were about to write a book ; do it here." 
 
 " Thank you, Herr von Dbnninghausen," Ludwig replied ; 
 " but I could find no leisure here for writing. Good work 
 must be done among those who work too." 
 
 The Freiherr tossed his head. " There we have the arro- 
 gance of the scholar," he said, and his eyes flashed beneath 
 his bent brows. " Do you mean to imply that I do not work?" 
 
 Ludwig smiled. " Let us make a distinction. You work 
 at your good pleasure as the whim seizes you, while the work 
 to which I allude must be the result of a certain outward or 
 inward pressure. Moreover, the projected book will not be 
 written at present. I am going to India." 
 
 " And you tell us this only when you are just going away?" 
 .Johanna cried, reproachfully; and Aunt Thekla asked, drop- 
 ping her work in her lap, " For heaven's sake, my dear doc- 
 tor, what can you want in India ?" 
 
 Ludwig came to the window where they were sitting. " Study, 
 madame," he said. " An expedition, half scientific, half mer- 
 cantile, is about to start for Gujerat and the Vindhya Moun-
 
 RECOVERY. 121 
 
 taius. I join it 83 physician. Moreover, my final decision 
 was made only to-day." 
 
 " What does your father say to it?" asked Johanna. 
 
 " Of course he made all sorts of objections at first, but grad- 
 ually he relinquished his opposition, and now he admits that 
 the journey will be of great advantage to me." 
 
 The Freiherr again interrupted his walk. "Advantage!" he 
 growled. " What advantage can India bring to a German phy 
 sician ? But science and trade are the idols of the present 
 age, to which men sacrifice not only human beings but sound 
 gense into the bargain !" 
 
 With these words he left the room, closing the door behind 
 him with a crash. 
 
 Aunt Thekla grew pale and red by turns. " Pray do not 
 be offended with my brother," she began. 
 
 Johann Leopold interposed : " What is there to be offended 
 about ?" and he smiled faintly. " You ought to feel nattered, 
 my dear doctor. Grandpapa wishes to keep you here, and is 
 angry to think that you can prefer India to our Donning- 
 hausen. Donninghausen, you must know, is in the eyes of 
 every member of the family the very ideal of perfection, a 
 paradise on earth." 
 
 " Not in my eyes," Magelone called out from the other win- 
 dow : it was insufferable to have no one taking any notice of 
 her. 
 
 " My child, how can you say so?" Aunt Thekla admonished 
 her. 
 
 " And why not?" Magelone replied. " You all of you have 
 such a passion for the truth, why should I not say that I like 
 Berlin a thousand, nay, a million times better than Donning- 
 hausen, that I have been better entertained in papa's meanest 
 garrison-town than here?" She yawned. " Every morning 
 when I wake I wonder why the slumber of the Sleeping 
 Beauty does not overtake us." 
 r 11
 
 122 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 As she said this, s-he glanced from beneath her drooping eye- 
 lids towards Johann Leopold. She wanted to vex him : he 
 had been too disagreeable. But he rose with an air of in- 
 difference, the bell for the second breakfast had just rung, 
 approached her, and offered her his arm. 
 
 " With your views I should have you on my side if I were 
 to imitate the doctor and take a flight into the world," he said. 
 " But no more at present; our grandfather must know nothing 
 of it as yet." 
 
 Again they sat at table side by side as before the accident, 
 and Magelone forced herself to discuss indifferent topics in- 
 differently, but all the while the question would obtrude itself. 
 " What did her cousin's ' into the world' mean ?" Was he 
 only jesting, or was it a concealed menace, or the mere whim 
 of a sick man ? 
 
 " He is too indolent to go away," it was thus she consoled 
 herself, " and grandpapa would not allow it, nor would I." So 
 long as she could consider Johann Leopold as securely her own 
 he was more than indifferent to her, but now when it looked 
 as if he were freeing himself, withdrawing from her sway, 
 she wanted at all hazards to hold him fast, and this not from 
 calculation alone. He had repulsed her advances to day, but 
 ice does not melt beneath the first sunbeam, and her amiability 
 must conquer, like the sunshine, through persistency. If the 
 doctor were only gone ! His keen, observing glance made her 
 Tancomfortable. 
 
 Her wish was shortly to be fulfilled ; Ludwig departed on 
 the following morning. Very early, while he was busy pack- 
 ing, Johann Leopold came to his room. " I do not mean tc 
 disturb you," he said, throwing himself down on a sofa, " but 
 I cannot spare one moment of you. You have spoiled me ; I 
 shall be doubly lonely now." 
 
 Ludwig frowned. " Do not be so weak," he said ; " it is not 
 fitting. You look badly, you have not slept well."
 
 RECOVERY. 123 
 
 " I have not slept at all," Johann Leopold replied. " After 
 our conversation of last evening, after your answer to mv 
 questions " 
 
 " You wanted the truth," Ludwig interrupted him, " and I 
 thought I owed it to you." 
 
 " You did, and I thank you foi it ; but it is hard to 
 bear." 
 
 Ludwig's lips quivered, as they always did when he was 
 moved, and for a while he went on stuffing some things into 
 his portmanteau ; then he said, " Finish it all quickly ; there 
 should be no half measures where the knife is necessary." 
 
 Johann Leopold passed his hand wearily across his forehead 
 and eyes. " You are right ; it is time I should do what must 
 be done." 
 
 " If you see that, do it instantly, to-day, within an hour ! 
 Can I help you ? Perhaps it would be easier for you if I 
 spoke with the Freiherr " 
 
 Johann Leopold started up and changed colour. " No, no, 
 I must do it myself; I must first be clear in my own mind. 
 But I thank you," he added more quietly, " and later I may 
 entreat your help in another way. I may reckon upon it, may 
 I not ?" 
 
 " Upon my best efforts, assuredly," Ludwig answered, press- 
 ing the delicate white hand extended to him. " But what do 
 you mean ? I am not fond of vague promises." 
 
 " You shall know more as soon as possible. Your ship sails 
 on the 14th of March, time enough to arrange everything," 
 said the other, sinking back among the sofa-cushions. 
 
 " Time enough to fall back into the old indolence," thought 
 Ludwig, but he did not utter his thought, and hurriedly fin- 
 ished locking his trunk and portmanteau. 
 
 The servant came to say that the carriage was waiting. 
 
 " Stay here !" Ludwig said, decidedly, as Johann Leopold 
 rose. " The morning is bitterly cold ; it is another kind of
 
 124 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 hardening process to which I would have you subject yourself. 
 Good-by." 
 
 They shook hands, and before Johann Leopold could add a 
 word of gratitude to his 'Farewell,' Ludwig had left the room 
 and closed the door after him. 
 
 Leave-taking was so painful to him that he had suppressed 
 all mention to the family of the time of his departure, and 
 had only late on the preceding evening requested of Johann 
 Leopold to order his conveyance in the morning ; but he was 
 not to escape thus. In the lower story old Christian requested 
 him to step into the drawing-room for a moment, and there> 
 to his surprise, he found the entire family, with the exception 
 of Johann Leopold; even Magelone had not ventured to 
 absent herself. 
 
 The Freiherr came towards him with outstretched hands. 
 " My dear doctor, you wanted to steal away," he said, " but 
 we could not allow it. It is not my fashion to talk of grati- 
 tude, but I hope you know what obligations we are all under 
 to you. You have grown dear to us, and I beg and hope 
 that you will in future consider Donninghausen as another 
 home in the full sense of the word. So soon as you return 
 from your travels we shall expect you." And he kissed the 
 young man's forehead, as he was wont to do in taking leave 
 of all belonging to him. Aunt Thekla with tears in her eyes 
 wished him a happy journey, and hoped he had breakfasted 
 well. Magelone offered him her finger-tips with a smile, and 
 Johanna, who had on her hat and cloak, declared that she was 
 going to drive to Thalrode with him, 
 
 With sparkling eyes he followed her into the corridor, but 
 at the head of the stairs he paused and took her hand. " Dear 
 Johanna, I thank you ; but let me drive off alone," he said. 
 " It is only prolonging a farewell if you accompany me. 
 Stay here for my sake. Good-by ! good-by !" 
 
 His last words were scarcely audible. He took her in bin
 
 RECOVERY. 125 
 
 arms, and for the first time in his life kissed her on the lips, 
 a long, ardent kiss, that thrilled her to the heart. Then, while 
 she stood as in a dream, he ran down the stairs. The next' 
 moment the door of the carriage was shut, and the wheels 
 ra'tled over the pavement of the court-yaid.
 
 CHAPTER X T L 
 
 CELA N'ENGAGE A RIEN. 
 
 THE first days of March had come. The Freihcrr wished 
 to ride to the saw-mill, and asked Johanna to go with him ; 
 but, just as they had mounted their horses, a farmer arrived 
 to speak with the Freiherr, who never allowed a working-man 
 to wait. So he gave Johanna directions, and she started off 
 for the saw-mill in the clear morning, escorted by Leo. 
 
 The long frost had been followed by a rain, and now the 
 sun was shining. An east wind blew fresh over hill and dale, 
 here and there only on the edges of the meadows narrow 
 strips of snow still lingered, while the fields at the foot of the 
 mountains showed the tender green of the winter wheat. The 
 brook, freed from its icy fetters, foamed along between high 
 banks, and from every bush by the roadside finches, thrushes, 
 and redbreasts proclaimed that winter no longer held sway. 
 
 Johanna, too, felt the happy influence of the ' blind mo- 
 tions of the spring.' Latterly she had been greatly depressed, 
 anxiety on Ludwig's account, she said to herself. He had 
 written that his principal object in going to India was to study 
 climatic fevers; but what really troubled her, although she 
 did not acknowledge it to herself, was Otto's silence. More 
 than five weeks had passed since she had written to him, and 
 she had received no reply. Magelone asked nearly every day, 
 " No letter from Otto yet ? I call it very discourteous." 
 And Johanna could not bring herself to confess that the cold 
 tone of her letter was probably the cause of his silence. She 
 could not herself understand how, after their last conversation. 
 126
 
 CELA N ENGAGE A RIEN. 127 
 
 she could have brought herself to write so. She repeatedly 
 told herself that Otto could not possibly reply, and yet she 
 looked for some word from him, eagerly and anxiously, as 
 each post came in. 
 
 To-day she had felt especially melancholy, out the airs of 
 spring swept away all trouble from her mind. As she looked 
 around her she forgot herself, and felt only the refreshing re- 
 newal of life everywhere abroad. 
 
 She had followed the travelled road upwards, the saw-mill 
 was at the upper end of the valley, through the village, over 
 the bridge, and across the meadows on the right bank of the 
 stream. But whilst stopping at the mill to deliver her grand- 
 father's message, she looked longingly over to the steep left 
 bank. In spite of the miller's remonstrances, she rode her 
 horse over the wooden bridge ; he clambered up the rocky ascent, 
 and away went steed and rider along the narrow path on the 
 edge of the forest. She felt as though she had wings. 
 
 Suddenly at a turn of the valley she perceived two horse- 
 men coming up the stream on the right bank, and, recognizing 
 her grandfather and old Martin, the groom, she remembered 
 that the Freiherr had called after her, " If I can, I will come 
 to meet you." 
 
 He, too, saw her now. He stopped, beckoned, shouted to 
 her something that she could not understand, and then turned 
 his horse. But she had already turned hers. She gave the 
 spirited creature a slight cut with her whip, and as she shook 
 her bridle-rein it leaped from the high bank directly across the 
 , foaming stream. For an instant Johanna felt stunned as she 
 found herself on the right bank. Leo ran to and fro on the 
 other side, barking in great distress. 
 
 The Freiherr rode towards her. "Are you mad, child ?'"' he 
 called out to her from afar, whilst old Martin observed, with 
 a grin, " There's no deuyin' that our Friiulein rides equal to 
 auy dragoon."
 
 128 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 And her grandfather, too, made but a poor feint of dis- 
 pleasure. When he found both horse and rider unharmed, he 
 added, " Thunder and lightning ! that was a leap that I should 
 have been proud of myself when I was a young fellow. How 
 did you come to take it, my girl ?" 
 
 She laughed. " I hardly know myself," she said. " I did 
 Kot take time to think ; I had to do it." 
 
 " Just like me !" exclaimed the Freiherr. " Yes, yes, you 
 we my own flesh and blood, a genuine Donninghausen, and a 
 rare one." He frowned, and for a while they rode along in 
 silence. Then he said, " It is nonsense to leave you out of 
 the family, and a stop must be put to it. I had intended to 
 surprise you at the New Year's dinner with the intelligence 
 that I am going to adopt you and give you my name, that there 
 may be no longer any disagreeable memory between us. Jo- 
 hann Leopold's accident prevented it. I tell you to-day as a 
 reward for your feat of horsemanship." 
 
 Johanna was startled. At another time she might not have 
 ventured *ay remonstrance ; now the exhilarating effect of her 
 ' feat of Jorsemanship' had not yet passed off, and she replied, 
 in a low. firm voice, "Thank you, my dear grandfather; I 
 know how kindly you mean this, but I cannot accept your 
 offer." 
 
 " Johanna I" he growled, interrupting her ; but she was not 
 to be intimidated. 
 
 " No, I cannot I" she repeated. " You pride yourself upon 
 your forbears, and I am as proud of my father and the dis- 
 tinguished name he bequeathed to me. Grandpapa, I thank 
 you from my very soul, but to repudiate this name would be a 
 transgression of the fifth commandment." 
 
 At first her grandfather's eyes had flashed angrily, but the 
 longer she spoke the gentler became his looks and his air. 
 Johanna never had pleased him so well as at this moment, 
 with her glowing cheeks and sparkling eyes. However sha
 
 CELA N' ENGAGE A RIEN. 129 
 
 might cling in her childish delusion to the plebeian name, she 
 showed race, Donninghausen race, and, moreover, her bold, 
 fearless opposition did him good. To every despotic nature 
 there come moments of weariness of a rule over slaves. And 
 the allusion to the fifth commandment had its effect. 
 
 " If this is the way you take it, I must give up my plan," 
 he said. " I enjoin upon no one any transgression of duty, 
 any sin against God's commands. But you take a wrong view 
 
 of it. When you marry " He broke off suddenly, and 
 
 his face grew dark again. Who in his own sphere would 
 marry the actor's daughter, since she spurned in foolish arro- 
 gance the bridge which kind hands would have built for her ? 
 But ingratitude was always the reward of kindness. Otto, 
 too, was deaf to his grandfather's well-meant admonitions, and 
 Johann Leopold looked upon all his plans for his future with 
 indifference, if not with aversion. This must not be 1 
 
 The Freiherr returned to the castle in gloomy mood, and 
 had scarcely reached his room when Johann Leopold made his 
 appearance with his letters for the post. 
 
 ''Stay here; I have something to say to you," the Freiherr 
 ordered, as he turned to leave the room. Johann Leopold 
 changed colour ; the Freiherr noticed it, and the veins in his 
 forehead began to swell. " Why do you turn so pale ?" he 
 asked, angrily. " Do me ilie favour to sit down, or I shall 
 have you fainting away shortly. You are ill, nervous, and 
 must be treated cautiously, Thekla says. Deuce take iti 
 Brace yourself, my lad, and cheer up \ The heir of Donning, 
 hausen must not go lagging about like an hysterical girl !" 
 
 The old Herr folded his arms across his broad chest and 
 went to the window. Johana Leopold, who, hi obedience to 
 his grandfather, had taken a seat at the table in the centre of 
 the room, said, with an evident effort, " You are right ; the 
 present condition of affairs is intolerable; nevertheless, I hope 
 to be able to prove to you tliat I have worked hard to alter it.
 
 130 A NOBLE NAME 
 
 If I have been silent hitherto, it has been, in great part at 
 least, out of regard for you." 
 
 The Freiherr turned round. " Worked hard been silent 
 regard for ine !" he growled. " What does all this mean ? 
 Collect yourself. Nothing extraordinary is required of you. 
 Only some little sympathy with my task, the administration 
 of the property which will, heaven only knows how soon, be 
 your own ; and your betrothal with Magelone." 
 
 Johann Leopold clutched the arms of his chair, his palo 
 face grew ashen, and without looking up he said, almost with 
 a gasp, " Dear grandfather, I can neither be the heir nor 
 marry Magelone. I have inherited my mother's disease, and 
 have resolved not to bequeath it further." 
 
 " Johann Leopold !" the Freiherr almost shouted, and in 
 two strides he stood beside him. " Diseases can be cured," he 
 added, after a pause. 
 
 The young man shook his head. " Not this one," he said, 
 sadly. " When my father wooed the heiress of Moorgarten, 
 her parents informed him that the terrible curse had been in- 
 herited in their family for generations ; but he said, as you do, 
 ' Diseases can be cured.' He loved the pale, grave girl, 
 and in spite of her illness they were very happy during their 
 brief married life, so happy that my poor mother did not 
 long survive her husband's death. Long enough, however, to 
 know that the curse of her race had been bequeathed to me." 
 
 The Freiherr stopped pacing to and fro and stood still before 
 the young man. "Impossible!" he said, "impossible! You 
 imagine all this ; you are a hypochondriac. We, Thekla and 
 I, would have known of it." 
 
 " Old Christian knows it," the other rejoined. " My 
 mother delivered me into his care, and like a mother he has 
 guarded me and my sad secret. The attacks are rare, but 
 very sudden. My fall on the Thalrode railway platform ww 
 in consequence of one of them."
 
 GEL A N> ENGAGE A RIEN. 131 
 
 Again the Freiherr began his walk ; but his step, usually 
 so firm, was now uncertain, and his head, usually so proudly 
 carried, was bowed. After a while he went up to Johann Leo- 
 pold, who sat buried in thought. "It is a trial, a terrible 
 trial," he said, laying his hand on the young man's shoulder; 
 " but I think it will be easier for you, my poor boy, if we all 
 help you to bear it. Magelone, too, will help, she IOTCS 
 you " 
 
 " No, sir," Johann Leopold interrupted him. " Magelone 
 
 consented only to marry the heir ; but to love him !" 
 
 He smiled bitterly. " And, even if she did, I never would 
 consent to bind her fresh young life to mine. I love her 
 too well for that. Apart, indeed, from all personal considera- 
 tions, how could I consent to taint the pure blood of the 
 Dbnninghausens with the poison of epilepsy ?" 
 
 " The pure blood of the Donninghausens." The most 
 powerful chord in the old Freiherr's soul vibrated to these 
 words ; at the same time they made the grandson, whose 
 thoughts were so after his own heart, doubly dear to him and 
 the desire to help him all the more fervent. He sat down 
 beside him and took his hand. 
 
 " Diseases can be cured," he said again. " What is the 
 lauded advance of science, if it can be of no service here? 
 Did you speak of this to Dr. Werner?" 
 
 " Yes ; his verdict is ' incurable,' " the other replied. 
 
 The Freiherr sprang to his feet. " Nonsense 1 How can he 
 kuow that?" he cried, angrily. "Dr. Werner is young, in- 
 experienced. We must consult distinguished authorities. I 
 will go with you to Paris, to London, to Vienna, wherever 
 you choose." 
 
 " I thank you," the young man rejoined. " Your sympathy 
 and kindness do me good ; but I entreat you to spare yourself 
 and me the pain of any such consultations. Quiet ease of 
 mind, as Werner says is the only preservative against the
 
 132 A XOBLE NAME. 
 
 attacks, and this I can find, not in any medical advice, but in. 
 absence, in separation from Magelone." 
 
 The Freiherr was silent for a -while, and then said, " Have 
 you any plan of travel ?" 
 
 " Yes; I should like to join Werner and go to India with 
 him." 
 
 The Freiherr turned short upon him again : " To India ? 
 In your condition the fatigue of the journey, the influence of 
 the climate " 
 
 " All better for me than staying here," Johann Leopold 
 interrupted him, and his pale face flushed for an instant. 
 After a pause he went on more calmly : " I have been cor- 
 responding with Dr. Werner about it. He made at first the 
 same objections that you make ; but he finally acknowledged 
 that my morbid desire for just this journey is perhaps a true 
 instinct, a suggestion of nature." 
 
 The Freiherr breathed more freely. " There, you see, a 
 suggestion of nature. Then Dr. Werner thinks your recovery 
 possible. And it is so ; you must be well. Yes, my lad, go, 
 go as soon as you choose ; and if I can be of any service 
 to you, rely upon me." 
 
 " If you would have an eye upon Moorgarten and Elgerode 
 [ should be greatly obliged to you." 
 
 " Certainly I will ; refer your people to me," said the Frei- 
 herr. " But I have one condition to make : we will explain 
 that you are ill, and are to travel in search of health. What 
 youi illness is must remain our secret. If you come back 
 well, it need never be known." 
 
 Johann Leopold passed his hand across his brow and eyes 
 with his own peculiar gesture of weariness. " Magelone must 
 be told."" 
 
 " Least of all Magelone !" cried his grandfather. " If she 
 cannot be spared it always well, then she must endure it; 
 but let her hope as long as she can. She deserves it at your
 
 CELA N> ENGAGE A RIEN. 133 
 
 bands. She loves you. I saw that plainly while you were 
 ill." 
 
 The young man smiled bitterly again, arose, and went to 
 the window. Before him lay the park, with its lindens of a 
 hundred years, which had shaded his childish games ; beyond 
 it soared the mountain-peaks, Eichberg, Klettberg, and 
 Elbenhbhe, with their magnificent forests and hunting- 
 grounds, which he had been taught from infancy to regard aa 
 his inheritance, and for the care of which he felt himself re- 
 sponsible, as well as for the villagers nestling in the valley 
 under the protection of the ancient castle of Dbnninghausen. 
 
 To resign it all voluntarily was hard ; and yet how much 
 harder was it to resign his claim superficial although it 
 were upon Magelone ! He had long been convinced that it 
 must be done, but he had always shrank and hesitated. Lud- 
 wig's words ' Never delay where the knife is necessary' 
 occurred to him. He would not any longer keep himself and 
 others in useless suspense. 
 
 " Grandfather," he said, in a tone of forced composure, " it 
 would be best to put a speedy end to it all, to give me up 
 as a forlorn hope. Let the heirship devolve upon Otto ; and 
 Magelone " 
 
 " The heirship to Otto !" the Freiherr interposed, in a voice 
 of thunder. " Never, so long as I have a voice in the matter ! 
 That would be certain ruin for Donninghausen. Remember. 
 Scarcely two years ago Otto made away with everything 
 he had inherited from his mother, and think of the debts I 
 have paid for him since !" 
 
 " That is over, sir," said Johann Leopold. " Since Otto 
 promised you he would never play again, he has never my 
 information comes from a trustworthy source touched a 
 card." 
 
 The Freiherr, who was again pacing to and fro, waved his 
 hand in sign of disapproval. " I do not trust the fellow," he
 
 134 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 murmured ; and then went on aloud, " Why discuss matters 
 which are quite out of the question ? You are the heir, uud 
 the heir you will remain, even although" he hesitated a 
 moment " even although you should decide not to marry. 
 I can transfer to you the work of my life in full confidence 
 that you will continue it after my own fashion. I rely upon 
 you to do so, difficult as you may find it, and even although 
 the task requires you to resign one or another of your own 
 inclinations. A lofty position in this world entails upon us 
 certain duties. Men of our rank, my dear boy, cannot choose 
 a sphere of action. We are born into it, and it is our duty . 
 we owe it to ourselves to shape ourselves to it to the best of 
 our ability." 
 
 Johann Leopold looked down ; he breathed heavily, and 
 his lips were tightly compressed. He had laboured hard for 
 mouths to form a resolution, and when it was formed to carry 
 it out, and now he perceived, with a kind of terror, that his 
 grandfather's words had shaken his decision. Was it not as the 
 Freiherr said ? Was it not a cowardly desertion of the post 
 which fate had accorded him to resign the inheritance of his 
 ancestors, and to break with the duties and traditions of his 
 rank and family ? But besides his grandfather's voice others 
 were speaking aloud within him, requiring as urgently that 
 he should abide by what he thought right. When the Frei- 
 herr paused before him, saying, " I trust, Johann Leopold, 
 that I may rely upon you," he looked up ; he was not yet 
 clear in his mind, and in every way strength failed him for a 
 final decision. "I will try to get well," he replied, although 
 he did not believe in the possibility of recovery. 
 
 His grandfather grasped his hand. " That's right, my 
 boy 1 Only try, and you will do it !" he exclaimed, with a 
 joyous hopefulness that, )ld as he was, always lent him a 
 certain youthful freshness. " Let us have no hypochondriacal 
 complaints, no morbid self-examinations. It is well for you
 
 CELA N' ENGAGE A RIEN. 135 
 
 to go away for a while; it will give you something else to think 
 of. Now for your preparations for your journey, that you may 
 go as soon as possible." 
 
 The young man then confessed that, relying upon his grand- 
 father's consent, he had already empowered Dr. Werner to 
 arrange for his journey as far as possible ; all that remained 
 to be done he would himself attend to in Vienna, where he 
 wanted to pass a few days. 
 
 " It would be best to follow Dr. Werner on the day after 
 to-morrow," he added. " The vessel sails from Trieste on 
 the 14th of this month. Everything here is arranged and 
 attended to." 
 
 The Freiherr was surprised ; he had not looked for so speedy 
 a departure, but he was ashamed to seem averse to it. 
 
 " Well, then, the day after to-morrow," he said ; " only bear 
 up, my boy, against the women's tears." 
 
 " No one will grieve," Johann Leopold replied, with a mel- 
 ancholy smile. 
 
 Indeed, what with bustle and excitement, there was scarcely 
 time for grief; but Aunt Thekla supplied tears and lamenta- 
 tions enough as she superintended the packing of the trunks. 
 
 It was bad enough that such a dear good creature as Dr. 
 Werner would insist upon undertaking such a foolish expedi- 
 tion ; and then, too, he did it for the love of science. But 
 what a Donninghausen could find to do in India the old 
 lady could not for the life of her conceive ; and still less did 
 she understand how her brother could let the lad, hardly 
 recovered as he was, leave Donninghausen. But the Freiberr 
 seemed better friends than ever with Johann Leopold. His 
 voice and look when he addressed him were most kind, and some- 
 times when he thought himself unperceived he would gaze at 
 his grandson with an expression of such anxiety as went to 
 Aunt Thekla's very heart. 
 
 To Johanna Johann Leopold had much to say; he com-
 
 136 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 missioned her to install Red Jakob and Christine in the 
 Forest Hermitage ; told her where to address her letters to 
 him, and promised to write to her in return. He was as taci 
 turn as ever with Magelone, but his eyes spoke a different lan- 
 guage from any she had read in them before. What was the 
 meaning in those deep, grave, melancholy eyes ? 
 
 The last morning he handed his grandfather a letter. " For 
 Magelone," he said. " Let her give you her answer, and you 
 will write me what it is. Do not urge her, do not influence 
 her; and if she thinks she can find her happiness elsewhere, 
 let no consideration for me prevent her from grasping it." 
 
 The letter ran thus : 
 
 "DEAR MAGELONE, You know that considerations of 
 health have determined me to this journey, which will keep 
 me absent for an uncertain period from you and from my 
 home. Only my grandfather and yourself must know that I 
 am very ill, perhaps hopelessly so, and it is with great pain that 
 I add that under these circumstances it seems to me dishonour- 
 able to hold you bound by the half betrothal at present existing 
 between us. If I should one day return well, and find you still 
 free, and ready anew to bestow upon me your heart and hand, 
 my most ardent desire will be fulfilled ; and perhaps, dear Mage- 
 lone, I might then be better qualified to win you than now, when 
 illness depresses and embitters me. But your future must not 
 depend upon this perhaps; you must not, upon my account, 
 reject or turn away from what might make you happy. You 
 are free, perfectly free. Show our grandfather this letter, that 
 he may know how we stand with regard to each other. If 
 you can give him a kind word of comfort for me no promise ; 
 I cannot accept any such from you now I shall be heartily 
 grateful to you. Once more, dear Magelone, you are free, 
 whilst I am now and forever yours, 
 
 " JOHANN LEOPOLD."
 
 CELA N 1 ENGAGE A RIEN. 137 
 
 1 As soon as the carriage bearing away the traveller had van- 
 ished from the eyes that were watching its departure, the Frei- 
 herr handed this letter to Magelone. He pitied ' the warm- 
 hearted little thing,' as he had called her ever since Johann 
 Leopold's accident, all the more since she bore her grief with 
 astonishing fortitude. Not a tear, not a sob, not a fainting- 
 fit, nothing of all that he so detested. She had extricated 
 herself from Johann Leopold's last embrace like a little 
 heroine, merely pressing her handkerchief once to her eyes. 
 Not one of the women among his vaunted ancestry could have 
 conducted herself better upon the departure of a Db'nninp'- 
 hausen for the Holy Land. 
 
 " God willing, she shall be the lad's wife yet, and the mis- 
 tress of this old cradle of our. race !" the Freiherr thought, 
 and handed her the letter. 
 
 And then the ' little heroine 1 went to her own room, where 
 she read and reread the strange farewell lines. Oddly enough, 
 although they contained none of the flattering words of love 
 which she had often heard from others, there breathed from 
 them a deep, ardent affection, and while the writer's words 
 declared her free, she felt more than ever how he longed to 
 bind her fast. Had the suspicions she had felt of him and 
 of Johanna been groundless, then ? or was he tired of stray- 
 ing and returning to her repentantly ? However it might be, 
 she determined to forgive him, since he lay at her feet once 
 more. It was a pity that she must do so from such a distance ! 
 It made her laugh to think of it. 
 
 After a short period of reflection, she took the letter to her 
 grandfather. 
 
 " Well, what am I to write to Johann Leopold ?" he asked, 
 when he had read it through, and he looked fixedly at her; 
 but ah ! his frank, honest gaze could not sound the depths cf 
 those flashing, glimmering, elfish eyes. 
 
 " I send him a thousand greetings, and wish and hope for 
 12*
 
 138 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 his speedy return well and strong," Magelone replied, with a 
 sweet smile. 
 
 " Right, child ; those are the kind words which the silly 
 fellow asks of you," said the Freiherr. " He has, as I see. 
 forbidden you to give him any promise ; but that is no affair 
 of mine. Tell me frankly, I had better know the truth, do 
 you, as well as he, in spite of this letter, hold yourself bound ?" 
 
 He held out his broad hand to her, and she laid her rosy 
 fingers in it. " Certainly, grandpapa dear," she said, without 
 hesitation. 
 
 The Freiherr clasped her in his arms. 
 
 " That's right, that's right, my child ; I expected no less of 
 you," he said. 
 
 Only when she had left him did she feel a slight doubt 
 whether she had been wise. " It was foolish," she said to 
 herself, as she walked along the corridor. " I ought to have 
 played a sensible part and accepted my freedom." But in- 
 stantly afterwards she shrugged her shoulders and said, with 
 a smile, "But what matter? Cela n engage d rien."
 
 CHAPTER XIIL 
 
 JOHANNA TO LUDWIQ. 
 
 " DONNINGHAUSEN, May 10, 1874. 
 
 " I MUST confess, my dear Ludwig, that I laughed heartily 
 over your last letter, that is, over the lecture at the end 
 of it. Nevertheless, you are right, and I will pay it all 
 heed. 
 
 " So you do not want me to send you ' philosophic obser- 
 vations,' ' thot we doa wer awnselves,' our peasants say. 
 but a minute description of my daily life. Listen, then, you 
 dear snappy old friend, to the record of my days. 
 
 " Whilst you were writing the letters from Suez and Aden, 
 which only arrived the day before yesterday, in the midst 
 of the tropical verdure and sunshine which they describe, 
 our northern spring was announcing its approach, as usual, 
 with wind and rain. But now it is here in all its beauty, and 
 I enjoy it as much as possible in the open air. 
 
 " Before our first breakfast, which is really the only time 
 I have entirely at my own disposal, I walk or ride ; after it 
 I always ride with my grandfather ; and when, as is fre- 
 quently the case, Aunt Thekla and Magelone either pay 
 visits or receive them, I sit with the old Herr in the balcony 
 of his study, which projects directly into the tops of the 
 lindens. We follow your wanderings on the map, or I read 
 aloud to him in some book of travels, which brings us near 
 you in spirit. But late in the evening, when we have all said 
 ' good-night' to one another, I slip out once more into the 
 park, to listen to the rustle of the trees and to the ' songstress 
 
 139
 
 140 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 of the night,' the nightingale, trilling among the shrubbery on 
 the shores of the little lake. 
 
 " You see, grandpapa and the spring are almost my only 
 society, and it is very pleasant. After Johann Leopold left 
 u?, by grandpapa's desire I made several visits among the 
 neighbours. They received me courteously, returned my visit, 
 and invited me again, but perhaps it is my own fault I do 
 cot feel quite comfortable among them. Grandpapa's dicta- 
 torial, almost menacing tone in which he introduced me as 
 *my grand-daughter Johanna' seems to ring in my ears, and 
 I ask myself how I should have been received if I had pre- 
 sented myself without this ' open sesame,' only bearing my 
 father's name, of which I am so proud. I may possibly be 
 doing some of these people injustice, but not all of them. 
 At any rate, my mistrust of them serves to alienate me from 
 them mentally, and therefore it is best to mingle with them 
 as little as possible. I do not know whether grandpapa is 
 aware of this feeling on my part, but, at all events, he lets me 
 do as I please. 
 
 "May 18. 
 
 " According to Aunt Thekla, society about here is unusu- 
 ally gay this year. A Herr von Rothkirch is visiting at 
 Klausenburg, who enlivens young and old ; and one day there 
 is a picnic, and the next a bal champetre, and the next an ex- 
 cursion to some point of interest in the neighbourhood. Mage- 
 lone is in her element, she dresses and flirts, and has a 
 ' divine time.' Aunt Thekla shakes her head sometimes, but 
 grandpapa says, ' Let her do as she chooses, we are not all 
 alike. I cannot take it ill of the little thing that she does not 
 mope and sigh like a girl forsaken of her lover ; and if she 
 finds Db'uninghausen dull without Johann Leopold, it is well 
 that she cac find amusement elsewhere.' How grandpapa can 
 believe that Magelone loves Johann Leopold is more than 1 
 can comprehend. She herself tells every one who will listen
 
 JOHANNA TO LUDWIQ. 141 
 
 that she is only contracting a mariage de raison. At times I 
 have felt sure that she loves another ; or is she right when 
 she maintains that she cannot love ? 
 
 "And, after all, what is love? Is it a spell to which we 
 accidentally succumb, or does it result from certain require- 
 ments of our being which bestow us helplessly upon another ? 
 How, for example, was it possible for Christine to fall in love 
 with Red Jakob ? He is almost repulsive to me, but she ia 
 in bliss. 
 
 " They married in April, and went to live at the Forest 
 Hermitage. Of course grandpapa had to know : I chose my 
 time, and told him the story as pathetically as I could. Jo- 
 hann Leopold was right, I did not succeed in softening his 
 heart. ' A fine reformation, truly,' he said, ' with the fellow 
 tied fast by the arm. Johann Leopold can, of course, employ 
 whomsoever he pleases, but I'll have nothing to do with the 
 rascal, and so long as my eyes are open he must not show 
 himself on Donninghausen land ; on that condition I'll not 
 interfere with him.' 
 
 " So on one of our first fine mornings I rode up to the 
 Forest Hermitage alone. The bridle-path winds up the Klett- 
 berg through a magnificent hemlock forest, and then along 
 the summit for some distance. The light comes brighter and 
 brighter through the trunks, glimpses are caught here and 
 there of distant views, bathed in a magic blue mist, which van- 
 ish the next moment. Then the path turns about a rock, and 
 with a long breath you find yourself on a plateau that emerges 
 from the forest like an island in the ocean. Around you, 
 below you, far as the eye can reach, lie the wooded peaks, 
 gleaming in the golden morning light, while far and near yawn 
 a myriad dark chasms, tempting to the eye and to the imagi- 
 nation. 
 
 " Christine's joyful welcome roused me from my rapt delight 
 in gazing. When I turned towards her I saw the Forest Her-
 
 142 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 mitage, the Observatory, as Johann Leopold called it, a 
 two-storied pavilion, with a high, pointed roof. Red Jakob was 
 just coming out of his door. Even without his lame arm, I 
 should have recognized him by his thick tawny curls, although 
 his rather low stature and delicate frame were a disappointment 
 to me. After all that I had heard of him, I had expected a 
 giant. As he approached me and uttered a few words of 
 gratitude, I had a disagreeable sensation ; there was something 
 iu his eyes reminding me of a beast of prey lurking for a vic- 
 tim, did you notice this ? and when he laughed and showed 
 his dazzlingly white, pointed teeth, I was almost afraid of him. 
 
 " This impression was strengthened by the bitterness which 
 fairly saturates his rude humour. Christine, fortunately, takes 
 it all in jest, and only laughs. When, after I had admired 
 every nook and corner of her small domain, she conducted me 
 to her sitting-room, and with fresh exclamations of delight 
 made me sit down upon a hard old leathern sofa, her husband 
 said, with a scornful laugh, ' Don't make so much of your belong- 
 ings, or the gracious Fruleen will think you took such a miser- 
 able cripple as myself only for the sake of what you got with him.' 
 
 " She looked at her red-haired monster with a blissful smile. 
 ' There now, Fraulein, he is always joking like that,' she made 
 reply. ' Because he thinks I might grieve for coming to him, 
 poor as I was, he makes believe that he cares nothing for all 
 that we have ; but he really likes it as well as I do.' 
 
 " With these words she left the room, and I heard her bus- 
 tling about in the kitchen. Red Jakob took a seat opposite 
 me. ' Yes. yes, it is a great thing to set up as superintendent,' 
 he said, and laughed so that all his pointed teeth showed be- 
 tween his red lips. ' And if I now and then lay hold on a fel- 
 low using his shooting-iron where he ought not, I can show 
 myself as honest as an old thief turned detective.' 
 
 " ' You should not say such bitter things,' I said to him. 
 ' My cousin, Johann Leopold, likes you, and you know it."
 
 JOHANNA TO LUDWIG, 143 
 
 " He shook his head. ' No, gracious Fruleen ! they don't 
 l\ke a fellow like me. They keep him, and the Squire always 
 did that, but why ? Because he is the master, and I am 
 like his horse or dog ; he will feed it while it can walk, no 
 longer. Do not contradict me ; I know it all from experience. 
 So long as the Squire and I were playmates, the old Herr waa 
 well pleased that I knew more about hunting than even the 
 gamekeeper himself, and that nothing that could run or 
 fly escaped my rifle. ' You must get Jakob to teach you. 
 You must do as Jakob does,' was the cry; so that at last 
 I really thought I was a fine fellow and could not go astray. 
 Not exactly that, I thank you ! When the Squire cared no 
 longer for trapping game and shooting birds, there was no 
 place for me ; and all that I had been praised for I was obliged 
 to do in secret, as though it were a sin. It might be, but 
 I don't think it ! No, I don't think it. Why did I have 
 
 keen sight and a sure hand Ah, indeed, I have the last 
 
 no longer 1' 
 
 " He arose and looked out of the window, that I might not 
 see his face. 
 
 " ' You ought to have been gamekeeper,' I said. 
 
 " ' True, and the Squire meant I should be, and the old 
 Herr wanted it, and I tried it ; but I can't write well enough 
 for the head place, and I cannot submit to be ordered about 
 by the gamekeeper, and the gamekeeper's wife and assistants. 
 I preferred to earn my bread as a woodcutter, and nothing 
 went wrong until the accident.' 
 
 " Christine here made her appearance with coffee, and gave 
 another turn to the conversation ; but as I was going Red Ja- 
 kob said, ' Gracious Fruleen, I have observed that you think 
 me an Ungrateful man. I am not that. I never in my life 
 forgot a benefit that came from a kind heart without pride 
 or arrogance. I never shall cease to be grateful for what you 
 did for Christine ; and if you ever need me, I'll go through
 
 144 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 fire and water to serve you.' And his cruel eyes flashed so 
 that I was frightened. God save me from such a helper ! 
 
 " I am sorry the man is so antipathetic to me, for Chris- 
 tine's sake. Her devotion to me is really a pleasure, and I 
 take great delight in seeing the fresh young creature busy 
 about her little house. I have been two or three times since 
 to visit her, and Jakob was always ' away in the grounds,' as 
 Christine says proudly. The rough fellow really seems to 
 have a sincere love of nature. He has discovered a charming 
 lookout about a hundred steps from the Hermitage, and has 
 cleared away all branches and bushes that could obstruct the 
 view, and made a grassy mound there upon which I could lie 
 and dream for hours. Christine regretted that Jakob was not 
 at home to do the honours of the surrounding landscape ; 
 but what do I care to know how the mountain-peaks, piled 
 up in all directions, are named ; or whither leads the road 
 that winds over this or that eminence; or the name of the 
 factory smoking in the forest depths ? The unknown dis- 
 tance allures and occupies my thoughts. I never weary of 
 asking, Do you hold concealed aught for me? while I gaze 
 with indifference across the familiar valley at nay feet. 
 Nestling against the rocks on the summit of which I sit Hea 
 Klausenburg, with its towers and turrets. ' The same foolish 
 old Johanna !' I hear you say. Dear Ludwig, it is easy for 
 you men, roaming abroad in the world whither you will, to 
 exalt the virtues of content and domesticity. Permit us, 
 who must sit quietly at home, to indulge in what dreams we 
 will. 
 
 "And this reminds me of my step-mother, who has not yet 
 found an abiding-place. A little while ago I had a letter 
 from her, the first since I left her. She has been unable to 
 procure an engagement a failure which she ascribes to the 
 machinations of her rivals, who would, if they could, prevent 
 her from any advantageous employment of her talents j and
 
 JOHANNA TO LVD WIG. 145 
 
 she assures me that were it not for the assistance of a friend, 
 whose name she does not mention, she must long since have 
 succumbed to their persecutions. She writes that my little 
 sister grows prettier and more like herself every day ; that 
 the child has also inherited her talent, and has lately ap- 
 peared with great success in a juvenile ballet. Strange to 
 say, although I myself always desired nothing more eagerly 
 than a career upon the stage, and although the majority 
 of great actresses have made their delfit very early, I can- 
 not endure the thought of my little Lisbeth making her 
 appearance now before the publie, and I vainly try to answer 
 the question as to what would have been my father's wish 
 in the matter. But why write this to you, who despise 
 and contemn the actor's profession ? It comes from my old 
 habit of talking to you of everything that is occupying my 
 mind. Kind and really paternal as my grandfather is, I 
 could not speak of this to him. I did not even venture to 
 tell him that I had received the letter, and Aunt Thekla, 
 with all her sympathy for me, would be helpless here. 
 
 " As usual, my letter has grown to a volume. When will 
 it reach you? When will you read it? Answer me soon, 
 and tell me of your grand, great world, as I do you of my 
 circumscribed existence. Wherever you go I follow you in 
 heart and thoughts." 
 
 ********* 
 
 Early in June there came surprising news from Waldemar. 
 lie had obtained a position in the suite of the ambassador to 
 St. Petersburg, wished to take his bride thither, and had per- 
 suaded her parents to consent to a hasty marriage. Now he 
 wrote to invite his family to be present at it on the 15th 
 of the month. An old-fashioned celebration, after his grand- 
 father's taste, was out of the question, since the Walburga 
 were in deep mourning for the death of an uncle. 
 
 The Freiherr, as the head of the family, felt that his 
 Q k 13
 
 146 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 presence, even at this quiet marriage, could not be dispensed 
 with. Aunt Thekla, on the contrary, shrank from taking so 
 long a journey. " It is seventeen years since I have been 
 more than a few miles away from the Donninghausen u> 
 main," she said. "The thought of meeting all those strangers 
 frightens me. I think I could scarcely make a respectable 
 curtsey to them. Please, dear Johann, let me stay at home." 
 And the Freiherr, after he had laughed at her and tried to 
 persuade her, acceded to her wishes. 
 
 He was all the more inexorable towards Magelone. She 
 longed to accompany him to Vienna. In imagination she 
 revelled in delicious toilettes, saw herself with crowds of 
 admirers, completing conquest after conquest, and returning 
 laden with who could tell what spoils of victory, when her 
 grandfather's ! no' cut short all her dreams and aspirations. 
 
 " If you were free as you appear to be, or bound outwardly 
 as you are in spirit, I should not object," he said ; " but, as 
 you are, misunderstandings might arise that had better be 
 avoided. And I think, too, that you ought to remain here, 
 out of regard for Johann Leopold." 
 
 Magelone knew that when her grandfather spoke thus he 
 was not to be contradicted ; but she was vexed enough at 
 having placed herself in an ambiguous position, and when 
 she went to bed she cried herself to sleep, like a child who 
 has lost its Christmas-gift by its own fault. 
 
 On the same evening Aunt Thekla, when she was alone 
 with hei orother, ventured timidly to propose that he should 
 take Johanna to Vienna with him. 
 
 " I have already thought of it," he replied. " I should 
 like to give the child a pleasure, and, moreover, she is the 
 truest Donninghausen of them all, she would have done me 
 credit. But to introduce her by that name which she clings 
 to so nonsensically I cannot bring myself to do it." 
 
 Thus it was that the Freiherr started on his journey accom-
 
 JOHANNA TO LUDWIf*. 147 
 
 pawied only by old Christian. Aunt Thekla's preparations 
 for it were sufficient for a voyage around the world. Now 
 and then she reproached herself for saving herself all the in- 
 conveniences and fatigue of travel while thus sending her old 
 brother into the world alone ; but he would not listen to her. 
 
 " Don't behave as if I were too infirm to bear a railway 
 journey," he said at last, rather impatiently. " Our Emperor 
 is just my age, and he travels from one end of his kingdom to 
 the other." 
 
 This example silenced the old lady's anxiety and hel; ed her 
 to undergo her brother's departure with dignity. x>ut when, 
 having accompanied him as far as Thalrode, she returned 
 without him, and reflected that each flying minute bore him 
 farther and farther from her, and that days and perhaps even 
 weeks must pass before she should hear his step or see his 
 dear handsome face again, it was all over with her, and she 
 atoned by floods of tears for her previous fortitude. 
 
 " Dear aunt, do not cry any more," Magelone said to her 
 in the course of the afternoon. " You behave as if grand- 
 papa were going to his own funeral. Come, let us drive out, 
 to Klausenburg, to Remmingen, wherever you will, it will 
 divert your mind." 
 
 " I don't wish to have it diverted," sighed Aunt Thekla. 
 " To think of my dear good Johann, or to do something for 
 him, is the only consolation I can have. Come, Johanna, let 
 us dust the archive-room thoroughly. You know grandpapa 
 cannot endure to have a servant enter it." 
 
 Johanna declared her willingness for the task. Magelone 
 took up her embroidery with a yawn ; really this eternal 
 stitching in all the heat was insufferable ! 
 
 She seated herself at the piano and began a nocturne of 
 Chopin's ; but the idea of playing when there was no admiring 
 audience ! Her hands dropped wearily upon the keys, which 
 sent forth an echoing chord, and the elfish eyes were veiled.
 
 148 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 " Oh, to have to stay here when they are so happy in Vienna P 
 sighed Magelone. " And all for the sake of Johanu Leopold, 
 who cares as little for me as I do for him ! And, of all places, 
 in this horrid Donninghausen, where there never is the 
 slightest diversion !" 
 
 Her thoughts were interrupted by a slight noise ' r the door 
 was cautiously opened, and a tall figure appeared on the 
 threshold. " Otto 1" she exclaimed. And the next moment he 
 clasped her in his arms and kissed her. 
 
 " But, Otto," she said, reproachfully, as she extricated her- 
 self from his embrace, " what is the matter with you ? what 
 brings you here ? It must be something very extraordinary," 
 she added, startled by the dark fire in his eyes and the strange 
 rigid look about his mouth. 
 
 He laughed bitterly. " You would ridicule me if I told 
 you that a desire for a reconciliation with you brought me 
 hither, and more still when you hear that I have other reasons 
 to give other people. But all the same it is a fact that the 
 breach between us grows more intolerable to me every day." 
 
 " Why did you not write ?" asked Magelone. 
 
 " Because you made Johanna your go-between. She wrote 
 me so cold and stiff" a note. The wind at Donninghausen 
 (seems to blow from a quarter strangely unfavourable to me." 
 
 Magelone knew only too well what had influenced the tone 
 of Johanna's letter ; she blushed slightly and turned away her 
 eyes, but before she could reply Aunt Thekla and Johanna 
 entered the room. 
 
 " You came to escort your grandfather?" the old lady said, 
 after salutations had been exchanged. '.' Unfortunately, he 
 left this morning." 
 
 "So they told me in Thalrode," the young man replied. 
 " But I am not going to Vienna. I have come to you, dear 
 Aunt Thekla. You must help me. Come, sit down, and let 
 me make my confession. Please stay ; you must hear it too,"
 
 JOHANNA TO LUDWIG. 149 
 
 he added, as Johanna and Magelone were about to leave the 
 room. 
 
 Aunt Thekla sat up stiffly. " Confession ?" she repeated, 
 
 in a troubled tone. " Otto, you have not been " she 
 
 hesitated. 
 
 " Playing again ?" He completed her sentence, as he took 
 a chair opposite her. " Yes, dear aunt; unfortunately, I have 
 broken my promise and played, and have lost. Do not re- 
 proach me, I entreat ; I do that myself. Rather let us consult 
 how I can be extricated from my embarrassments ; nay, even 
 more than that, how I can be relieved in my extremity." 
 
 " Otto, how could you ?" Magelone exclaimed, reproach- 
 fully. Aunt Thekla stared at him in dismay, and Johanna 
 was mute with terror. 
 
 Otto shrugged his shoulders. " It is easy to ask and to 
 condemn. Try being mewed up in a wretched garrison, where 
 you have lost interest in what amuses others, because you 
 have learned to wish for something better and higher. Find 
 yourself disappointed in your wish," here both Johanna and 
 Magelone were convicted by his reproachful glance, " and 
 then in your desolation and distress see others enjoying the 
 intoxicating, all-engrossing delights of play. I wonder whether 
 your lofty virtue would hold out?" 
 
 Aunt Thekla was weeping. " Poor boy !" she whispered 
 to herself. Johanna's heart beat fast. Magelone smiled, half 
 in scorn, half flattered. After a pause Otto went on, turning 
 to Aunt Thekla : " Gambling debts must, as you know, be 
 paid within four-and-twenty hours. I had nothing, and only 
 knew of one way out of the difficulty ; that is, I gave a note. 
 
 If it is not paid in a week " He broke off and looked 
 
 gloomily on the ground ; then added, " When the invitation 
 to Vienna came, I instantly concluded that grandpapa would 
 accept it, and I determined in his absence to apply to you, 
 dear aunt. You will not leave rue in the lurch." 
 
 13*
 
 150 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 The old lady sighed. " Certainly not, if my few hundreds 
 can help you " 
 
 " I need nearly three thousand thalers," Otto interrupted 
 her. 
 
 " Three thousand !" cried Aunt Thekla. " Wretched boy ! 
 Never in my life have I had so much at once." 
 
 " The bailiff would give you the money at any time," said 
 the young man ; " and if grandpapa were angry at first " 
 
 " Otto, what are you thinking of?" his aunt interposed, 
 hastily. " It would be actual robbery ! I will not listen to 
 such a thing. Moreover, the bailiff never would do it." 
 
 Otto changed colour. " Then there is nothing for it but 
 to send a bullet through my brains," he said in an undertone, 
 as if to himself. 
 
 Aunt Thekla again burst into tears. " If I could only 
 help you !" she said. " But if I stake everything that I have, 
 
 my money, my few trinkets, my laces " Suddenly a 
 
 thought occurred to her. " Magelone, you can help !" she 
 cried. " Your beautiful pearl necklace, Lobel Wolf will 
 certainly advance you the needed sum upon it, and when Jo- 
 hann Leopold comes back he will redeem it." 
 
 For a moment Magelone was speechless with terror. Her 
 pearl necklace, the only thing she had been able to save from 
 the wreck of her fortune, must it, too, go ? She could not let 
 it if she would, for had she not vowed, when money, plate, 
 trinkets, everything, in short, had been swallowed up in paying 
 poor Willfried's debts, never, never again, even for the dearest 
 b'eing on earth, to offer up such a sacrifice ? But of course 
 she could not explain this now, when Otto, Aunt Thekla, and 
 Johanna were all looking at her so expectantly. A happy 
 thought came to her aid. " Gladly gladly would I give it 
 up," she stammered, and the tone of her voice, the tears in 
 her eyes, must convince her hearers how sincere was her regret 
 that she could not do so, " if I only had the necklace j but
 
 JOHANNA TO LUDWIG. 151 
 
 I was anxious about its safety, and I gave it to grandpapa, 
 who locked it in his safe." 
 
 " But how would my Christmas-gift do ?" cried Johanna. 
 " If it is worth so much " 
 
 " Oh, child, how could I forget it ?" Aunt Thekla inter- 
 rupted her. " Of course it can help us. But you have no 
 Johann Leopold who will redeem it," she added, less hope- 
 fully. And Otto rising, said, "No, thank you, Johanua; I 
 cannot accept such a sacrifice from you." 
 
 Johanna, too, rose. " You must!" she cried, and her eyes 
 sparkled. " Tell him, Aunt Thekla, that he must. If I am 
 not a near enough relative to help him, he must reflect that it 
 is the right of all of us to help to avert a family misfor- 
 tune " She paused, and hurried from the room. 
 
 " How good she is !" said Aunt Thekla. 
 
 " More than good, magnanimous !" murmured Otto, who 
 was pacing the room with Folded arms, and Magelone once 
 more marvelled at 'this girl's extraordinary luck; every- 
 thing redounded to her honour and glory.'
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 AN UNEXPECTED RETURN. 
 
 JOHANNA brought the parure to her aunt. '' He will not 
 refuse to accept aid from you," she said. Then they sat at 
 table conversing upon indifferent subjects, and the same talk 
 went on in the drawing-room while they were drinking coffee. 
 When at last Magelone sat down at the piano, and Aunt 
 Thekla, wearied with the exertions of the day, dropped 
 asleep in the corner of her sofa, Johanna slipped out into 
 the park. 
 
 Her heart was heavy. Otto's words, ' I cannot accept 
 such a sacrifice from you,' had wounded her, in proving to 
 her that she was not as near to him as she had thought. " I 
 wish grandpapa were at home again ; he is the only one who 
 really cares for me," she said to herself. And, as she leaned 
 against the wall of the park at the end of the linden avenue 
 and listlessly plucked some monthly roses from the marble 
 vase beside her, she thought that the tears that filled her yes 
 were shed for her grandfather's absence. 
 
 A quick, firm step upon the gravel startled her from her 
 revery. She hastily wiped her eyes, but did not look around 
 until Otto's voice said close beside her, " Forgive me, dear 
 Johanna. I hear, it is true, that you do not like to be 
 interrupted in your evening strolls ; nevertheless you must 
 allow me to thank you before I leave here again to-morrow 
 morn ng." 
 
 " Are you going so soon?" she asked in faltering tones. 
 152
 
 AN UNEXPECTED RETURN. 15^ 
 
 " "Would you like to have me stay?" he replied. "Do 
 not be conventional, Johanna ; I want to know your real feel- 
 ing." 
 
 " We should all be glad to keep you here," she said. 
 
 He looked at her sadly, and rejoined, in a melancholy tone, 
 " I asked how you felt ; I care little about the others. But 
 you, what fault do you find with me, Johanna? I ought 
 not, indeed, to ask such a question to-day. You all blame me, 
 and you are apparently right in doing so. But before I 
 mean when you wrote me that letter we parted more than 
 friends ; and then came that cold, stiff note !" 
 
 " It was not meant to be so; I meant it should be kind," she 
 replied, without looking up at him. 
 
 " So much the worse !" he cried. " You meant to and could 
 not. But I have no right to reproach you when you have 
 just done me so friendly a service." 
 
 " Which you did not wish to accept from me," she answered 
 him, reproachfully. 
 
 " Johanna, I trust you understand why it was so much 
 harder for me to accept this kind of help from you than from 
 the others ?" 
 
 " Because you do not know me so well ; I am not so near 
 to you," she said. 
 
 " You do not, you cannot believe that," he hastily inter- 
 posed. " To me you seem far nearer to me, and therefore it 
 humiliates me all the more to " 
 
 "Where are you?" Magelone's voice called from a side-path 
 at this moment. 
 
 " Here !" called Johanna, who hardly knew whether to be 
 glad or sorry for the interruption. 
 
 " Oh, dear ! I had so much to say," whispered Otto, as he 
 took Johanna's hand and pressed it to his lips. " One word 
 more while we are alone, would you like to have me stay 
 here a few days?"
 
 154 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 " Most certainly. Did I not tell you so ?" Johanna replied^ 
 vainly endeavouring to withdraw her hand from his. 
 
 " And your letter was not the expression of your displeas- 
 ure with me?" he went on, still in a whisper, as he leaned 
 towards her ; but, before she could answer, Magelone's light 
 gown appeared from among the trees. 
 
 " Beg pardon if I intrude," she said, in a tone which waa 
 meant to be teasing, but which only succeeded in sounding 
 cross. 
 
 " Not at all," Otto replied, divining her jealous emotion. 
 " Come take part in our consultation ; we were discussing the 
 question of my either remaining here for a few days or re- 
 turning directly to my garrison." 
 
 Magelone joined them. " Return directly ? 'Nonsense!' as 
 grandpapa would say, and as I say too. It is your duty, my 
 noble knight, to stay here and entertain us and coax Aunt 
 Thekla out of her melancholy mood. Not in vain have you 
 called me your sovereign. I command, you obey. Come now 
 to Aunt Thekla on the veranda ; it is intolerably sultry here 
 under the trees." 
 
 So saying, she put her hand within Otto's arm and drew 
 him away. 
 
 " Are you coming, Johanna ?" he said, holding out his hand 
 to her. 
 
 " In a moment ; I only want to pluck a few roses," she 
 made reply. But she stood motionless for a while, looking after 
 the pair as they vanished in the dim depths of the linden 
 avenue. Yes, she was leading him away, his sovereign, who, 
 as he had confessed on that January evening, had ruled him 
 by coquetry, and who would still so rule him, for the love which 
 he had summoned to his rescue did not appear to have dis- 
 covered the magic word that could break the spell. Or was it 
 that he himself had not meant to summon it? What would 
 he have said had Magelone not made her appearance ? Idle
 
 AN UNEXPECTED RETURN. 155 
 
 questions upon which it were folly to ponder. Johanna walked 
 towards the castle. Magelone was right ; it was intolerably 
 sultry beneath these trees, the air was heavy with the fragrance 
 of the lindens. She wished she could have Elinor saddled 
 and gallop off through the dewy meadows in the valley, or 
 along the edge of the forest, but she dreaded Aunt Thekla'a 
 amazement, Magelone's ridicule, and Otto's companionship, so 
 she gave up the idea. 
 
 The next morning early Otto took the jewels to town to 
 procure a loan of Lobel Wolf, but returned in high displeas- 
 ure by the next train. The old broker and curiosity-dealer 
 would not loan money on the jewels unless with the permis- 
 sion of the Freiherr or his sister. When the young man had 
 asked him angrily whether his own name were not enough to 
 give as security, Lobel Wolf had declared that he wanted no 
 security, he was but acting in accordance with his rule as a 
 business-man. All that he would consent to do was to give 
 Otto a written acknowledgment to be signed by Fraulein 
 Thekla. At first the old lady looked grave, and made objec- 
 tions, since the jewels were not hers but Johanna's, but when 
 the latter entreated her not to complicate matters by refusing 
 to sign the paper, she complied, and Otto went back to town 
 by the noon train. 
 
 There was no further difficulty. Otto received the neces- 
 sary sum with his ticket of deposit, and returned to Donning- 
 hausen, in spite of a tremendous thunder-storm, light of heart, 
 and in entire unconsciousness that a far more terrible tempest 
 was gathering above his head. 
 
 Lobel Wolf, so soon as the young man left him, betook him- 
 self to the examination of the parure. In his little office be- 
 hind his shop, stuffed from floor to ceiling with all sorts of 
 curiosities, he sat at his desk, and held the jewels beneath the 
 light of the gas-jet perpetually burning there. They were 
 clumsily set, but he was enough of a connoisseur to see plainly
 
 156 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 what they would be if set by an artist, and the wish waa 
 aroused in the soul of the old man, whose hobby was precious 
 stones, to become the possessor of these. 
 
 But would the Freiherr sell them ? The Db'nninghausens 
 were among the richest of the neighbouring nobility. Lbbel 
 Wolf wagged his gray head : a period of embarrassment 
 might come for even the wealthiest, and it seemed more and 
 more probable to Lbbel Wolf that it had come for the Db'n- 
 ninghausens. One of the Freiherr 's grandsons was making an 
 expensive tour, another was marrying more rank than money 
 and the third was involved iu debt and dissipation. Resolving 
 to propose to the Freiherr the purchase of the parure so soou 
 as he should return from Vienna, Lbbel Wolf locked up the 
 seductive stones in his safe. 
 
 But the spell of their sparkle, under which he had fallen, 
 left him no rest, and even before Otto had reached Dbnning- 
 hausen Lbbel Wolf had decided to write to the Freiherr in 
 Vienna. 
 
 For Otto, life and the world had taken on a new aspect 
 since he had received the money which was to be his salvation. 
 Aunt Thekla, when she handed him the jewels, had obtained 
 from him a promise that he would confess the whole affair to 
 his grandfather as soon as he possibly could. 
 
 " It will be an evil hour for us," she said, " but it would be 
 worse still if my brother should discover the absence of the 
 jewels before we had made our confession. If your plan of 
 procuring the money from the bailiff had been practicable, you 
 would have had to speak with your grandfather without 
 delay." 
 
 Otto had assented, and had promised to await at Dbnning- 
 hausen his grandfather's return, but as he rode back he 
 changed his mind. He reflected that it would be cruel to 
 trouble his grandfather with anything so disagreeable imme- 
 diately upon his return home, and that it would be far easier
 
 AN UNEXPECTED RETURN. 157 
 
 for the old Herr, as well as for all concerned, if Aunt Thekla 
 or Johanna would select some favourable moment for the con- 
 fession and tell him all, and that it would be very desirable 
 for the chief culprit to avoid the first outbreak of displeasure. 
 He therefore determined to take his departure at an early 
 date ; it would not be impossible to convince Aunt Thekla 
 of the advisability of this. Thus everything was arranged 
 delightfully, and he could enjoy himself to the full during 
 the rest of his stay t Donninghausen. 
 
 The thunder-shower changed to a steady rain, which made 
 walks or rides in the open air impossible for a time. 
 
 " 'Tis a pity ; we were just going to have such u pleasant 
 day in the woods, instead of which we must drive to Klau- 
 senburg," Magelone said, the first morning. " For Otto's sake," 
 she added in an undertone ; and Aunt Thekla, who would 
 rather have stayed at home, consented to go, since ' the poor 
 boy must have some amusement. 1 
 
 The one visit brought on others. At Klausenburg they 
 received an invitation to Remmingen ; at Remmingen a break- 
 fast was arranged at Grunroda ; on the fourth day there was 
 the celebration of the Countess Elfrida's birthday at Klausen- 
 burg, and on the fifth all were to assemble at Donninghauseu 
 for a dance. 
 
 " To celebrate Waldemar's marriage. I assure you grand- 
 papa would be delighted," said Magelone, when Aunt Thekla 
 looked rather dubious, and again the old lady gave way. 
 
 The Freiherr had written only once, on the day after his 
 arrival in Vienna. The journey had been made very com- 
 fortably, he was very well, aiid expressed himself pleased with 
 Waldemar's betrothed as well as with the entire Walburg 
 family. The time of his return was undecided. The young 
 couple were to leave for St. Petersburg immediately alter the 
 marriage, but he might pass a few days with his new connec- 
 tions, and would announce the day of his return in his next. 
 
 14
 
 158 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 Until this letter arrived, then, Otto decided to remain in 
 Donninghausen, and Magelone to amuse herself as much as 
 possible. So upon the evening of the 18th of June the castle 
 windows shone brilliantly through the rain, a merry party 
 assembled in the rooms, which were decked with flowers, and 
 the dancing soon began to the sound of the piano played by 
 the village school-master. Magelone, in airy, floating white, 
 with white roses in her gold-gleaming curls, was, as Otto never 
 wearied of whispering to her, the queen of the evening ; and 
 even Arnt Thekla, who had felt strangely depressed all day long, 
 was aroused from her melancholy as she watched the pretty 
 creature, with her rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes, flying 
 through the ball-room. 
 
 Otto, too, was, or seemed to be, the gayest of the gay this 
 evening. Aunt Thekla could not tell whether to blame or to 
 admire him. Once as he passed Johanna, who, being still io 
 mourning, did not dance, he said, " I would rather have one 
 quiet hour with you than all this bustle ;" but was this more 
 than a cousinly expression ? and which was his true self, the 
 laughing, careless creature which he seemed usually, or the 
 grave, quiet man who talked so seriously to her when they 
 were alone together? He was just passing now with the 
 Countess Elfrida. He must have been especially charming, for 
 she tapped him upon the arm with her fan, after her own 
 hail-fellow-well-met style, and laughed so loudly that the hall 
 re-echoed. 
 
 The sight was distasteful to Johanna ; she withdrew to the 
 nearest window-recess, leaned her burning forehead against the 
 pane, and looked out into the dripping rain. A carriage drove 
 into the court-yard ; had not the guests all arrived yet ? She 
 recognized the Thalrode hack, and when the servant, wrapped 
 in a water-proof, who was sitting beside the driver, looked up, 
 she thought she recognized him, and her heart seemed to stand 
 still.
 
 AN UNEXPECTED RETURN. 159 
 
 " It is not possible," she thought. At that instant Leo 
 rushed out of the house, barking loudly, leaped down the steps, 
 and had nearly thrown himself under the wheels of the coach. 
 The door was opened, and Johanna saw that she had not been 
 mistaken. The Freiherr, assisted by Christian, got out of it. 
 
 How she contrived to leave the ball-room she could not tell. 
 She first collected her wits when she heard her grandfather's 
 voice on the stairs, and she hurried to meet him. 
 
 " Here is Johanna," he said, coldly. At his departure he 
 had embraced her ; now he only held out his hand, which she 
 kissed, not knowing what to say. 
 
 " I come at an inconvenient time. You have a party, a 
 dance, I hear. Go, go ; don't let me interrupt it," he growled. 
 " Stop !" he added, as she was retreating timidly ; " I do not 
 wish you to proclaim my arrival with that ghastly face. It 
 shall not be said that the return of the master of the house 
 scared away the guests from Donninghausen. You may tell my 
 sister that I am here, but no one else, and I will not see even 
 Thekla until the fiddling is over ; then I wish to speak to you 
 all. All, do you hear? to Monsieur Otto especially." 
 With these words he passed on, accompanied by Leo, who 
 went on barking, whining, and wagging his tail iu a rapture 
 of welcome. 
 
 Johanna stood dismayed. From the tone in which the 
 Freiherr spoke, she saw only too clearly that he knew all. 
 The many sounds from the ball-room pained her, and when 
 she returned to it she seemed to be surrounded by the con- 
 fused images of a dream. She withdrew more persistently 
 than before into corners and window-recesses, and avoided 
 Aunt Thekla. In spite of the commission she had received, 
 she could not make up her mind to mention to her her 
 brother's return. She feared lest the old lady should be 
 unable to conceal her agitation. 
 
 Nevertheless, the intelligence was not long suppressed.
 
 160 A KOBLE NAME. 
 
 Perhaps some one of the guests had seen the Freiherr arrive, 
 or one of the servants in spite of his prohibition had men- 
 tioned it. Groups were shortly seen whispering together 
 here and there, Countess Klausenburg gave the signal for 
 departure unusually early, and half an hour afterward -the 
 last carriage drove out of the court-yard. 
 
 When Magelone and Otto, who had been taking leave of 
 the guests, came up the stairs chatting gayly, they were 
 confronted by Aunt Thekla and Johanna. 
 
 " Do you not know," the old lady asked, " that your grand- 
 father is here?" 
 
 " The deuce he is ! Then I'm off !" cried Otto. 
 
 " It would be just like you !" the Freiherr called out in 
 tones of thunder from the threshold of the drawing-room door, 
 where his tall figure appeared at this moment. " Falsehood 
 and cowardice belong together. But come in ; I wish to speak 
 with you all." With these words he stood aside and let them 
 pass him into the drawing-room, which he then entered, 
 closing the door after him. 
 
 Aunt Thekla collected herself by a mighty effort. " Dear 
 Johann 1" she stammered, " I am delighted to see you here 
 again." 
 
 " Delighted ? You look so," he growled in reply. " But 
 never mind : the present is no time for sentiment. Sit down 
 and listen to what I have to say." 
 
 The ladies obeyed. Otto stood leaning against the chim- 
 ney-piece. The Freiherr paced the room heavily to and fro. 
 After a pause he said, 
 
 " First, Thekla, let me say that it seems to me rather 
 unbecoming to give entertainments in my house while I am 
 away. No discussion, I entreat !" he added, waving his hand 
 forbiddingly. " I know it was not your idea. Magelone, silly 
 child that she is, probably arranged the nonsense. But we 
 old people are here to be a check upon the young ones. In-
 
 AN UNEXPECTED RETURN. 161 
 
 stead of which you aid and abet not Magelone alone " 
 
 He broke off, as was his custom when he dreaded his own vio- 
 lence, then took a letter from his pocket with a trembling hand 
 and threw it into his sister's lap. " There, read that," he 
 said, with difficulty commanding his voice. " Lobel Wolf offers 
 to buy the jewels you have pawned. It has come to this 
 with the Donninghausens ; you have brought it to this ! And 
 you, Johanna," his tone grew louder and sharper, " you 
 have proved to me that you do not possess a spark of filial 
 piety. Family jewels like your grandmother's bridal parure 
 are not to be thrown away for the sake of such a scoundrel." 
 
 Otto started forward. " Sir," he cried, " pray control your- 
 self. I am an officer " 
 
 " You have been an officer," the Freiherr corrected him. 
 " To-morrow morning you will hand in your resignation. 
 The man who forfeits his word as you have done can no 
 longer wear the king's uniform ; or do you dare deny that 
 you have been gambling agaiu ?" 
 
 Otto had grown pale. He seemed to wish to speak, but 
 only breathed heavily and hung his head. 
 
 Aunt Thekla felt impelled to interfere. " Dear Johann, 
 I entreat you " she began in a trembling voice. 
 
 The Freiherr interrupted her. " Hush, Thekla ; you un- 
 derstand nothing about it," he said, harshly. 
 
 But she was not to be intimidated. " What will become of 
 the poor boy ?" she asked, softly. 
 
 " You are right, the poor boy !" the Freiherr exclaimed, 
 with a scornful laugh. " It is strange that such fellows can 
 always wheedle you women. But make yourself easy, the 
 ' poor boy' will be treated better than he deserves. He is my 
 grandson, unfortunately ; is a Donninghausen, I cannot turn 
 him out into the streets. I will at least give him one more 
 trial. He shall return to agriculture, I ought to have insisted 
 apon it after the war. If he does well, I will, perhaps, give 
 I 14*
 
 162 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 him one of my estates to farm ; if not " The Freiherr 
 
 made a backward wave of his hand as a finish to his sentence, 
 and then went on pacing to and fro, while no one ventured 
 to speak. 
 
 The minutes passed : the ticking of the tall clock had a 
 weird sound in the stillness ; at last the Freiherr stood still. 
 " Let the disgraceful affair be disposed of as decently as pos- 
 sible," he said. " It must be announced that Otto leaves the 
 army of his own free choice. To-morrow morning at eight 
 the fine fellow must come to my room for further orders. As 
 for the jewels, of course they must be redeemed and restored 
 to Johanna, but they must be given to me to keep for her 
 until you have all acquired some sense." 
 
 After these words the old Herr strode angrily from the 
 room. Aunt Thekla, whose bedroom was just underneath her 
 brother's heard him pacing to and fro in it until dawn.
 
 CHAPTER XY. 
 
 A BIRTHDAY PETE. 
 
 OTTO obeyed his grandfather's commands, handed in his 
 resignation, and was shortly established as a volunteer assistant 
 in the administration of Count Klausenburg's model estates, 
 a step which naturally gave rise to the most contradictory re- 
 ports. According to some, Otto had run in debt again, and 
 the Freiherr had now ' taken him in hand ;' others stated 
 from a trustworthy source that the young man had broken 
 away from all his associations on account of an unfortunate 
 love-affair ; others, again, had heard that quarrels with his 
 comrades had caused him to leave his regiment. His fellow- 
 officers were convinced that he never would ' stick to agri- 
 culture,' but would soon return to the army ; and the youth- 
 ful fair bewailed his resignation, declaring that he was not 
 half so handsome in civilian's dress. 
 
 Elfrida Klausenburg, the shining light of the family, put 
 by all these reports and explanations with a meaning smile. 
 The dress of an heir was even more becoming than a uni- 
 form, she declared, and it seemed to her only just and fitting 
 that in view of Johann Leopold's continued ill health the 
 Freiherr should contemplate the possibility of another grand- 
 son's proving his heir, and that he should wish to educate 
 this grandson in a way to enable him to administer such 
 extensive estates with judgment and skill. 
 
 Countess Elfrida repeated this so often and so decidedly, 
 old Count Klausenburg smiled so diplomatically when he de- 
 clared that he knew really nothing of Otto's circumstances 
 
 163
 
 1G4 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 and prospects, and Otto was so continually at Dbnninghausen, 
 that all reports to his disadvantage gradually died away, and 
 he came to be looked upon more and more as the future 
 heir. It did no good for him to contradict this view of the 
 matter whenever it was brought to his knowledge. The Db'n- 
 ninghausens had always been rather reserved with regard 
 to their family arrangements, and out of consideration for 
 Johann Leopold they were of course especially inclined to se- 
 crecy in the present case. That Otto never ceased to pay this 
 consideration to his cousin, even in intercourse with his most 
 iutimate friends, spoke well for his delicacy, his prudence, 
 and his trustworthiness. It was remarkable how many ex- 
 cellent qualities, hitherto concealed in him, now came to light. 
 
 Otto knew that the many" attentions which he received 
 were paid, for the most part, to the future heir ; but he was 
 rather vain than proud, and vanity delights in the homage 
 paid to appearances. So he allowed himself to be borne along 
 in contemptuous ease upon the current of universal favour 
 without asking whither, and helped Elfrida Klausenburg to 
 build castles in the air, the rule of which she was resolved, in 
 spite of all rivals, to share with him. 
 
 The most dangerous of these rivals seemed to her to be 
 Magelone. " It is disgraceful the way she flirts with Otto 
 Dbnninghausen," the young lady said to her sisters ; " but I 
 hope he is too clever to allow himself to be caught. Any 
 one can see that it is the heir she is after." 
 
 Amelie, whose years forbade her joining in this contest, 
 replied with some asperity, " The same thing might just 
 as well be said of others who until now never seemed to 
 think much of the young man." And Heleue, who had for 
 some time played the part of a man-hater, declared, sharply, 
 that for her part she thought it doubtful whether Magelone 
 were flirting with Otto or he with her. Elfrida replied to her 
 sisters' remarks only by an indifferent shrug. She was sure
 
 A BIRTHDAY FETE. 165 
 
 that Otto had fallen a victim to her flaxen hair and blue eyes, 
 and knew from his own lips that he only rode over to Don- 
 ninghausen to please his grandfather. 
 
 It was true that these visits formed part of the programme 
 laid down by the Freiherr, but if Otto had not found them 
 agreeable he would soon have devised a way to curtail them. 
 His intercourse with his family had proved pleasant beyond 
 his anticipations. His grandfather, immediately after meals, 
 during which, it is true, he paid less attention to Otto than 
 formerly, retired to his study, where Johanna read aloud to 
 him ; and then Aunt Thekla would try, by redoubled kind- 
 ness, to indemnify the ' poor boy' for the old Herr's coldnesss, 
 and Magelone was so enchanted to have the monotony of her 
 days relieved by her cousin's visits, that her coquetry wore at 
 times the disguise of sincere affection. Even the diminution 
 of his intercourse with Johanna, caused by the Freiherr's 
 claims upon her time, was rather a relief than a disappoint- 
 ment to the young man, for, although she never had referred 
 to the help she had been so ready to give him, he could not 
 but feel a sense of obligation and embarrassment when with 
 her. Nevertheless, at times she exercised the old influence 
 upon him, and then if he could speak with her alone, which 
 was rarely the case, he would complain that they saw so 
 little of each other, accusing her of intentionally avoiding 
 him, and assuring her that only the prospect of her society 
 had induced him to comply with his grandfather's arrange- 
 ments. 
 
 " You influence me for the best ; you arouse and bring to 
 the surface all that there is in me worth anything. With 
 you I am cleverer, stronger, better than at any other time," he 
 said, and he was really sincere so long as he could gaze into 
 her eyes. But when she had left him he seemed to breathe 
 more freeiy, and Magelone's graceful folly appeared to him 
 more graceful than ever.
 
 166 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 Thus the last half of August was reached, and his birthday 
 drew near. The morning before, Aunt Thekla had summoned 
 up all her courage and reminded her brother of it. " As to- 
 morrow is Saturday, he will come to dinner as usual," she 
 added, "and I wanted to ask you, dear Johann, if you 
 would not like to have a few friends invited. No party, only 
 from eight to ten people, perhaps " 
 
 ' What for ?" the Freiherr burst out, and she lowered her 
 eyes before his, which flashed angrily. " Not, I hope, to 
 celebrate that fellow's birthday. He will be thirty years old, 
 and he conducts himself like a boy of twenty." 
 
 Aunt Thekla took courage again. " Dear Johann, there is 
 more joy over one sinner that repenteth " 
 
 " Repenteth ?" the Freiherr again interrupted her. " There's 
 no question of that here. Monsieur accommodates himself 
 to circumstances for the present, but he is ready for a fresh 
 escapade at any moment. No, Thekla, there's no occasion 
 for slaughtering the fatted calf. If you wish to bake the 
 boy a cake, I've no objection ; I'll put the customary bit of 
 money underneath it and wish him joy decently ; but no 
 further festivities, I beg." 
 
 It was impossible to transgress these orders ; and although 
 Aunt Thekla took care that the cake and its customary wreath 
 were provided, and even increased the Freiherr's ' bit of 
 money' to the extent that her resources would permit, and 
 although Magelone and Johanna presented their gifts duly, 
 Otto felt the depression which weighed upon the family gen- 
 erally, and it did not need the Freiherr's homily, in which he 
 was reminded that now he was thirty years of age and must 
 put away boyish follies, to put him thoroughly out of humour. 
 
 The crosser he felt, however, the more he resolved not to 
 show it. In defiance of the old Herr, who, he said to him- 
 self, was always doing his best to crush out all independent 
 thought and action, he persisted, undeterred by Aunt Thekla's
 
 A BIRTHDAY FETE. 167 
 
 warning glances, in provoking conversation at the dinner-table, 
 and, failing in this attempt, he proposed as soon as the meal 
 was over, in direct opposition to the custom of the family, to 
 take coffee under the three oaks in the forest, a spot dedicated 
 by all the gentry in the country round to parties of pleasure 
 in the open air. 
 
 The Freiherr, who had just reached the door of the dining- 
 hall, paused. " Well, child, you are not going to absent your- 
 self from the party ?" he said, looking over his shoulder at 
 Johanna, who was following him. " I will do without you 
 to-day." 
 
 She cast one longing glance towards the group at the win- 
 dow, and then looked into her grandfather's gloomy face. 
 " Thank you," she made reply, stepping up to his side ; " I 
 would rather stay at home with you." 
 
 The next moment the door closed behind them. Otto 
 bit his lip impatiently, Magelone laughed derisively. " Oh, 
 this Johanna !" she exclaimed, irritated by Otto's evident 
 vexation, " how clever she is ! She has added in a twinkling 
 another ray to the saintly halo around her brow." 
 
 " But, my child," Aunt Thekla interposed, reproachfully, 
 " you cannot mean Johanna is really so good, so simple, 
 so modest." 
 
 " There is just where she shows her art, my dear aunt, in 
 preventing almost every one from observing the pains she 
 takes to make herself of importance," Magelone rejoined. " A 
 simple creature like myself would have said, ' Thanks, my dear 
 Otto ; it is rather too warm for your scheme.' But she sac- 
 rifices herself for grandpapa, stays in a cool room entirely 
 for his sake." 
 
 " You are unjust," Otto said, with unusual emphasis. 
 
 " And you are partial," Magelone declared. " But wait ; 
 your eyes will be opened. At present it would be pleasant to 
 close them," she added, changing her tone, " in this intolerable
 
 168 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 heat." And, fluttering her fan diligently, she followed Aunt 
 Thekla into the drawing-room, where the old lady took her 
 accustomed seat in the corner of the sofa for a short nap, and 
 her niece seated herself near her in a rocking-chair, and 
 from beneath her drooping eyelids watched Otto, who had 
 withdrawn to the centre window in an ill humour and was 
 turning over the leaves of a periodical. 
 
 Magelone's fan fluttered faster. How strange that Otto 
 should not avail himself of this rare opportunity for an un- 
 disturbed t^te-d-tete ! Had he been really provoked by her 
 attack upon Johanna ? If this were the case, he must be duly 
 punished. A minute or two passed in impatient expectation, 
 and then, when Aunt Thekla's regular breathing betrayed her 
 unconsciousness, Magelone called, in an undertone, " Otto !" 
 He looked up, and she signed with her fan towards an otto- 
 man near her. 
 
 He obeyed, drew the ottoman close beside her, put both 
 hands upon the arm of the rocking-chair, and looked into 
 Magelone's mocking, glimmering eyes. 
 
 " Well ?" she asked, after a short pause. 
 
 " Well ?" he repeated. " I thought you had something to 
 say to me." 
 
 " Yes, all sorts of things," she replied, and leaned back her 
 head without ceasing to look at him. " First of all, I want 
 to know why you are so cross on your birthday ?" 
 
 " Cross ?" he repeated, bitterly. " Have I not cause to be 
 seriously out of humour? Thirty years old, and what am I? 
 what do I possess? Not even a prospect! But it is no 
 easy matter to put one's self in another's place. You settle 
 the affair by calling a man cross when he is sad, then shrug 
 your shoulders and let him go. Ill humour deserves neither 
 sympathy nor consolation." 
 
 Magelone's laugh sounded forced: the serious turn the con- 
 versation was taking was not at all to her mind. " Oh, we
 
 A BIRTHDAY F&TE. 169 
 
 are positive monsters," she said, mockingly. " Nevertheless, 
 it is not worth while to call black white. Honour bright, fair 
 sir ; did not your ill humour come on first when Johanna 
 refused to go to the woods with us ?" 
 
 And as she spoke the elfish eyes gleamed strangely into his 
 own. Scorn, anger, jealousy, flickered and danced in their 
 depths. He could not resist the spell they wove around him 
 to-day, and, adopting Magelone's tone, he replied, " Honour 
 bright, fair lady ; I was greatly depressed when I came here, 
 and have been so for a long time." 
 
 " Elfrida Klausenburg maintains the contrary ; the dear 
 girl is charmed with your constant cheerfulness; she raves of 
 the ' perpetual sunshine of your soul.' Oh, dear Otto, when 
 
 that grenadier in petticoats grows sentimental " She 
 
 laughed, and her eyes seconded her laughter. " Oh, oh, is 
 that the ' perpetual sunshine?' " she added, when Otto frowned 
 darkly ; " what would Elfrida say " 
 
 " For heaven's sake spare me !" Otto exclaimed, crossly. 
 " What does the Countess Klausenburg know of me ? what 
 do we care for her ?" 
 
 Again the elfish eyes glimmered strangely, but before 
 Magelone could reply the drawing-room door opened. 
 
 " The Countesses Klausenburg and Herr von Rothkirch !" 
 the servant announced. 
 
 Aunt Thekla started up from her nap, and the guests 
 made their appearance, Elfrida first, in a short white gown 
 with blue ribbons, her hair floating over her shoulders, her 
 face red with the heat, and her eyes beaming. Whilst Amelie 
 and Herr von Rothkirch paid their respects to the ladies of 
 the house, she hurried up to Otto. 
 
 " ' Blest be the day that gave thee bi-i-rth,' " she chanted, at- 
 tempting to toss a wreath upon his head ; a misfortune which 
 he averted by catching it in his hands. " Oh, you are a 
 naughty man to run away from our congratulations," she went 
 u 15
 
 170 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 on in the midst of his confused thanks; "you wanted to {ass 
 your birthday incognito, but we are not to be cheated of our 
 fete. Dear Fraulein Db'nninghausen, dearest Magelone, we are 
 here on behalf of our parents, to carry you off by force if needs 
 must. ' And art thou not willing ' " 
 
 " Elfrida !" Amelie interrupted her, reprovingly, and, turn- 
 ing to Aunt Thekla, she continued : " Papa and mamma have 
 arranged a little picnic in honour of the day, to which they 
 send you a cordial invitation. The Remmingens and the 
 Griinroda people are coming, with, of course, the usual amount 
 of pastors, doctors, and bailiffs. Papa and mamma drove on 
 before with Helene, and we are come in the cliar-d-banc to 
 take our dear guests with us." 
 
 " The rendezvous is at the three oaks," put in Herr von 
 Rothkirch, as he clapped his heels together and made a low bow. 
 
 " At the three oaks ? Oh, now I understand your little 
 game !" Magelone said in a low voice to Otto. 
 
 " You are mistaken," he whispered ; " all this is a surprise 
 
 to me " but Elfrida did not permit him to proceed. " No 
 
 whispering, no plotting," she cried. " Get your hats and gloves, 
 and come immediately." 
 
 " But my dress," said Magelone, looking down at her blue 
 muslin gown. 
 
 " Ah, rnadatne, you look charming, as you always do," Herr 
 vou Rothkirch assured her. " This blue drapery seems woven 
 by fairy hands to deck the fairy queen." 
 
 Magelone smiled graciously ; coarse as the compliment was, 
 it was better than none at all. 
 
 " Aunt Thekla, what do you say ? Shall we go ?" she asked, 
 and her tone betrayed her wish to hear a ' yes' in reply. 
 
 " My child, I do not know," the old lady answered. " To 
 celebrate a birthday outside of one's family circle, I don't 
 know what my brother would think " 
 
 " The Freiherr must come too," Elfrida interposed. " Hurry,
 
 A BIRTHDAY F&TE. 171 
 
 Magelonc ; we will go bring him. I will tell him that we 
 Klausenburgs as good as belong to the family " 
 
 " Elfrida !" Arnelie admonished her sister in a whimper, and 
 tried to detain her by her gown ; but with a twitch she extri- 
 cated herself, rather sacrifice a flounce than a whim, drew 
 Magelone away with her, and sang as she hurried to the Frei- 
 herr's room, in her thin shrill soprano, ' Give me your hand, 
 my darling.' Herr von Rothkirch expressed his belief that 
 the Freiherr could not possibly resist twin stars of such beauty 
 and wit. 
 
 But he did. He consented ' gruffly,' as Elfrida expressed 
 it, that his family should take part in the festival, and even 
 insisted that Johanna should join the rest. He himself, he 
 said, was an old man, and not fit for such merry-makings. He 
 made no allusion to the Klausenburgs' having arranged the 
 party in his grandson's honour, and intimidated the overcon- 
 fident young lady who had gone to him to such a degree 
 how, she could not herself tell that she declared to Magelone 
 that no power on earth should induce her ever again to cross 
 the threshold of her grandfather's study. " How strange it 
 is," she added, " that the most amiable of men should be the 
 grandson of that ogre !" 
 
 ' The most amiable of men' soon succeeded in dispersing 
 Elfrida's annoyance. Her customary high spirits returned 
 during the drive, and when they reached the forest her loud 
 laugh echoed in shrill discord with the peaceful woodland 
 sounds. 
 
 It was still noisier beneath the three oaks ; there was the 
 rattle of cups and plates, and the talking and laughter of the 
 various groups seated at their ease in the shade. On one side 
 the deep bass of the Forstmeister von Griinroda resounded, 
 and on the other the cackling laugh of Colonel von llemmin- 
 gen arose amid the droning monotone of Countess Klausen- 
 burg, and the commanding tones of the stout wife of the
 
 172 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 bailiff, to whom the arrangement of the feast was intrusted, 
 and who was assisted by her nephew and niece, and by the 
 Remmingen nursery, as Elfrida called the colonel's three fair 
 rosy daughters, aged respectively sixteen, seventeen, and eigh- 
 teen, while loud shouts from another group greeted the anec- 
 dotes of the jovial doctor of the village. 
 
 Then came the welcome of the new arrivals, with question 
 and reply as to the Freiherr's absence. Suddenly, at a sign 
 from Count Klausenburg, a horn sounded from the neighbour- 
 ing shrubbery, and the younger portion of the assembly has- 
 tily grouped themselves together, and sang a birthday carol to 
 the air of ' Ye shining stars above us,' with an obligato on 
 the horn. 
 
 Under the disguise of intentional exaggeration the song 
 paid to the hero of the hour every compliment which he could 
 possibly accept, and which Otto certainly seemed to accept as 
 he listened with sparkling eyes and a self-satisfied smile. 
 When the last tones had died away, and singers and audience 
 thronged around him to shake hands with him and wish him 
 joy, he expressed his pleasure in the charming surprise, and 
 declared that he never could forget this most delightful birth- 
 day fete. 
 
 " Is he speaking truth, or playing a part?" Johanna asked 
 herself. She had listened with downcast eyes in painful con- 
 fusion while she heard Otto's chanted praise for having in 
 early youth supplemented the glory of the soldier with the 
 pursuit of serious labour, for which field and grove offered 
 him their best gifts, and the grateful soil promised to bind 
 him in imperishable fetters of fairest flowers. 
 
 " A charming poem, is it not ? What a delightful talent 
 is that of the poet !" Herr von Rothkirch repeated again aurl 
 again, as he passed from group to group. 
 
 " Indescribably stupid and out of taste, actually insuffer- 
 able !" Magelone whispered to Aunt Thekla.
 
 A BIRTHDAY FETE. 173 
 
 The old lady drew her aside in terror. " Pray, pray, child, 
 take care!" she said. "Countess Klausenburg has just ccn- 
 fided to me that Elfrida composed the poem !" 
 
 " Of course ; who but she ?" Magelone pouted. " She per- 
 sonates the ' grateful soil' ; the fair Elfrida is shamelessly throw- 
 ing herself at his head. Just look 1 Just look !" 
 
 Otto was just then bowing before her ; she held out both 
 bands to him, and she looked around triumphantly as he 
 kissed them. 
 
 " He cannot but thank her," Aunt Thekla said, by way of 
 excuse. Magelone clinched her little fists in angry disgust. 
 Herr Rothkirch approached her with his unlucky question, 
 " Charming poem, is it not?" 
 
 Aunt Thekla looked anxiously at Magelone, who, how- 
 ever, had collected herself, and with a laugh, in which Herr 
 Rothkirch did not notice the mockery, she took his arm and 
 followed him to where the younger portion of the assembly 
 were engaged in earnest consultation. Otto and Elfrida came 
 towards them from the other side. 
 
 " At last !" Otto whispered to Magelone. 
 
 She shrugged her shoulders, scarce perceptibly. " Take 
 care that Elfrida does not hear you," she whispered in return ; 
 and then she turned to Herr von Rothkirch with her gayest 
 air. " Yes, with pleasure. Puss-in-the-corner is delightful," 
 she replied to his question, and in an instant she had flitted 
 to the nearest tree and clasped its trunk with a burst of 
 silvery laughter. 
 
 Elfiida seized Otto's hand. "Here, here! there are two 
 trois left," she cried, and dragged him away with her. He 
 was her property to-day, the captive of her bow and spear. 
 
 Somewhat apart in the deep shade, unnoticed and unmissed, 
 Johanna sat gazing about her with veiled eyes, and feeling 
 separated as by invisible barriers from all this merry-making. 
 
 " Am I, then, BO much older than my years ?" she asked 
 15*
 
 174 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 herself, " or is it really so long since I enjoyed my youth and 
 the summer-time in Lindeubad ? Or does my father's grave 
 Btili lie between me and life?" 
 
 She looked towards the players. Otto, who had lost his 
 tree, was looking about for another, amid the mocking shouts 
 aud laughter of those who flitted past him exchanging places. 
 Suddenly Elfrida came leaping along, more like a Valkyria 
 than ever He tried to catch her ; she sprang aside, tripped 
 and fell, and was clasped the next moment in Otto's arms. 
 Only for an instant ; in the next she extricated herself, and 
 laughed in her careless fashion, unmindful of the looks and 
 shrugs of the lookers-on, whilst Otto contemplated her with a 
 triumphant smile. 
 
 " Is it possible that all this clumsy homage can gratify 
 him ?" thought Johanna, " or has he, perhaps, found the all- 
 delivering love which he sought awhile ago from me ? El- 
 frida's light clasp of his hand before she left him certainly 
 looked like an understanding between them." 
 
 Involuntarily she arose, to flee from a sight that so pained 
 her. Otto, who was hastening to the tree that Elfrida had 
 left, saw her, and was at her side in an instant. " Where 
 are you going, Johanna?" he asked. "Come, join our 
 game " 
 
 " I cannot," she whispered, withdrew the hand he would 
 have taken, and hurried away, for Elfrida came rushing up to 
 take possession of Otto's tree, and her peals of laughter rang 
 in Johanna's ears as she slowly sauntered along the woodland 
 path. 
 
 For a moment Otto looked after her, and was conscious of 
 a sensation of annoyance ; he ought to have paid her some 
 attention before ; she had a right to expect it of him. But 
 ought she not, just because she had laid him under obligations, 
 to be doubly careful to avoid everything that could remind him 
 of these obligations? Ought she not, if she really liked him,
 
 A BIRTHDAY F&TE. 175 
 
 to take pleasure in his cheerfulness ? Instead of which she 
 adopted a tragic, sentimental air. He did not feel at all dis- 
 posed to sympathize with it at present. 
 
 With a shrug he put a stop to such reflections, and was 
 soon, apparently, entirely appropriated by Elfrida ; in fact, 
 however, not a gesture, not a look, not a laugh, of Magelone'a 
 escaped him. Her graceful coquetry asserted its charm more 
 than ever to-day with old and young, men and women alike ; 
 Otto alone seemed excluded from her magic circle. He was 
 possessed by an ardent desire to force her to pay heed to him, 
 and, finding himself alone for an instant, he hurriedly tore a 
 leaf from his note-book, scribbled a couple of lines upon 
 it, folded the paper tightly, and awaited an opportunity to 
 thrust it into Magelone's hand. The childish games that 
 were the order of the day would surely give him the occasion 
 he sought. 
 
 He waited, however, in vain. As often as he met her, 
 Magelone evaded him like a breeze or a wave. The game was 
 almost over; the voices no longer sounded so merry, the 
 movements were no longer so elastic. The summons by the 
 horn to supper beneath the three oaks was obeyed willingly 
 and without delay. 
 
 Magelone, who seemed the ncost fatigued, had taken Herr 
 von Rothkirch's arm, and was walking slowly along behind 
 the rest. Suddenly she remembered that she had left her 
 parasol where they had been playing. Rothkirch went baok 
 to look for it ; she stood still awaiting him. 
 
 In an instant Otto was beside her. 
 
 "Read it, pray," he entreated, thrusting his note into her 
 hand. 
 
 She looked round startled, frowned when she recognized 
 him, dropped his note on the ground, saying, " Don't be ri- 
 diculous 1" and hastened after the others, while Otto, mortified 
 and angry, picked up the despised note and followed her.
 
 176 A KOBLE NAME. 
 
 Beneath the oaks he found an unusual stir. The Freihen 
 von Donninghausen had appeared unexpectedly, and was 
 making his way, amid all kinds of friendly greetings, and ac- 
 companied by his inseparable escort, Leo, to where the tables 
 were spread. As Otto appeared, his grandfather, looking 
 around the circle, asked after Johanna. 
 
 No one could answer him ; she had not been seen for an 
 
 hour. Aunt Thekla had supposed that Johanna was with the 
 
 younger people ; Magelone thought she had stayed with the 
 
 ' older ones ; the rest seemed to be reminded of her for the 
 
 first time. 
 
 The Freiherr knitted his brows ; this was not the degree 
 of consideration his grand-daughter had a right to expect. 
 
 " It is a pity that she is not here," he said, his head erect, 
 and with a look that was almost a menace around the circle. 
 " I bring her a letter " 
 
 " From Dr. Werner ?" Aunt Thekla asked, interrupting 
 him. " Have you had one from Johann Leopold?" 
 
 " Yes ; he sends you his love," the Freiherr replied. " I 
 will tell you about it by and by ; at present I wish particu- 
 larly for Johanna." 
 
 " I will call her," said Elfrida ; and to the horror of her 
 mother and sister she yelled, " Johanna !" at the top of her 
 voice several times. 
 
 At the first call Leo pricked his ears, and the second had 
 uot died away before he began to bark, and plunged into the 
 thicket, whence he soon appeared, carrying his head proudly 
 and wagging his tail, followed by Johanna. 
 
 " Aha, there she is 1" said the Freiherr. " Thank you, 
 Countess ; pray don't trouble yourself any further." 
 
 As Johanna emerged from the thicket and saw her grand- 
 father and the eyes of all present surveying her with curious, 
 annoyed, and searching glances, she hesitated for a moment 
 and blushed. Quickly recovering herself, however, she ad-
 
 A BIRTHDAY FETE. 177 
 
 vanced, and begged pardon for having yielded to an old pro- 
 pensity and strayed so far into the forest that it had taken 
 her a long time to find her way back. 
 
 As she spoke, the Freiherr looked at her with angry sur- 
 prise. Although her brow was smooth and her eyes bright, 
 he fancied that she had been weeping, she whom he had 
 always found so brave. How they must have neglected and 
 insulted her ! But he would show them that disrespect of her 
 was disrespect of himself; he would not stay here a moment 
 longer. 
 
 " Here, Johanna, take your letter," he said, kindly. " Feed 
 your eyes with the sight of the sugar-plum for a while, and 
 then call Magelone; we must go home. You are ready, my 
 dear Thekla ?" 
 
 She was always ready to do his bidding, and instantly 
 began to take leave, for she knew but too well from her 
 brother's erect bearing and forced smile that the entreaties 
 and remonstrances with which he was besieged on all sides 
 would be of no avail. With a cold " Sorry to say no, 
 Countess ! No, thank you, my dear colonel," he refused all 
 invitations to supper, and to put an end to the tiresome en- 
 treaties, slowly set out for home. Count Klausenbu *g and 
 the Forstmeister walked part of the way with him. Aunt 
 Thekla, detained by loud regrets, waited for her niece. Every- 
 thing seemed so usual and commonplace, no one dreamed 
 what the consequences of the next few moments would be. 
 
 Magelone was standing, bathed in the golden light of 
 evening, in the midst of the forest meadow, talking with 
 some of her friends, when Otto, who was contemplating her 
 with ardent eyes, heard his grandfather's words. All the 
 spirit of bravado of his race stirred within him, she must 
 not and should not escape him without having heard or read 
 his request ; and, hoping in some way to force her to listen, he 
 joined Johanna.
 
 178 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 Magelone saw the pair approaching ; she guessed what were 
 Otto's intentions, and a wayward smile played about her deli- 
 cate lips. Just then Leo pushed between Johanna and Otto; 
 a wild idea occurred to the young man. 
 
 " Laugh on ; you shall heed me !" he said to himself; and 
 restraining the dog with his left hand, he took his note in his 
 right, and held it up for an instant. A flash in Magelone's eyes 
 betrayed that she had seen it, and she then saw him slip the 
 folded paper under the leather lining of Leo's brass collar. 
 Now she would be forced to take it, and once in her posses- 
 sion, Otto was quite certain she would read it. Sure of his 
 victory, he joined Amelie Klausenburg, who just then ap- 
 proached him. 
 
 But Magelone, too, was a Donninghausen, she was not to 
 be compelled. Paying no heed to Leo, she listened to Jo- 
 hanna's report of her grandfather's message. 
 
 " I should like to stay," she replied, to the entreaties of 
 her companion, " but grandpapa must not be kept waiting." 
 And bidding a hasty farewell, she accompanied Johanna, pass- 
 ing Otto with a little mocking nod. Immediately afterwards 
 Aunt Thekla joined them, and they all three followed the 
 Freiherr by a side-path, Leo running at some distance in front 
 of them. 
 
 " She will take the note when I am not in sight," thought 
 Otto, as he looked after her. 
 
 But, as he ran, a twig caught in Leo's collar. He twitched 
 his head away : something white fell on the ground ; the dog 
 picked it up in his mouth and trotted on, wagging his tail in 
 high glee at the opportunity for exhibiting his talent as a 
 messenger. 
 
 Magelone paused, fairly paralyzed by terror, and even Otto's 
 heart beat fast. 
 
 Leo went up to the Freiherr, who, engaged in conversation 
 with his companions, did not at first notice the animal. But
 
 A BIRTHDAY F&TE. 179 
 
 the dog thrust his nose into his master's hand. How clearly 
 it all stood out against the evening sky ! And finally the 
 Freiherr took the paper, probably supposing it some message 
 sent him by Leo, opened it, and put it in his pocket. Then 
 he walked on, Count Klausenburg and the Forstmeister on 
 either side of him. What would Magelone not have given 
 for a glimpse of his face ! 
 
 She could not follow him in this uncertainty. A sign 
 brought Otto to her side, and stepping into the thicket, so as 
 not to be seen if the Freiherr turned round, she asked, 
 " What did you write to me,?" 
 
 " Do not be worried," he made answer, but his tone be- 
 trayed that he was far from easy in his own mind ; " the note 
 was not addressed ; there is no name in it. I wanted to 
 speak to you. I asked for an interview " 
 
 " Of me !" she interrupted him ; " of me, Johann Leo- 
 pold's betrothed !" She clasped her hands. " Think again," 
 she continued, after a pause ; " did you really not mention my 
 name ? You must have addressed me by some title. Tell me 
 the truth." 
 
 "Some title, yes, just at the end," he said, hesitating. 
 
 " What what was it ?" she cried, quivering with impa- 
 tience. 
 
 " My only love !" he whispered, and tried to take her hand. 
 She thrust him from her. 
 
 " You called me that ?*' she exclaimed ; " me Johann 
 Leopold's betrothed ? How can 1 dare to look grandpapa in 
 the face !" Suddenly her eyes flashed like lightning. She 
 stopped up close to Otto, laid both hands on his arm, and 
 said, almost inaudibly, " There is only one way out of this. 
 You wrote that note to Johanna. If grandpapa asks, it was 
 for Johanna. You must say so, you must!" And without 
 waiting for his reply she hurried after the others.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 A BETROTHAL 
 
 THE evening passed without any mention by the Freiherr 
 of Otto's note; Johann Leopold's letter was the absorbing 
 topic. Magelone breathed more freely ; perhaps, after all, her 
 grandfather had not recognized Otto's handwriting. The 
 note was forgotten, and all danger was over. 
 
 She was mistaken. The Freiherr had seen at a glance 
 that the scrawl was from Otto, and as soon as he found him- 
 self alone in his room after supper he took the note from his 
 pocket to read it again, and decide what course to take in the 
 matter. 
 
 It was not addressed, but the Freiherr was as sure that it 
 was destined for Johanna as he was that it was written by 
 Otto. It ran thus : 
 
 " You torture me, and misunderstand me. I can bear it no 
 longer. Grant me, I conjure you, one-quarter of an hour's 
 explanation, but not with Aunt Thekla's eyes looking on ; 
 they strike me dumb. Will you await me at half past ten in 
 the birchen hut ? I will come so soon as I have escorted the 
 
 Klausenburgs back to K . Or would you rather it should 
 
 be to-morrow morning early, between five and six ? Tell me, 
 when will you hear what 1 have to say ? My only love, you 
 must hear me." 
 
 " ' Only love,' " the Freiherr repeated, and his brow clouded. 
 
 How could Johanna, with her earnest and profound nature, 
 
 have given this superficial creature the right to address her 
 
 thus ? and why had pride and gratitude not prevented her 
 
 180
 
 A BETROTHAL. 181 
 
 from bringing a new misalliance upon Donninghausen ? 
 But what was Donninghausen to her? She was the child of 
 her mother, and Agnes, proud, pure, unselfish though she was, 
 had outraged family honour, duty, and conscience when be- 
 guiled by that scoundrel's whisper of love. 
 
 The Freiherr arose and began to pace to and fro. The soft 
 breath of the summer night wafted in through the open 
 window gradually soothed him. He told himself that he 
 must hear what Johanna had to say before he condemned 
 her. It was plain from the note that she was displeased with 
 Otto. Perhaps he persecuted her, in spite of her efforts tc 
 prevent it, with an affection which she regarded as unjusti- 
 fiable and misplaced. At all events, Otto must be brought tc 
 reason, and an end put to this fresh nonsense. 
 
 Suddenly the Freiherr stood still ; his glance was attracted 
 by a letter lying beside the lamp on the table, the letter that 
 he had received to-day from Johann Leopold, and the scales 
 seemed to fall from his eyes. " No, there need be no end," 
 he murmured, continuing his walk. " If they love each 
 other it might make all things right I" 
 
 Johann Leopold's letter had increased the Freiherr's 
 anxiety with regard to his successor and heir. The strength 
 and improvement which the sick man had hoped for from his 
 travels had not yet resulted from them. 
 
 He regretted that the novelty of his daily impressions so 
 exhausted him as to leave little room for enjoyment, add- 
 ing that he had resigned all hope of ever being able to fill 
 any important position in life, and that he begged his grand- 
 father no longer to cherish any illusions with regard to him. 
 If it really should happen that Johann Leopold resigned the 
 heirship, it must devolve upon Waldemar, since Otto, the 
 next in line of precedence, had proved only too clearly that 
 he was utterly incapable of bearing the responsibility of BO 
 large an estate. But would he recognize this fact himself, 
 
 16
 
 182 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 and join with his grandfather in cutting off the entail ? End- 
 less lawsuits, family dissensions, deterioration of the property, 
 might be the result of the change ; and, moreover, the Freiherr 
 would thus lay hands upon the right of inheritance, to defend 
 which he had always held to be the sacred duty of the nobility. 
 But here, in Otto's attachment to Johanna, a way presented 
 itself out of all his perplexities. If Otto contracted a misalli- 
 ance, by so doing he voluntarily relinquished Dbnninghausen, 
 which would devolve of right to Waldemar and Waldemar'a 
 children ; Johanna would take the position in the family 
 which her grandfather desired for her, and better than all 
 if she loved Otto she was the one woman to give him firm- 
 ness and steadiness of character. The lovely legend of the 
 redeeming power of love, which has beguiled so many a 
 youthful heart, was here a siren song in the ears of an old 
 man, singing his doubts and cares to sleep. 
 
 The next morning early the Freiherr sent to Klausenburg 
 for Otto, who made his appearance without delay. 
 
 " It is terrible to be persecuted by misfortune as I am," 
 he said to himself, as he went up-stairs. " Every stupidity 
 I commit comes to the old man's ears, and he instantly falls 
 foul of me. And what have I done, after all ? I should like 
 to know whether Johann Leopold and Waldemar have not 
 had their escapades too ? But everything always goes smoothly 
 and calmly for them, while I am just like that wretched animal 
 I think it was a goat which the Phoanicians, or Assyrians, 
 or somebody, loaded with all their sins and drove into the 
 wilderness." 
 
 Thus conscious of his martyrdom, he presented himself before 
 his grandfather, who was seated at his study-table awaiting him. 
 
 After the first salutations the Freiherr requested him to 
 take a chair beside him. His face was stern, but did not 
 wear the expression of annihilating contempt which Otto had 
 seen upon it more than once.
 
 4 BETROTHAL. 183 
 
 " This note, which an odd chance has put into my hands, 
 was written by you," the old Herr began, holding out the 
 unlucky scrap of paper. " I should like to know to whom ?" 
 
 Otto looked down. Could he betray Magelone ? Impos- 
 sible ! But it was just as impossible to do as she wished and 
 mention Johanna. 
 
 " Pardon me, I cannot tell you," the young man replied. 
 
 The Freiherr knitted his brows. " In this matter your 
 discretion is the merest make-believe. The note was written 
 to Johanna, that is clear. Has she seen it?" 
 
 " On my honour, she neither has seen it nor ever would 
 have seen it " 
 
 " Prevarication forever !" the Freiherr interrupted, im- 
 patiently. " Whether she has seen it or not, you wrote it to 
 her, and I ask you what right you have to entreat her for an 
 interview and to call her what you do here?" 
 
 The Freiherr handed him the note. Otto, who remem- 
 bered its contents imperfectly, saw clearly that there was no 
 way to save Magelone except by acting upon his grandfather's 
 unconscious hint ; but the falsehood would not come glibly. 
 He looked down mute, while the Freiherr arose and paced 
 to and fro in increasing impatience. Suddenly he paused in 
 front of his grandson. " Is there an understanding between 
 you?" he asked. 
 
 " No," Otto replied, in a tone that carried conviction 
 with it. 
 
 After a pause his grandfather asked again, " Do you think 
 your affection is reciprocated ?" 
 
 " I I do not know," Otto stammered. 
 
 " Nonsense ! You must know !" the Freiherr roared, now 
 thoroughly indignant. " You're not so over-modest, and when 
 
 it is a question of your whole future life or, can it be?*' 
 
 and his eyes flashed fire from beneath his bushy brows, 
 " have you dared to trifle with Johanna ? In that case, my
 
 184 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 boy, you will answer it to me. Johanna is my (laughter's 
 child, and a Dbnninghausen, even although she does not bear 
 the name." 
 
 Otto sat as if spell-bound by his grandfather's angry eyes. 
 " I assure you " he began at last. 
 
 " No fine phrases I" the Freiherr interrupted him again, 
 but far more gently. " Prove that you are in earnest. Put 
 an end to misunderstandings, and you shall have my blessing." 
 
 Otto started up. He had prepared himself to endure 
 violent reproaches and perhaps temporary banishment from 
 Donninghausen, but to be obliged to betroth himself to 
 Johanna ! What would his former comrades, what would 
 the Klausenburg sisters, above all, what would Magelone 
 say ? 
 
 " My dear sir," he stammered, as all this flashed through 
 his brain like lightning, "how is this possible? My 
 affairs " 
 
 " Are certainly not in a condition to make you a very 
 brilliant match," the Freiherr sarcastically completed hia 
 sentence. " But Johanna is magnanimous. If she loves 
 you, she will not be calculating. Her maternal inheritance is 
 not large, but it will suffice to make you modestly indepen 
 dent " 
 
 " My dear sir, neither am I calculating," Otto interposed. 
 
 The Freiherr laughed contemptuously. " I scarcely need 
 to \yj told that ; but all these are secondary considerations. 
 The point at issue is whether Johanna feels sufficient affec- 
 tion and esteem for you to allow of her intrusting to you her 
 future, and to this question you must ask the answer your- 
 self. You can do it immediately. I have nothing more to 
 say to you." 
 
 Otto arose. " The affair is not so easily disposed of as you 
 seem to think," he rejoined, with a forced smile. " I must 
 first make my peace with Johanna "
 
 A BETROTHAL. 18J) 
 
 " What is the quarrel between you ? Yesterday you 
 
 thought a quarter of an hour enough " The Freiherr 
 
 broke off, and added, frowning, " Stay here. I will send for 
 Johanna. I must see myself how matters stand between 
 you. She shall not be sacrificed." He rang the bell, desired 
 the servant to ask Friiulein Johanna to come to him, and 
 then continued to pace the apartment. 
 
 Otto went to the window. He was indignant. His cheeks 
 glowed, his pulses throbbed. " Magelone is right," he 
 thought. " My grandfather is infatuated with regard to 
 Johanna Sacrificed, indeed to me! And to have to listen 
 and submit, bind myself for life !" But perhaps it would 
 not come to that. Johanna might refuse him. The actor's 
 daughter refuse a Freiherr von Donninghausen ! He bit his 
 lips to keep from laughing aloud in scorn and anger. 
 
 Then he heard the door open, and as involuntarily he 
 looked round, Johanna entered the room. She glanced in 
 some distress from her grandfather to Otto. It was plain 
 that there had been a tempest here. 
 
 The Freiherr requested her to sit down, and then walked 
 once or twice to and fro in silence. He suddenly found what 
 had seemed before so simple difficult to put into words. At 
 last his eye fell upon Otto's note on the table, and he gave it 
 to her. " This note," he said, with a frown, " which waa 
 destined for you, has fallen into my hands and acquainted me 
 with matters of which I had not the faintest suspicion, a 
 state of affairs that must be arranged without delay. I hope 
 you will lighten my task for me by perfect frankness. First, 
 read it." 
 
 She did so. He saw her astonishment turn to painful 
 embarrassment, and as she dropped the note in her lap he 
 felt sorry for her and wished to help her. " Do not think, 
 my child, that I am angry with you," he said more kindly, 
 taking a seat opposite her. " I only want a frank confessioo 
 16*
 
 186 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 of how matters stand between Otto and yourself, and what 
 you have done to put such nonsense into his head, meet- 
 ings at night in the garden when you might talk together all 
 day long. What does it mean ? Speak !" 
 
 His voice had grown more angry, and his eyes flashed. 
 " Speak ! speak !" he repeated, while she struggled for com- 
 posure, which, however, she attained. 
 
 " My dear grandfather," she said, " I assure you that I do 
 not myself understand " 
 
 Otto did not allow her to proceed. Stepping forward so 
 that he stood beside the Freiherr and confronted her, he said, 
 quickly, " Dear Johanna, forgive the thoughtlessness that has 
 caused you this painful scene. Your repulse of me yesterday 
 in the forest made me frantic. I could no longer endure 
 our alienation." 
 
 Johanna, who had been looking up at him, cast down her 
 eyes beneath his ardent gaze. Her pulses throbbed: she 
 trembled. 
 
 " I know," Otto went on, and the more he said the more 
 he talked himself into a certain sincerity, " I know that my 
 conduct towards you has often been such as to justify misap- 
 prehension ; but all my shortcomings were owing to my feeling 
 insecure of your regard. Forgive me, Johanna. Believe in 
 me as you did formerly ; trust me again " 
 
 The Freiherr sprang up. " Is there to be no end of all 
 this ?" he cried. " Come to the point, man, if you can ; and 
 if not, let some one else speak for you. Johanna, my child," 
 he went on more gently, " I have already seen that Otto 
 is not regarded by you with indifference ; but the question is, 
 and I pray you to take serious counsel with yourself before 
 you reply, is your feeling for him strong enough to overcome 
 his weakness and folly, and can you trust him to make you 
 happy, that your marriage may be such as is commanded of 
 God and worthy of our name ? If you can say ' yes' to all
 
 A BETROTHAL. 187 
 
 this, dear child, 1 will give you my blessing from the very 
 bottom of my heart." 
 
 As his grandfather spoke, Otto had stepped to Johanna's 
 side and taken her hand. " Johanna," he whispered, bending 
 over her when the Freiherr paused, " you cannot doubt, you 
 cannot hesitate ; be mine you must 1" 
 
 The, Freiherr, too, now approached her, and there was such 
 a fulness of love and happiness in the tearful eyes that she 
 raised to his own that he clasped her in his arms with a fer- 
 vent " God bless you, my child ! God bless you both I" he 
 continued, as he put her hand into Otto's ; and as the young 
 man received his trembling betrothed in his arms, he really 
 felt that he had gained what had long been the object of his 
 desire.
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 JOHANNA TO LUDWIG. 
 
 " DONNINGHAUSEN, August 22, 1874. 
 
 'ALTHOUGH this letter cannot start on its way to you for a 
 week, I must tell you before the rest of the world of the as- 
 tounding change that has taken place in my life. A few days 
 ago I was betrothed to Otto. My grandfather has not only 
 given us his blessing, but he continually assures me that our 
 betrothal is the fulfilment of his favourite wish, and you can 
 easily imagine the tears of joy that dear Aunt Thekla has 
 shed on our behalf. And you, dear Ludwig, what do you say 
 to my betrothal ? I hardly expect you to be quite satisfied 
 with it at first, but I hope my future happiness will reconcile 
 you to my present joy. I hope, indeed, that the future 
 will be even happier than the present. 
 
 "A strange expression from one so lately betrothed. I 
 think I should not venture to use it to any one save yourself, 
 but I have been so long used to lay bare to you my inmost 
 heart and mind, that I cannot help doing so now. I grow 
 clearer in my own mind when I tell you all. 
 
 " It is so in the present case. I felt a want in my happiness 
 from the first, and now I see why. I know you will accuse 
 me of exaggerated anticipations, and I entreat absolution in 
 consideration of my frank confession. 
 
 "Ah, Ludwig, the foolish Johanna whom you know so 
 
 well had imagined a different wooing. We each went duly 
 
 through all the previous pain that must rack ' heart to heart 
 
 inclined.' I in especial have been tortured of late by 
 
 188
 
 JOHANNA TO LUDWIO. 189 
 
 jealousy, mistrust of him, mistrust of myself, and instead of 
 being released from misery by words of love from his lips, 
 grandpapa asked whether I loved Otto and would consent to 
 marry him. And then there were so many preliminaries 
 to discuss, as if a marriage were to be contracted between 
 princes or peasants. Grandpapa explained to Otto upon the 
 spot how much I was entitled to as the heiress of his daugh- 
 ter, I an heiress ! and how the capital had been increased 
 by interest and compound interest, and how it would be best 
 to invest my ' property.' Once Otto ventured the unlucky 
 remark that he cared for nothing if he only had myself, 
 whereupon grandpapa grew very angry, and since then Otto 
 listens patiently to long explanations and descriptions of the 
 advantages and disadvantages of various estates that are for 
 sale. It distresses me so to have grandpapa always reminding 
 Otto, as he does, that he must consider himself only the 
 steward of my property ; that he has no right to dispose of it. 
 Of course this annoys Otto, and my heart rebels against having 
 these first days of our betrothal so spoiled. 
 
 "And it is not only Otto who has to bear what is painful 
 on account of our love for each other. Apart from what I 
 suffer for him, I am continually wounded, more than ever, by 
 the contempt shown for my father. No betrothal announce- 
 ments were printed, in order that his name might not appear. 
 The event was made known to our immediate circle of ac- 
 quaintance at a solemn dinner given here ; all distant members 
 of the family and heaven only knows how long the list of 
 cousins is grandpapa informed by letter thus : ' My grand- 
 son Otto is betrothed to my grand-daughter Johanna, the only 
 child of my daughter Agnes ;' and although I could not tell how 
 to prevent this, I cannot help having a sensation of wronging 
 the dead. I need not tell you that in Otto's eyes the name 
 of the famous artist which I bear is my best dowry. If it 
 were not so I never could have loved him.
 
 190 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 "Apart from these considerations, we are happy. Otto, 
 who resigned from the army some time ago to turn hia 
 attention to agriculture, is completing his practical studies 
 at Klausenburg. Thus we see each other daily, some- 
 times in the mornings, when grandpapa arranges our rides 
 so that.we meet Otto, and always in the evenings. Then Otto 
 comes to Donninghausen, and, in spite of the formality which 
 is the rule here, there are sure to be opportunities for delight- 
 ful tete-A-tetes in the linden avenue, on the terrace, or, as yes- 
 terday, when it rained, in a window-recess of the drawing- 
 room, while my grandfather and Aunt Thekla were playing 
 piquet and Magelone was seated at the piano. Then we can 
 talk freely of all that life has brought us to make us what 
 we are, and look forward to a future which seems almost too 
 rich in blessings ! No, Ludwig, it is positively wicked to 
 ask for more ; it is not possible to be happier than I am 
 
 now !" 
 
 ******* 
 
 Would Otto have said the same? At times, perhaps, 
 but in any circumstances only at times. He was so abso- 
 lutely dependent upon the impression of the moment that 
 his nature knew only moods, no settled condition. When he 
 clasped Johanna in his arms for the first time as his betrothed 
 he felt ' divinely happy' as never before, but immediately 
 afterward, when he received Magelone's cool congratulations, 
 and later, whenever he felt her unfathomable eyes resting upon 
 him, he was possessed by doubt and annoyance. He would 
 have liked to be free, to break his bonds, and yet a quiet hour 
 with Johanna would again make him her own. The love of 
 her strong, full heart exalted him above himself. He believed 
 for a while in his own affection for her, and so long as no 
 fresh impulse from a contrary direction interfered, he let him- 
 self be borne along in a kind of ecstasy by the same current 
 to which Johanna resigned herself. If they had been married
 
 JOHANNA TO LUDWIO. 191 
 
 without delay, and entirely thrown upon each other's resources, 
 Johanna's influence might perhaps have come off conqueror. 
 But Otto had to finish his year of study at Klausenburg, 
 Johanna had to acquire at Donninghausen the knowledge to 
 qualify her for the mistress of a household, and Magelone 
 was there and bored ! 
 
 She had been startled at first by Otto's betrothal, as 
 by a thunder-clap out of a clear sky. The idea that she 
 herself had perhaps brought about this condition of affairs 
 by her command to Otto was intolerable. She soon found 
 that Otto played his part in the farce with astonishing ease, 
 and then came the suspicion that the farce had been played 
 with herself. Upon this point she must have certainty, and 
 if her suspicion proved well founded he must be pun- 
 ished. 
 
 She waited impatiently for an opportunity to speak alone 
 with Otto, which he, however, seemed to avoid. But one 
 evening she was on the castle steps as Otto galloped into the 
 court-yard. She told him that the others were in the garden, 
 and went with him to look for them. 
 
 For a whilr they walked along together in silence ; at last 
 she asked in a low voice, without looking up, " Have you for- 
 given me ?" 
 
 " Forgiven ?" he repeated, surprised. " What do you mean ?" 
 
 " About the note. What else could I mean ?" And her eyes 
 flashed as she asked, " Do you meam this pretence of forget- 
 fulness for magnanimity ?" Then, falling back into a sad, 
 gentle tone, " Yes, it is magnanimous. I am guilty of this 
 betrothal, perhaps of the unhappiness of your whole future 
 life." 
 
 " You are mistaken. I am not unhappy," he replied, and 
 his manner betrayed a slight embarrassment that did not es- 
 cape Magelone. She paused, laid her hand upon his arm, and 
 looked him full in the face. " Let me look at you," she said.
 
 192 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 " A happy bridegroom in his own despite. Oh, if you but 
 knew how queer you are !" 
 
 She laughed, the old wayward child-like laugh ; but the 
 next moment her eyes were veiled, and, turning from him, she 
 covered her face with her hands and burst into tears. 
 
 " Magelone, what is the matter ?" Otto cried, trying to pull 
 b. r hands down from her face ; but with a scarce audible " Let- 
 2aC alon.? * let me alone 1" she turned and fled back towards 
 the house. 
 
 Otto was surprised beyond expression. He had wronged her, 
 then, when he thought her incapable of any depth of feeling. 
 The cold calculation of which he had accused her had been 
 forced upon her by circumstances. Now, in spite of her ap- 
 parent indifference, her foolish heart had asserted itself. Poor 
 Magelone ! 
 
 When Otto saw her next in the domestic circle she seemed 
 cool and gay as usual, and she continued to appear so, but him 
 she could no longer deceive. 
 
 He knew now what lay concealed beneath this outward 
 seeming ; he noted and interpreted every half sigh, every ab- 
 gent smile, every fleeting moment of abstraction, from which 
 she would rouse herself with a start, and the half-angry glance 
 which she bestowed upon him now and then was quite as 
 comprehensible to him as was her evident avoidance of 
 him. 
 
 At first he was grateful to her for this last. What could ho 
 say to her after that scene in the garden ? By and by, however, 
 her reserve began to annoy him. His mocking intercourse 
 with her was necessary to him as a counterpoise to his grand- 
 father's harshness and severity, and also, although he did not 
 acknowledge this to himself, to Johanna's earnestness. For a 
 time it had interested him to pursue his betrothed's line of 
 thought, more especially as he could resign himself to her guid- 
 ance without any trouble, and, trusting to her, frequently made
 
 JOHANNA TO LUDWIQ. 193 
 
 discoveries in himself which flattered his vanity. But he 
 grew weary of her earnestness. It came to be an effort to 
 him to follow her along the paths she trod so naturally and 
 simply, and he began to sigh for the intellectual and 
 mental repose which he had. always sought and found in the 
 society of women. 
 
 Where should he find it now? Magelone held herself 
 aloof from him, and Elfrida Klausenburg seemed to have for- 
 gotten his existence. In fact, his position in society was en- 
 tirely changed. He had not noticed this so long as the enter- 
 tainments given in return for the grand Donninghausen dinner 
 lasted, but when the echo of the toasts drunk in honour of 
 the betrothed pair had died away, he suddenly found 
 himself of slight importance, if not entirely overlooked, and 
 this not only by calculating mothers and daughters, as every 
 betrothed man must expect, but universally. He had not 
 looked for this result of his choice. 
 
 And society had still further cause for discontent with him. 
 One day the old Countess Klausenburg begged Otto not to 
 read the newspaper, which he was in the habit of glancing 
 through daily. Of course he perused it with all the more 
 attention, and found in it an announcement that Johanna's 
 stepmother was married to the equestrian artist and circus- 
 manager Carlo Batti. Flushed with excitement, he rode to 
 Donninghausen, where he found Johanna alone on the 
 veranda. 
 
 " Have you seen what is in the paper?" he asked, scarcely 
 taking time to greet her. " I suppose it is another of those 
 shameless lies " 
 
 " No ; it is true," Johanna interrupted him. " Helena has 
 written to me herself. Her letter came by the same post that 
 brought the paper." 
 
 " lleally !" Otto exclaimed. " Well, you have not much 
 cause for pride in that connection. But then it is no affair of 
 i n 17
 
 194 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 yours," he added, by way of consolation, seeing her change 
 colour. 
 
 She looked up startled. Could he regard so superficially 
 what had cut her to the very quick? "Oh, Otto!" she 
 said, " I cannot understand how that woman, whom my father 
 fairly adored, could forget him so quickly." 
 
 Otto shrugged his shoulders impatiently. It vexed him 
 that such sentimental considerations should cause Johanna to 
 overlook the real consequences of this wretched marriage ; 
 that is, the necessary lowering of her own position in society. 
 At this instant Magelone made her appearance. " How you 
 look !" she said, turning from one to the other. " Is any- 
 thing the matter? Do you wish to be alone?" 
 
 " No, no ; stay 1" Otto made reply. " All the world knows 
 about the matter we were discussing " 
 
 " Oh, is it that newspaper story ?" Magelone interposed. 
 " These long faces for that ? How can you be so stupid ?" 
 
 " It's all very well for you to talk," said Otto. " Try hav- 
 ing your friends turn up their noses at you." 
 
 " But you must not let them," Magelone exclaimed. " Of 
 course, if you go about like chanticleer in a rain, they will do 
 so. But hold up your head, and look every one full in the face, 
 and no one will hint at the unlucky story ; and even if any one 
 should be so awkward as to allude to it, deny it on the spot." 
 
 " We cannot !" said Johanna. " It is true." 
 
 Mageloue laughed. " That sounds precisely as if you had 
 just been confirmed. True or false, you must deny it. 
 You would not put Otto in the position of step-son in-law to 
 a circus-rider ? And all the rest of us : our step-uncle or 
 step cousin Carlo Batti ? It is too ridiculous !" With these 
 words she departed, with the agreeable consciousness of hav- 
 ing left Otto in no doubt as to the fresh annoyances entailed 
 upon him by his betrothal. 
 
 The evil seed had fallen upon fruitful soil.
 
 JOHANNA TO LUDWIO. 195 
 
 When Magelone had gone, Otto said, still more gloomily 
 than before, " She takes it very easily, but I must confess to 
 you that I am enraged. My position war hard enough be- 
 fore." And he went on venting his indignation agains* 
 society in violent expressions, concluding with the angry 
 words, " Of course you care nothing for all this. You feel 
 yourself, as usual, exalted far above " 
 
 Johanna arose, and interrupted him. " You are mistaken," 
 she said, gently. " Everything that you say cuts me to the 
 heart, and convinces me" she hesitated a moment " con- 
 vinces me that I make you unhappy. This I cannot endure." 
 She could not continue ; her eyes filled with tears, and she 
 turned hurriedly to leave him. But Otto sprang to her side 
 and detained her. 
 
 " Forgive me ! forgive me !" he cried again and again, 
 while clasping her in his arms he kissed her hands, her lips, 
 her eyes, and drew her down beside him, overwhelming her 
 with protestations of affection and reproaching himself bit- 
 terly for his conduct. " Be magnanimous as ever !" he en- 
 treated ; " do not condemn me. I know what a thorough 
 egotist I am ; when anything annoys me I think of no one 
 but myself. I feel only my own discomfort. I am ungener- 
 ous, unloving, a very petrifaction of anger and dissatis- 
 faction. All the better part of me seems paralyzed. I think 
 at such moments I am a perfect wretch. But do not you for- 
 sake me, I conjure you. If there is anything in this world 
 that can save me from myself it is your love." 
 
 Otto was apparently sincere in these self-accusations, but 
 there is no denying that he also found a certain piquant 
 charm in thus setting forth his heartlessness, and perhaps, 
 too, he knew that he was never more irresistible than when 
 heaping himself with reproaches, and, with his fine eyes bent 
 entreatingly upon his companion, begging her to forgive 
 him. The oft-proved power again asserted its sway over Jo-
 
 196 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 hanna. Overcoming her own pain, she thought only of his 
 distress, and did all that she could to make him see himself 
 in a more favourable light. Upon calm reflection, she even 
 found it quite natural that Otto should at first apprehend only 
 the superficial consequences of Helena's second marriage, and 
 she accused herself of over-sensitiveness. Otto also was 
 magnanimous, he forgave the pain which he had caused, 
 and thus peace was restored. 
 
 Great was Magelone's astonishment upon beholding the 
 harmony existing between the lovers when she saw them 
 again. After what had occurred a few hours before, she ex- 
 pected something quite different ; but Johanna's luck was 
 something incredible. Otto, who had always been known 
 to be fickle, had suddenly grown so ridiculously dutiful that 
 he had actually fallen in love with a girl who had been forced 
 upon him, scarcely noticed any other woman, and, in spite of 
 the proverbial pride of the Donninghausens, quietly acqui- 
 esced in this wretched connection. What was the spell that 
 Johanna had woven about him ? It all seemed positively too 
 ridiculous to Magelone when she observed how Otto's eyes 
 followed Johanna ; how he would seize her hand and kiss it 
 as she passed him ; how he continually sought opportunities 
 for a tete-d-tete with her, even venturing to whisper to her 
 when the family were all present. If there had only been a 
 single soul in Donninghausen with whom she could laugh 
 over it all ! But Aunt Thekla contemplated the pair with 
 pleased emotion, the Freiherr with proud content, dubbing the 
 lovers ' the handsomest couple seen at Donninghausen within 
 the memory of man." And the days were so stormy and rainy, 
 the evenings were so long, the family assemblages so inevi- 
 table. And there sat Johanna with undeniably happy eyes ; and 
 every evening Otto appeared, oh, it was almost intolerable 1 
 
 But help was at hand. 
 
 Hedwig Wildenhayn had just presented her husband with
 
 JOHANNA TO LUDWIQ. 197 
 
 a second daughter, and she wrote begging Magelone to stand 
 godmother to it, and adding that she must not fail to be pres- 
 ent at the christening. Within the letter which was for the 
 public was a closely-written sheet marked ' private,' which ran 
 thus: 
 
 "DEAR MAQELONE, You must come, not only on ac- 
 count of the child, but to tell Hildegard (who is coming to the 
 christening) and me more about Otto's betrothal than can bo 
 confided to paper. The affair is still a riddle to me. Our hus- 
 bands you know how good-humoured they are maintain, 
 indeed, that Otto is quite right, and Johanna ' a capital girl !' 
 (I wish I knew why), but this is hardly enough to satisfy me, 
 and Hildegard (who has always been more decided in her 
 opinion than I) declares she never shall be satisfied, and that 
 three such clever women as we must, if we can get together, find 
 ways and means to liberate the poor boy. To speak frankly, 
 dear Magelone, I thought T discovered, upon our last visit to 
 Db'nninghausen, that our brother Otto was desperately enam- 
 oured of a certain lady (you guess who she is, although your 
 modesty may prevent your admitting it), and I was sorry to 
 see it, I confess, for he could not marry her. I still believe 
 in it (I mean his devotion in that qua r ter), and I fancy that 
 Otto in pique (men are so odd, and women, too, for that mat- 
 ter) has betrothed himself to this girl. Hildegard, however, 
 insists that the whole affair has been patched up by our grand- 
 father, who chooses thus to make a Donninghausen of his fa- 
 vorite niece (can you understand why she is so ?), and does 
 not care how we stand affected. You see, dear Magelone, you 
 must come. Only when, by your help, we can clearly ap- 
 preciate our poor Otto's unhappy circumstances (I do not ex- 
 onerate him from blame, but I am so sorry for him) can we 
 decide whether there is any help for him and for us. I contin- 
 ually ask myself wherein we have deserved this trial that 
 has befallen us all, even my little an gel -daughter ; for, since 
 17*
 
 198 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 her elder sister had to be named Henrietta, after my mother- 
 in-law, it would have been so natural to christen this little girl 
 Johanna (grandpapa's godfather's tokens are always so mag- 
 nificent, and he is evidently so much fonder of children who 
 are named after him) ; but Hildegard says that to do so now 
 would look like an ovation to the sister-in-law who has been 
 forced upon us, and of course I am too proud for that, apart 
 from the fact that Hildegard never would forgive me. But 
 1 must conclude ; my dear Eduard is scolding me for writing 
 so much, and we women submit only too gladly to love's 
 tyranny. So adieu for the present, dear Magelone. Pray 
 come as soon as you can. You can, perhaps, give counsel 
 and consolation to your truly affectionate HEDWIQ." 
 
 " How much they must need me !" thought Magelcne. " I 
 wonder if they fancy they are deceiving me with this sudden 
 outburst of tender affection. But never mind that ; after this 
 letter they certainly will make themselves agreeable, and at 
 all events it will be more entertaining at Herstadt than here. 
 If grandpapa will only let me go !" 
 
 Her anxiety upon this point was groundless. The Freiherr 
 made no objection ; on the contrary, the request to one of the 
 family to stand god-parent was, according to his sense of duty, 
 not one that could be refused, and he was glad that, in spite 
 of the stormy autumn weather, Magelone was perfectly 
 willing to undertake the journey with all its discomforts. 
 The proof of his satisfaction which was most welcome to her 
 was the bundle of bank-notes he handed to her ' for the 
 outfit which every lady must have upon such an occasion ;' 
 and, enraptured to escape at last from ' that horrible Db'nning- 
 hausen,' she set forth for Herstadt, wind and weather not- 
 withstanding. 
 
 Life in Donninghausen was now even more quiet than 
 before, and thus there came on for Johanna the sad anni-
 
 JOHANNA TO LVD WIG. 199 
 
 versaries of her father's illness and death. The Freiherr, 
 who never forgot dates, could not bring himself to say one 
 word of sympathy to her, but he took great pains to provide 
 the wherewithal to distract her mind. He eagerly interested 
 himself in the contemplated purchase of her future home. 
 Offers were made of estates which must be examined into. 
 There were letters to answer, plans to study, proposals and 
 calculations to compare, or personal inspections to be made 
 of estates for sale in the neighbourhood. Johanna on these 
 occasions would gladly have appointed Otto her proxy, but 
 the Freiherr would not hear of this. " It is your do wry," he 
 said, "and you must be able to love the spot of earth where 
 you are to live and die. Otto's wishes and approbation are 
 secondary matters." 
 
 Nevertheless, the old Herr would have liked to see on 
 Otto's part a greater display of interest in the choice about 
 to be made. The young man avoided, when he could, any 
 participation in the consultations that took place upon the 
 subject. He detested the whole matter, which he regarded 
 as an outrage upon his own rights and claims. He, a born 
 Db'nninghausen, who had lived from his childhood in his 
 ancestral castle, was pushed aside, while the bourgeoise 
 grand-daughter, whose mother had forcibly severed every tie 
 that bound her to her people, was to be dowered at the ex- 
 pense of the family estate. It might be that this was done 
 for Otto's own sake ; but why did not his grandfather place in 
 his hands the sum he had appropriated to Johanna, and thus 
 give him the position -which a husband had a right to expect? 
 It had always seemed an annoyance to him for a man to be 
 dependent upon a wife's property, but under the present cir- 
 cumstances it was more than annoying, it was degrading ; 
 for instead of receiving from his equal in rank what might 
 be considered a gift of love, here was apparently a business 
 transaction. Hildegard had written him that his grand-
 
 200 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 father was permitting him to pay for his ' frugal outfit' with 
 his name, and his Donninghausen blood was in revolt. There 
 were moments in which he forgot entirely that the Freiherr 
 had been induced to consent to the betrothal, not out of re- 
 gard for material interests, but because he believed sincerely 
 in Otto's love for Johanna ; and at such moments he was 
 profoundly indignant not only with his grandfather, but with 
 his betrothed. Such emotions were very fleeting. He was 
 ashamed of them, and was doubly amiable afterwards in the 
 consciousness that there was somewhat for which he should 
 make atonement. Nevertheless a faint trace of them re- 
 mained, and Johanna perceived it; 
 
 One evening this was more the case than usual. She over- 
 looked his ill humour for a while, under the impression that he 
 would find it easier to overcome if he were not called to explain 
 it, but at last she could remain silent no longer. When her 
 grandfather and Aunt Thekla retired to their piquet, she went 
 to Otto, who was standing at the centre window staring 
 gloomily out into the rain and darkness ; and as she put her 
 hand within his arm she asked him if anything disagreeable 
 had happened. 
 
 " Nothing more than usual," he replied, without looking 
 at her. 
 
 " Usual," she repeated ; " I do not understand you " 
 
 " Of course not," he interrupted her, peevishly. " You 
 never reflect what my sensations must be when you and that 
 old man sit like the fates and consult whether this or that 
 estate shall be purchased, while I, who am more interested than 
 any one else, am not asked to say a word." 
 
 "Do not be unjust, Otto," Johanna entreated him. "If 
 I have these matters talked of in your presence, it is only 
 for the sake of hearing your opinion. Why do you not give 
 it?" 
 
 " Because it would have no influence," he said ; but when
 
 JOHANNA TO LUDWIG. 201 
 
 Johanna, wounded by his unkindness, would have withdrawn 
 her hand from his arm, he drew her closer to his side. " For- 
 give me," he begged, in the tender tone she had not heard for 
 a long while. " I am detestable to-night. But remember 
 how I am tormented. To whom shall I tell it all, if not to 
 you ?" 
 
 " If you only would be frank with me always," Johanna 
 said, in a tone of gentle reproof. " But sometimes you a: j so 
 reserved with me." 
 
 " Because now and then I taistrust even you," he replied, 
 " and have a feeling that you are leagued with my grandfather 
 against me." 
 
 " Dear Otto " she began. 
 
 He interrupted her. " Never mind," he said ; " words 
 avail nothing. I will put you to the test." 
 
 " Do," she said, earnestly. " What do you ask of me?' 
 
 He hesitated. Involuntarily he had said more than he 
 meant to ; but perhaps it was best so. With his own vic- 
 torious smile he said, " I ask you to hurry on the purchase 
 of this estate, that we may be married as soon as possible and 
 sell it again." 
 
 She looked at him incredulously. " You cannot be seri- 
 ous." 
 
 " And why not ?" And his eyes flashed, 
 
 " Consider our grandfather " 
 
 " Consider me !" he exclaimed. " Try to understand, if 
 you can, what it is to be snatched from a career that you love 
 and forced year out and year in to do what gives you not the 
 smallest pleasure. But this you cannot comprehend, no 
 woman can." 
 
 Unconsciously he raised his voice as he uttered the last 
 words. The Freiherr looked round. " How ungallant !" he 
 exclaimed. " What is he reproaching you with, my child ? 
 Let us hear what it is that you c?nnot understand."
 
 202 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 Johanna was embarrassed. Otto instantly came to her aid. 
 " I was lamenting the length of our engagement " he replied. 
 
 " Already !" said the Freiherr ; but his tone and air be- 
 trayed his pleasure in Otto's impatience. And, throwing down 
 his cards, his hand was so poor that he had no desire to play 
 any longer, he continued: " We would appoint the wedding. 
 day if a nest were only found for you." 
 
 Aunt Thekla hastened to put away her aces, for the Frei- 
 herr was cross when he lost a game. " I thought, my dear 
 Johunn," she said, to keep up the conversation, " that you 
 were satisfied with Tannhagen." 
 
 " The estate, yes," he replied; "and the farm-buildings, too, 
 are all very well ; but the house is a ruinous old pile, and Otto 
 cannot wait, as you have just heard, while a new one is 
 building." 
 
 "Why should I, sir?" Otto said. "If Tannhagen suits 
 you in other respects, we shall do very well in the old house, 
 shall we not, Johanna?" 
 
 The Freiherr laughed. " Indeed, my boy ? ' A hovel 
 with the one we love.' Is it come to that with you?" he 
 said, in high good humour. " Well, we will take the matter 
 into consideration. First of all, as soon as the weather per- 
 mits, we must ride over and inspect the owl's-nest and see 
 whether it can be made habitable for a while. [ should like, 
 children, to have you so near me." 
 
 All through the evening the Freiherr's mood was of the 
 brightest, as was Aunt Thekla's. Otto, too, seemed gayer 
 than he had been for a long time. Johanna alone was de- 
 pressed, and could scarcely conceal her sadness. Otto was 
 incomprehensible. She struggled against her suspicions, feared 
 lest she was doing him injustice, and yet what he had paid of 
 his plans scarcely allowed of a misconstruction. Was it pos- 
 sible that he could so misuse his grandfather's assent to his 
 wishes ? After those words, ' I should like to have you so
 
 JOHANNA TO LUDWI0. 203 
 
 near me,' could he contemplate selling again the estate which 
 the old Freiherr was selecting for them with such loving care? 
 She breathed a sigh of relief when she once more found her- 
 self alone in her room, and, after taking counsel with herself, 
 she sat down at her writing-table to write to Otto. She could 
 not but do it, even at the risk of offending him ; there must 
 be no possibility of either's misunderstanding the other. 
 
 She told him frankly that it seemed to her unprincipled and 
 ungrateful to allow their grandfather to provide them with a 
 home only to sell it again immediately, and she declared her- 
 self ready at any moment to brave the old man's anger by 
 relinquishing the estate and requesting Otto's restoration to 
 the army. 
 
 " Our grandfather will not consent at first," she added, 
 " but he will be persuaded in the end. And however long 
 the strife may last, even although it should be for weary weeks 
 and months, we must expect this, my dear Otto, and for my 
 part I will submit gladly for the sake of restoring you to a 
 profession which you like. I confess I had no suspicion of 
 how dear it was to you. I misunderstood you formerly. But, 
 now that I know it, I can understand how irksome must be 
 the calling forced upon you, and how impossible it would 
 be for you to devote your life to it. I am sure you do not 
 think that this could make me doubt your love. What 
 would my love be worth if it could exact such a sacrifice from 
 you? Your happiness, my dearest, is and always must be the 
 aim of all my desires, and how could you be happy if you 
 took no pleasure in your daily -occupations? You think we 
 women cannot understand this ? Let me confess to you tnat 
 there was a time when I believed I had a calling, a calling for 
 art, and that it gave me intense pain when I was forced to 
 recognize my want of talent. To resign a sphere of activity 
 because it is beyond our powers is very different from giving 
 it up merely on account of the stress of outward circum-
 
 204 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 stances. But any one who has been forced to do the formel 
 knows well what pain it must be to do the latter. And, in- 
 deed, I think that without drawing from my own experience 
 I should always suffer out of my love for you from whatever 
 pains and torments you." 
 
 She wrote on for some time in this strain. The frank out- 
 pouring of her very self did her good. In Otto's presence 
 she was always restrained by a certain timidity. Never had 
 she felt so indissolubly bound to her lover. 
 
 The next morning she sent him the letter, although seen 
 by the light of day it seemed to her poor and cold. She 
 consoled herself, however, by reflecting that Otto's heart 
 would supply all that she could not express in words, and she 
 waited eagerly for his reply. 
 
 It was contained in a few lines. Otto thanked her for her 
 letter, and would answer it more thoroughly by word of mouth. 
 
 " Talking is better than writing," he added, " and it is idle 
 to bother with pen, ink, and paper when, as in our case, there 
 exists the blessed certainty of seeing each other almost every 
 day. I shall come at noon to-day, and hope, in spite of the 
 rain, to induce you all to drive to Tannhagen. I am very 
 anxious, my dear little wiseacre, to prove to you that it was 
 quite unnecessary for you to tire your beautiful eyes and 
 snatch so much time from your night's rest. Promise me 
 never to be guilty of such a sin again. I want no letters, I 
 want only yourself."
 
 CHAPTER XVIIL 
 
 TANNHAGEN. 
 
 IT was not until after several unsuccessful attempts that Otto 
 had completed this epistle. Johanna's proposal had terrified 
 him. The mere idea of the storm which she would so boldly 
 have called down upon both their heads was intolerable to 
 him. In spite of all he had said, he had not had the remotest 
 intention of offering any opposition to his grandfather's plans. 
 Still, he certainly might be permitted to grumble at them, 
 especially to Johanna. Her taking everything so seriously 
 was awkward, and she must learn to do so no longer; she 
 must certainly give up her unlucky scheme of interference, 
 which would only serve to anger the Freiherr afresh against 
 his grandson. Johanna, indeed, did not know how often he 
 had forgiven him, how often he had afforded him new openings 
 in life ; but Otto sometimes remembered this, and never with- 
 out a certain annoying sense of shame. 
 
 He tried to rid himself of this to-day by registering a 
 vow that his grandfather should never again have cause 
 for displeasure with him. If the Freiherr liked Tann- 
 hagen, let him buy it. A life in such seclusion was not, in- 
 deed, what Otto had desired, but he must not forget that 
 his task in the future would be to make Johanna happy, and 
 she really had a preference for solitude. Moreover, his gar- 
 rison life had not been all sunshine, and he was uncomfortable 
 enough at present at Klausenburg. 
 
 He concluded then that even for himself acquiescence in 
 bis grandfather's scheme was best, at least for the present. 
 
 18 205
 
 206 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 If hereafter he should become weary of farming, why, the 
 Freiherr could not live forever ; and with regard to Johanna, 
 whose happiness was now to be his chief duty, he was con- 
 soled by something which just now occurred to him that Red 
 Jakob had once said. 
 
 A few weeks before, Otto had been overtaken by a shower 
 on the mountains, and had taken shelter from it in the Forest 
 Hermitage, where he had asked, in the kind manner which 
 he always adopted towards his inferiors, after the welfare of the 
 newly-married pair. Red Jakob, in his bitter way, had con- 
 gratulated himself on the accident that had procured him a 
 subsistence, while Christine, who was still tasting to the full 
 the sweetness of her honeymoon, could not sufficiently extol 
 the delights of her forest life. Otto had told her in jest that 
 she would not talk so in the winter when she might be kept 
 in-doors by storms and snow ; then she would wish herself 
 back again in the pleasant village streets, with the neighbours' 
 houses near, and the spinning-rooms in the evening. Jakob 
 would have too much to do to comfort her ; she might even 
 run away some fine day. The little wife eagerly contradicted 
 him, and Jakob interrupted her with, " Never mind, Chris- 
 tine ; Squire Otto does not understand it yet, but he'll learn 
 by and by." And turning to Otto, he said, with his ugly 
 Binile, " When the wife is in love with the husband and he 
 understands whistling, he can play the Piper of Hamelin with 
 her. I mean, she must follow him wherever he chooses. 
 However hard it may be for her, she'll always thank him for 
 taking her with him." 
 
 Otto went to Dbnninghausen very gay of mood, and at his 
 request, immediately after the second breakfast, all drove, 
 even Aunt Thekla, to Tannhagen. 
 
 The road led at first through Klausenburg, then turned to 
 the left, and continued by an easy ascent up the mountain 
 through a magnificent forest. Far up they crossed the road
 
 TANKUAOEN. 207 
 
 to the Forest Hermitage, then descended a short distance, 
 and upon reaching the edge of the woodland, descried, 
 through the gray veil of the falling rain, a long valley with 
 a little village, and at the farther end a large farm. 
 
 " That is Tannhagen," said the Freiherr. 
 
 Johanna was disappointed ; from the name she had expected 
 a woodland nook. But her grandfather praised the meadows 
 and fields through which they drove, the sheltered position 
 of the valley, which made it possible and profitable to 
 grow fruit even here among the mountains, and Otto seemed 
 to agree with all he said. 
 
 The farm-buildings, too, the barns and stables, the farm- 
 yard, with its well-built walls and green gates, made the best 
 possible impression ; but the old two-storied mansion that 
 formed one side of the farm-yard looked, with its gray walls, 
 its projecting tiled roof, and its small windows, like a peasant's 
 habitation. In summer its ugliness might be partly concealed 
 by the two tall chestnuts before the door, but now their bare 
 boughs, dripping with rain, made the melancholy picture still 
 more melancholy. 
 
 The carriage stopped, but not a human being appeared. 
 The house-dog, who rattled his chain, barking loudly, a flock 
 of chickens that had taken refuge from the rain beneath the 
 projecting roof of a carriage-house, and the cows, lowing 
 loudly in the stables, were apparently the only inmates of the 
 place. 
 
 Otto opened the carriage- door, while the coachman cracked 
 ,his whip impatiently. The Freiherr and Aunt Thekla slowly 
 .alighted, Johanna followed them curiously, and still no one 
 was to be seen. 
 
 Without more ado, the Freiherr ascended the three worn 
 oteps of the entrance-hall. 
 
 " Come, I know the custom of the country," he said. And, 
 turning to a door on the left of the long dim hall, huug
 
 208 A NOB I E NAME. 
 
 around beneath the ceiling with the faded wreaths of many a 
 harvest-home, he opened it without knocking. 
 
 A hot current of air from a stove made itself felt, and a cat 
 ran past them. 
 
 " Who's there ?" a sharp voice asked, and from the other 
 eni of the room there approached the haggard, bent figure 
 of a woman in the dress of a peasant, leaning upon a crutcli. 
 
 The Freiherr bade her good-day, and then shouted into her 
 ear an inquiry for the farmer. 
 
 " My son is away in town at the yearly market," she yelled 
 back. " And he has taken his two daughters and the house- 
 maid with him. No one is at home, and I am too old. I do 
 not know about anything." And as she spoke she turned her 
 deep-set evil little eyes from one to another of the strange faces. 
 
 The Freiherr stooped to shout again into her ear : " We 
 want to see the house, but we will not trouble you ; send one 
 of the servants with us." 
 
 " Servants 1" she repeated. " Do you know where to find the 
 lazy things? When my son is away there is nothing done." 
 
 " Well, then, we'll go alone," the Freiherr interrupted her, 
 impatiently. " You know who I am, I was here before." 
 
 " Yes, yes ; you are the old lord from down there at Don- 
 ninghausen, who wants to buy Tannhagen," the old woman 
 replied, and her little brown eyes twinkled more maliciously 
 than before. " You'd better let it alone ; you'll have no joy 
 of it." 
 
 " Come, why should we stand listening to the old witch?" 
 said the Freiherr. " We will look first at the upper rooms ; 
 they are not in as poor repair as these down here." 
 
 As he spoke, he went out into the hall ; the rest followed 
 him, with the old woman hobbling behind. " Of course you 
 can buy Tannhagen," she went on, eagerly. " My son says 
 that the last lord of Tannhagen is dead, and there must be 
 eouie one to own it. But why do you not leave it as it h*v
 
 TANSUAGEN. 209 
 
 been? To turn out my son, who has always paid his rent 
 punctually in bad years as well as in good ones, is a sin and 
 a shame ; yes, it is a sin and a shame 1" 
 
 The Freiherr looked angrily round, and, without speaking, 
 offered his sister his arm to mount the narrow wooden stair- 
 case that creaked at every step. 
 
 Otto and Johanna tried to appease the old woman, 
 who, however, did not, or would not, understand what they 
 said. 
 
 " Oh, let the strangers come !" she croaked. " They'll 
 have no joy of it. We Brinkmeyers belong to Tann- 
 hagen. My husband's father and grandfather, and heaven 
 knows how many before them, have held this farm, and 
 they were all known for sober, industrious folks, who knew 
 what they were about. And my son is just the same, and 
 whoever turns him out from here," she raised her clinched 
 fist and shook it at the lovers, " whoever turns him out from 
 here will be punished for it, and will have as little peace, 
 living and dying, as they have left to me, poor old woman 
 that I am." 
 
 Involuntarily Johanna recoiled. At the last words she 
 grasped Otto's arm, and while the old woman struck her 
 crutch upon the hall floor and sent shrill menaces after them, 
 she hurried him up the stairs and into the first room that opened 
 upon the corridor, closing the door after them. They heard their 
 grandfather and Aunt Thekla talking in the next apartment; 
 but instead of following them Johanna stood still. " What a 
 terrible reception !" she said, and she repeated in an under- 
 tone the old woman's words, " Let the strangers come. They'll 
 have no joy of it!" 
 
 "Johanna, surely you are not superstitious?" Otto ex- 
 claimed. 
 
 She had gone to the window, and was looking gloomily out 
 into the dripping rain. 
 
 o 18*
 
 210 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 " No, it is not superstition," she replied ; " but it impresses 
 me painfully to hear that old woman give utterance to what I 
 have been thinking all through our drive. I know, Otto, 
 that you will have no joy here. Why this haste ? Why not 
 discuss other plans?" 
 
 " Because there is nothing else to be discussed, dear heart," 
 he replied. " You really must not take my passing moods so 
 seriously." 
 
 " But when you spoke of being forced to relinquish your 
 calling you were not in a passing mood," Johanna persisted ; 
 "you were really unhappy." 
 
 " You are mistaken," he made reply ; " remember, I spoke 
 only of my career. I cannot aver that I have a particular 
 fancy, or calling, as you phrase it, for parade and drill, and 
 you cannot think that I have. I am really rather of grand- 
 papa's opinion, that there is nothing better for a nobleman to 
 do in times of peace than to live upon his own soil and cul- 
 tivate cabbages." 
 
 Johanna's eyes grew brighter. " Are you sure ? Did I 
 misunderstand you yesterday?" she asked, when Otto had 
 finished. " And you have no distaste for farming, but can 
 be content to live in the country year out, year in " 
 
 " If I always have you with me. But you I must have ; I 
 cannot live any longer without you !" he cried, clasping her in 
 his arms and kissing her. 
 
 At this moment a faint ray of sunshine broke through the 
 clouds which a sudden east wind was driving away from the 
 mountains. " Oh, look ; the skies bid us welcome 1" ex- 
 claimed Johanna ; and, looking across the large fruit-gardea 
 extending below the gable-window to the mountains, she 
 went on : " And it is very pretty on this side, with the foi- 
 est so near ; and how fragrant those meadows must be in sum- 
 mer ! And that old building down there among the willows 
 and alders seems to be a mill. See the shady attractive nook
 
 TANKHAGEN. 211 
 
 whence the mill-stream rushes. Dear Otto, if you like it, I 
 should not object to build our cottage here." 
 
 " Johanna !" he exclaimed, rapturously, taking her handa 
 and pressing them to his lips. But the next moment he 
 dropped them, and said, looking round him reflectively, " If 
 the house were only not so miserable. How can I condemn 
 you to such discomfort?" 
 
 Johanna cast a rapid glance around the low-ceiled room, 
 with its whitewashed walls, small windows, gaudy carpet, and 
 spindle-legged furniture standing stiffly in the corners. " It is 
 certainly not all that could be desired," she said, " but it need not 
 always look like this. Picture to yourself the outer walls 
 wreathed with wild grape, clematis, and climbing roses, the 
 interior of the house clean and airy, this balcony the natural 
 colour of the wood, hangings on the walls, the windows turned 
 into casements with round leaded panes, a tall green porcelain 
 stove in that corner, a clock against the wall, and high-backed 
 chairs, old carved cabinets and tables, and corner-cup- 
 boards " 
 
 " Stop, stop, child, or you'll have it a perfect museum !" 
 laughingly broke in the Freiherr, who had been listening 
 for a few moments. " But I really think you have shown 
 that you could choose the best furniture for this owl's-nest. 
 If we buy Tannhagen, we will do our best to have it arranged 
 according to your fancy. Now let us go seriously to work to 
 find what the house is and what it lacks." 
 
 They did so. Her conversation with Otto had made Jo- 
 hanna so happy that she saw everything from garret to cellar 
 in the rosiest light. She found a remedy for every defect 
 which Aunt Thekla discovered ; and even Otto, carried 
 away by her cheerful gayety, was well pleased with every- 
 thing. 
 
 At last they had explored every nook and corner, had bid- 
 den adieu to the old woman, who now contented herself with
 
 212 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 eying them malevolently, and were walking through the wide, 
 dark hall to the closed front door. 
 
 " It really is uncanny here," Aunt Thekla whispered. " It 
 seems to be raining in all these dark corners. And listen how 
 the wind howls !" 
 
 " Nonsense !" exclaimed the Freiherr. " Do you think it 
 eings a special song to this old barracks ? As for the corners, 
 they will be light and commonplace enough as soon as Otto 
 succeeds in opening the door for us." 
 
 Otto had been shaking at the old latch for a while. The 
 door now sprang open. A blast of wind drove it back 
 against the wall with a crash. It was answered by another 
 crash, probably produced by the blowing to of some window. 
 There was a rustling in the air, and a dark something fell from 
 above and lay between Aunt Thekla and Johanna, \rho 
 recoiled with a slight scream. 
 
 Otto sprang to pick it up. " It is the homage paid by the 
 old barracks to its future mistress," he said, laughing, holding 
 out to Johanna one of the withered harvest-wreaths. 
 
 " Or an evil omen," Aunt Thekla whispered, and then 
 hoped that no one had heard her. The lovers looked laugh- 
 ing into each other's eyes, and the Freiherr, standing at the 
 carriage-door, bade them make haste and get in. 
 
 Johanna fortunately attached no importance to the trifle. 
 The Freiherr was so interested in the prospect of founding a new 
 nest of Donninghausens in the neighbourhood of the cradle 
 of the race that all through the homeward drive he discussed 
 the pros and cons of the purchase, and the pros came to be 
 more .and more in the ascendant. At Donninghausen he 
 laid before the lovers all the documents that he had been 
 able to procure with regard to the estate, and met with an 
 unqualified assent to his plans and wishes. Otto was even 
 more zealous than the Freiherr ; the fourteen days for consid- 
 eration which his grandfather proposed seemed to him too
 
 TANNHAGEN. 213 
 
 long, and as he left he whispered to Johanna, " Darling, do 
 what you can to have us established soon at Tannhagen." 
 
 It was late, and the Freiherr was about to retire. "When 
 Johanna bade him ' good-night,' he took both her hands in his. 
 " My child," he said, drawing her towards him, " you must 
 reflect seriously upon the purchase of Tannhagen. Do not for- 
 get that the comfort of your future life is at stake, and leave 
 out of the question my wishes and Otto's impatience. Will 
 you do this, and tell me frankly the conclusion at which 
 you arrive? We might look farther and find something 
 better." 
 
 " Not for me, dear grandpapa. I have fallen in love with 
 the old house," she said. And, kissing his hand, she added, 
 " If I could only tell you how your kindness touches me !" 
 
 As she spoke, there was something in the sound of her voice 
 that reminded the old man more than ever of her mother. To 
 ward off his own emotion, he exclaimed, " Kindness, dear child ! 
 It is obstinacy. I can hardly wait to have you bear the 
 name of Donninghausen." And, as if to himself, he added, 
 "Donninghausen-Tannhagen. God grant that name a fair 
 fame !" 
 
 " Donninghausen-Tannhagen !" Johanna, too, whispered to 
 herself soon afterwards, as in her own room she stood at the 
 window and looked out into the dark rainy night. Donning- 
 hausen-Tannhagen ! What was there in the name to move her 
 so strangely ? Was it the thought of the old house that was 
 to be the home of her young happiness ? She saw it dis- 
 tinctly in imagination, not only as it was, but as it should be, 
 and as it surely one day would be. And not only the rooms 
 did she see, but the stir of human life within them. Forms 
 came and went, grouped themselves, vanished, and were re- 
 placed by others. They spoke, and Johanna understood them 
 without actually hearing their words. It was all dream-like, 
 shadowy, and Johanna felt it to be so.
 
 214 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 " I must be dreaming already ; the day has over-fatigued 
 me," she said to herself. But, whereas she usually fell asleep 
 with her mind dwelling upon Otto, to-night, when she extin- 
 guished her candle, she was surrounded anew by these images 
 from Tannhagen. From room to room, up and down the 
 stairs, through court-yard and garden, she passed, always sur- 
 rounded by changing forms and faces, among them was the 
 angry old woman upon her crutch. She was transformed, 
 Bho looked young, gay, and happy, and Johanna knew that 
 she had secretly stolen forth from her father's mill among 
 the alders to spend a few minutes with the handsome son of the 
 Tannhagen farmer, whom she loved and could not yet marry. 
 Suddenly she was old again, and, striking her crutch on the 
 floor, repeated that no one who bought Tannhagen should have 
 any joy of it, and the faded harvest-wreaths beneath the 
 ceiling rustled and whispered, as if to say, ' Ah, we have seen 
 much, and could tell much !' 
 
 This swarm of creatures of her fancy was not new to 
 Johanna, only she had grown unaccustomed to them. As a 
 child, and even as a young girl at Lindenbad, they had con- 
 tinually crowded about her ; but then they came in the day- 
 time, often in the midst of tedious lessons and tasks. Some- 
 times they were mere fleeting, misty phantoms ; sometimes 
 they were distinct, brightly-colored figures, playing their 
 parts in the wildest dramas, which the girl would go on 
 weaving for days and weeks. Not until she took occasion to 
 tell these tales did they leave her, sometimes before she wished 
 them to do so. Then the fantastic swarm would vanish as at 
 the word of a magician. Therefore she could not be de 
 pended upon by an audience. Only among the small children 
 at her pension she now and then found a story-loving creature 
 who would listen eagerly to her fragments. The ' big 
 girls' ridiculed her, and Johanna, ashamed, put a check 
 upon her fancy, till at last the ' stupid images' trouble^ 1 her
 
 TANNHAGEN. 215 
 
 no more. Why should they now suddenly appear again ? Was 
 it to lure her to Tannhagen, or to scare her from it ? 
 
 For a while Johanna let them come and go, then she tried 
 to rid herself of them, but she could not. At last she arose, 
 lit a candle, wrapped herself in a dressing-gown, and sat down 
 at her writing-table. Perhaps writing would be as effective 
 as narrating by word of mouth. 
 
 " Dear Otto," she began, and then passed her pen through 
 the words. He would not understand her ; he would laugh 
 at her as the ' big girls' had done at the pension. Moreover, 
 he did not want letters from her, and did not like to have 
 her tire her eyes and snatch any time from her night's rest. 
 Formerly she had gone to Ludwig with her narratives ; 
 but to tell him what she withheld from Otto would be simply 
 impossible. 
 
 For a while she sat undecided, then she dipped her pen in 
 the ink again. " I will try it," she whispered to herself, and 
 began to write. To whom ? Out into space. And what ? 
 She herself did not know.
 
 CHAPTEE XIX. 
 
 PROFESSIONAL ENTHUSIASM. 
 
 THE Freiherr had bought Tannhagen, and had acceded to 
 Otto's entreaty that the marriage might take place at the end 
 of May. There was much to do before then to make the 
 ' old barracks,' as the Freiherr called the farm-house, habi- 
 table. There was no end of consultations with builders and 
 workmen. Hangings and carpets were ordered. Lobel Wolf, 
 who had been taken into favour again, rans,vked the country 
 round for old furniture to suit Johanna's taste ; Aunt Thekla 
 contributed chests full of linen, and Otto was perpetually 
 going to and fro urging the workmen at Tannhagen to 
 greater speed and keeping his grandfather informed of all 
 that was doing. 
 
 The Freiherr seemed to grow younger and more cheerful 
 every day amid these constant calls upon his interest. They 
 helped him to forego the usual Christmas gathering this year, 
 and to bear the absence of Johann Leopold. Hedwig could 
 not, of course, travel with her new-born baby, and Hilde- 
 gard's children had the measles, very fortunately for their 
 mother, who was reluctant to witness the happiness of the 
 betrothed pair. Magelone also was away. She had devel- 
 oped a tender affection for Hedwig's boys, and begged her 
 grandfather to allow her to spend her Christmas with them. 
 
 It was a great pleasure, shortly before Christmas-day, to 
 receive a letter from Johann Leopold. It was plain, how- 
 ever, from its contents that a previous packet, containing a 
 letter from Ludwi Werner in answer to the announcement
 
 PROFESSIONAL ENTHUSIASM. 2 IT 
 
 of Johanna's betrothal, had been lost. This time only Jo- 
 hann Leopold wrote. Ludwig had been absent from him for a 
 while upon an expedition to the interior, which the writer did 
 not feel strong enough to join. He said nothing special about 
 his health, but from several of his expressions it seemed 
 plain that the hopes he had entertained as to the effect of his 
 travels had not been confirmed, and, in spite of the pleasure 
 and interest they had afforded him, there might be read between 
 the lines of his letter a certain desire for home, the longing 
 of an invalid ^o be once more living quiet days amid familiar 
 scenes. Still, he did not seem inclined to hasten his return. 
 He wrote that the work of the expedition to which Ludwig 
 Werner belonged would hardly be finished before the end of 
 the summer, so that he could not expect to see Db'nninghausen 
 again before the autumn. He was, of course, all the more 
 anxious for a detailed account of all that passed there, and 
 asked particularly concerning the plans of the betrothed 
 pair, whom he cordially begged to rely upon his brotherly aid 
 whenever they might require it. Sympathy with their hap- 
 piness, he added, should cheer his own life of renunciation. 
 
 " Poor Magelone !" thought Otto, when he heard this por- 
 tion of the letter. " How can she depend for future happiness 
 upon such a shadow of a man ?" But the old Freiherr de- 
 clared that it was all hypochondriacal nonsense, and that when 
 the bustle of the outfit and the wedding were over at Tann- 
 hagen, the same thing should be begun at Donninghausen. 
 
 " You will see, Thekla," he said to his sister, " when it 
 comes to seriously building his nest, Johann Leopold will be 
 just as sensible as Otto has become. I never should have be- 
 lieved that the lad could be so practical and industrious. It 
 gives me the greatest pleasure to see it." 
 
 Even Johanna was surprised at Otto's unwearied zeal, but 
 she could not help thinking that in his care for outward 
 circumstances, the frame of life, he was overlooking the life 
 K 19
 
 218 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 itself, and his ardent tenderness could not indemnify her foi 
 the want of that congeniality of mind and thought which she 
 had hoped for from her lover, and for which she longed daily. 
 Otto declared that there would be time enough for philosophiz- 
 ing when they were settled in their Tannhagen solitude ; at 
 present it seemed to him best to discuss the alterations in the 
 house, the laying out of the garden, the carpets, and the fur- 
 niture. And since Johanna's taste differed widely from hia 
 own, which was all for the modern, the elegant, and the 
 graceful, while she would have had her furniture in artistic 
 harmony with her house, there was no end to discussions upon 
 household matters, which left Otto no time for what interested 
 Johanna more deeply. 
 
 She would not admit to herself that he lacked interest in 
 everything save what was superficial, and after he had left her 
 in the evening she made every effort to banish the feeling of 
 discontent that assailed her. She sought refuge more and 
 more continually at her writing-table. The impression pro- 
 duced upon her imagination by Tannhagen at her first visit 
 had not faded. She still in fancy saw the old house peopled 
 with shapes upon whom, involuntarily, she bestowed the very 
 life of her life, whom she caused to ask and answer, to love, 
 to suffer, to hope, and to grieve, according to her own mood. 
 And each of these phantoms had an individual existence, to 
 which she felt forced she knew not why to give expiessiosi 
 in words. She did it with mingled delight and pain. Form 
 and colour would sometimes elude her, or the shape which 
 she had thought stable would fade and vanish, while at other 
 times, without the slightest effort on her part, her brain would 
 be crowded with clear and lovely images, whose very being she 
 could understand and interpret. What would come of all 
 this she never asked herself. She believed that in writing 
 she was but obeying an impulse to reveal herself absolutely 
 to Otto. She called these outpourings of her very self
 
 PROFESSIONAL ENTHUSIASM. 219 
 
 'apocryphal love-letters,' and she wrote herself to rest, aa 
 gome sing themselves to sleep. 
 
 Thus the winter passed. It was unusually stormy and 
 severe, even for these mountains. All the more welcome to 
 Johanna were the first spring breezes, the coming of the first 
 birds of passage, and the bursting of the sheaths of the first 
 blossoms. Her rides and walks with her grandfather were 
 not long enough. Elinor was saddled for her in the early 
 morning, and it was sometimes hard to turn back in time for 
 breakfast. 
 
 One morning she had started earlier than usual. Tho 
 eager March air and the sunshine blended harmoniously. A 
 laik poured his 'full heart' 'from heaven or near it.' With 
 Leo barking about her, she turned her mare into the wood- 
 land path leading to the ' Forest Hermitage.' 
 
 It was long since she had seen her proteges. The Freiherr 
 had not forbidden her to visit them, but it vexed him to hear 
 them mentioned. Therefore, when she crossed the forest 
 path upon her road home from Tannhagen with her grand- 
 father, she did not venture to turn into it. She learned from 
 Otto, who now and then brought her a greeting from Chris- 
 tine, that the couple were content and happy, and she should 
 be glad to hear this from Christine herself. 
 
 But she found an invalid. An old woman opened the door 
 for her, with a curtsey. The young wife lay on the sofa, 
 propped with pillows, her face pale and wan, her eyes dim, 
 and the hand she held out to Johanna burned with fever. 
 
 " Christine, what has been the matter?" Johanna exclaimed, 
 in dismay. " When Herr Otto saw you a week ago h 
 brought me such good news of you !" 
 
 Christine's eyes wore an anxious, terrified expression. " 1 
 was taken ill just afterwards," she answered, in a weak voice. 
 " But please, Fraulein, say nothing about it now : I hear
 
 220 A AOBLE NAME. 
 
 Jakob coming; he is too anxious, and I am a great deal 
 better." 
 
 Her husband entered. Johanna was startled by his gloomy, 
 haggard looks. 
 
 " The gracious Fruleen !" he cried, and tore off his hat. 
 
 Johanna thought she detected a shade of reproach in his 
 tone. " I did not know that Christine was ill, or I should 
 have come long ago," she said. " Why did you not send me 
 word? I should have been so glad to do something for 
 her." 
 
 " Thanks, gracious Fruleen," he replied ; " she has wanted 
 for nothing. The Klausenburg doctor has been here every 
 day, and she has had plenty of medicine, there, little one, 
 is a fresh bottleful, and she shall have whatever she wants 
 to eat and drink, if I have to run miles for it." He laughed, 
 and ran his fingers through his bushy red hair, so that it 
 stood out all over his head. 
 
 Christine looked at him beseechingly. "Yes, yes, Frau- 
 lein," she said, " he has tended me as if I were a princess. 
 He is on his feet day and night." 
 
 " That's the part you tell !" he interrupted her ; " but that 
 it is all my fault " 
 
 " Jakob, what did you promise me ?" the sick woman im- 
 plored him, lifting her clasped hands. 
 
 " That I would not speak evil of any one," he answered, 
 gloomily, " and I won't. But I may tell of what I have done 
 myself. Yes, gracious Fruleen, it is my fault, the fault of 
 my bad temper, that the poor little thing is lying there, dis- 
 appointed of her pleasure in soon having a child again. And 
 
 when I see her, as patient as a lamb But if she dies " 
 
 He raised his sound arm and shook his clinched fist. " If 
 she dies God in heaven !" 
 
 With this cry he sank back into a chair, covered his face 
 with his hands, and sobbed aloud.
 
 PROFESSIONAL ENTHUSIASM. 221 
 
 Christine half arose. " Let me ! let me !" she bogged, try- 
 log to resist Johanna's efforts to detain her. 
 
 " See now, I always do her harm," he said, gently putting 
 her back among the pillows. " Be good, child, and reasonable 
 for both of us. I cannot be, for I have nothing but you ; and 
 whoever takes you from me, whether it be a man or God 
 Almighty " 
 
 She pressed her hand upon his lips. " Hush, hush 1" she 
 said, '' do not blaspheme. I am better. We shall stay with 
 each other for a while yet. Let us pray for it ; try to, for 
 my sake." 
 
 He turned away. " Whatever you please for your sake, 
 but I cannot pray any more." 
 
 " He will learn how to again,'' Johanna interposed. " But 
 now, Christine, you must not worry, for Jakob's sake you 
 must not. To lie still and be nursed is all you have to do. I 
 am sorry I must go now, but I will come soon again, and send 
 to you meanwhile Jakob will let me send you something to 
 strengthen you." 
 
 Again the terrified look appeared in Christine's eyes. " Dear 
 Jakob, Hanne ought to make my gruel," she said. And when 
 he had left the room to see that it was done, she seized Jo- 
 hanna's hand, and whispered, " Ah, it is such a pleasure to 
 have you come, Fraulein, but please don't take it amiss 
 please don't let Squire Otto bring me anything. It is best he 
 should not come here ; while I am sick, at all events. Jakob 
 is so hasty, and I am so distressed." 
 
 Her hands trembled, and her breath came quick and short. 
 
 " He shall not come, be sure, Christine," Johanna replied. 
 
 " But please don't tell the Squire I said it. You will prom- 
 ise me this ?" the poor child went on ; and before Johanna could 
 reply, Jakob returned, and Johanna took her leave. To-day 
 she shook hands with Jakob. She pitied the savage fellow as 
 much as she did the weak little wife who loved him so trem- 
 
 19*
 
 222 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 blingly. What could have occurred between Otto and him- 
 self? Otto had spoken of his visits to the Forest Hermitage 
 with the utmost frankness. Probably he had no suspicion of 
 having aroused Jakob's anger ; the poor embittered creature 
 was so easily offended. Perhaps it might all be made right 
 by a word from her, but it was just as likely that she might 
 cause a fresh outbreak, and the invalid must not be exposed to 
 such a peril ; all explanations must be deferred, at least until 
 her recovery. 
 
 Absorbed in thoughts such as these, Johanna pursued her way 
 home through the forest. Suddenly she heard the Klausen- 
 burg clock strike eight. She was startled. If she would not 
 spoil her grandfather's humour for the day, she must be ready 
 for breakfast at half-past ; and that seemed scarcely possible if 
 she should continue upon this path, which wound in and out 
 by long detours among the rocks. But here was a path to the 
 left which seemed to lead directly down the steep declivity into 
 the valley. " Elinor, shall we venture ?" Johanna asked, pat- 
 ting the mare's slender neck. The creature seemed by a proud 
 toss of its head to answer yes, and the rider turned into the 
 steep, slippery pathway. With the greatest caution, and per 
 fectly sure of foot, Elinor performed her task, and at the end 
 of ten minutes the borders of the forest in the valley were 
 reached. " Brava, Elinor ! Now for a gallop as a reward." 
 And away flew horse and rider along the narrow road which, 
 intersected by numerous ditches, led through the fields to the 
 Donninghausen park. 
 
 The park on this side was bounded by a brook, which, rush- 
 ing from the mountains over its stony bed, united far below in 
 the valley with the Donninghausen mill-stream. The little 
 river there made a sudden turn to the south, while the vil- 
 lage road, which up to this point wound along beside it, crossed 
 jt by a bridge, and, keeping on in its former direction, led 
 straight to Klauseuburg.
 
 PROFESSIONAL ENTHUSIASM. 223 
 
 A carriage was crossing this bridge, coming from the village 
 of Klausenburg ; its occupants saw the rider bound forth from 
 the forest and dash along the meadow-path, followed by Leo. 
 
 " By Jove, she can ride !" exclaimed a black-haired man sit- 
 ting on the back seat. " She has her horse well in rein, and 
 the brute is not to be despised either. Aha ! see her take that 
 ditch ! And, by Jove, there she goes at another I Brava, 
 brava !" 
 
 " That must be Johanna !" the woman beside him remarked. 
 And the little girl opposite her leaned forward and cried, "Jo- 
 hanna ! Oh, I want to go to her !" 
 
 The man did not hear her. The black eyes in his brown, 
 eager face sparkled. " Now the brook !" he went on. " Aha ! 
 I thought so. The horse refuses to leap ! The water tumbles 
 and foams too much. But his rider chooses to do it. Hurrah ! 
 there she goes ! Brava, bravissima !" he shouted, and waved 
 his hat in the air. The little girl, too, waved her pocket- 
 handkerchief, and joined her childish voice to the man's 
 loud applause. Johanna did not hear them, the wind 
 and the rushing water drowned their voices, but she saw 
 the hat and the handkerchief waved in the air, and, mortified 
 at having made a show of herself, she rode on quietly to the 
 castle. 
 
 She was in time for breakfast, and was doubly glad to be su, 
 since her grandfather's mood was evidently not a cheerful one. 
 Magelone had again put off her oft-postponed return to Don- 
 ninghausen. 
 
 " There must be an end of it !" said the Freiherr, after he 
 had informed his sister and Johanna of Magelone's letter. " I 
 will write to her to-day. She will get the letter to-morrow, 
 to-morrow evening at the latest, and the day after to-morrow 
 ehe will please to come home. I cannot endure this modern 
 habit of vagabondage ! It's been hard enough not to be able 
 to forbid it to the boys, but you women will please to stay
 
 224 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 where the Lord has provided still waters and green pastures 
 for you !" 
 
 With these words he got up from table and walked to the 
 door At the same moment a servant brought Johanna a 
 note. " The messenger is waiting for an answer," he said. 
 
 Tl e Freiherr came back. " Read it, child," he said. " If 
 Otto is going to Tannhagen to-day, we can meet him there." 
 
 Johanna mechanically obeyed, although, with a mixture of 
 terror and delight, she had seen at a glance that the note was 
 from her step-mother. She opened it and read : 
 
 " DEAR JOHANNA, As I do not know whether we ought 
 to come unannounced, we have stopped at the village inn, 
 and beg you to let us know when you can see us. Do not 
 keep us waiting too long. Lisbeth is crying with impatience. 
 With much love, yours, HELENA." 
 
 Johanna summoned up all her courage. " The note is 
 not from Otto, grandfather," she said, in a faltering voice. 
 " My step-mother and my little sister are here. At the village 
 inn," she added, as she observed the Freiherr's start. 
 
 He controlled himself with an effort. " At the village inn !" 
 he repeated, after a pause. " Well, you can go to them there 
 if you really wish to see them." With these words he turned 
 to go ; Aunt Thekla followed him. " Dear Johann," she said, 
 in her low, pleading voice, " it looks so unkind. Could not 
 Johanna have the woman and the little girl in her own " 
 
 Her brother's eyes flashed so that she paused in terror. 
 
 " Thekla !" he exclaimed, " think what you are saying. 
 Rope-dancers and mountebanks here in my house 1 Never !'' 
 With these words he left the room, and the door crashed to 
 after him.
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 AN EQUESTRIAN ARTIST. 
 
 JOHANNA accompanied Helena's messenger to the village. 
 Her longing to see Lisbeth lent wings to her feet, and thrust 
 into the background all questions as to how she should con- 
 duct herself towards her step-mother. And when, as soon as 
 the inn garden was reached, the pretty little figure came flying 
 towards her, and Lisbeth's arms were round her neck, while 
 she loaded her sister with caresses, calling her by all the old 
 childish terms of endearment, Johanna forgot to be anything 
 save grateful to Helena for affording her such a pleasure, and 
 she held out her hand to her with emotion. 
 
 Helena clasped her in her arms. " Dear Johanna ! how 
 glad I am !" she said. " But here is some one, too, who longs 
 to see you. My husband. Receive him kindly, I pray you." 
 
 With these words she led Johanna into the inn parlour. 
 " Dear Carlo, here she is," she added, with evident anxiety in 
 her voice. 
 
 A broad-shouldered, middle-aged man, with a dark com- 
 plexion, sparkling brown eyes, black hair, and a thick black 
 moustache, arose from the window-seat. " Most happy, most 
 happy !" he cried, in ringing tones, taking Johanna's hand and 
 shaking it without more ado. " I have heard much that is fine 
 about you, and have seen even more, for I think you were the 
 horsewoman we watched this morning, eh ?" 
 
 " And you were the spectator who waved his hat?" said 
 Johanna. 
 
 " Rather say admirer," Carlo Batti interrupted her. " Ad- 
 P 225
 
 226 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 mirer 1 By Jove ! you know how to manage a horse ! Where 
 in all the world, Fraulein, did -you learn to ride so famously ?" 
 
 " Dear Carlo, had we not better sit down before we plunge into 
 an artistic discussion?" Helena asked, with some asperity. 
 " Come, Johanna, there is a sofa. Although it is a hard one " 
 
 " Yes, yes, come !" Lisbeth exclaimed, drawing her sister 
 towards it. " We will sit down together, as we used to do in 
 the twilight when you told me stories." 
 
 " Do you remember them still ?" Johanna said, gently. " I 
 thought you would forget me." And, seating herself on the 
 sofa, she took the child into her lap, and the little head was 
 laid, as formerly, upon her shoulder. 
 
 " Forget !" Helena repeated, as she sank down in the 
 other corner of the sofa. " Forget you ! That would be in- 
 excusable, after all that you did for her. No; she is a good, 
 grateful little thing. She has talked of you every day." 
 
 These were strange words from the lips of this woman. 
 Lisbeth solved the riddle. " Yes, my dear, good old darling, 
 I talked of you all the time ; I wanted to come to you, and 
 now 1 am not going away again. Mamma says that she and 
 Uncle Carlo do not need me now, and will leave me with 
 you." 
 
 Helena looked embarrassed. " How naughty, Lisbeth !" 
 she cried. " And why do you say ' Uncle Carlo' ? He is 
 papa." 
 
 The child sat upright in Johanna's lap. " But he is not 
 my papa," she said, waywardly. " Is he, Johanna?" 
 
 " Be quiet, you little mouse," Carlo Batti interposed, having 
 drawn up a chair beside Johanna and seated himself in it. 
 " Dear Helena, do not tease her ; we can be just as good 
 friends if she calls me Uncle Carlo." And turning to Johanna, 
 he continued: " Permit me to repeat my question, ' Of whom 
 did you learn to ride ?' Here are not only strength, security, 
 elegance, but also, if I do not mistake, a grand method '
 
 ^V EQUESTRIAN ARTIST. 227 
 
 " Which I owe partly to my grandfather and partly to old 
 Martin, his groom," was Johanna's smiling reply. 
 
 "Genius, then! pure genius!" cried Carlo Batti, and his 
 bronze face flushed and his eager brown eyes sparkled. " I'll 
 tell you what ! Come to us ; put yourself in my hands, and, 
 by Jove ! I'll promise that in a year you shall be as famous 
 as as " 
 
 " Don't trouble yourself, dear Carlo," said Helena. " Jo- 
 hanna, as you know, is about to marry a Herr von Donning- 
 hausen." 
 
 " To be sure ; I had forgotten. These infernal grand 
 matches!" he exclaimed, with a comical expression of despair. 
 " You might search the length and breadth of the country and 
 not find such a talent as yours. And you chink of marriage, an 
 irksome marriage ! No, no ! come to us. Just try it!" And 
 he seized Johanna's hand in a clasp fi^>m which it cost her 
 repeated efforts to withdraw it, and weut on with enthusiasm : 
 " I need not tell you what it is to haw under perfect control 
 a horse, a strong, proud, noble creature ; but you do not yet 
 know what it is to feel a thousand eyes riveted upon you in 
 admiration, to hear a thousand voices shouting applause. Try 
 it ; let me adjure you, try it ! and I'll be d d if you do not 
 say Carlo Batti is right ' the world belongs to the artist, and 
 it shall belong to me !' It belongs even more to a woman than 
 
 to one of us, especially when she looks like " He laughed, 
 
 and his glance completed his sentence. " I cannot under- 
 stand, Helena, how you could tell me that Fraulein Johanna 
 was not beautiful. A brilliant apparition for the ring, en- 
 tirely too brilliant. It would outshine all others." 
 
 Johanna laughed ; the man's coarse admiration was ex- 
 pressed with such good-humoured simplicity that she could not 
 resent it. 
 
 But Helena said, half irritated and half confused, " You 
 forget entirely that Johanna has arranged her future very
 
 228 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 differently." Then, smiling sweetly, she added, in a senti- 
 mental tone, " You men never appreciate the delight with 
 which a true woman relinquishes art, even when she has 
 tasted its raptures and its triumphs, for the sake of her love. 
 You, indeed, dear Carlo, ought to know this." 
 
 He shrugged his shoulders, and his mobile features be- 
 trayed mingled derision and impatience. " I had no objection 
 to your remaining on the stage, but the grapes were sour !" 
 he said. And, rising, he went to the window, where he stotd 
 drumming on the pane, while Helena, who had flushed 
 crimson, said, with a forced smile, "Men are all alike, dear 
 Johanna, as you will learn. Carlo is one of the best of them." 
 
 Johanna made no reply. What a contrast there was be- 
 tween her father's noble, intellectual personality and this 
 good-humoured boor ! But Helena deferred to him, excused 
 his lack of consideration, endured his rude conduct, hung 
 upon his words, and followed his every motion with loving 
 looks. The girl's heart was filled with bitterness and disgust, 
 and involuntarily she clasped Lisbeth closer in her arms, as if 
 she could shield the little one from such contact. 
 
 Helena stroked the child's curls caressingly. " You cau- 
 not think how good Carlo is to Lisbeth !" she went on, in an 
 undertone. " Because she was continually begging for her 
 Johanna, he did what I have never known him to do before 
 sent on the baggage-train, and we do not follow it before 
 night by the express " 
 
 Lisbeth sprang up. " Kind Uncle Carlo 1" she cried, run- 
 ning to the window. 
 
 He turned round. " Come !" he said, kindly ; and stoop- 
 ing, he stiffly held out to her his open right hand. With a 
 jump Lisbeth stood erect upon it, and, holding by his raised 
 left hand, was carried back thus to the sofa. 
 
 The sight gave pain to Johanna. She arose and took the 
 child from its step-father.
 
 AN EQUESTRIAN ARTIST. 229 
 
 " An ungrateful public, not even one round of applause !" 
 he said, laughing. " But never mind, you shall have a better " 
 some day." And, turning to Johanna, he added, " She has 
 made her appearance once, with great applause and self- 
 satisfaction. Hey, little mouse ?" 
 
 " Oh, it was beautiful !" Lisbeth cried, with sparkling eyes. 
 *' Everything I had on was pink and silver, even my stock- 
 ings ; and I had silver wings on my shoulders " 
 
 Johanna closed her lips with a kiss. Her father's child in 
 a circus ! 
 
 Carlo Batti misunderstood her. " Yes, yes," he went on, 
 with a conceited smile, " you may well be proud of your little 
 sister, and of her advantages. Race artist blood and 
 Carlo Batti to the fore, the devil must be in it if something 
 does not come of all that." 
 
 " If it is not too much for her," Helena interposed. " Only 
 see, Johanna, how pale the little face is, now that the excite- 
 ment of seeing you again is over ! That is Carlo's fault. He 
 never knows when to stop !" 
 
 "Stuff!" he said, laughing. "The little lady grows 
 too fast, that's why she is pale and tired sometimes. Say 
 yourself, little mouse, which tires you the most, I or your 
 leather school-books ?" 
 
 " Oh, the books, the horrid books !" cried the child, taking 
 his outstretched hand, and dancing about him like a little 
 ballet-girl, while he slowly turned round and round. 
 
 " So it goes all day long," Helena complained. " No 
 need to hope for the quiet ordered by the doctor when those 
 two are together. Moreover, she ought to have country 
 air " She broke off and looked inquiringly at her step- 
 daughter. 
 
 Johanna's face flushed ; she felt that it was best to be frank 
 " How gladly I would ask you to leave the child with me!" 
 she replied. " But, kind and generous as iry grandfather is, he 
 
 20
 
 230 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 has not yet forgiven my mother's marriage, and detests any- 
 thing that can remind him of my father." 
 
 " You see, Helena, it is just as I told you," Batti in- 
 terrupted her ; adding, with a burst of rude laughter, " I 
 know it this aristocratic rubbish, stupid, haughty, narrow- 
 minded " 
 
 " Carlo 1" Helena whispered, with a glance towards Jo- 
 hanna. 
 
 He was not to be deterred, however. " What the deuce 
 are you grimacing about ?" he asked. " She" and he indi- 
 cated Johanna " is her father's daughter, and proud of her 
 name, is she not?" 
 
 " Indeed I am ; but I prize my grandfather too, and love 
 him dearly, dearly !" she replied, and her eyes flashed. 
 
 He made a face, then held out to her his brown hairy hand. 
 " You're the girl for me !" he exclaimed, seizing and almost 
 crushing her fingers in his grasp. " Out with whatever is in 
 your heart ! A great pity that you're going to marry. A 
 God-gifted creature like yourself belongs on horseback. And 
 down with the world !" He swung his arm as if it held a 
 riding- whip, by way of completing his sentence. 
 
 " Dear Johanna, you must not take amiss what he says," 
 Helena began, with a furtive smile. 
 
 " Let us alone, we understand each other !" he interrupted 
 her. And turning to Johanna, he continued : " Let us talk 
 together like friends. If your father, the actor, is unpopular 
 up there," pointing with his thumb over his shoulder 
 towards the castle, "I, the equestrian artist, must be still 
 more so. You need not reply : I know the talk. ' Players, 
 strollers, vagabonds,' that is the verdict passed upon us by 
 the aristocracy and the respectable public, the devil fly away 
 with them 1" 
 
 " Carlo 1" cried Helena. 
 
 His eyes flashed. " Am I to take it all quietly when such
 
 AN EQUESTRIAN ARTIST. 231 
 
 a stuck-up set turn me out of doors ? Me, Carlo Batti, re- 
 nowned in Paris, in Berlin, in St. Petersburg, as well as in 
 Vienna !" he shouted, angrily. " Come, we can stay here no 
 longer. I must go to Remmingen to look for some horses. 
 You will drive there with me." 
 
 " You said we might stay here, Uncle Carlo !" cried the 
 child, " I want to see the castle where my Johanna lives. 
 Mamma promised me I should." 
 
 Carlo laughed scornfully. " The castle, yes, you shall see 
 it, if only the outside," he said. Taking the child to the win- 
 dow, he continued: " Do you see that ugly old barn up there? 
 They call that the castle, and it is full of ugly old cats who 
 would eat you up, poor little mouse !" 
 
 His joke seemed to restore his good humour. He turned 
 to Johanna and said, " Drive with us to Remmingen. I am 
 sorry I have not my Mustapha here ; we might have a ride 
 together. But we must content ourselves with the hack. ' Need 
 drives the devil to eat flies. 1 " 
 
 Johanna hesitated to accept the invitation ; but Lisbeth 
 hung upon her arm and begged so hard, " Come with us, do !" 
 that her sister could not resist her. 
 
 There was no opportunity, however, for any quiet, un- 
 interrupted talk. While they were driving to Remmingen, 
 Carlo Batti held forth himself; and when he left them in the 
 inn there while he went to inspect some horses, Helena fell 
 upon Johanna's neck, exclaiming that she had been pining for 
 months for this moment, for the opportunity of unburdening 
 her heart. And then she wept for her Roderich, and adjured 
 Johanna not to consider her speedy second marriage as dis- 
 loyalty to him whom she ' had adored, and never could forget.' 
 " I was so helpless," she said ; " I felt lost in the wide, wide 
 world. You cannot imagine, dear Johanna, the trials and 
 hostilities to which an unprotected woman is exposed, particu- 
 larly when, liice myself, she is young, beautiful, and talented.
 
 232 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 You can have no idea of the intrigues and cabals with which 
 I was surrounded. The more gracious, yes, I might as well 
 confess, the more enthusiastic my reception was by the public, 
 the more virulent my rivals became. They took refuge behind 
 the critics, and slandered me to the public and to the man- 
 agement. Four times I obtained an engagement, and each 
 time they contrived to have it fail. If we had time, I could 
 tell you stories that would make your hair stand on end " 
 
 Thus she went on for a long while, and then began upon 
 Carlo Batti. " He is a wonderful man, and as kind as he is 
 clever. And how he loves me ! It is a perpetual surprise to 
 me, although I ought to be used to adoration. Nothing 
 seems to him good enough for me ; he loads me with gifts. 
 And how devoted he is to Lisbeth ! That was what first de- 
 cided me to marry him. It was my duty to insure to the 
 child a home and a father's protection. Was I not right ?" 
 
 To avoid a reply, Johanna bent over the little girl who 
 stood beside her, and her heart ached as she looked into 
 the pale little face. 
 
 " Do you think her changed ?" asked Helena. 
 
 " Very much ; she has grown pale and thin. How could 
 you allow such a frail little creature to appear in public ?" 
 
 " It did her no harm," Helena declared. " It was a simple 
 little juvenile ballet, the prettiest thing you can imagine. Ten 
 boys and ten girls in pink and silver " 
 
 " But I was the prettiest of all," Lisbeth interposed, and 
 her eyes sparkled ; " and I danced the best, too. Everybody 
 clapped their hands, and Uncle Carlo said that if I would take 
 pains I could be a great artist, and then I should always have 
 the loveliest clothes, and the others, who were not so pretty 
 as I, would be half dead with vexation." 
 
 Helena laughed. " You see how he turns the child's 
 head," she said ; but it was evident that she was pleased. 
 Johanua reflected with positive horror that if the child were
 
 AN EQUESTRIAN ARTIST. 233 
 
 left with these people, her inborn vanity would destroy the 
 germs of good in her heart. She must save the liHle one 
 from such a fate. Otto would let her have the child at, 
 Tannhagen. 
 
 Batti returned in an ill humour, because nothing had come 
 of the purchase of horses, and the bad beer and black bread of 
 the Kemmingen inn were not calculated to soothe his irritation. 
 Helena ought to have remembered to bring with them a couple 
 of bottles of wine and some cold meat ; but unless he himself 
 attended to everything, great and small, nothing was ever 
 done. Helena, who could not possibly submit to reproof, re- 
 plied crossly that she had not expected to breakfast at a village 
 inn, whereupon Batti angrily observed that another time she 
 would please to rely upon his knowledge of the world and of 
 human nature. He had from the first been averse to the d d 
 drive, and it was the last time he should accede to Helena's 
 silly schemes. 
 
 " Why the deuce do you want to force yourself upon people 
 who will have nothing to do with you ?" he shouted, striking 
 his clinched fist upon the table so that the glasses rang 
 again. 
 
 Helena exclaimed, in a voice trembling with anger, that she 
 had no idea of anything of the kind ; she had been admired 
 and sought for everywhere. But Batti did not allow her to 
 proceed ; he asked her with a sneer whether any one of the 
 aristocratic old dandies who had paid court to her had ever 
 asked her inside his doors or presented her to the women of 
 his family. Helena, as she always did when she had nothing 
 to reply, burst into tears, and Lisbeth looked terrified from 
 one to the other. " You say something, dear Johanna," she 
 whispered to her sister ; and Batti, who overheard her, seemed 
 suddenly to recollect his guest. 
 
 " Pardon me," he said, extending his hand to her. " I am 
 a rough fellow, but I mean no harm. It has been a great 
 
 20*
 
 234 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 pleasure to me to know you, and I am heartily grateful to my 
 wife for it." 
 
 Then he kissed Helena, who dried her tears. The little 
 girl sprang with a joyous shout into Uncle Carlo's outstretched 
 arms, and the party drove back to Db'nninghausen in peace 
 and harmony 
 
 Here there was a trying leave-taking. When Johanna had 
 the vehicle stopped upon the bridge, Lisbeth clung about her 
 neck, and would not release her. Her sister's assurance that 
 she should soon come to Tannhagen, and her step-father's 
 promise that she should dance in a white dress with golden 
 stars, were both needed to pacify her. And then Helena 
 pressed her handkerchief to her tearless eyes, embraced her 
 step-daughter, and over her shoulder breathed in plaintive 
 accents the assurance that it was long, long since she had 
 enjoyed anything so much as seeing her dear, dear Johanna 
 again. Finally Batti, who had sprung out of the coach to 
 assist her to alight, took her hand in both his. " Farewell !" 
 he cried, with the expression of child-like good humour which 
 well became his eager face. " You must not think that I speak 
 words of mere formality when I say that I am really yours to 
 command. If I can ever serve you, or assist you in any way, 
 curse me if it will not give me the greatest pleasure. I pray 
 you to believe me." 
 
 " I do believe you, and thank you cordially," she replied, 
 strangely touched by his words. Had she a presentiment that 
 she might some day stand in need of his proffered aid ? No 
 such thought occurred to her, she gave one more kiss to the 
 child, who stretched out her arms to her, and then Batti re- 
 entered the coach, the driver cracked his whip, the crazy 
 vehicle rattled off, aud Johanna gazed after it so long as 
 she could distinguish the fair, curly head stretched out of the 
 window.
 
 CHAPTER XXL 
 
 SHIPWRECK. 
 
 WHEN at last she turned to go home, Otto came walking 
 quickly towards her from the castle. He looked annoyed, 
 and asked, as he offered her his arm, " Where have you been 
 so long? I have been here an hour." 
 
 " Do not be angry with me," she begged. " Since, on grand- 
 papa's account, I could not ask my people to the castle, I 
 drove with them to Remmingen." 
 
 "Your people?" he repeated, sharply. "Do not forget, 
 my dear Johanna, that your people are to be found only 
 among the Donninghausens. Whoever does not belong to us 
 is nothing to you." 
 
 " Otto, I have a sister !" she exclaimed, half angry, half 
 wounded. 
 
 " The child of an equestrienne can be nothing to you." 
 
 " She is and always must be the child of my father. More- 
 over, my step-mother is not an equestrienne, rfhe is Carlo 
 Batti's wife." 
 
 " As if it were not the same thing ! Do you suppose onr 
 acquaintances would have regard for any such distinctions if 
 they were to see you with that woman ? But do not let us 
 quarrel about it ; your own good sense must tell you that my 
 betrothed our grandfather's grandchild cannot possibly 
 maintain any intercourse with those people." 
 
 Johanna was silent. This was not a favourable moment for 
 any mention of her wishes with respect to Lisbeth ; but the 
 longer she thought of to-day's meeting, the more necessary 
 
 285
 
 236 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 did it appear to her that the child should be removed from 
 the evil influences of those about her, not only for a while, 
 but permanently. How this was to be done she could not 
 tell, it could be possible only at Tannhagen. 
 
 Two days later Magelone returned to Donninghausen. She 
 was fresh and gay, had made some ' most delightful' ac- 
 quaintances, had danced a great deal, and generally enjoyed 
 herself ' hugely.' Otto teased her about her repeated use of this 
 adverb, ascribing her love for it to the ' husre dimensions' of 
 a certain captain, who had, according to Magelone, been one 
 of her most ardent admirers. 
 
 Merry as his teasing sounded, Magelone thought she de- 
 tected in it a certain jealous annoyance, which pleased her. 
 and she did her best to induce Otto to continue it, by con- 
 tinual descriptions of her social delights, a topic in which 
 Otto, who was familiar with the society in which his sisters 
 lived, was as much interested as herself. Moreover, he had 
 a taste for aristocratic gossip in general, and for Magelone's 
 graceful treatment of it in particular. How rude Johanna's 
 conversation and air seemed by comparison ! and what good 
 did it do for him to try not to compare ? The contrast forced 
 itself upon him all the more since Johanna, at present anx- 
 ious about her sister, and troubled, perhaps, by the sense of a 
 slight estrangement between Otto and herself, was graver 
 than her wont, while Magelone fairly sparkled with merri- 
 ment. 
 
 And she seemed to him more beautiful than ever. The 
 gleaming eyes, the fresh pouting lips, the lithe grace of her 
 figure, attracted him more than ever. The consciousness that 
 he must not yield to the attraction increased its force, and 
 Magelone saw this, and it pleased her to torment him. 
 
 One evening, while she was playing a little thing of Chopin's, 
 he, leaning against the grand piano, became absorbed in con- 
 templation of her. Suddenly she looked up. Their eyes met.
 
 SHIPWRECK. 237 
 
 " Do not look at me so," she whispered, continuing to pky, 
 while her cheek flushed crimson, as her look held fast his 
 own, and an evil smile of triumph hovered upon her half- 
 open lips. 
 
 On another occasion he said, suddenly dropping his jesting 
 for a passionate tone, " What a grief it is, Magelone, that we 
 cannot belong to each other!" She looked up at him 
 angrily ; then suddenly her eyes were veiled in sadness, and, 
 with a sigh, she turned and left him. 
 
 On both these occasions Johanna was seated only a few 
 steps from the pair, reading the papers aloud to her grand- 
 father. Otto came nigh to reproaching her in his heart for 
 her calm confidence in him. 
 
 Weeks passed by ; the spring in all its pomp and loveliness 
 had taken full possession of mountain and valley, but the 
 workmen at Tannhagen were so far behindhand that it was 
 necessary to postpone the marriage. The Freiherr, to whom 
 delay was always intolerable, for a few days after this postpone- 
 ment went about, as Magelone expressed it, like a hungry lion, 
 seeking to devour the poor workmen who had caused the 
 mischief. Otto, to whom she said this, laughed, but his 
 laughter was forced. 
 
 " Oh, the workmen are not to be the victims ; he has se- 
 lected me !" he replied. " That there may be no further delay, 
 I am to take up my abode to-morrow in Tannhagen to hasten 
 them. In that wilderness!" 
 
 " If I had only known it sooner 1" Magelone exclaimed. 
 " Elfrida invited me to Klausenburg for a few weeks ; she 
 wants me to help her to embroider your wedding-present, and 
 I said ' yes.' I depended upon you ! Now it will be stupid 
 enough." 
 
 Otto muttered an imprecation. " Can you not excuse your- 
 self?" he asked. 
 
 " Not possibly," she replied. " Grandpapa has given hia
 
 238 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 royal consent. And do you suppose it is much more amusing 
 here? A betrothed couple just before marriage I could 
 not stand it any longer 1" 
 
 She laughed mockingly, then her lips quivered, and, pressing 
 her handkerchief to her eyes, she turned to go from him. 
 
 Otto detained her. " I will not let you go !" he exclaimed, 
 in a low, passionate tone. " I will see the tears that make me 
 happy ! We will indemnify ourselves for this last piece of 
 good fortune of which chance tries to rob us. You will not 
 always be embroidering or walking with Elfrida. Since I 
 must be on service at Klausenburg for a part of every day, 
 we can meet daily in the forest, and see each other where all 
 these eyes are not upon us !" 
 
 He confronted her in a window-recess, and held both her 
 hands fast in his own. She tried to extricate herself. " Let 
 me go! let me go ! What you say is odious !" she whispered. 
 
 At this moment Johanna appeared. "Are you quarrelling 
 again ?" she asked. " What is the matter now ?" 
 
 " It is Otto's fault ; he is so rude. Poor Johanna, you will 
 have a hard time with him 1" Magelone said ; and as she passed 
 Otto she gave him a glance compounded of forgiveness and 
 provocation. 
 
 It had rained. The Freiherr, who dreaded the damp air, 
 retired to try to get a nap after the second breakfast, and Jo- 
 hanna, taking advantage of her liberty, had Elinor saddled, 
 and rode towards the Forest Hermitage to ask after Christine. 
 
 The lonely ride did her good. The weight that had of late 
 oppressed her heart, the vague sensation of estrangement be- 
 tween Otto and herself, vanished in the bright fulness of life 
 that encompassed her here in the forest on every hand. She 
 thirstily drank eager draughts of the. pungent air exhaled in 
 the sunshine by the drenched earth ; she listened delightedly 
 when amid the humming, buzzing, twittering, and chirping
 
 SHIPWRECK. 239 
 
 around her she distinguished the merry song of the finch, 
 the call of the wild dove, or the shrill, exultant note of the 
 black thrush as it echoed through the woods. The voices of 
 the birds awakened a thousand happy memories within her. 
 " Otto !" she whispered, and soul and body thrilled with 
 ecstasy. Yes, all doubt and suspicion were treachery, a siu 
 against the Giver of such ' good and perfect gifts.' 
 
 She rode on as in a dream, and yet her soul and sense were 
 never more alive and open to the rich life about her. Not a 
 note in the delicious symphony of spring escaped her ear ; no 
 play of colour was lost to her eye in the million glittering 
 drops tossed by the breeze from the branches. 
 
 Suddenly Leo began to bark, and Elinor pricked her ears. 
 There was a rustling in the bushes on one side of the way ; a 
 man appeared from them and lifted his cap. It was Red 
 Jakob. 
 
 Johanna reined in her horse. " Good-morning !" she said, 
 kindly. " How is Christine ? I am on my way to her." 
 
 " Thanks, gracious Fruleen ; she is better," he replied in an 
 undertone, as he came nearer. '' She does not sleep well at 
 night yet, but she gets rest during the day. She is asleep 
 now." And with a lowering glance he added, " Shall I waken 
 her, or will the gracious Fruleen wait awhile ? I could show 
 her a rare sight to pass the time." 
 
 Another time Johanna might have been warned by his ma- 
 licious grin not to heed him, but now she did not observe it, 
 and asked him where this wonder was to be found. 
 
 " Not far from here," he replied ; " but the gracious Fruleen 
 must dismount. I'll tie the horse, and then there is a little 
 climb up the rocks. She must not speak, and she must step 
 very softly, or she will spoil it all." 
 
 " 'Tis a bird's-nest," Johanna said, gayly. And springing 
 from her horse, she bade Leo stay by Elinor, and followed 
 Jakob along a path which seemed to be but seldom used, foi
 
 240 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 it was rank with weeds, and was obstructed by hanging 
 branches of the trees. Her guide cautiously opened and bent 
 back these to allow her to pass. Sometimes he looked round 
 and laid his finger on his lips, then crept on, while his eyes 
 sparkled and his sharp white teeth were buried deep in hia 
 under lip. 
 
 He reached a rocky turning, stooped to listen, and beckoned 
 to Johanna to approach. In an instant she stood beside him ; 
 he quickly tore asunder the bushes with his sound arm and 
 then retreated, leaving Johanna to confront, in measureless 
 amazement, Otto and Magelone. They were sitting upon a 
 low rock, clasped in each other's arms, and he was passionately 
 kissing her smiling lips. 
 
 Red Jakob's burst of discordant laughter aroused them 
 from their ecstasy. 
 
 " Johanna !" Otto cried, springing to his feet. 
 
 His voice dissolved the spell that had held her bound. 
 With a shudder she pressed her hands to her temples, and 
 when Otto would have grasped her arm she turned from 
 him and tried to flee back through the thicket. Mage- 
 lone, who had sat like one crushed, started up and hurried 
 after her. " Hear me ! hear me !" she cried, clutching at Jo- 
 hanna's riding-skirt. " I will not let you go so proudly, so 
 so " 
 
 " Magelone, hush, I conjure you !" Otto entreated. 
 
 She shook her head frantically. " No, no! I will speak at 
 last, and Johanna shall hear me. I have borne her falsehood 
 long enough ; her pride, her contemptuous airs I will not bear. 
 She shall blush before me me !" 
 
 And as she finished this sentence, which she uttered in 
 desperate haste, she relinquished her hold of Johanna's skirt, 
 stepped close to her side, and whispered in her ear, while her 
 glittering eyes were riveted upon the pale face, " Do you 
 know why he asked you to marry him ? To save me from
 
 SHIPWRECK. 241 
 
 grandpapa's anger. The note that fell into grandpapa's hands 
 was written for me for me ! Ask himself if this is not so." 
 
 Involuntarily Johanna's glance followed the direction of 
 Magelone's hand. Otto, very pale, his lips tightly com- 
 pressed, stood with his eyes bent on the ground. Magelone, 
 beside herself with shame and anger, grasped his arm and 
 shook it. " Speak !" she cried. " I require you on your 
 honour to tell the truth. For whom was the note intended ? 
 For whom ?" she repeated, as he took both her hands in 
 his. " You are cowardly and despicable if you do not speak 
 now. For whom was the note intended ?" 
 
 " For you," he said, sternly ; and then, almost flinging her 
 hands from him, he went up to Johanna. " Do not condemn 
 me !" he entreated. " Let me explain to you " 
 
 But she did not or would not hear him. She hurriedly 
 broke through the bushes, which closed behind her, and when 
 Otto would have followed her, a scream from Magalone re- 
 called him to where she knelt sobbing convulsively, gazing 
 wildly about her. He could not leave her alone thv,3. 
 
 ' Pray stand up, and do not cry," he said, impatiently, 
 seizing her hands. She obeyed like a terrified child: she 
 arose and dried her tears. 
 
 " What is to be done now ?" he asked. And when, instead 
 of answering, she only looked up at him with a helpless ex- 
 pression, he added, bitterly, " You must have had some end 
 in view in bringing about the scene that has just occurred." 
 
 " I ? End in view ?" she repeated. " Was it my fault that 
 we that Johanna appeared ?" 
 
 " Let us have no subterfuges 1" he hastily interrupted her. 
 " You know perfectly well that I do not allude to her ap- 
 pearance, but to the acknowledgment which, in your mad- 
 ness, you wrung from me. It is that which has made all 
 reconciliation impossible. Johanna might forgive a momen- 
 tary madness " 
 
 i y 21
 
 242 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 Magelone flushed. Could he say this to her ? "I did 
 not know you wished her to forgive 1" she exclaimed. 
 
 Without noticing the interruption, Otto continued : " And 
 I believe that I could have induced her to do so. She is 
 magnanimous and unselfish " 
 
 " Why, then, are you still here ?" Magelone interrupted him 
 again, and her eyes flashed. " Make haste, make haste, and 
 cast yourself into the arms of this magnanimous, unselfish 
 being ! At her feet, if need be." With a laugh, she turned 
 and would have left him. 
 
 He barred her way. " Stay !" he said, with decision. She 
 obeyed involuntarily. And as she stood before him with down- 
 cast eyes, and hands loosely clasped in front of her, he went 
 on, in a hard, stern tone : " You know perfectly well that 
 your revelations with regard to the reason for my betrothal 
 have made my marriage impossible. But have you also re- 
 flected that I lose at the same time my means of subsistence, 
 .und that after this scandal you also will find it impossible to 
 live on at Donninghausen as you have ' done ? Therefore I 
 :sk, What is to be done ?" 
 
 Magelone mutely shrugged her shoulders. After a pause, 
 Otto went on : " For us both you may be sure there remains 
 open only one of two courses : either we must together es- 
 cape immediately out into the wide world, and, unfortunately, 
 we have no means to enable us to do so, or we must go to our 
 grandfather like repentant sinners, throw ourselves upon his 
 mercy, and ask his aid. The quicker we do this the better. 
 Come, let us go instantly !" 
 
 With these words he would have taken her hand, but shj 
 recoiled from him. " No, I thank you !" she cried, in her old 
 mocking way. " I am not yet sunk so low as to accept 
 this sacrifice at your hands. Good heavens, what have I 
 done? Allowed a cousin to flirt rather too desperately 
 with me 1 Why, grandpapa and Johann Leopold will both
 
 SHIPWRECK. 243 
 
 easily forgive me this ' momentary madness. Do you not 
 think so ?" 
 
 Otto changed colour. " Possibly," he replied, with forced 
 composure. " Attempt your own rescue. Your skilful 
 hands will be doubly skilful in the recapture of the heir " 
 
 " And your magnanimous Johanna's heart doubly unselfish 
 when her possession of the name of Db'nninghausen is at stake," 
 Magelone interposed. And, with an easy inclination, she gath- 
 ered up her skirts and walked past Otto towards the rocky 
 incline which led from this spot down to Castle Klausenburg. 
 Her slender figure was poised for a second on the edge of the 
 cliffs, then glided into the thicket; once more there was a 
 glimpse of a fluttering blue ribbon, then it, too, vanished in 
 the depths of green, and Otto was left alone with his shame, 
 his indecision, his futile anger, his vague emotions. 
 
 At first it seemed intolerable to him to allow her to depart 
 thus. He would have hurried after her ; at least she should 
 know how he loathed and despised her. But he reflected 
 that in her vanity she would look upon his anger as an outbreak 
 of despair at her loss, while in reality he regarded it as a de- 
 liverance that she had rejected the aid he felt bound in honour 
 to offer her. 
 
 Instead of following her, he turned in the opposite direction, 
 and as he hurried back along the path which had so often led 
 him of late to meet her, memory recalled with torturing dis- 
 tinctness the coquettish arts by which she had sought to en- 
 slave him. And for the sake of this vain, heartless, calcu- 
 lating creature he had trifled away his own and Johanna^s 
 happiness ! Everything about his betrothed which had pre- 
 viously displeased him was forgotten by him. She now seemed 
 the embodiment of all goodness and loveliness. 
 
 Was she really lost to him ? If he went to her with a 
 frank confession of his folly and an appeal for forgiveness, 
 would she not forgive and forget ? Would she not be all the
 
 Z44 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 more likely to do so, knowing that his very means of exist 
 ence depended upon it? There was some satisfaction in the 
 fact to which Magelone had so scornfully refericd that he had 
 his name to bestow in exchange. He greatly preferreu giving 
 to receiving. The longer he reflected upon the state of af- 
 fairs the more he was persuaded that Johanna would lose 
 more than himself by breaking off their engagement. And 
 in this conviction he felt not only that he was justified in re- 
 jecting all proposals to terminate it, but that it was his duty to 
 do so. When he reached the cross-roads leading respectively 
 to Tannhagen and Donninghausen, he turned without hesita- 
 tion into the latter, that the ' wretched affair' might be ar- 
 ranged as soon as possible. He had even gone so far as to 
 resolve upon exercising the greatest patience and moderation 
 should Johanna, after the fashion of womankind, attach an. 
 exaggerated importance to his desperate flirtation. 
 
 But when, penetrated by the convincing force of his contem- 
 plated entreaties and representations, he reached Donning- 
 hausen and asked for Johanna, he learned that she had not yet 
 returned from her morning ride. What should he do, go to 
 meet her ? No ; a rider always had a pedestrian at a disadvan- 
 tage. He determined to wait for her. After giving orders 
 that he should immediately be informed of the Fraulein's re- 
 turn, he went into the park, to avoid any conversation with 
 Aunt Thekla. He had never before found waiting so difficult. 
 He tried to smoke, but after a couple of whiffs he threw his 
 aigar away. He paced up and down the avenue in growing 
 impatience, and, what was worst of all, his confidence dimin- 
 ished with every minute that passed. 
 
 Upon leaving Magelone and Otto, Johanna, unconscious 
 whither she was going, plunged into the forest. The birds 
 sang as before ; the quivering sunbeams played among the 
 tree-tops ; sparkling drops fell from the branches or shimmered 
 in the white anemones that were everywhere pushing forth
 
 SHIPWRECK. 245 
 
 out of last year's dry leaves. All this Johanna perceived 
 with a strange distinctness, but she felt aloof from it all, con- 
 fronted with one terrible consciousness which she could neither 
 appreciate nor name. 
 
 At last she reached the borders of the forest, and looked 
 around her with sad, dull eyes. Before her lay a deep stretch 
 of moorland ; below, in the valley, were the Db'nninghausen 
 moadows in their fresh green. Among them wound the road 
 to Klausenburg. She was familiar with it all, but it was no 
 longer what it had been, nor was she herself, nor life, the 
 same. Her heart was so weary and desolate, her tired feet 
 would bear her no farther. She threw herself down on the 
 heather with a sigh. Suddenly the bushes behind her 
 crackled and rustled. She looked round. It was Leo, who 
 rushed out and lay, whining for joy, at her feet. He leaped 
 up upon her, gazing at her wistfully out of his faithful eyes, 
 his faithful eyes ! The spell was broken ; all her misery 
 lay clearly revealed to her ; the sense of it filled her heart. 
 And, throwing her arms around the dog, who seemed to under- 
 stand his mistress's woe, she leaned her forehead upon his 
 neck and burst into bitter tears. 
 
 She was sitting weeping thus when Red Jakob and Chris- 
 tine, who had followed Leo, emerged from the thicket. Jakob 
 paused, but Christine ran to Johanna and threw herself upon her 
 knees beside her. Johanna raised her head. At sight of her 
 pale face and fixed melancholy eyes Christine's tears also flowed. 
 
 " Oh, dear Fraulein," she cried, " please, please do not be 
 angry ! Jakob has told me all. It was very wrong ; but in- 
 deed and in truth he did not mean ill " 
 
 " Never mind, Christine," Johanna interposed, rising and 
 wiping her eyes. 
 
 But the young wife "held her fast by her skirt and begged 
 all the more fervently : " Please do not lie angry with Jakob ; 
 please do not !" 
 
 21*
 
 246 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 He, too, now approached. " Christine, don't go on as if I 
 had committed a crime," he said, his tone and air betraying 
 increasing anger. " I could not look on and see how the 
 pair of them were deceiving our Fruleen. You know that 
 they did not meet for the first time to-day. And did I not see, 
 too, how the fine gentleman behaved to you ? Did I not see 
 it ?" With these words he raised his clinched fist and shr ok it. 
 
 " Oh, Jakob, you did not mean to speak of that !" Christine 
 said, in hergentle, soothingway. " A gentleman like that doesn't 
 mean anything when he jokes and laughs with one of us " 
 
 " But I mean something, curse him !" shouted Jakob 
 and the savage sparkle of his eyes gave him more than ever 
 
 the look of some beast of prey " I'll kill him like a dog " 
 
 He suddenly fell silent before Johanna's sad, reproachful 
 gaze. " Just like a wounded deer when it's dying," he said 
 to himself; and he added aloud, "Indeed, indeed I meant 
 well, if the Fruleen could only believe it !" 
 
 Johanna collected herself. " I believe it," she made an- 
 swer, after a short pause ; " and it is because I do so that I am 
 convinced that, for my sake, neither of you will tell any one 
 of what has passed." 
 
 " The Fruleen may rely upon us for that," said Jakob, 
 standing erect. And Christine, weeping, pressed her lips to 
 Johanna's hand. Johanna gently withdrew it from her clasp. 
 " I must go now," she said. " Which way had I better take 
 the soonest to find my horse ?" 
 
 Jakob offered to bring the horse. Christine might conduct 
 the Fruleen to the large beech-tree on the Donninghausen road, 
 and he would take Elinor to her. Johanna agreed, and Jakob 
 hurried off, while she followed her guide to the appointed spot. 
 
 Jakob soon appeared with the horse. Johanna jumped into 
 the saddle, hur. u ily bade the pair farewell, and galloped away. 
 
 " As if death w ere behind her," Christine thought, as she 
 gazed anxiously after her until the trees hid her from sight.
 
 CHAPTEE XXII. 
 
 DONNINGHAUSEN OBSTINACY. 
 
 WHEN Johanna reached Db'nninghausen, old Martin in- 
 formed her that Squire Otto had been waiting for her a long 
 while. For a moment she gazed at the old man, as if she had 
 not understood him ; then she replied, " I can see no one," 
 and wearily went up the castle steps. 
 
 Martin shook his head as he looked after her, and as soon 
 as he had taken Elinor to the stables betook himself to the 
 park to inform Otto that the Fraulein had returned. 
 
 " The Fraulein looked as white as the wall," he added, with 
 the familiarity of a man who had been a servant in the house 
 for more than forty years. " And her eyes were twice the 
 size they usually are. Sure she must be ill 1" 
 
 Otto muttered an imprecation. He could not possibly go 
 away without further question ; to do so would give rise to all 
 sorts of commentaries by the servants. Besides, the bell was 
 just ringing for the second breakfast ; not to obey its sum- 
 mons would be regarded by his grandfather as a transgression 
 of the rules of the house, and it was more than ever incum- 
 bent upon Otto to keep the old man in good humour. 
 
 " This is another of my unlucky days. I should like to 
 know whether other men have as much to bear as I," he said to 
 himself as he walked towards the castle. "I wonder how 
 Johanna will receive me ? She cannot yet have told my grand- 
 father anything, and she will have at least to control herself. 
 Perhaps it is best it should be so. The necessity of preserv- 
 ing appearances may bring her to her senses." 
 
 247
 
 248 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 But his hopes proved fallacious ; Johanna did not appear. 
 Aunt Thekla reported, with an anxious face, that hearing that 
 Johanna was prevented by a violent headache from coming to 
 breakfast, she had been to look after her, and had found her 
 terribly pale. 
 
 " She was lying on the lounge," the old lady went on, " with 
 hjr eyes closed, and could only say, in a faint voice, ' All I 
 want, dear aunt, is rest 1' I thought the fresh air would do 
 her good ; but when I began to draw aside the curtains she 
 started up, begging me not to do so, but to leave her in dark- 
 ness : she did not wish to see or to hear anything ; and then 
 she sank back and lay perfectly quiet." 
 
 " Have you sent for the doctor ?" the Freiherr interposed. 
 
 " No ; she forbade it ; I can't tell why. Her indisposition is 
 her own fault; she has been taking one of those wild rides 
 again, and does not want to confess it. Indeed, dear Johann, 
 you must forbid her riding so much." 
 
 " Nonsense !" cried the Freiherr. " What has riding to do 
 with it? You women could not exist without your head- 
 aches. Johanna is following the fashion. But what the deuce 
 is the matter with you, lad ?" he blurted out, turning to Otto, 
 half laughing, half vexed. " Letting every dish pass you un- 
 
 tasted, and looking like have you a headache out of 
 
 pure sympathy ? Don't drive me altogether wild !" 
 
 Otto tried to control himself; but Aunt Thekla's suspicions 
 had been aroused and would not be laid to rest. After break- 
 fast, while the Freiherr was reading the papers, she drew Otto 
 into one of the window-recesses, and said, with decision, 
 " Something has occurred between Johanna and you. Tell 
 me what it is. You know how I love you both." 
 
 Otto would have refused to satisfy her anxiety ; but when 
 he looked into his aunt's kind, pleading eyes, he remembered 
 how often he had as a boy appealed to her, and never in vain, 
 for aid, and it struck him that he could find no better inter-
 
 OBSTINACY. 249 
 
 cessor. " You are right, my dear aunt," he replied, kissing her 
 hand. " I will make my confession to you, hard though it is. 
 You are my last, my sole hope, and you will help me, I 
 know, and not reproach me. Heaven knows I do that enough 
 myself!" And he told her, briefly, and with as much frank- 
 ness as he could command, the history of his betrothal, and of 
 to-day's wretched scene in the forest. 
 
 The old lady listened with the most painful and contradic- 
 tory sensations. Her integrity, her sense of honour, were out- 
 raged by the treachery of Otto's and Magelone's conduct towards 
 Johanna, and yet her warm, kindly heart could not forbear 
 pitying Otto in the midst of his complaints and self-reproaches, 
 and her stern loyalty to the Donninghausens impressed upon 
 her the conviction that now, as at all other times, the first 
 consideration was the preservation of the honour of the name. 
 She was quite ready, at Otto's request, to undertake the task 
 of reconciliation, and went up to see Johanna. 
 
 The curtains were still closed, but Johanna was no longer 
 lying down. With hands clasped in front of her, she was 
 restlessly walking to and fro. When the door opened, she 
 turned and came towards it. 
 
 " My poor, dear child," Aunt Thekla began, but paused in 
 dismay, as, even in the dim light, she distinguished the ex- 
 pression of Johanna's countenance. Not a trace was to be seen 
 of weakness or of need of sympathy: the pale face was as if 
 carved in marble. Nothing that the old lady had prepared to 
 say would fit this occasion. 
 
 "Are you better?" she asked at last, to put an end to the 
 distressing silence. 
 
 " Yes, dear aunt ; do not trouble yourself about me," Jo- 
 hanna replied, with forced composure. 
 
 Auc; Thekla sighed. It grieved her that the young girl had 
 so little confidence in her, but it should not deter her. " Come, 
 sit down by me; I want to talk witb. you," she said, taking
 
 250 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 her seat on the lounge. And when Johanna mechanically 
 obeyed, she added, "You need put no force upon yourself; 
 Otto has made a frank confession to me." 
 
 " Scarcely frank !" Johanna said, contemptuously. 
 
 " You do him injustice !" Aunt Thekla cried. " He said 
 not one word to excuse himself; on the contrary, he accused 
 himself bitterly. If you could have heard how he repents and 
 longs for your forgiveness, you would grant it him with all 
 your heart." 
 
 " I cannot," Johanna said, without looking up. 
 
 " Oh, do not say that ! You not only can, but you must for- 
 give. Do we not pray every day, ' Forgive us our trespasses 
 as we forgive them that trespass against us' ?" 
 
 " I cannot," Johanna repeated. 
 
 For a while both were silent ; then Aunt Thekla looked up 
 timidly at her niece and said, " Do not misunderstand me 
 if I continue to plead for Otto. I sympathize with you ; I 
 can understand how his folly has offended you." 
 
 " Offended, do you call it ?" Johanna interrupted her. 
 " He has insulted me, and poisoned my life and my soul !" 
 
 " So it seems to you now," said her aunt. " But you 
 will learn to regard it differently ; you will feel otherwise and 
 judge otherwise. Believe me, my child, Otto is worthy your 
 forgiveness, and he loves you so " 
 
 Johanna sprang to her feet. " Aunt, I cannot listen to 
 you !" she cried, pressing her hands to her throbbing temples. 
 " You forget that a few hours ago I saw with my own eyes 
 
 that Otto that Magelone And you talk of forgiveness. 
 
 of love 1 Oh, everything is hateful in my sight 1 life my- 
 Belf " 
 
 She sank into a chair, and, with a groan, covered her eyes 
 with her hand. 
 
 Aunt Thekla shed tears, and, after a long pause, went 
 on : " If you would Jet me talk to you, I know I could
 
 DGNNINGHAUSEN OBSTINACY. 251 
 
 do you good. I do not want to torment you ; I only want to 
 repeat Otto's message to you. ' Tell Johanna' these are his 
 very words ; but to appreciate them you should have seen the 
 entreaty in his eyes and heard the tone of his voice ' tell 
 Johanna that I love her more than ever ; that I have loved 
 her from the moment when I first knew her ' " 
 
 " Oh, aunt !" Johanna broke in upon her words, " can 
 you tell me that ? Can you suppose that can console me ? If 
 he had told me that Magelone's charms were irresistible for 
 him, and had extinguished his love for me, I could have 
 understood him, and without reproaching him I should have 
 submitted as to the inevitable. But since he has deceived 
 Magelone and lied to her as he has to me, where shall I 
 look for truth ? What can I believe ? Where find a stay ?" 
 
 The old lady had no fitting reply to this. " I wish you 
 could see matters in another light," she said, after a long pause 
 for reflection ; " and I hope you will do so in time. But now 
 what is to be done if you refuse Otto's entreaty for forgive- 
 ness ? Of course my brother must learn nothing of this ." 
 
 Johanna looked at her in amazement. " Learn nothing ?" 
 she repeated. " You do not suppose that I can marry Otto ? 
 Magelone has taken my place." 
 
 " Child, I told you that Otto does not love Magelone," 
 Aunt Thekla replied. " And she does not love him, n-jt 
 enough at least to endure for his sake her grandfather's anger." 
 And, clasping Johanna's hands in her own, the old lady added, 
 with tearful, imploring eyes, " Think what you are doing. 
 The happiness or misery of the whole family is in your 
 hands. If you cannot forgive, Johann Leopold will lose hia 
 betrothed, Otto's and Magelone's lives will be ruined, whether 
 they marry or not, and my brother, who has made the happi- 
 ness and honour of his house his sole care, will see it in 
 his old age brought to disgrace " 
 
 " If I could but spare him !" exclaimed Johanna. Here at
 
 252 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 last was a word spoken in kindness. Aunt Thekla took 
 courage again. " You can if you choose," she said, and dried 
 her eyes. " Believe me, child, those who forgive are blessed 
 indeed when they can forgive and forget." 
 
 " Forgive and forget !" Johanna repeated. " Yes, it would 
 be a blessing ; but forgetfulness cannot be forced, and if I 
 could forgive and overcome in myself all bitterness, the old 
 confidence would not return " 
 
 ' Only try it !" Aunt Thekla interrupted her. " How many 
 women have forgiven some fickleness or unfaithfulness in their 
 lovers and have been happy wives ! Remember, ' Love beareth 
 all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all 
 things.' " 
 
 " And ' rejoiceth in the truth,' " Johanna said, her feat- 
 ures taking on their former rigidity. " An error might be 
 forgotten, but what separates Otto and myself forever is hi? 
 falsehood. If you knew how degraded I feel by it; how petty, 
 suspicious, evil-minded it makes me. To shield Magelone and 
 himself from his grandfather's anger he betrothed himself to 
 me ; for the same reason he seeks a reconciliation with me now ; 
 and perhaps who knows? the possession of Tannhagen adds 
 weight to the scale. Tell me yourself, Aunt Thekla, can I 
 regard as my lord and master the man of whom I think thus ?" 
 
 Johanna arose, went to the window, and drew aside the 
 curtains. There it was again, the pitiless sunshine. It reached 
 her very heart through her eyes, and revealed the lovely and yet 
 terrible picture of the pair beneath the forest shades. If she 
 could but be spared that sight ! She would rather see nothing, 
 nothing. 
 
 A light touch roused her. Aunt Thekla had followed her, 
 and now laid her hand upon her arm. " What answer shall 
 I take to Otto ?" she asked. " Be kind, be sensible. Reflect ; 
 the banns are to be published for the first time the day after 
 to-morrow "
 
 OBSTINACY. 253 
 
 " It must not come to that !" Johanna interrupted her. 
 " Tell Otto that I agree to any method by which he, without 
 implicating Magelone or himself, can dissolve our engage- 
 ment " 
 
 " You are terrible !" cried Aunt Thekla. " Yours is the 
 obstinacy of our race, only turned against the Donninghausens. 
 But this cannot be your final decision. You will be calmer ; 
 you will see that you must overcome your pride, your just 
 indignation. Stay in your room ; I will tell my brother that 
 you need rest, and you must promise me not to be overhasty. 
 Pray promise me this." 
 
 " Rest assured I will do nothing that can injure Otto," said 
 Johanna. " As I told you, he himself may arrange every- 
 thing. I will take the blame of the break upon myself. Now 
 let us say no more about it, dear aunt ; I really can no more." 
 
 How sad and weary was the face which had been wont to 
 look so fresh and glad! Aunt Thekla's eyes filled with tears. 
 ' ; If I could only do something for you !" she said. " It is 
 dreadful to leave you so alone ; but Otto is waiting for an 
 answer " 
 
 " Otto, always Otto !" Johanna thought, bitterly ; but the 
 next moment she banished the thought, and replied in a gentler 
 tone than she had used hitherto, " Do not mind me ; it is 
 best for me to be alone !" 
 
 The old lady still lingered. " I hope you have not mis- 
 understood me. You know I have your happiness at heart." 
 
 Johanna fell upon her neck. " You are kind. You will bear 
 with me," she whispered. 
 
 Aunt Thekla left her easier in her mind. She would have 
 patience if only the two might be brought together again in 
 the end. And they surely would be if Otto could only plead 
 his own cause. He would do better, perhaps, to-day to leave 
 Johanna to her reflections ; to-morrow she would be calmer, 
 more accessible ; he could come again then. 
 
 22
 
 254 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 But whilst Aunt Thekla was resigning herself to the hope 
 of a reconciliation, and even Otto's doubts were partially over- 
 come, Johanna's condition of mind was the same. She had 
 been thrust forth from her paradise, and even although she 
 should force herself to forgive, it would not affect the dissolu- 
 tion of her engagement. 
 
 Yes, all must be changed. To go on in the old way was 
 impossible. What was she to do ? Where should she go ? 
 To Lindenbad? And it occurred to her that upon her return 
 from her ride a letter from Ludwig had been handed her, or 
 had she dreamed it ? No ; there it lay upon her writing-table : 
 a thick, soiled envelope, covered with stamps and addresses. 
 
 She opened it. It was an old letter, the one written in 
 answer to the announcement of her betrothal. 
 
 Ludwig wrote : 
 
 " DEAR JOHANNA, I know that it is the fashion to reply 
 to the announcement of a betrothal by congratulations, but 
 I should be false to myself and to the love I bear you were I 
 to conceal beneath any set, formal phrases my feelings and 
 opinions upon the present occasion. I trust you have sufficient 
 confidence in me to believe in the honesty of my intentions, 
 even although you differ from me in sentiment. 
 
 " Then let these lines warn you, and admonish you to ask 
 yourself more seriously than you have done hitherto whether 
 it is really possible for this man to satisfy your demands upon 
 life, to fill your heart, to understand and keep pace with you ? 
 I, who know you better than any one else knows you, 1 de- 
 clare that this is not possible, and I pray you to open your eyea 
 before you are irrevocably bound. By marriage with this man 
 you condemn yourself to a life of loneliness and renunciation. 
 
 " You know this yourself. Does not your letter, written in 
 the first joy of your betrothal, speak of a ' want' in your 
 happiness? Your recalling of this word afterwards cannot
 
 DdNNINGHA USEN OBST1NA CY. 255 
 
 weaken its significance. In your inmost soul you feel that you 
 are about to take a wrong step, and the instinct of your heart, 
 which is ' beyond all reason,' warns you to pause. 
 
 " I shall never forgive myself for not being beside you to aid 
 this instinct. I could not but foresee what has happened. 
 I knew how it would be, and I left you in anger, with my 
 Belf-love grievously wounded, while it was my duty, as well 
 as my right, to say to you, ' You belong to me, and I will not 
 leave you.' 
 
 " I say this now, and my life will prove to you how seri- 
 ously I say it. If you persist in the wretched course which 
 threatens to separate us utterly, I vow solemnly to you, and to 
 myself, that you never again shall hear these words from me. 
 but you will find me whenever and however you may need me. 
 
 " It is my own fault that I have lost you. When I went 
 to you at your father's, and found that you had outgrown the at- 
 mosphere of my father's house, I thrust you from me in way- 
 ward, boyish folly, when I ought to have taken you in my arms 
 and sought to win you from all that estranged you from me. 
 
 " Why do I say this to you now ? Because I would have 
 you know me thoroughly, and would set you an example of 
 absolute confidence. We human beings should lighten our 
 trials greatly if we shrank less from confessing to ourselves 
 and to others our errors, our defeats, our miscalculations. Let 
 me hope that you are free from the vanity and cowardice that 
 would lead you so to shrink. Do not close your eyes ; and if 
 you see that you have been overhasty, redeem the error be- 
 , fore it be too late. Above all, do not fancy that you must 
 hold to your plighted troth for your betrothed's sake. As I 
 know him, not all your love can make him happy. 
 
 " Will you accuse me of harshness in saying this? Be it 
 BO. I cannot look on with a feigned smile, or even in silence, 
 when I see you going to your destruction. 
 
 " But can I be mistaken ? The fact that this man, amid
 
 256 A NOliLE NAME. 
 
 the puppets by which he has been surrounded, has Known 
 how to find the way to you, makes me waver iu my 
 estimate of him. Certainly I will not close my mind to a 
 better opinion of him ; and should you continue to find him 
 worthy of your love, and should he prove himself capable of 
 appreciating you and of making you happy, I will acknowledge 
 his right to possess you as unhesitatingly as I now challenge it. 
 
 " November 10, 1874. 
 
 " Since writing the above I have spent days and nights 
 partly in the hospitals, partly in the poorest quarter of Bombay. 
 I have been at home now for several hours, and, refreshed by 
 a bath, sleep, and food, I shall return to my patients as soon 
 as I have despatched this letter. The occupation of these 
 last few weeks the old, ruinous portion of the city has been 
 attacked by an epidemic explains the tone of my letter. 
 All shams seem more intolerable to me than ever before. 
 Health of body and mind seems to me a supreme good, and I 
 am consequently forced as well to warn the thoughtless who 
 may be exposing themselves uselessly to the peril of deadly 
 miasma as to undertake the treatment of organizations already 
 diseased. It is in this sense that I send you my note of 
 warning. Harsh as it may sound in your ears, take it as from 
 a physician, without any false sensitiveness. I expect an 
 answer to it only in case my words have made some impres- 
 sion upon you. If you say nothing of this letter, I shall take 
 it for granted that I have been mistaken, or that *he truth 
 wearies you, and shall never, unless you yourself iesire it, 
 allude to the subject again. 
 
 " I am still in doubt as to the time of my retur: It was 
 fixed at first for next March or April. If I can be of use to 
 you I will come earlier, come instantly if you write that you 
 wish me to do so. Otherwise I shall probably remain longer 
 away. And even should I return to Europe, I shall not see my 
 borne or yourself until the wound from which I am now suf-
 
 DdNNJNGHAUSEN OBSTINACY. 257 
 
 fering is scarred over, or until you need the counsel or aid 
 of your brother LUDWIQ." 
 
 " No, no aid from him /" Johanna said to herself, as she 
 folded the letter again. The thought of letting him know 
 how she suffered was intolerable to her why she did not 
 know, and did not ask. Not for one moment did she doubt 
 Ludwig's affection, magnanimity, and efficiency, and yet she felt 
 doubly humiliated since reading his verdict with regard to Otto. 
 
 " No, no aid from him !" she repeated. But this being 
 so, she could not go to Lindenbad, and where else should 
 she seek an asylum ? Ah, how hard it was, besides, to tear 
 herself away from this place, where, in spite of everything, 
 she had found a home ! True, it needed but a word from her 
 to insure her this home still, but at what a price ! Aunt 
 Thekla was right : her grandfather's last days must not be 
 poisoned. And how could Johanna continue to dwell in the 
 home whose peace she had destroyed, and whose children she 
 had driven forth and made unhappy? She knew, too, that it 
 would pain her grandfather to part from her, but he would 
 find her leaving him ' thanklessly' easier to bear than the dis- 
 covery that Otto and Magelone were unworthy of his name 
 and his affection. She pondered and reflected, always with 
 the same result. She must go, and upon her must rest the blame 
 of the separation. How she should contrive this, and whither 
 she should turn, she did not know, but she would discover. 
 
 The day passed. Aunt Thekla sent up to inquire after her 
 repeatedly ; had food and refreshments taken to her ; wanted to 
 know whether she should come herself; but Johanna begged 
 her to let her be alone for the day ; and at last, as if crushed 
 in body and mind, she had thrown herself upon her bed. 
 
 And then the night drew on, a night without sleep, in 
 which the hours dragged slowly, each throb of her heart 
 seeming to increase the dull pain jeneath which her very soul 
 r 22*
 
 2i>8 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 writhed as if in mortal agony. And then the moonlight 
 came, and quivered on the walls and ceiling, as in those lovely 
 nights when each waking moment was delight and each fall- 
 ing asleep again brought sweet dreams. Then the cocks 
 crowed, and the cold, gray light of dawn made all things look 
 more than ever dreary ; and then began the shrill, discordant 
 twittering of the sparrows. 
 
 Four o'clock struck in the tower of the castle, and immedi- 
 ately afterward a low, shuffling step was heard on the stair, 
 and there was a cautious knock at Johanna's door. 
 
 '' Who is there ?" the young girl asked. 
 
 " A telegram for Friiulein Johanna," the housekeeper's 
 voice made reply. 
 
 Johanna threw a shawl about her shoulders, received the 
 blue envelope, took it to the window, and read : 
 
 " Lisbeth is dangerously ill, and is constantly calling for you. 
 Pray come. HELENA." 
 
 For a moment the girl felt stunned ; then she collected 
 herself. She at once took her resolution. The early train 
 for Hanover left Thalrode at six ; she had time to catch it. 
 
 She dressed herself, hastily packed up the necessary clothing, 
 and ordered the carriage. Then she wrote a hurried note to 
 Otto: "I have just received a telegram summoning me to 
 Hanover to the bedside of my little sister. I leave by the 
 next train, and thus afford you a plausible excuse for the dis- 
 solution of our betrothal. You can scarcely marry a wife 
 from beneath the roof of an ' equestrian artist.' The recon- 
 ciliation which you proposed to me through Aunt Thekla is 
 impossible. I have lost all confidence in you, and you would 
 never forgive me for the scene in the forest. I must leave 
 you to make the necessary explanations to my grandfather, 
 and I bid you farewell in the fullest sense of the word."
 
 D&NNINGHAUSEN OBSTINACY. 259 
 
 With this letter she went to Aunt Thekla. The old lady 
 was still in bed, but wide awake. She, too, had been unable 
 to sleep from anxiety. 
 
 " My child, what does this mean ?" she asked, when she 
 saw Johanna appear in her travelling-dress. 
 
 Johanna handed her the telegram, told her that she was 
 going instantly to Hanover, and begged he'r to take charge of 
 the letter for Otto. 
 
 "Drive off! without my brother's consent !" Aunt Thekla 
 said, possessed by a foreboding of evil. " How can you ? 
 You will come back again soon ?" 
 
 Johanna turned away. " Do not make my heart heavier 
 than it is," she begged. 
 
 Aunt Thekla burst into tears. " You must not go I" she cried, 
 clasping Johanna's hands tightly. " I will not let you go 1" 
 
 The young girl gently extricated herself. " I must, dear 
 aunt ; I must go to Lisbeth," she said. 
 
 " But Otto will follow you ; will bring you back again." 
 
 Johanna shook her head. " He will see that we must part," 
 she whispered. " But do not let me be exiled and quite for- 
 gotten ; write to me " 
 
 The maid appealed : " Fraulein Johanna, the carriage is 
 waiting." 
 
 Once more aunt and niece embraced. " Bid grandpapa a 
 thousand, thousand farewells for me. Try to persuade him to 
 forgive me. Think kindly of me," Johanna sobbed. 
 
 Then she hurried out into the corridor, past her grand- 
 father's door, where Leo arose in surprise, and seemed to ask 
 if he might accompany her. 
 
 Johanna signed to him to lie down, and, with her handker- 
 chief pressed to her lips, hurried down the stairs, and threw her- 
 self into a corner of the carriage ; the door was closed, the horses 
 started. Her dream of love and happiness was at an end.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 THE FREIHERR ASSERTS HIS AUTHORITY. 
 
 WHEN the Freiherr heard of Johanna's departure, he had for 
 tbft moment no thought save of the insult it offered to his author- 
 ity. But when his first anger had passed away, he said to him- 
 self that it might mean something more than merely anxiety for 
 her little sister. Johanna's absence from meals on the pre- 
 vious day, Otto's conduct, Thekla's distressed face, all taken 
 together suggested to the Freiherr some disagreement between 
 the lovers. He determined to question Otto himself upon the 
 subject, and made Tannhagen the goal of his morning ride. 
 
 When half-way there, he met Otto. Aunt Thekla had sent 
 him Johanna's note, and he was betaking himself to consult 
 with her as to what was to be done. He was startled whea 
 at a turn of the road he perceived the tall figure of the Frei- 
 herr upon his gray gelding. He could not avoid him, so, 
 summoning all his courage, he rode towards him. 
 
 "Do you know that Johanna has gone off?" his grand- 
 father asked him after their first salutations, and as he spoke 
 his gaze seemed to pierce the young man's very soul. 
 
 " So she writes me," he replied, trying in vain to appear 
 indifferent under the Freiherr's gaze. 
 
 " Indeed ! I should like to know something more about it. 
 Ride back with me to Donninghausen," said the Freiherr, 
 turning his horse that way. " And now, frankly, what haa 
 occurred between you ?" 
 
 " Really, sir, I do not know. I should not liko to ac- 
 cuse " Otto stammered. 
 
 260
 
 THE FREIHERR ASSERTS HIS AUTHORITY. 261 
 
 " Have I asked you to ?" the Freiherr exclaimed, impa- 
 tiently. " I only wish to know whether the silly child's flight 
 is your fault ; and if it is, you will go after her and bring your 
 foolish lady fair back again." 
 
 Otto was startled. " Indeed, sir " he began, hesi- 
 tatingly. 
 
 The Freiherr interrupted him : " Deuce take you, lad, 
 what kind of a face is that to wear ? You look as if I were 
 Bending you after the devil's grandmother instead of in pur- 
 suit of a silly child who has wellnigh lost, on your account, 
 the atom of woman's wit that she possessed !" Then he 
 added, more seriously, " You can tell her that this time mercy 
 shall wait on justice, but there must be no more ^capades. 
 Of course you must have your quarrels, lover" eannot live 
 without them, but you will please to keep them to your- 
 selves. I beg you to arrange them so that I and the peace of 
 my household shall not be implicated." 
 
 For a while they rode along silently side by side. Otto, 
 who had been too self-occupied to have any correct idea of 
 Johanna's state of mind, had read her note with mingled as- 
 tonishment and indignation. He did not divine the pain 
 concealed beneath the apparent calm of her words ; he only 
 saw that she could give him up. He thought her conduct 
 hard, cold, and selfish, and he held himself absolved by the 
 scandal she had caused from all duties towards her, and en- 
 tirely justified in exculpating himself as best he might. She 
 had expressly required that he should give their grandfather 
 a credible explanation of their separation. He would do so. 
 
 " My dear grandfather," he said, after he had taken time 
 for reflection, " as matters stand, I find to my regret that I 
 must acquaint you somewhat with the cause of the present 
 disagreement between Johanna and myself." 
 
 " Be brief, then !" the Freiherr exclaimed. " Give me the 
 principal facts. I cannot stand childish bickerings."
 
 262 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 11 Just as you please," Otto replied, his task tlius made more 
 easy. " The first as well as the last cause is Johanna's posi- 
 tion with regard to her step-mother's unfortunate second 
 marriage. I require her to break at once and forever with 
 the family of the ' equestrian artist.' She refuses to do so, 
 and takes the first opportunity that offers to bid defiance to 
 my wishes and requests." 
 
 " Nonsense !" the Freiherr cried, angrily. " I ought to have 
 been told this. But she can be brought to reason. You" can 
 go for her *' 
 
 " To the house of a circus-rider ! Never !" Otto declared, 
 with an amount of resolution that the next moment surprised 
 himself. 
 
 His grandfather's eyes flashed, but he seemed to reflect be- 
 fore saying, " There is something in that." And then, after 
 another pause, he added, " We will write. I will give her the 
 choice between Db'nninghausen and these people, and you can 
 tell her whatever seems to you just and kind. If she should 
 then perceive her folly, let the whole stupid affair be forgotten." 
 
 They rode the rest of the way in silence. As soon as 
 they reached Donninghausen, the Freiherr seated himself at 
 his writing-table, and wrote thus ; 
 
 " DEAR JOHANNA, When my sister told me of your de- 
 parture this morning, I thought you wanting in respecl to 
 leave us as you did, without asking my permission, especially 
 as you were going to people with whom I do not wish to have 
 the slightest degree of intercourse. By way of excuse for 
 you, I reflected that anxiety for your little sister had probably 
 caused you to disregard for the moment the duty you owe to 
 me and to the rules of my household. I take a different view 
 of the matter now that I learn that your intercourse with the 
 family of this circus-rider has been for some time the cause 
 of serious disagreement between Otto and yourself. At first
 
 THE FREIHERR ASSERTS HIS AUTHORITY. 263 
 
 he was reluctant to explain, but upon my urgent desire to 
 know the truth he has told me all. You know, my child, 
 how much I love you, and how willing I am to have you act 
 as you see fit ; but here you are wrong and must submit. The 
 honour of our family requires that you should sever all for- 
 mer ties. Come back, then, as soon as you can. Otto, whom 
 I wished to send for you, declares that he cannot take you 
 from the house of a circus-rider, which proves to me that he 
 is more of a Donninghausen than I thought him. In your 
 veins also flows the blood of our race, and I expect you to 
 show yourself worthy of it. In spite of your mother's errors 
 we have received you into the family as one of us, and we 
 must now require you to have no further connection with 
 your father's former wife and her child. Only explain to 
 Otto that you are ready to agree to this, and all will be 
 smooth again between you. Should your step-sister be seri- 
 ously ill, I do not require you to leave her immediately ; but 
 you must do so as soon as you are relieved concerning her, 
 and in the mean time you will carefully avoid appearing in 
 public with any member of the circus-rider's family. Answer 
 particularly at what time you intend to return, and accept the 
 cordial good wishes of your affectionate grandfather, 
 
 " JOHANN FREIHERR v. DONNINGHAUSEN." 
 
 The Freiherr gave this letter to Otto to read and to supple- 
 ment, saying, " I have told the silly child what I require 
 without circumlocution ; now you can sweeten the pill of obe- 
 dience to her as you please. You need not tone down what 
 you want to say. I will not read what you write. Love-letters 
 are interesting only to those for whom they are composed." 
 
 Would he have considered the following a love-letter ? 
 
 " Your hasty departure, dear Johanna, has unfortunately 
 still further complicated matters. If you only would have
 
 264 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 granted me an interview, you would have forgiven me, 1 
 feel sure, and the delightful relations existing between our 
 grandfather and yourself need not have been disturbed by 
 any discord. But I have no idea of reproaching you. I 
 only entreat you, as earnestly as I can, to deliver me 
 from the false position you have forced me to take to our 
 grandfather. One word of forgiveness and a promise to re- 
 turn, and all will be well. Think of the happy hours we have 
 passed together, of the fair future that lies before us, and 
 believe in the repentance and love of your 
 
 " OTTO." 
 
 Aunt Thekla also wrote a long letter, in which some pas- 
 sages were almost obliterated by her tears, repeating everything 
 that she had said on the previous day, and then the epistles 
 were all despatched, and the Freiherr awaited with certainty 
 the answer he desired. 
 
 A letter from Johanna to her grandfather arrived after a 
 week's delay, with an enclosure for Aunt Thekla, but not a 
 line for Otto. 
 
 The Freiherr's letter ran thus : 
 
 " DEAR GRANDFATHER, Since receiving your letter I 
 have passed the days and nights in terrible anxiety beside my 
 little sister's bed. Her disease is nervous fever, and she was 
 at first dangerously ill, but the fever is gradually, I trust, 
 subsiding, and I am apparently able to take more repose. 
 But only apparently, for since I have been somewhat easier 
 in mind with regard to Lisbeth I have been all the more 
 miserable with regard to myself; and if I have at last ar- 
 rived at a conclusion, it is with no sense of victory, and my 
 heart trembles as well as my hand while I write that I can- 
 not return to Donninghausen. If Otto means to propose to 
 me the alternative of severing myself either from you or from
 
 THE FREIHERR ASSERTS HIS A UTHORITY. 2G5 
 
 my father, whose memory I cherish in those he has left be- 
 hind him, we have never understood each other, never loved 
 each other, and I give him back his troth. That a separa- 
 tion from him deprives me also of you, of Aunt Thekla, and 
 of a home which I love, is the severest trial that could befall 
 me ; but I must bear it. Farewell, dear, dear grandfather I 
 Forgive me. Do not think me ungrateful ; and, in spite of 
 appearances, believe in the unalterable love and veneration of 
 your grand-daughter 
 
 ' JOHANNA." 
 
 The Freiherr had long finished reading the letter, when he 
 still sat gazing at the uncertain characters in which Johanna's 
 usual firm, clear handwriting was hardly to be recognized. 
 This he had not expected, had not thought possible. But 
 if she could thus resign Db'nninghausen, without even asking 
 if some compromise were not possible, he, too, would hold un- 
 alterably to the justice of his course. 
 
 " Read that !" he said at last, in a harsh, hoarse tone, as he 
 handed the sheet to his sister. " Tell Otto how the matter 
 s':ands. I do not want to speak of the foolish girl again."
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 DR. URBAN WOLF. 
 
 JonANNA had thought that the worst was over when she 
 took her departure from Donninghausen ; and, indeed, the 
 first days and nights that she spent by her sister's bedside 
 were occupied wholly with care and anxiety for the little one. 
 The child lay in the delirium of fever, raved in terror of a 
 little black pony, declared, screaming, that she never would 
 dance again, never would appear in the circus ; while Helena, 
 with tears, confessed that Lisbeth's illness was the result of a 
 fall she had while at a rehearsal. 
 
 Johanna's presence seemed to soothe the child, and, forget- 
 ting herself, she was always beside her bed ; but then came 
 the letters from the home she had left, and they recalled all 
 the old pain and conflict. 
 
 Involuntarily she looked first for Otto's letter. Her heart 
 had not yet forgotten to beat faster at the sight of his hand- 
 writing. But the more she read of it, the more it dulled her, 
 and at its conclusion she laid it aside with a sensation of dis- 
 gust. Did he think to lure her back thus ? Did he know 
 h :r so little ? Had he so entirely lost all feeling of self-respect ? 
 One honest word from him, and all might have been well. With- 
 out implicating Magelone, he might have said to the Freiherr, 
 ' I have wronged Johanna ; forgive me if she forgives.' Had 
 she hoped for this ? Had she for an instant thought this 
 solution possible ? No, oh, no 1 Had she not written both 
 to him and to Auut Thekla had she not repeated did she 
 266
 
 DR. URBAN WOLF. 267 
 
 not feel with every throb of her heart that all was over be- 
 tween Otto and herself? 
 
 And this must be written to her grandfather. Otto had 
 with great skill used her hint as to making her relations with 
 these people the reason for their separation. Half the work 
 was done ; why should she delay to do the rest ? 
 
 At first she found an explanation for this in her exertions 
 as a nurse, which were unremitting. But when, at her earnest 
 entreaty, Lisbeth was removed from the first story of the noisy 
 hotel, where Batti had established himself, to a quiet back 
 room in the third story, she daily grew better, and Johanna 
 could no longer make her care the pretext for delay. 
 
 And, like all who earnestly strive after it, she, too, found 
 ' the bitter word of liberating truth.' She pitilessly insisted 
 to herself upon the fact that in his cool attempt at a reconcilia- 
 tion Otto's aim had been the preservation of friendly relations 
 between himself and his grandfather, and that she should con- 
 tribute more to his happiness by vanishing from Donning- 
 hausen for his sake than by paving the way for her justifica- 
 tion, and she determined to sacrifice herself. She would not 
 she could not love him any longer. She persuaded herself 
 that she did not. But she might, without loss of self-respect, 
 take upon herself the consequences of his fault. In this con- 
 viction she wrote to her grandfather. 
 
 When her letter was despatched she sank into a dull apathy. 
 Slowly, monotonously, hour after hour, day after day passed 
 by. Her solitude was but rarely invaded. There was little 
 to be done at present for the child. Helena, who had talked 
 at first about taking her share of the nursing, was soon 
 weary, and Batti was satisfied with asking every morning 
 what kind of a night Lisbeth had passed, and how she was 
 at present. After receiving the usual answer, ' About the 
 same !' and then standing for a while beside the bed looking 
 down at the poor little figure lying motionless with half-
 
 268 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 closed eyes, he became, Helena declared, so depressed that it 
 needed half a day's distraction to wear off the impression pro- 
 duced upon him by his visit to the sick-room. 
 
 " We have two patients, dear Johanna," said Helena ; " and 
 T really believe that my task as Carlo's nurse is harder than 
 yours. Fancy the self-control it costs me to conceal from 
 poor Carlo the anguish of my heart ; to dress, to receive 
 visits, to walk and drive, and to preside at the little suppers 
 to which Carlo has accustomed himself as well as his friends. 
 It is not enough to give artistic performances ; the artist 
 must maintain his position in society ; and, since Batti needs 
 my aid in this, I must not refuse it." 
 
 After talk of this kind she would kiss her ' poor little sick 
 angel,' embrace Johanna, call her her comfort and support, 
 and then return to her usual mode of life without a thought 
 as to the amount of Johanna's self-denial. 
 
 Johanna had no sense of exercising any, but the confine- 
 ment and the bald desolation of her surroundings added to 
 her weight of misery. The room to which Lisbeth had been 
 removed was low-ceiled and scarcely ten paces square, the 
 walls were covered with a gaudy paper, the child's bed stood 
 at one end, with an old sofa, upon which Johanna slept ; against 
 one wall stood a couple of common tables and chairs, and 
 curtains of doubtful cleanliness were hanging before the little 
 window, which looked out upon a narrow side-street. Helena 
 declared that she herself could not exist four-and-twenty hours 
 in such a ' hole ;' but it never occurred to her to try to make it 
 more comfortable. Why should she trouble herself? By fool- 
 ishly breaking off her engagement Johanna had relinquished 
 all claim to especial respect, and must be glad to find an 
 asylum with her quasi- step-father. Unfortunately, she was 
 quite as haughty as formerly. In vain did Helena try to dis- 
 cover the cause of her break with her lover. " I cannot speak 
 of it," Johanna always repeated ; and then Batti in his violent
 
 DR. URBAN WOLF. 269 
 
 way would order his wife not to ' torment the poor thing.' 
 " I am glad," he would say, " that it has happened as it has ; 
 now she will no longer refuse to accede to my plans. In a 
 year she will be the queen of my circus." 
 
 Johanna never suspected this. Batti begged her kindly to 
 accept for the present the shelter of his ' nomad-tent,' and 
 she accepted gratefully what was cordially offered. She scarcely 
 thought of the future, the present, with its dull, paralyzing 
 pain, so weighed upon her soul. 
 
 At last she was roused by a letter from Db'nninghausen. 
 Aunt Thekla had addressed the envelope. It contained a 
 communication from her grandfather. Johanna kissed the 
 handwriting, as she had so often kissed the withered hand 
 that had traced it, and then read the letter, feeling as she 
 did so the angry glance of his large eyes, and hearing the 
 muttered thunder of his voice. He wrote, 
 
 " So much time elapsed between my letter and your an- 
 swer, that there can have been no inconsiderate haste on your 
 part. You have reflected upon all that required reflection, 
 and therefore there is scarcely any need of my express decla- 
 ration that with the breaking of your troth to Otto every 
 tie between yourself and myself and every member of my 
 family, is severed forever. How you justify yourself in cast- 
 ing a doubt upon Otto's affection for you I cannot tell ; at all 
 events, you cannot doubt his honour. A Donninghausen keeps 
 his word. And Otto still feels himself bound, as he has re- 
 peatedly told me. I thought you, too, a genuine child of 
 my house ; but you are only the child of your mother, the 
 first, the only Donninghausen who ever deviated from the 
 paths of duty and honour. Otto will write to you. If he 
 succeeds in convincing and persuading you, you shall still 
 find me inclined to forgive ; but decide quickly, or this is the 
 last word you will receive from your grandfather, 
 
 " JOHANN FREIHERR VON DONNINGHAUSEN." 
 
 23*
 
 270 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 This was too much ! Johanna folded the letter again with 
 trembling hands. Her mother, the patient sufferer, and she 
 herself, who surely had never ' sought her own,' were disgraced 
 and exiled, while Otto was looked upon as the genuine Db'n- 
 ninghausen who keeps his word, and Magelone as one of 
 the blameless ones who have never strayed from the true path. 
 Anger and pride for a moment thrust pain into the back- 
 ground. She would be final also, as her grandfather had 
 been, would prove to herself thus that she was of his blood. 
 
 She went to the open window and looked out. On the other 
 side of the wall that bounded the little street lay a garden 
 with fruit-trees and beds of vegetables. It was late in the 
 afternoon, and raining. From the low clouds came the ' sound 
 of vernal showers' filling the air and rustling low among the 
 tree-tops ; a mingled fragrance of herbs, flowers, and wet earth 
 ascended to the window, and under the influence of the mur- 
 muring sound and the scent-laden air her tormenting reflec- 
 tions faded into dreamy revery. From the misty veil of the 
 rain came trooping, at first vaguely, but in ever-increasing dis- 
 tinctness, forms and pictures, the past and the present, the 
 real and the unreal, blending together. When the light was 
 brought, Johanna awoke as from a deep sleep. 
 
 And as she awoke she found herself back again in the 
 midst of the old life. Each throb of her heart brought with it 
 a dull pain, a constant grief. She saw with pitiless distinct- 
 ness what she had lost. Anxiety for Lisbeth oppressed her. 
 And yet everything was changed ! The spell that had fettered 
 her since that unhappy morning in the forest was broken, and 
 she looked beyond herself out into the eternal beauty of life, 
 which is independent of all individual happiness or misery. 
 
 As formerly in Dbnninghausen, she now tried to fix and 
 confirm in writing the shadowy images that rose before her ; 
 but she did not do it as then, only from a desire to liberate 
 her soul. An impulse towards artistic creation had awakened
 
 DR. URBAN WOLF. 271 
 
 within her, an inheritance from her father, as she joyfully re- 
 flected, and she began to group and arrange as a whole that 
 which her fancy showed her phantom-like and confused. 
 
 Hour after hour she sat at the improvised desk which she 
 had placed at the window of the sick-room. A new home was 
 here given her in place of the beautiful, beloved one she had 
 lost. Or was it not rather a home-coming, a recovery of the 
 dear old haunts of memory ? Banished from Donninghausen, 
 Bhe fled to Lindenbad. Amid the green valleys and hills of 
 the Thiiringian forest she laid the scene of her story, and a 
 profusion of melodious echoes from the days of her early girl- 
 hood lent it a brightness that refreshed Johanna herself. 
 
 Weeks passed ; Johanna buried herself in her task with 
 passionate intensity. The hours of daylight often did not 
 suffice her ; and even when her lamp was extinguished, dark- 
 ness brought no repose. The phantoms of her fancy crowded 
 about her and kept her awake. And many were her struggles 
 with an imperfect, undeveloped power of expression, with an 
 uncertain hand, and an untrained eye. 
 
 That she should suffer physically under this constant nervous 
 strain was but natural. Several times the physician called 
 Helena's attention to the fact that her step-daughter needed 
 exercise in the open air. At last, when he found his warnings 
 unheeded, he went to Batti and informed him that unless 
 some attention were paid to Fraulein Johanna's health they 
 should soon have two nervous-fever patients in the house. 
 
 Batti rushed into his wife's room. " Helena, why have 
 you so neglected Johanna?" he shouted. "She will have 
 nervous fever, and will die, all through our fault. Curse me 
 if I ever shall forgive myself 1 Come, come, we must beg 
 her to forgive us 1" 
 
 With these words he rushed away again. Helena followed 
 him, and found him in the room up-stairs, confronting the 
 astounded girl, clasping her hand in his, while he over-
 
 272 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 whelmed her with entreaties, proposals, and self-accusations. 
 Helena must in future do her share of nursing. Johanna 
 must refresh herself, distract her mind ; go to the circus, make 
 acquaintances. The end of it all was that he prevailed upon 
 her to put on her riding-habit. He would accompany her on 
 her ride, and she should try his Miss Jane, a mare positively 
 made for her. 
 
 At first she felt embarrassed. Batti was not only a well- 
 known character in the sporting world, there was no end of 
 bows and nods from riders and gay occupants of carriages, 
 he was also a great favourite with the general populace. 
 " There goes Batti ! Batti !" the street-boys shouted after 
 him ; and he threw trifling coins among the rabble, and 
 laughed at the scramble thus caused. But at last streets and 
 promenades lay behind them, and away they galloped through 
 the open country. Miss Jane, a delicate, high-bred creature, 
 ran races with Batti's gray. After long days of rain, field 
 and forest lay basking in the sunshine. The breeze was at once 
 fresh and warm ; to inhale the delicious air of which she had 
 no long been deprived was like a revivifying draught for Jo- 
 hanna. She returned to the house refreshed and rejuvenated. 
 
 " By Jove, how well you look !" cried Batti. as he helped 
 her to dismount. " Pray glance at your mirror and then deny 
 that you are a born horsewoman." 
 
 This declaration, with a hundred variations of the samo, 
 was the! theme of all Carlo Batti's conversation with Johanna, 
 and she saw him now more frequently than formerly. Lis- 
 beth's condition had suddenly improved : she regained her 
 consciousness ; the fever left her ; she slept, and her appetite 
 returned. She soon began to sit up for hours at a time. 
 Batti required, with a determination that admitted of no 
 opposition, that Johanna should indemnify herself for her long 
 seclusion. And when Helena declared that it would be very 
 improper for her step-daughter to appear without her at the
 
 DR. URBAN WOLF. 273 
 
 circus, at the talle-d'hote, and at Batti's little suppers, he in- 
 sisted that the maid should watch beside Lisbeth while her 
 mother and sister were absent. Johanna must learn to love 
 the life for which Batti destined her. 
 
 And she really enjoyed seeing the circus. The fine 
 horses, the splendour of the costumes, Batti's performances in 
 riding and training his animals, two beautiful blonde sisters, 
 who were really fine performers in their way, the numerous 
 well-disciplined troupe, the brilliant lights, the loud music, 
 the enthusiastic applause of a large audience, all contributed 
 to produce upon Johanna an agreeably exciting impression. 
 
 But she felt exceedingly uncomfortable in the circle in 
 which she found herself soon afterwards, at one of Batti's 
 suppers. Men only were invited, partly members of the 
 aristocracy, partly belonging to the literary class. The tone 
 which they adopted towards Batti hovered between conde- 
 scension and rude familiarity. When excited by wine he 
 began to brag. They drew him on without his perceiving it. 
 Helena was loaded by them with coarse flattery, which her 
 insatiate vanity led her to accept, well pleased. 
 
 Johanna, who was taken to table by a young and rather 
 silent lieutenant, looked on in silence. The place on her 
 other side was empty. At last a young man appeared, who, 
 when greeted by Batti with reproaches for his tardiness, 
 excused himself on the plea of urgent work for his newspaper. 
 Batti signed to him to take the vacant seat beside Johanna, 
 and presented him to her as Dr. Edgar Stein. 
 
 " At last, Fraulein !'' he said. " You have been invisible 
 for so long, while our friend Batti has been unwearied in hia 
 wondrous tales of you, that I began to regard you as a myth- 
 ical being ' veiled in lovely legend.' " 
 
 Johanna mutely inclined her head. The round, red face 
 of the man, with its bold blue eyes and cynical smile, made 
 a most disagreeable impression upon her.
 
 274 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 Helena, who sat opposite, laughed in a constrained man- 
 ner. " What has Batti been saying ?" she asked. " We must 
 certainly find out, Johanna." 
 
 " Why, he described the FrJiulein half as one of the bold 
 horsewomen. Wodan's daughters, half as a Saint Elizabeth, 
 cheering the sad, healing the sick, and so forth ; then half 
 as an aristocratic lady, half as an artiste. And from what I see 
 I believe it all." Whereupon Dr. Stein bowed, and laughed 
 as if in derision of his own words. 
 
 " Johanna, you ought to be proud !" cried Helena. Dr. 
 Stein * is usually quite what his name signifies towards 
 women." 
 
 " But not towards you, fairest dame !" he replied. " You 
 never deigned to notice me, poor, pale moon among the stars 
 that circle about your sunlike majesty." 
 
 As he spoke, his glance seemed to ridicule all present. 
 Helena smiled contented ; Johanna felt more and more dis- 
 gusted. And although the young man, strong in his armour 
 of self-conceit, never suspected the sensation he inspired, he 
 could not but perceive that he was far from producing upon 
 Johanna the impression he had intended, and he was not the 
 man to forgive this. 
 
 The talk grew louder and freer. Even in her father's 
 house this had sometimes occurred ; but Johanna had never 
 felt disturbed by the conversation there, where the refinement 
 of the host had always restrained the mirth and frivolity of 
 his guests within certain limits. But who was there to do that 
 here ? At last she could bear it no longer, and, while a toast 
 was being drunk standing, she contrived to withdraw unpei- 
 ceived ; and the next morning she explained that she could 
 not leave Lisbeth so late at night again. The child had dis- 
 covered the absence of her beloved nurse, had cried bitterly, 
 
 * Anglic 6, stone.
 
 DR. URBAN WOLF. 275 
 
 and had not slept until Boaiu s.-3 Utter Johanna's return, 
 Henceforth Butti was oongea to content himself with the 
 daily ride which the physician ordered for the young girl, and 
 which she herself would have been sorry to omit. 
 
 She heard nothing further from Donninghausen, although 
 she had entreated Aunt Thekla to write to her. Only a couple 
 of large trunks, containing all her belongings, had arrived. 
 She unpacked them, shaking out every article which they 
 contained, in the hope of finding some scrap of writing. In 
 vain ! Only a ring which Aunt Thekla had always worn had 
 been added to Johanna's small store of trinkets. Evidently 
 the Freiherr had, as he had warned her, forbidden all com- 
 munication with her. 
 
 All the greater was her surprise, when one day a card was 
 brought her, upon which beneath the name of ' Dr. Urban 
 Wolf was written in pencil, ' with a message from Donning- 
 hausen.' 
 
 For an instant she hesitated ; but the longing to have some 
 tidings of her grandfather and aunt was victorious. As she 
 could not at the time leave Lisbeth, she placed the screen be- 
 fore the bed of the sleeping child, and requested to have the 
 stranger shown up. 
 
 : ' Pardon me for my intrusion,'" he said. " I ought to have 
 asked an introduction from Batti, but it was necessary that I 
 should speak with you alone." 
 
 Johanna was agreeably impressed. There was something 
 in the stranger's deep, full voice that reminded her of some 
 tones of her father's. There, however, the resemblance ended. 
 Dr. Wolf's figure was short and slender, and his pale, delicate 
 face evidently Jewish. 
 
 " Pray be seated," she said, motioning him to a chair; and 
 her breath came short and quick as she added, " You bring 
 me tidings of my relatives; do you come from Donning- 
 hausen ?"
 
 276 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 " No, I do not," he said, without looking up. " My father, 
 Lobel Wolf, the dealer in curiosities, is commissioned by the 
 Freiherr von Dbnninghausen to make you a proposition, which 
 T am to lay before you." 
 
 He paused, as if awaiting encouragement to proceed. 
 Johanna, however, gave him none, not knowing what to 
 say, and he went on : "I fear I must allude to matters 
 
 which it is painful to you to With regard to certain 
 
 jewels, an heirloom in the family ; an inheritance from your 
 mother " 
 
 " I make no claim to them !" Johanna interrupted him, and 
 her voice trembled. Was it possible that her grandfather 
 could think her mercenary ? 
 
 " Permit me to conclude," the young man continued, and 
 his tone and manner showed how disagreeable he found his 
 task. " The Freiherr wishes to retain the jewels in the Db'n- 
 ninghausen family ; but, since they are undeniably yours, he 
 can do so only by obtaining your consent that he should pur- 
 chase them from you. My father has appraised them ; here 
 
 is his estimate in writing " And he would have handed 
 
 Johanna a folded piece of paper. She declined it. 
 
 " No, no ; this is out of the question !" she exclaimed. " That 
 the jewels are a family heirloom is quite enough to establish 
 the fact that I can have no possible claim upon them. And 
 if I had, one does not sell family jewels, not even I, although 
 I have no family !" 
 
 She arose and went to the window ; the stranger must not- 
 perceive her emotion. 
 
 Dr. Wolf also arose. " I have another commission to fulfil. 
 The old Freifraulein Thekla sent for my father, begged him to 
 come himself to Hanover to transact this affair, to give you 
 her affectionate greetings, and then to let her know how you 
 arc. What shall I write to him ?" 
 
 " That I am well," she said.
 
 DR. URBAN WOLF. 277 
 
 " Well !" the young man repeated. " Pardon me, Friiulein, 
 I cannot believe it." 
 
 Johanna turned to him. " Herr Doctor," she said, with 
 eome haughtiness. 
 
 " Pardon me," he said again, looking her sadly in the face. 
 " I have scarcely seen you, but I know that this is no fitting 
 home for you. How long can you endure it ? For the pres- 
 ent you do so, because you feel that you are needed here, but 
 what will you do when that need no longer exists ?" 
 
 Johanna blushed crimson. " Herr Doctor," she began, 
 " these are questions " 
 
 " Which you think I have no right to put," he completed 
 her sentence; and then went on, in his gentle, persistent voice, 
 " I knew that I should have to allude to what ' it would be 
 most painful to you to have mentioned, but it is best to tell 
 you frankly how matters stand. The old Freifraulein confided 
 to my father that the purchase of the jewels is a mere pre- 
 tence. The Freiherr has parted with you; but he cannot 
 endure to think of you, without means, exposed to the vicissi- 
 tudes of life. His pride will not allow him openly to offer 
 you a helping hand, and yet he feels it his duty to support 
 you. Meet him half-way." 
 
 " Impossible !" Johanna declared. 
 
 He was silent for a while. " Pray do not let this be your 
 final decision," he entreated. " Keflect; think how long and 
 sad the life has been that has made your grandfather so hard, 
 and be you all the gentler. The repentance is bitter that 
 comes too late." He stroked back his hair from his forehead, 
 and added, as if in self-reproach, " I pray you to forgive my 
 presumption ! You do not know ; I may one day, perhaps, 
 
 be able to explain There is a certain community of 
 
 Buffering between us. I will call in a few days for your an 
 Bwer to the Freiherr." 
 
 And, without waiting for a reply, he took his leave. 
 24
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 A WAGER AND AN ADVISER. 
 
 JOHANNA was much agitated. Again she felt bitterly her 
 separation from Donninghausen, and she was also suddenly 
 assailed by anxiety with regard to her future. The young 
 man was right. When she should be no longer of use as 
 Lisbeth's nurse she could not remain with her step-mother ; 
 and what then ? 
 
 At times, when while sitting at her writing-table, she had 
 felt some consciousness of power, she had hoped to be able to 
 maintain herself by literary labour. At other times she doubted. 
 Now, when the question seemed to her more grave than ever 
 before, she seemed to hear her father's words of discourage- 
 ment, ' as devoid of talent as her mother.' But why, then, 
 was she so irresistibly impelled to give life to the creatures 
 of her fancy ? and how had she been able in all her misery 
 to forget herself in so doing, if she were not called to avail 
 herself of the talent which she possessed ? 
 
 She stood at the window, with throbbing pulses, and gazed 
 out into the twilight. Over in the garden a thrush was sing- 
 ing its evening song in the top of an old pear-tree. Ah, 
 that song ! Its ecstasy would always recall to the girl the most 
 wretched hour of her existence. ' Called ?' Had she not also 
 thought herself called to be a partaker in the bliss of love ? 
 How true the words of Holy Writ, ' Many are called, but few 
 are chosen !' 
 
 The evening and a great part of the night were passed by 
 Johanna in a wild turmoil of thought. She began the new 
 278
 
 A WAGER AND AN ADVISER. 279 
 
 day with a weary head and a heavy heart. All the more cheer- 
 ful was Batti during the morning ride; he shouted and laughed 
 louder than ever. Suddenly he broke off, and, guiding his 
 horse close to her side, he said, " I am tiring you with my 
 nonsense, but you must excuse me to-day. I have just had 
 a letter which puts me quite beside myself. If the devil does 
 not put ic his oar, we shall go to St. Petersburg this autumn." 
 
 Johanna was startled. How would Lisbeth bear the long 
 journey and the severity of the Russian winter? 
 
 " Helena knows nothing about it yet. I shall not tell her 
 until everything is ship-shape," Batti continued ; " she makes 
 such a row. But I tell you immediately, because we have no 
 time to lose. Better go to work at once. St. Petersburg is 
 the best place in the world for your debfit." 
 
 " My debut !" Johanna exclaimed, in surprise. 
 
 " Pray let us have no fol-de-rol nonsense !" Batti quickly re- 
 joined. " No need for us to play hide-and-seek with each other ! 
 I need you, you need me ; let us confess thus much at once. 
 Your manners, rather haughty, coolly distinguished, I might 
 say, will be a fine nut for the St. Petersburg gentlemen to 
 crack. You will look like a queen beside my two laughing, 
 coquettish blondes. Besides, you have talent, enthusiasm, 
 energy, and look better on horseback than anywhere else. 
 You have no family connection. Even without appearing as 
 an equestrienne you have contrived to be exiled and repu- 
 diated. Nothing could be more admirably arranged. So be 
 sensible ; do cot hesitate any longer. Mount the horse that 
 an honest hand saddles and bridles for you, and then halloo ! 
 huzza ! for the brilliant future I promise you. Why the deuce 
 should you hesitate ? You'll find no better teacher than my- 
 self, and no better chance than in my circus. I should like 
 to know what objections you can make ?" 
 
 " None," Johanna replied. " I know that your intentions 
 are the kindest, and T thank you cordially, but it cannot be !"
 
 280 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 Batti laughed. " 'Tis odd that no lady is without affecta- 
 tion !" he exclaimed. " Let it alone, however ; it does not 
 become you." 
 
 " It is not affectation," Johanna replied. " Ask Helena if 
 I am not paralyzed by a mere appearance in public -" 
 
 " That can be overcome," Batti interposed. 
 
 " Hardly ! The mere thought of those myriad eyes upon 
 
 me 1" And she shuddered. " But I will be honest. Even 
 
 if I could overcome my timidity, I should reject your proposal 
 out of regard for my grandfather." 
 
 " Oho !" cried Batti, and his face flushed with anger. 
 " My art is as honourable as any " 
 
 " I am not disputing that," Johanna interrupted him gently; 
 " but here we have to do with the invincible prejudices of an 
 old man. As you know, he never forgave my mother's mar- 
 riage." 
 
 " And you would have regard for that old ass ?" shouted 
 Batti. 
 
 " I respect and love my grandfather," said Johanna. 
 
 Batti was silent for a while. Then he shook his head, and 
 laughed. 
 
 " Ah, by Jove ! there comes the Princess again," he said. 
 " Keep that air ; it becomes you famously. The regard you 
 talk of is pure folly ; but you shall have your way. I should 
 have liked to see your father's name on my play bills ; but then, if 
 it must not be, we can find another; and another nationality too 
 if you like. Mademoiselle So-and-so, Miss This-and-that, 
 we'll arrange all that. Is there any Carlo Batti to be found ia 
 the parish register ? There I am called Heinrich Rauchspatz, 
 after my father, who kept a grocer's shop in a little town in 
 North Germany. Good old Rauchspatz had his prejudices 
 too. He thought that to have one of his name appear as an 
 equestrian artist might affect the respectability of his firm. Oh, 
 what a row there was ! On the othor hand, I could not bring
 
 A WAGER AND AN ADVISER. 281 
 
 myself to measure out molasses and weigh out snuff to cus- 
 tomers, so we struck a bargain. He let me off. I changed my 
 name to Carlo Batti, and I think I have done it credit. So 
 now choose a name you like, and it shall be yours." 
 
 "I cannot; believe me, I cannot," Johanna replied. "Thank 
 you again, but let me beg you to say no more about it. It 
 distresses me, and can lead to no result." 
 
 For a while they rode on in silence, and then Batti said, 
 " One word more, Fraulein Johanna. Have you considered 
 that if you accede to my plan you insure yourself a brilliant 
 future and a certain income ? You are now vis-d-vis de rien." 
 
 Johanna blushed. Twice had she heard this in the last 
 twenty-four hours. 
 
 " I am, perhaps, not quite so helpless as you think," she said, 
 in a voice that faltered. " I hope I possess another talent worth 
 cultivating. I have you are the first to whom I have men- 
 tioned it I have been trying to write." 
 
 Carlo Batti gave a long, low whistle. " A curious taste !" 
 he said ; " that for riding on a snail when you might have a 
 race-horse ! ' But every elf must please himself.' If you should 
 change your mind you know where to find me. I shall always 
 be ready to repeat my offer." 
 
 " How kind you are 1" said Johanna. " Thank you again ; 
 and do not be angry with me." As she spoke she held out 
 her hand to him. 
 
 He shook it kindly. " Angry, no !" he said ; " but I wil] 
 not deny that it vexes me. But let us say no more about it. 
 We have not had our gallop yet." 
 
 And away they went along the Herrenhausen Avenue. 
 
 Batti's disappointment was, however, too great to be dissi- 
 pated by the ride. The longer he thought of Johanna's re- 
 fusal the more it irritated him, and when at his daily breakfast 
 at the hotel he met Dr. Stein, the latter instantly asked what 
 ailed his ' dear friend.' 
 
 24*
 
 282 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 " I have been vexed ; but I do not want to talk about it," 
 Batti shouted, as if to take all present into his confidence. 
 
 " Then let us have our breakfast," said the other. "A glass 
 of wine will wash away your ill humour." 
 
 " 111 humour ! Who told you that I was ill-humoured ?" 
 Batti shouted again, as he took his seat. And even before the 
 wine was brought Dr. Stein had learned that Batti's boasted 
 scheme with regard to Johanna had come to nothing. 
 
 " Perhaps you did not offer her enough," he said. 
 
 " It never came to that," Batti replied. " No, the money 
 question does not touch her; it is her fine relatives that stick 
 in her crop. Although the stuck-up crowd will have nothing 
 to do with her, the only reply she has for me is regard for 
 them. 'Tis enough to drive one mad !" 
 
 Dr. Stein appeared to reflect. " What will you give me 
 for taming your bird for you ?" he asked, at last. 
 
 Batti shrugged his shoulders. " I could have done it my 
 self if any one could," he replied. " I have more influence 
 with her than you have." 
 
 " I'll lay you a wager !" cried the young man. " A dozen 
 of champagne that I drive the haughty fair into your cir- 
 cus." 
 
 Batti eyed him suspiciously. " What do you mean to do ?" 
 he said. 
 
 " That's my secret," said Stein, with a malicious smile. 
 " A dozen of champagne. Yes or no ?" 
 
 " Done !" cried Batti, shaking the hand offered him. At 
 first the business seemed to him hardly fair ; but it was not 
 his nature to torment himself with suspicions. If Dr. Stein 
 won, Johanna would be the gainer ; if he lost, all would re- 
 main as it was. And Batti's ill humour vanished. When he 
 saw Johanna again he not only conducted himself towards 
 her with great friendliness, he even succeeded in suppressing 
 all reference to his plans for her. His task of self-control
 
 A WAGER AND AN ADVISER, 283 
 
 was made easier for him by a summer rain, which prevented 
 the morning ride for several days. 
 
 Johanna had all the more leisure to ponder her plans for 
 the future. There was much to arouse her anxiety. She 
 had no idea of the value of literary labour ; she knew no one 
 who could advise and help her. She could hardly expect 
 that Ludwig Werner, who could have done so, would sympa- 
 thize with her desire ; and, moreover, she was separated from 
 him by many leagues of sea and land. 
 
 Through all her care and anxiety she persisted in writing. 
 Her strong healthy nature rebelled against the pressure that 
 had been brought to bear upon it. Grief and pain seemed 
 but to increase her ability to work, and when one day Dr. 
 Wolf was again announced, she had just completed her first 
 story. 
 
 The pale little man, with his quiet, melancholy eyes, was 
 so sympathetic to her that involuntarily she held out her hand 
 as to a friend, and suddenly it occurred to her that she could 
 ask of him the advice which she needed. She had learned 
 at Donninghausen, through Lobel Wolf, the nom de plume 
 of his son, and had discovered that she had read various of his 
 essays and criticisms with much interest and pleasure. If his 
 verdict upon her literary attempt should be favourable, she 
 could proceed with confidence. 
 
 She told him how in her changed circumstances she had 
 occupied herself, and she informed him also that she had be- 
 gun to tfrite some time before leaving Donninghausen. Sud- 
 denly she paused, unable to proceed. 
 
 He came to her aid. " If you think that I can be of anj 
 service to you, pray command me," he said. 
 
 " I do wish to ask a favour of you," she said. " Will you 
 read over my attempt, and tell me frankly what you think of 
 it?" 
 
 " Gladly. 5Tou look as if you could bear the truth," the
 
 284 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 young man replied. And while Johanna was wrapping up her 
 manuscript, he added, " And your answer for the Freiherr ? 
 May I say that you accept his proposal ?" 
 
 With trembling hands she laid the package on the table 
 before him. " I cannot," she said. " Do not misunderstand 
 me. I do not act, as you think, from a want of tenderness. 
 On the contrary, I know that my refusal will gratify my 
 grandfather." 
 
 Dr. Wolf looked at her inquiringly. 
 
 " If the jewels are mine, I cannot as they are a family 
 heirloom sell them. If they are not mine, I do not choose 
 to lend myself to a farce," she said. 
 
 " You know what induced the Freiherr to make the pro- 
 posal." 
 
 " Why does he not tell me that he cares for me, and would 
 like to help me?" the girl cried. "If he does not consider 
 me worthy of his sympathy, I cannot accept his aid." 
 
 Dr. Wolf arose. " You are right," he said, with a gentle 
 smile. " You are the old Freiherr's genuine grand-daughter." 
 With these words he took his leave, carrying with him her 
 manuscript. 
 
 The next evening she received a note from him. He wrote : 
 " I have just finished your story, and I cannot refrain from 
 wishing you ' God-speed.' In spite of the deficiencies mani- 
 fest in your work, all technique must be learned, it shows 
 much decided talent, a strange mixture of grace and force. 
 The form is not always correct, betraying the beginner ; 
 but the colours are fine, and in spite of the optimism of your 
 views, which produces upon me the effect of a fairy-tale, the 
 personages and situations of your story are full of undeniable 
 truth and life. As soon as my time permits I will come to 
 discuss details by word of mouth." 
 
 Johanna clasped her hands upon the note. " God-speed 1" 
 she said to herself, smiling through her tears.
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 DR. STEIN'S SCHEME. 
 
 LIFE at Dbnninghausen since Johanna's departure, although 
 outwardly unchanged, was no longer the same. 
 
 The Freiherr applied himself more diligently than ever to the 
 administration of his extended estates, but the strictest attention 
 to his work did not do away for him with the sensation of emp- 
 tiness and loneliness. Whether he rode out or busied himself 
 with accounts, at table with the family or shut up in his study, 
 everywhere he missed his grand-daughter's watchful eyes, her 
 comprehension of him, her vivacity, her fresh interest in life. 
 In spite of the habit of more than seventy years, his sister 
 hardly seemed so much his own as this young creature. He 
 had always rather looked down upon the gentle docile Thekla, 
 while in Johanna, in spite of the respect she always manifested 
 towards him, he recognized an equal. And because she was 
 BO, and because she had found a home with him, her deser- 
 tion of him, as he called it, was all the more irritating ; and 
 since he could not prevent his thoughts from dwelling upon 
 her continually, he was all the more careful not to betray this 
 weakness in words. 
 
 Magelone had long since returned to Db'nninghausen, 
 graceful and capricious as ever, and yet Aunt Thekla fancied 
 she was hardly the same; her merriment seemed forced. The 
 monotony of her life weighed upon her more heavily, al- 
 though she did not bewail it so often and so loudly as 
 formerly. She did not know that Otto had confessed every- 
 thing to his aunt, and the old lady shrank from telling her, 
 
 285
 
 286 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 although she sometimes thought that Magelone's mind would 
 be easier if she could unburden it freely. She must oe un- 
 happy, for was not all the misfortune that had befallen Don 
 ninghausen of late her fault? And it was because she knew 
 this and repented it that her behaviour towards Otto was so 
 strange : now so frigidly cold, and now so provokingly derisive. 
 Otto had taken up his abode in Tannhagen, and was man- 
 aging the small estate. He seldom came to Donninghausen, 
 and when he did so he avoided being alone with any one 
 member of the family. Aunt Thekla was more troubled 
 about him than about Magelone. The discomfort which evi- 
 dently weighed upon him at Donninghausen seemed to her the 
 result of his repentance, and of his longing love for Johanna. 
 She and the Freiherr were both convinced that he had written 
 repeatedly to Johanna ; and when she would ask him if he 
 had received an answer, and he would hurriedly reply in the 
 negative and then change the subject, the old lady's heart 
 would be filled with bitterness towards Johanna. She did not 
 reflect that in concealing his fault from his grandfather Otto 
 was constantly sinning afresh. Now and then she really 
 blamed herself for striving, in spite of her brother's express 
 command and of Johanna's heartless treatment of ' poor 
 Otto,' to keep up even indirectly a kind of communication 
 with the girl. Notwithstanding these scruples of conscience, 
 she waited impatiently for news from Lobel Wolf; and when, 
 one day, he made his appearance, and gave her a detailed 
 account of his son's visit to Johanna, her grudge against her 
 was drowned in compassion. Instead of the love she had 
 dreamed of in her pretty woodland nest, to be confined in the 
 close atmosphere of a sick-room ! At the old lady's request, 
 Lbbel Wolf declared his readiness to treat in person with 
 Johanna, and to tell the Freiherr, whom fortunately he 
 had not yet seen, that he had not yet made his intended trip 
 to Hanover, but would do so in a few days.
 
 DR. STEIN'S SCHEME. 287 
 
 Scarcely had Lobel Wolf driven out of the court-yard 
 when the Freiherr came into his sister's room and called out 
 to her, " Good news ! Johann Leopold is coming home !" 
 
 " When ?" Aunt Thekla asked, half startled, half pleased. 
 
 The Freiherr shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " The letter says shortly ; whether that means in a few 
 weeks or a few months who can say ? You know the lad's 
 ways. He never is precise." 
 
 " How is he ?" she inquired. 
 
 " He says nothing about his health in his letter," said 
 the Freiherr. " He does not, however, appeal to be per- 
 fectly well. He complains generally, talks about disappoint- 
 ment in what he had hoped travel would do for him, and so on ; 
 but how much of it may be hypochondria it is impossible to 
 say. Moreover, he seems to have been suddenly attacked by 
 home-sickness. He is not even going to await Dr. Werner's 
 return. Perhaps Werner sends him home. I was always 
 afraid that that climate would not do for Johann Leopold. 
 The lad begs me to answer his letter immediately ; posterestante, 
 Marseilles ; and I want you, my dear Thekla, to do this for 
 me. Tell him all that has taken place here, and let him know 
 that I do not want to speak of it ; and send him a cordial 
 welcome home from me. I shall be glad to have the fellow 
 here once more." 
 
 The old lady promised to write before night, and the Frei- 
 herr left the room. She remained behind, lost in anxious 
 revery ; she feared fresh disappointments and struggles for 
 ^ those whom she loved. Magelone, indeed, seemed more awake 
 to her responsibilities than she had been ; but, sensitive as 
 Johann Leopold was, he would surely perceive that she was 
 estranged from him ; and since, according to Aunt Thekla's 
 belief, he was not really attached to Magelone, he would be 
 only too glad to sever the tie between them. And would not 
 tUis, perhaps, be best ? If Magelone were free to love Otto
 
 288 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 without conscientious scruples, might she not succeed in 
 steadying him and consoling him for Johanna's loss? It 
 would be difficult to persuade the Freiherr to agree to their 
 marriage ; but if he should see that Otto could be thus con- 
 soled, and Magelone thus made happy, he would finally con- 
 sent, particularly if Johann Leopold lent his aid to the pair 
 by making up his mind to declare frankly that he wished to 
 remain true to the memory of his dead love. Aunt Thekla, 
 whose entire life had been devoted to a dead love and to grief 
 for his loss, never doubted that Johann Leopold had buried in 
 the coffin of. the betrothed of his youth every hope and wish 
 f his life. He had, indeed, consented to a marriage with 
 Magelone, in obedience to the arrangements of the head of the 
 family, but his increasing melancholy had shown that this obe- 
 dience was almost beyond his strength. So long as he was the 
 only one to be sacrificed, Aunt Thekla had shrunk from putting 
 forward any objection to the match ; but now that she knew 
 that Magelone's happiness, and perhaps more than that, would 
 be imperilled by this marriage, for she had shown how weak 
 ehe was to resist temptation, now Aunt Thekla was resolved 
 to do all that she could to avert this fresh calamity from the 
 children of her heart and home. 
 
 Still occupied with these thoughts, she went at the usual 
 hour to the drawing-room. While yet in the corridor, she 
 heard Magelone singing and playing, and as she entered there 
 rang exultantlv in her ears, 
 
 " I could weep for very gladness ; 
 I can hardly think it true " 
 
 Magelone looked up, broke off, and hurried to meet her aunt. 
 " Have you heard ?" she cried, her face beaming with delight. 
 " Johann Leopold is coming home at last 1" 
 
 Aunt Thekla let her work-basket fall in her surprise.
 
 DR. STEIJSTS SCHEME. 289 
 
 " Child," she said, as Magelone was picking up its con- 
 tents, " are you then so glad of Johann Leopold's return ? I 
 thought " 
 
 " What, aunt?" Magelone asked, as she handed the old 
 lady the basket ; and, although her voice was calm, there was 
 a certain uneasiness in her eyes. 
 
 " All that has occurred lately," Aunt Thekla stammered, 
 as she took her seat on the sofa, "your relations with 
 Otto " 
 
 " Ah, indeed !" Magelone cried, and her face flushed crim- 
 son. " Johanna accused me, then ? It was just like the sly 
 creature " 
 
 " Magelone, how dare you utter one word against Johanna !" 
 Aunt Thekla interrupted her. '' She never gave the slightest 
 
 intimation Had she done so, she would be here now, 
 
 while you and Otto '' 
 
 " Then it was Otto 1" Magelone exclaimed. " How 
 
 " Child, child ! it does not become you to lay the blame on 
 others," her aunt admonished her again. " If you would 
 atone for your fault you must humbly repent " 
 
 " Repent yes that I ever wasted a thought upon the 
 vainest and meanest of men !" cried Magelone, bursting into 
 tears, and throwing herself down beside her aunt. " Otto 
 loves no one save himself. He is faithless, false, cowardly. 
 Within the space of an hour he was treacherous to me for Jo- 
 hanna's sake, and <o Johanna for my sake. Oh, I hate him ! 
 1 despise him 1 Since he has told you all, I will tell grand- 
 papa " 
 
 She sprang up. Aunt Thekla laid her hand upon her arm. 
 " You will do no such thing. My brother must not know of 
 your treachery, your frivolity," she said, with unwonted de- 
 cision. " You have done enough mischief already." 
 
 Magelone sat down again, and continued to weep silently. 
 N t 25
 
 290 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 " What do you intend shall be the end of all this ?" her 
 aunt asked, after a long pause. 
 
 Magelone's only reply was a fresh burst of tears. 
 
 " Now, because you are angry with Otto, are you going to 
 make Johann Leopold unhappy?" Aunt Thekla continued. 
 " Remember how you talked about your marriage before he 
 went away." 
 
 Magelone jumped up and threw her arms about her aunt's 
 neck. " No, I will not make him unhappy !" she cried. " I 
 know now all that he is to me. I shall be so happy if he 
 will only love me and help me ; and when one is happy 
 one's self it is easy to make others happy. And you are 
 right, dear aunt ; grandpapa must not be told anything. He 
 shall see how happy we are, and how I will try to be a credit 
 to you all." 
 
 Kind old Aunt Thekla was conquered. If Magelone was 
 conscious of the wrong she had done, and was longing to live 
 a new life, how could any one place any obstacle in the way 
 of her marriage with Johann Leopold ? But there was still 
 one objection in her mind. " Dear Magelone," she said, " you 
 are right to think that only when we are happy ourselves can 
 we make others so ; but shall you be happy ? Johann Leo- 
 pold will be to you the most faithful and judicious of friends, 
 but the love for which you long is not his to give. You 
 know the touching fidelity with which he clings to the mem- 
 ory of his Albertine." 
 
 Magelone smiled triumphantly. " Oh, Aunt Thekla," she 
 exclaimed, " I have nothing to fear from that dead Albertine! 
 Before his departure, Johann Leopold wrote me a veritable, 
 genuine love-letter. To call me his is his most fervent desire. 
 He hopes to win my heart when he returns. And even al- 
 though I give him up, he must always be devoted to me. 
 So you see " 
 
 Aunt Thekla saw that she had again been entirely mis-
 
 DR. STEIN'S SCHEME. 291 
 
 taken. She saw that man's fidelity, Schiller's assertion not- 
 withstanding, is a mere illusion ; saw that there was no fitting 
 place for her in this age of steam, when everything is whirled 
 into the past with such lightning rapidity. And while she re- 
 signed herself to melancholy reflection, Magelone shook care 
 and repentance, anger and love's pain, from her wings, and 
 soared singing into her world like the lark. 
 
 When Lobel Wolf, true to his promise, went, a few days 
 after this, to Hanover, and called upon Johanna, she had 
 just driven out with her little convalescent. A great part of 
 the time which he had reserved for her was thus wasted, but 
 the short interview which he was able to obtain with her 
 was long enough to convince him of the uselessness of 
 further persuasion. She repeated to the father what she had 
 already told the son, that she either had no claim to the pos- 
 session of the jewels, or that she ought not to sell them, and 
 added, " Entreat my grandfather to have no anxiety upon 
 my account. Heaven has endowed me with a talent by which 
 I hope to earn my daily bread." 
 
 Lbbel Wolf shook his head. He was sorry to find her 
 so stubborn and unpractical. He had no desire to report 
 personally the failure of this second attempt. He wrote to 
 the Freiherr, and repeated to him faithfully Johanna's 
 words. 
 
 The following evening Johanna and Lisbeth were alone to- 
 gether in Helena's little drawing-room. The weather was 
 oppressively warm ; all the windows were open, but they 
 seemed to admit only the dust and noise of the street. 
 
 The child was sitting on the window-scat, with her sister's 
 arm around her. She was impatiently watching the passing 
 equipages, and wondering why her mamma never, never 
 stayed at home. Then, bursting into tears, she added, " I 
 do not want to be always waiting, waiting here. You must 
 go away with me, Johanna."
 
 292 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 Before Johanna could reply, there was a knock at the 
 door, and in answer to her " Come in !" Dr. Wolf entered the 
 room. 
 
 " It is 'my Dr. Wolf !" Lisbeth cried, in glee ; for she had 
 soon made friends with him, and now regarded him quite as 
 her own property. Scrambling down from the window-seat, 
 she took possession of him ; but whilst he listened to her 
 childish talk, and answered her as kindly as ever, he glanced 
 from time to time, with an anxious expression, at Johanna. 
 Did she really look paler and more weary than usual, or did 
 fancy show him what he had expected to see ? At last, when 
 the child, sitting in his lap, was busy with a book of pictures 
 which he had brought her, he handed Johanna a newspaper. 
 It contained the first chapters of her novel. 
 
 " Will you pardon me for acting thus upon my own re- 
 sponsibility ?" he asked. 
 
 " Pardon ? I am most grateful to you," said Johanna, 
 blushing with pleasure. 
 
 "I should have liked to go farther," said Wolf, his eyes 
 lighting up for a moment. " I should have liked to put your 
 name to it. Perhaps you may decide to do so at its conclusion. 
 So good a name " 
 
 " Too good for my poor beginnings," Johanna interposed. 
 " But that is not the only consideration that would prevent 
 me from signing my work. It would annoy my grandfather 
 to see my name in the newspaper which his people read 
 daily. No, I cannot allow it." 
 
 Dr. Wolf stroked back his hair from his forehead a sure 
 sign that he was uneasy in mind. " Do they take any other 
 newspapers at Donninghausen ?" he asked. 
 
 " The ' Augsburg Sentinel' and the ' Circular,' " Johanna 
 replied. And, too much pleased to observe the young man's 
 uneasiness, she went on : u How did you contrive to have my 
 story printed so soon ? You told me the other day that there
 
 DR. STEIWS SCHEME. 293 
 
 were so many manuscripts on hand. Confess that you have 
 been plotting for me !" 
 
 Again he stroked back his black hair. " Of course," he 
 said, without looking at her, " I have done what I could. 
 Yesterday morning there was no idea of it. It is, to some 
 extent, a counter-check. Have you seen no other paper yes- 
 terday or to-day ?" 
 
 His last words startled her. " Tell me, for heaven's sake ! 
 Is any one dead?" she cried, growing pale. 
 
 " Nothing of the kind," Dr. Wolf hurriedly interrupted 
 her ; " it concerns yourself alone. I hope you will not take 
 it too much to heart." And after assuring himself by a glance 
 that Lisbeth had fallen asleep, he went on : " Dr. Stein's 
 ' Feuilleton' contains a notice which states that the daughter 
 of a distinguished actor, who died about two years ago, is 
 shortly to appear in Carlo Batti's famous cirous." 
 
 " Tis a mistake !" Johanna exclaimed. " Batti tried to per- 
 suade me to do so, but I told him it was not to be thought of." 
 
 "And did you allege regard for your family as one reason 
 for your refusal ?" asked the young man. 
 
 Johanna assented. 
 
 /" They are trying to burn that bridge behind you," Dr. 
 Wolf continued. " Without mentioning names, but with an 
 exact description of places and persons that makes any such 
 mention unnecessary, the notice goes on to say that an en- 
 thusiasm for art, and yet more a preference for the unre- 
 stricted freedom of an artistic career, have led you to break off 
 your betrothal and forsake your relatives, ' the same noble 
 family,' the article concludes, ' from which, years a*o, the 
 daughter eloped with the famous actor, the father of our d6- 
 butanteJ " 
 
 While he was speaking Johanna grew pale and red by 
 turns. " You are right ; this is infamous !" she said, when 
 
 Dr. Wolf had finished. " I cannot understand " 
 
 20*
 
 294 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 " What they have iu view ?" he completed her sentenca 
 when she paused. " I suspect that they intend by this notice 
 to make the breach between you and your relatives final, and 
 to force you to comply with Batti's schemes. No further 
 consideration for your relatives is possible after this has been 
 printed." 
 
 " Infamous !" Johanna repeated, and her eyes flashed. 
 " What shall I do to counteract thoir plan? Advise me." 
 
 " Put your name to your novel," he replied. " You will 
 thus prove that you have chosen another career " 
 
 " Upon which, however, the same construction might be 
 placed," she said, thoughtfully. " No, nothing would be gained 
 by it. What will wound my grandfather most deeply is the 
 assertion that I have left him from a desire for a life of un- 
 restricted freedom. I might be supposed, also, to desire this 
 as an authoress. You must give me some other counsel. Ah, 
 try to help me !" 
 
 She clasped her hands and looked up at him with entreat- 
 ing eyes filled with tears. He had never seen her so dis- 
 tressed. 
 
 " Be calm !" he said. " ' It is ill stirring a muddy pool.' 
 If you say so, I will have a contradiction published in all the 
 principal papers. But would this really do any good ? The 
 contradiction would give circulation to the falsehood, which, 
 perhaps, in Stein's obscure paper, may escape the notice of 
 your kindred." 
 
 Johanna sighed. "Possibly you are right," she rejoined; 
 " but it is hard to sit still and do nothing." 
 
 " You are not required to ' do nothing.' On the contrary, 
 it behooves you to work steadily and continually if you would 
 maintain your place in the ' struggle for existence,' of which 
 we hear so much nowadays. An author's mortal career, un- 
 less he be a special favourite of fortune, is hard ; doubly so 
 if, as in your case, he rejects the advantages at his command.
 
 DR. STEIN'S SCHEME. 295 
 
 Pursue a literary calling as your father's daughter, and you 
 will find your path a very different one from that which you 
 must tread anonymously or under a nom de plume. Consider 
 whether in your regard for the prejudices of your kindred 
 you do not wrong yourself." 
 
 Johanna seemed not to hear him. Leaning against the 
 window-seat, with her head resting on her hand, she was 
 gazing into space, and by the light of the gas-lamps just lit 
 in the street below, she looked so pale and weary that he 
 feared his presence fatigued her. He rose cautiously, and laid 
 the sleeping child upon the sofa, then took his hat and was 
 about to withdraw. But Johanna roused herself from her 
 Abstraction, and held out her hand to him. "Are you going?" 
 she said. " Thank you for both your pleasant and your un- 
 pleasant tidings, and answer me one more question : Was that 
 notice inserted at Batti's instigation ?" 
 
 " In a certain sense, yes," the young man replied. " I 
 hear it is the result of a wager between Batti and Stein. The 
 latter declared that he could conquer your aversion to the 
 circus " 
 
 "And I thought Batti a good man, supposed him to be my 
 friend 1" cried Johanna. 
 
 " He probably considers himself such," rejoined Wolf. 
 <' He only wishes to force you to what he regards as your 
 good ; and if he has an eye at the same time to his own in- 
 terest, why, we are all like him there." 
 
 " You have no right to say that ; you are not so !" 
 said Johanna. " What interest of yours has been served by 
 the countless kindnesses you have shown me since we first 
 knew each other ?" 
 
 " My dear Fraulein, can we flatter our subtle selfishness 
 more delightfully than by rendering the services of friendship ?" 
 asked the young man. " But this has not been tho question 
 between ^o and me. All that I have apparently don) for
 
 296 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 you was in truth contrived in opposition to another ; whether 
 from hatred, from revenge, or from a desire to shield goodness 
 and purity, I do not know." 
 
 It had grown so dark that Johanna, although she was seated 
 opposite to him, could not distinguish the expression of his 
 face ; but a slight tremor in his voice betrayed his emotion. 
 
 " You do not understand me," he went on, after a pause. 
 " Let me tell you a short story. A few years ago my father 
 adopted a poor orphan, a girl sixteen years old, the daughter 
 of a distant relative. Sara was beautiful and good. She soon 
 occupied my heart and thoughts. I was, however, not free. 
 We Jews, like the children of princes and of peasants, are 
 betrothed by the mutual agreement of heads of families. My 
 betrothed, who loved another, was bolder than I, and after- 
 ward married the man of her choice. But at this time I felt 
 myself fettered by what I might call the bashful sense of 
 filial piety, which causes so many of my race to cleave out- 
 wardly to traditions which they have really outlived. Only a 
 Jew can feel and understand this. I controlled myself with 
 all my force, and I do not think that I ever betrayed myself, 
 that Sara ever suspected how happy and how miserable she 
 made me. She was not only worthy of love, she craved love. 
 One day a dashing young soldier came to visit his family, 
 whose estates were in our neighbourhood. He constantly had 
 money-transactions with my father. Chance brought him into 
 contact with Sara, How shall I tell the rest? She found 
 favour in his eyes. And why not ? She was a poor Jewish 
 girl ; he might trifle with her as he chose ; it involved no 
 responsibility for him. The next time I paid a visit at my 
 home I soon saw how matters stood. I saw that my poor 
 Sara was lost. But I struggled against this conviction ; at 
 least I would make an attempt to rescue one so dear to me. 
 I thrust myself into her confidence with fire and sword. I left 
 her no illusions with regard to the man to whom she was ready
 
 DR. STEIN'S SCHEME. 297 
 
 to sacrifice all, perhaps had already sacrificed all. I had con- 
 trolled my love ; I gave my jealousy free play. Sara's de- 
 spair wrung my heart, but I thought I was doing right. 
 Then, with my consent, she had an interview with the scoun- 
 drel. On the evening of the same day she was taken drowned 
 from the canal which runs at the foot of my father's garden. 
 The neighbours said she must have fallen in while getting 
 water, which she always did herself when she was watering 
 her flowers; my father believed this, and I would gladly 
 have believed it. But upon my writing-table I found a slip 
 of paper, upon which she had written in scarcely-legible char- 
 acters, ' You are right.' I need not tell you the man's name 
 to explain my interest in you And now, if you please, we will 
 never speak of this again."
 
 CHAPTEll XXVII. 
 
 THE F:?.EIHERR'S WEAKNESS is PAST. 
 
 NOT until Johanna was once more alone did she appreci- 
 ate the extent of the mischief wrought by Batti. If he 
 were capable of such conduct after offering her shelter and 
 protection, she could trust him no longer, could accept no fur- 
 ther kindness from him. She must sever the only family tie 
 she now possessed. 
 
 The longer she pondered thus, the heavier grew her heart. 
 She dreaded solitude, her own inexperience, and the curiosity 
 and impertinence of others. But most of all she dreaded sep- 
 aration from Lisbeth ; and, moreover, she asked herself how she 
 could leave the child amid surroundings that imperilled both 
 her spiritual and her material welfare. After some reflection, 
 however, she convinced herself that she never could shield 
 the child by her influence alone, and the next morning when 
 she awoke from a short but refreshing sleep, she made up 
 her mind to do quickly what must be done. 
 
 Helena was sitting alone, in an evident ill" humour, at the 
 breakfast-table, when Johanna and Lisbeth made their ap- 
 pearance ; and when the child, after embracing her mother, 
 asked after Uncle Carlo, she was crossly told to be quiet, that 
 he had gone to the circus. Turning to Johanna, Helena 
 added, " He cannot ride out with you to-day ; he has too much 
 to do." 
 
 " Let us call things by their right names," Johanna re- 
 joined. " It is disagreeable to him to meet me since by hi$ 
 298
 
 THE FRETHERR'S WEAKNESS IS PAST. 299 
 
 permission an article concerning me has appeared in the 
 papers." 
 
 " You are mistaken ! It was not Carlo's fault !" exclaimed 
 Helena. " On the contrary, Stein and he have had a quarrel 
 about it " 
 
 " My dear Helena," Johanna interrupted her, " the news- 
 paper article was written in consequence of a watrer between 
 Batti and Dr. Stein, and who, if not Batti, could have in- 
 formed the writer of the circumstances of my mother's 
 marriage, of my betrothal, of my estrangement from my 
 grandfather, and of my unlucky gift of horsemanship?" 
 
 " How can I help it?" Helena rejoined, in an irritated tone. 
 " It really is more than I can bear ! Carlo is rushing about 
 like a roaring lion. Stein, who was so entertaining, will 
 never come any more to see us, and you take me to account 
 for things with which I have nothing to do, and of which 1 
 am as innocent as an unborn babe !" And, bursting into tears, 
 she added, " And everything was so delightful before you 
 came. Carlo and I were as one heart and soul." 
 
 " If I interfere with your relations to each other," Johanna 
 replied, " you will consent, I am sure, to my leaving you as 
 soon as possible." 
 
 Lisbeth, who had been turning from her sister to her 
 mother, her eyes wide with anxiety, sprang up. " No, no ! 
 you must not go away !" she said, throwing her arms about 
 her sister. 
 
 Helena wiped her eyes. " As if you would be allowed to 
 go !" she said, crossly. " You know very well that Carlo and 
 Lisbeth cannot live without you !" 
 
 " Not another word, Helena !" Johanna hastily interrupted 
 her. u I must prove to you this very day that I am in earnest 
 about leaving you. After what you have said, I should not 
 stay, even had there been no newspaper article." With these 
 words, she gently put Lisbeth from her and arose.
 
 300 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 Helena detained her. " How hasty you are !" she com- 
 plained. " Every one rages at me, but I must weigh every word 
 I utter. Batti, who was going to stay here until autumn, haa 
 suddenly of course because of this Stein affair made up 
 his mind to travel. He is going in two weeks to Holland, to 
 Belgium, and heaven knows where else ! In the autumn we 
 are to go to St. Petersburg. But Lisbeth cannot travel. The 
 doctor says she cannot possibly pass a winter in Russia. I 
 am at my wits' end. It would kill me to let Batti go without 
 me." 
 
 Again she burst into tears. Johanna had much ado to 
 suppress the expression of her joy. " Be composed," she said. 
 " I will take charge of Lisbeth." 
 
 " How can you do that if you leave us?" Helena sobbed 
 And, seizing Johanna's hand, she entreated, " Be kind ; make 
 
 it up with Batti, and stay with us " 
 
 But to stay after all that had been said and done was 
 simply impossible. Every kindness shown Johanna by Batti 
 would furnish Helena with cause for jealousy. After reflect- 
 ing for a few moments, Johanna replied, " I must go ; indeed, 
 it is the right thing to do. But we need not part in anger. 
 We will tell Batti that this hotel is too noisy for me ; that I 
 need fresh air. I will find a quiet lodging at a reasonable 
 rate in the suburbs. Whenever you drive out you can bring 
 Lisbeth to me, and when you go away you can leave her with 
 me altogether." 
 
 " But what will you live on ?" Helena asked. " I would 
 gladly help you, but I never have anything ; my dress costs 
 so much !" 
 
 " Don't let that trouble you," said Johanna. " I have a 
 couple of hundred thalers." She had saved this from her 
 pocket-money that she might have the wherewithal to 
 bestow upon the poor of Donninghausen and Tannhagen. 
 " Moreover, Dr. Wolf has enabled me to dispose of a novel
 
 THE FREIHERKS WEAKNESS IS PAST. 301 
 
 which I wrote awhile ago, and I shall go on working 
 diligently." 
 
 " Wrote ?" drawled Helena. " Dear Johanna, have you 
 reflected ? No one thinks much of authoresses Blue- 
 stocking ! it sounds odious !" 
 
 Johanna laughed : " That must be borne. My only choice 
 lay between the circus and the pen " 
 
 " You are right ; the pen suits you and your serious style 
 much better 1" Helena exclaimed. " But it is odd to fancy 
 you a blue-stocking. How did you happen to think of it ? 
 I wish you had married your cousin. Is not a reconciliation 
 possible?" 
 
 Johanna's reply was to take up a newspaper and remark 
 that she would look through the advertisements of lodgings , 
 in which occupation she became shortly absorbed, whilst 
 Helena felt offended at her persistent reserve, and looked for- 
 ward to her departure as a relief. 
 
 Johanna started on her tour of discovery, and the myste- 
 rious something which we call chance befriended her, leading 
 her, alter several fruitless applications, to the family of a 
 teacher, who advertised for a couple of young girls to board. 
 Sho drove a short distance outside the city, and arrived at an 
 old dark two-storied structure, with small grated windows on 
 the ground-floor. A creaking wooden staircase led up from 
 a dim, damp hall. Johanna's courage fell ; but when on the 
 landing she opened a door the bell of which rang clearly as she 
 did so, and which bore the name Rupprecht upon a china plate, 
 uhe entered another world, clean, whitewashed walls, clear 
 windows, and an open door opposite which seemed to lead 
 out from the second story into the open air. 
 
 She had no time for further observation. At the sound of 
 the bell of the opening door, the doors of the rooms on each 
 side opened. The next, moment Johanna was surrounded by 
 three pretty blonde girls and two barking dogs j and as soon 
 
 26
 
 302 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 as she had, with some difficulty, made known her wishes, she 
 was conducted into the little drawing-room, where an elderly, 
 worn, lady-like woman rose from her seat at the window. 
 
 " Mother, the lady wishes to see our rooms." 
 
 The woman curtsied. " Pray be seated," she said, with a 
 motion towards the old sofa. 
 
 Johanna's eyes followed her gesture, and with an exclama- 
 tion of surprise she approached. She was not mistaken ; upon 
 the wall above the sofa hung a photograph of her foster-brother. 
 
 " Do you know Dr. Werner ?" the woman asked, and her 
 sad eyes brightened. 
 
 " He is my foster-brother," Johanna replied. 
 
 " He was my son's best friend," the other said, and her 
 eyes filled with tears. " My poor Paul died in his arms. 
 That is his picture beside Dr. Werner's." 
 
 Johanna recollected now that Ludwig had come to Db'n- 
 ninghausen on New Year's eve, two years before, from the 
 death-bed of a friend in Hanover. She soon informed the 
 little circle of this, and that she could tell them of Ludwig. 
 
 " What a pity that our father and the little ones are not 
 here !" the blonde sisters said almost together. " But church 
 must soon be over. How glad they will be !" 
 
 Johanna at last referred to the business that had brought 
 Ler here, saying that she wished for lodgings for herself 
 and a little sister, who, after a severe illness, was unable to 
 travel, and that she should need the rooms until the return 
 of the child's mother and step-father from Russia. 
 
 The mother and daughters all conducted her across the 
 bright landing to a room with an adjoining bedroom. Here 
 also the walls were only whitewashed. The ceiling was low, 
 and the furniture was old and simple, but everything shone 
 with neatness. The windows looked out upon a little garden, 
 whence the fragrance of flowers floated aloft, and a quie* 
 reigned around that was not all Sabbath stillness.
 
 THE FREIHERRS WEAKNESS IS PAST. 303 
 
 " You must see the garden !" one of the sisters exclaimed. 
 " There is nothing like it in all Hanover.'' 
 
 " But, Jetta, after your description the Fr'aulein will be 
 disappointed," said the mother. And, turning to Johanna, she 
 explained : " Our house is part of the remains of an ancient 
 monastery ; in the lower story there are still the old vaulted 
 store-rooms. Our neighbour, the florist, has rented them for 
 coal-cellars, and what Jetta calls our garden is only a little 
 terrace which my father-in-law, who was very fond of flowers, 
 laid out upon a continuation of these vaults. He used to 
 grow the rarest tulips and carnations here. We cannot, in- 
 deed, do that." 
 
 They stepped out into it. The terrace was closed in by a 
 latticed fence covered with clematis. In front there was au 
 extended view of fields and meadows, hedge-rows, a little 
 stream bordered by willows, small stretches of woodland, and 
 a couple of villages. On the right it was shaded by the aged 
 lindens in the neighbour's garden, which must also have 
 dated from the palmy days of the monastery. In the centre 
 there was a large bed, which had probably once contained the 
 father-in-law's floral treasures, but which was now devoted to 
 salad and herbs, surrounded, however, by a thick border of 
 lavender in full bloom. On the right there was a perfect 
 thicket of syringas, lilacs, jessamine, and hawthorn, in which 
 the finches were singing merrily. 
 
 " It is very pleasant here," said Johanna, after a hasty glance 
 around. " If you will take me and my little sister " 
 
 " We shall be so glad !" cried the girls. 
 
 Johanna reassured the mother, who feared lest the Fr'au- 
 iein would find it too quiet here, and their manner of life too 
 plain, by telling her that she was searching for a quiet place 
 in which she might work undisturbed ; and the daughters 
 promised to do everything to make their home pleasant for 
 Dr. Werner's sister.
 
 304 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 In the midst of these assurances there was heard a talking, 
 laughing, and barking on the stairs, as if from part of the 
 ' Wild Huntsman's' retinue. But it was only the three ' little 
 ones,' sturdy, blue-eyed, fair-haired little girls, who had just 
 come from church, and who now rushed out upon the terrace 
 with their four-footed pets. After them came their father, a 
 tall, spare man, with thin gray hair, and a pair of shy, blue, 
 childlike eyes. 
 
 " Come, father, come 1" cried Jetta, evidently the spokes- 
 woman of the family. "This is Dr. Werner's foster-sister, 
 and she is going to rent our rooms, and to come with her little 
 sister to live with us." 
 
 " Werner's foster-sister !" he repeated, offering Johanna 
 his hand. " You are indeed welcome. I was afraid that 
 your brother had forgotten us, but his sending you to us 
 proves I was wrong." 
 
 Johanna hastened to correct his mistake. The idea of 
 being received under false pretences could not be entertained 
 by her for a moment. After she had informed the old man 
 with regard to Ludwig's travels, she told him as much of her 
 own affairs as was fitting, rather doubtful in her mind as to 
 whether he would welcome beneath his roof the child of an actor. 
 
 But the master of the house declared that he should esteem 
 himself happy in receiving her as a lodger. He had seen 
 the great artist in one of his most brilliant parts, and his face 
 brightened yet at the remembrance. The pecuniary arrange- 
 ments were soon completed, and when Johanna took her leave 
 of the family, all looked forward with pleasure to meeting again. 
 
 On the same Sunday morning, when the Freiherr opened 
 the post-bag, the first thing he took out was a newspaper in 
 an envelope. " What have we here ?" he said, as he un- 
 folded it. " I don't know what this means 1 Aha 1 here ia 
 something marked "
 
 THE FREIHERR'S WEAKNESS IS PAST. 305 
 
 He began to read, and his face darkened, then flushed pur- 
 ple ; the veins in his forehead swelled, and he held the paper 
 nearer to his eyes, as if he could not trust them. " Hell and 
 damnation!" he suddenly shouted, read on, then hurled the 
 paper from him with another imprecation, sprang up, and 
 walked heavily to the window. 
 
 His sister followed him. " Dear Johann !" she said, in a 
 trembling tone of entreaty. He did not hear her. For a mo- 
 ment she stood beside him uncertain, then went back to the 
 table, picked up the paper, fouud the marked place, and read 
 Dr. Stein's notice about Johanna. 
 
 What was to be done ? The announcement of her death 
 would not have been so bad. Mechanically she fumbled among 
 the letters lying on the table, when suddenly her eyes fell upon 
 an envelope addressed in Lobel Wolf's hand, and picking it 
 up, she again went up to her brother. " Dear Johann," she 
 said, laying her hand upon his arm, "it cannot be our Jo- 
 hanna ! Here is a letter from Lobel Wolf that may ex 
 plain " 
 
 '' Give it to me 1" the Freiherr cried. And, tearing open the 
 envelope, he hurriedly read the letter. His hand trembled, 
 his breath came short and fast. "Artist-blood !" he said, at 
 last, with a laugh that wrung his sister's heart. " She rejects 
 my proposal with regard to the jewels, because she possesses 
 a talent by which she hopes to make an independence !" 
 
 He folded his arms upon his breast, and began to pace the 
 room to and fro. Aunt Thekla sank trembling into an arm- 
 chair ; the tears rolled down her withered cheek as she looked 
 up sadly at her brother. As he had once suffered with his 
 daughter he was now suffering with his grand-daughter. His 
 head was sunk upon his breast; the white eyebrows were 
 gathered in a frown ; his breath came almost like a groan. 
 
 For a long while he paced thus. Suddenly he stopped ia 
 the middle of the room and stood erect with an effort, then 
 u 26*. "
 
 306 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 resumed his walk, muttering in the deep, low tones which his 
 people so dreaded, " I have been wrong, and am suffering 
 for it ! I ought to have known that between Donninghausen 
 and the daughter of a player there yawns a gulf which nothing 
 can bridge over. But I am grown old, Thekla ; old and weak 1 
 I loved the girl more than any other of my children's children. 
 I thought I recognized in her my own thoughts, my own feel- 
 ings, my own ideas of right and honour. All wrong, Thekla ! 
 The illusions of a weak old man, or a farce played by a girl. 
 They say her father was a great man among the players.'' 
 And again he laughed loud and scornfully. 
 
 "Johann, dear Johann, you are wrong!" sobbed Aunt Thekla. 
 
 The Freiherr paused before her. " You are right," he 
 said, more gently. " She did not deceive me intentionally, 
 she was not false ; only given over to the curse that cleaves to 
 her blood. It is not her fault ; it is and must always be mine 
 for bringing her here, and for all but wasting upon her the name 
 of our race. Thank heaven !" lie went on, after a pause, 
 laying his hand heavily upon his sister's shoulder, " thank 
 heaven, it did not come to that. And I make a vow now to 
 myself and to all of you that from this hour there shall be 
 no more of such weakness. I will not waste another thought 
 upon this unfortunate creature. All the strength and force 
 yet left me shall be devoted to Donninghausen, and my care 
 shall be for the genuine children of my house who do honour 
 to me and to my name." 
 
 Thekla pressed her brother's hand to her lips, and wept 
 afresh. 
 
 " Be quiet !" he said, with rough cordiality. " ' Close up the 
 ranks' must be the order to ohpy in life as on the battle-field. 
 The fewer the survivors, il.e more th-y must cling together. 
 I think we Db'nninghauseius caa t>tuud our ground." 
 
 Thekla made no reply. The thought of Otto and Mage- 
 lone closed her lips.
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 THE TERRACE-COTTAGE. 
 
 BATTI made no opposition to Johanna's plans further than 
 was demanded by courtesy ; in fact, he was glad not to have 
 opposite him at every meal her dark, serious eyes, in which 
 he read now melancholy, and now, as it seemed to him, re- 
 proach. And Helena soon contrived to persuade him to con- 
 sent to leave Lisbeth with her sister when they left Hanover, 
 representing to him that the child would be more likely to 
 overcome the repugnance she now felt to the circus if she 
 were to hear and see nothing of it for a time. 
 
 So the very next morning Johanna removed to her terrace- 
 cottage. Helena and Lisbeth accompanied her. Helena was 
 dissatisfied ; she thought the house too small, the rooms too 
 plain. Lisbeth, on the contrary, was enraptured. The little 
 rooms, the odd terrace, the six sisters, who were so merry and 
 kind, took her childish heart by storm. " Rika, Fanny, Jetta, 
 Minny, Annie, Sanna," she repeated to herself; and when her 
 mother called her to go, she begged to be allowed to stay with 
 Johanna. " You know, mamma dear, you are never, never at 
 home." And Helena, who could not bear to forego an enter- 
 tainment of any kind, yielded to the little one's persuasions. 
 
 And for like reasons the child was soon left entirely with 
 her sister. Helena's time was much occupied, as she was to 
 leave town so shortly, and then it would be well for the little girl 
 to become accustomed to her new home. "A mother must 
 learn to forget herself," she said, and she was coutcnt with 
 
 307
 
 308 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 having Lisbeth with her for a couple of hours in the hotel 
 every day, and with now and then calling for her to drive. 
 
 But when the final separation took place she made no at- 
 tempt at self-control ; never heeding the physician's warning 
 that the excitable child must not be agitated in any way. Jo- 
 hanna had taken Lisbeth to the hotel, and Helena, sobbing 
 convulsively, clasped her in her arms, declaring that she would 
 Boon, soon return, never to be separated from her darling 
 more. Her husband led her away, and his own eyes were 
 moist. Johanna could not refuse to take the hand he offered 
 her in farewell. 
 
 They went. Johanna let the child look out of the hotel 
 window while ' mamma and Uncle Carlo' got into the vehicle 
 which was to take them to the railway station. They looked up 
 and nodded ; the horses started. Helena leaned out of the car- 
 riage-window, her fair curls fanning her pretty face, her blue 
 eyes filled with tears. She gracefully threw a kiss to the child 
 at the window. Johanna was never to forget the picture. 
 
 After this departure, that is, nuw that the routine of the 
 day was no longer disturbed by Helena's caprices, Johanna's 
 life was duly and methodically arranged. For a while Lis- 
 beth rebelled a little against the stupid work which took up so 
 much of her sister's time, and to which also all the other in- 
 mates of ' Terrace- Cottage' seemed devoted. The father, a 
 kind old man, who could tell the most delightful stories, and 
 who every evening accompanied with his violin his daughter's 
 performance upon the piano, taught in the public school. 
 The two oldest daughters gave music-lessons, the third helped 
 her mother about the house, and the three ' little ones' went 
 off to school every day, with heavy satchels and a most impor 
 tant air. In a short time Lisbeth grew weary of her idleness, 
 and as soon as tho physician, who continued to look after her 
 now and then, gave his consent, she, to her intense delight, 
 accompanied her beloved Sanna to school.
 
 THE TERRACE-COTTAGE. 309 
 
 Dr. Wolf was not satisfied with Johanna's mode of life. 
 *' Remember what Goethe says about the man. ' who devotes 
 himself to solitude,' " he said. " The author must not be 
 alone ; the full stream of being must bring him refreshment 
 and invigoration. And it is well also, for material reasons, 
 that he should be known personally." 
 
 Johanna did not agree with him. More than aught else, 
 she assured him, she needed repose. She had much to over- 
 come and to analyze in herself before she could attempt to 
 create a position for herself. She did not confess to him how 
 crushed she was by her experience with Batti and Dr. Stein. 
 She dreaded the sight of a strange face. Her intercourse 
 with Dr. Wolf and the inmates of the house sufficed her, and 
 when she was tired of work, a walk in the quiet fields, or a 
 rest on the terrace in the shade of the lindens, restored her 
 courage. Even the simple musical performances in the even- 
 ings refreshed her more and more. The old teacher's ex- 
 quisite taste supplied his want of technique. Many a brilliant 
 performance in her father's house had failed to give Johanna 
 such an insight into Haydn and Mozart as she now gained 
 from this reverent, childlike nature. Or was it that she had 
 become more impressionable? Her greatest gain, however, 
 was in *he constant companionship of her little sister, in the 
 consciousness that, for a while at least, the child was physically, 
 morally, and mentally breathing a healthy atmosphere. Now 
 for the first time Lisbeth learned to laugh and play without 
 thinking of the impression she was producing. She often 
 spoke of her pretty mamma, but as of some image of a fairy- 
 tale, which had no place in every-day life. 
 
 And one day Helena had already written twice from Brus- 
 sels in raptures with the charming city there came a letter 
 from Batti with terrible news. He and Helena had driven 
 out with a new pair of young horses ; the fiery animals had 
 run away. Helena, needlessly terrified, had jumped out
 
 310 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 of the carriage, and in so doing had received injuries from 
 which she had died in a few hours. " If I die, Johanna must 
 take care of Lisbeth," she had repeatedly declared ; and al- 
 though Batti passionately longed for his step-daughter, he 
 thought it his duty to fulfil his wife's last wishes. Perhaps 
 when Lisbeth was perfectly well Johanna might take pity 
 upon his desolate existence and bring the child to him for a 
 while. For the present, he went on to say, the sight of 
 her would be more than he could bear. And he could not 
 stay in Brussels. He should probably go immediately to St. 
 Petersburg, or to Paris, or to London. It was all the same 
 to him now, only he must flee from the place where he had 
 had so terrible an experience. But wherever he might be, he 
 should labour for Lisbeth. The hope of providing brilliantly 
 for her future was now the only tie that bound him to life 
 and that could console him for his lost happiness. 
 
 He hoped that Johanna would aid him in making the 
 child happy. She must fulfil her every wish, and surround the 
 lovely little creature with all the splendour in which Helena 
 had so delighted. 
 
 At this moment Lisbeth, who had been playing with the 
 ' little ones,' came running merrily into the room. " Hanna 
 dear, what is the matter ?" she cried, when she saw the teara 
 in her sister's eyes. 
 
 Johanna clasped her in her arms. " Come, my darling," 
 she whispered, holding her in a close embrace. " Now you 
 have no one except your sister ; now you are all my own."
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 CHANGES AT DONNINQHAUSEN. 
 
 IN Donninghausen they were looking for Johann Leopold'* 
 return. He had not informed his relatives of the precise day 
 upon which it would take place, for he wished to avoid all 
 demonstrations of welcome. Hence, when he arrived by an 
 afternoon train at Thalrode, no carriage had been sent to meet 
 him, and the innkeeper, who was wont to supply a convey- 
 ance upon such occasions, begged him, with many excuses, to 
 wait half an hour, since, because of the harvesting, all the 
 horses were in the fields. Johann Leopold ordered a glass of 
 beer to be brought to him in the summer-house, and after dis- 
 missing the garrulous host, he sat in the shady nook, contem- 
 plating his native mountains with a delight of which he had 
 not supposed himself capable. 
 
 In outward appearance he was scarcely changed. His pale 
 face was slightly tanned, his form a shade less bent, his 
 movements only a little more elastic than before his travels. 
 And within ? He was not yet entirely free from the mental 
 depression caused by the disease which he had inherited, but 
 it did not weigh upon him so heavily. The attacks of the 
 malady had for a year been very slight, and for months thero 
 had not even been any recurrence of them. Heaven might, 
 perhaps, yet smile upon him. And if, as his grandfather's last 
 letter declared, Magelone was looking forward with longing to 
 his return, if she could really love him, and would wait until 
 with a clear conscience he could call her his own ! With a sigh 
 he passed his hand over his forehead and eyes. But to-day 
 
 311
 
 312 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 these fair pictures of the future would not. as usual, be ban 
 ished ; they beckoned to him enticingly upon his return 
 to his home. And he had struggled so long against soul and 
 sense, and he was so weary of the conflict. 
 
 Approaching footsteps roused him from his revery. 
 
 " Good-day, Squire ! Are you back again ?'' called a hoarse 
 voice, and Red Jakob held out his hand to his young master. 
 
 Johann Leopold shook it as he had done since they were 
 boys together. " Well, Jakob," he said, " you look all right 
 again. I hope you and Christine are getting along well in 
 your nest in the forest." 
 
 " Thanks, Squire, as well as possible," Jakob replied ; and 
 as, without more ado, he took a seat opposite Johann Leopold, 
 he added, " I'm right glad to see you here. With the best 
 will in the world I've done a deal of mischief, and my only 
 hope is that you, Squire, will settle it all again." 
 
 " I certainly will if I can," Johann Leopold replied. " In 
 a day or two I'll come and see you, and we'll discuss the 
 matter." 
 
 " No, Squire ; you must listen now," Jakob interposed. 
 " If you get up there" he pointed toward Donninghausen 
 " and they all tell their stories, you'll never be able to under- 
 stand. But I tell you, and I'll swear to it, that the gracious 
 
 Fruleen was not to blame, and was that it was a sin and 
 
 a shame to send her off like a dog with the mange " 
 
 " Jakob, are you speaking of my cousin ?" Johann Leopold 
 Interrupted him. " Recollect yourself, and don't talk non- 
 sense. She went voluntarily to her relatives after she had 
 voluntarily broken her engagement." 
 
 " Indeed ? All for her own pleasure ?" said Jakob, with a 
 malicious grin. " Of course that's what the two say who are 
 to blame for it all. To her relatives, you say ? She has gone 
 to the circus-riders. You can read it there with your own eyes." 
 He laid a little leather wallet on the table, and with his sound
 
 CHANGES AT D^NNINGHAUSEN. 313 
 
 hand took from it a cutting from a newspaper, which he handed 
 to Johann Leopold. " Christine almost cried her eyes out 
 over it," he went on, " and I promised her that I would tell 
 you, that you may bring the gracious Fruleen back again, and 
 turn out those who deserve it." 
 
 Johann Leopold ran through Dr. Stein's newspaper notice. 
 "Nonsense!" he said, knitting his brows. "There are just 
 a<j many lies printed as uttered. But what do you mean by 
 the two who are to blame ? What business is the affair of 
 yours ? You are and always were an insolent fellow " 
 
 " Squire !" shouted Red Jakob, and an evil light shone 
 in his deep-set eyes ; but, after a pause, he continued, more 
 gently : " I do deserve a scolding this time, although not for 
 what you think. It fretted me to see the gracious Fruleen so 
 deceived. I saw them both in the forest Squire Otto and 
 Frau von Magelone who was at Klausenburg on a visit. 
 They grew bolder and bolder, and more and more loving, and 
 meanwhile the wedding-day was coming nearer and nearer. 
 At last I could not look on any longer, and I just brought 
 the gracious Fruleen upon them unexpectedly, when they were 
 clasped in each other's arms, forgetting all the world beside." 
 
 " Go on !" said Johann Leopold, who sat pale and rigid, his 
 head leaning on his hand. 
 
 Red Jakob shrugged his shoulders : " There's not much 
 more to tell. The gracious Fruleen was like a marble statue. 
 She said not one word, but her eyes looked like a dying 
 deer's. I called Christine to talk to her, but it was no use ! 
 I was afraid she'd do herself a mischief. Of course I don't 
 know what happened at the castle ; but the gracious Fruleen 
 has gone, and Squire Otto is snug and warm in Tannhagen, 
 and as for the gracious Frau von Magelone " 
 
 " That's enough, Jakob !" Johann Leopold interrupted him, 
 rising as he spoke. " Depend upon it that all that should be 
 done shall be done. There comes the carriage. You can gel 
 o 27
 
 314 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 up beside the driver, and he'll take you as far as the Klau- 
 senburg cross-roads." 
 
 " Thanks, Squire, I have something to do in Thalrode." 
 The host came running to help the Herr into the carriage. 
 Johann Leopold sank back wearily in a corner of the vehicle. 
 
 " He's no better," said Jakob, as he stood looking after his 
 master. 
 
 " And no friendlier," muttered the innkeeper. " A stiff- 
 necked, haughty set they all are at Donninghausen." 
 
 Red Jakob laughed derisively to himself. " You ought to 
 call it proud and stately !" he cried. " That kind is measured 
 by another scale and rule from what they apply to us." 
 
 And proud and stately it certainly looked when the car- 
 riage bearing home the heir drove into the court-yard, and 
 the servants came hurrying from all directions. Leo circled 
 about the conveyance barking joyously, and old Christian with 
 tears of joy opened the carriage-door, while the Freiherr in all 
 his dignity appeared at the top of the castle steps. 
 
 " God bless you, my dear boy !" he cried in sonorous tones 
 as he embraced his grandson, and his eager glance scanned 
 the face and figure of the young man, who did his best to 
 bear himself bravely. 
 
 " My dear grandfather, how glad I am to see you so un- 
 changed !" he said cordially, and then he embraced Aunt 
 Thekla, who advanced from the background, where stood 
 Magelone with blushing face, sparkling eyes, and a sweet 
 smile upon her lips. And with this same sweet, treacherous 
 smile, as Johann Leopold called it to himself, she held out 
 both hands to him, and in a tender whisper, such as he had 
 never heard from her before, breathed, " Thank God for your 
 safe and happy return !" 
 
 For a moment he was tempted, in spite of all he had heard, 
 to snatch her to his heart ; but he controlled himself, and only 
 kissed her hand. Magelone changed colour. She had ex-
 
 CHANGES AT D8NNINGHAUSEN. 315 
 
 pected a warmer greeting. The next moment, however, her 
 face was as bright as before ; Johann Leopold did not yet 
 know her sentiments with regard to him and his farewell letter. 
 He should learn them as soon as possible ; perhaps she might 
 even find a time to explain them to him to-day. 
 
 If he would only be a little more like a lover I Instead of 
 following Magelone into the garden when the Freiherr retired 
 after dinner, he joined Aunt Thekla on the terrace. 
 
 For a while he freely answered all her questions. At 
 length he said, " Aunt Thekla, I have some information to 
 ask of you. Red Jakob, whom I encountered by chance in 
 Thalrode to-day, told me some strange things, the nature of 
 which I hardly need explain to you." 
 
 Aunt Thekla made no reply, but her face betrayed her 
 dismay. 
 
 " You wrote me," Johann Leopold went on, after a pause, 
 " that you had agreed never to speak of Johanna. I am 
 sorry to grieve you, but I should be sorry to do any one in- 
 justice : therefore pray tell me, did Otto give Johanna cause 
 for jealousy ? I do not ask for any details ; I ask but a 
 simple yes or no." 
 
 " He knows everything," the old lady said to herself, and, 
 incapable of a direct denial of the truth, she answered, "Yes, 
 unfortunately 1" 
 
 Johann Leopold's head sank upon his breast. " And my 
 grandfather was told nothing of this?" he asked. 
 
 " No ; my brother thinks that Otto and Johanna quarrelled 
 on account of her paternal relatives ; that Otto required her 
 to choose between ourselves and those people " 
 
 " And Otto allowed my grandfather to remain in this 
 error?" cried Johann Leopold. 
 
 His aunt laid her hand on his arm in terror. " You will 
 not explain it to him ? Oh, I beg you, I entreat you, not 
 to do so ! You can do no good. Johanna cannot live among
 
 316 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 us again. And my brother, with his sense of honour, hii 
 
 devotion to duty Oh, I pray you spare him 1" And she 
 
 burst into tears. 
 
 " Be easy," said Johann Leopold. " I promise you to tell 
 my grandfather nothing that need not be told. One question 
 more. What do you know of Johanna ?" 
 
 " She is with her step-mother. The woman has married 
 again, the circus-rider Batti, and poor Johanna has joined 
 his troupe." 
 
 It was true, then ! Johann Leopold had put no faith in the 
 newspaper notice which Red Jakob had given him, but he now 
 reflected that this was the natural course of things. The 
 artist-blood of her father, and her step-mother's unfortunate 
 second marriage, had, when she had broken with Donning- 
 hausen, forced Johanna into the path she had taken. Perhaps, 
 with her intensity of nature, she had meant to erect an insuper- 
 able barrier between the past and the present. She had done 
 eo. This barrier was as insurmountable in Johann Leopold's 
 estimation as in the eyes of the world. Every drop of blood 
 in his body was in revolt against the rider in Carlo Batti's 
 troupe. And Aunt Thekla's ' Johanna can never live among 
 us again' was the expression of his own conviction. 
 
 That was past and done with ; but then ? Why could 
 
 not his relations with Magelone remain what they had been ? 
 And why, if he must renounce her, could he not at least retain 
 her image in stainless beauty? Her reception of him to- 
 day, after what had occurred between Otto and herself, was 
 a double treachery. Was she, perhaps, endeavouring from 
 fear of her grandfather, from remorse from a sense of duty 
 to conquer her heart ? This must not be. It was abso- 
 lutely necessary that he should resign all illusions ; he must at 
 once and forever resist temptation, fair though it was to see. 
 
 He looked up with a sigh. Magelone was just coming 
 along the avenue, her airy figure, her light curls flooded with
 
 CHANGES AT DtiNNINQHAUSEN. 317 
 
 the golden evening glow. She was, in Johann Leopold's 
 eyes, the very ideal of all beauty and grace. She lightly 
 hurried up the terrace steps, and in another moment had 
 thrown about Johann Leopold's shoulders a fragrant wreath 
 of vines and flowers. " There ! you shall not escape all re- 
 ception festivities," she said, archly. " How will you defend 
 yourself ? Flowery chains should not be torn asunder." 
 
 " Why not ? Rather a torn wreath than a withered one," 
 he answered, bitterly, as he tossed the garland aside. 
 
 " Ugh ! what a tone, and what a face !" cried Magelone. 
 1 They would do for a farewell. But when one returns, and 
 
 is received as cordially as you have been " She paused 
 
 suddenly, sat down beside Aunt Thekla, and looked abroad 
 into the park. 
 
 " A return is often sadder than a departure," said Johann 
 Leopold. " I have found much change here, and am myself 
 
 more changed than all, and this you ought- to know 
 
 Stay, Aunt Thekla !" he begged, as the old lady arose. " You 
 must hear what I have to say to Magelone." 
 
 For a moment he paused, fearful of losing his self-control, 
 then continued, with apparent calm : " It is with regard, my 
 dear Magelone, to our grandfather's desire for our marriage. 
 You have tried hard to reconcile yourself to the thought of 
 it, and I although I saw how difficult this was for you I 
 persuaded myself for a wliile that you might succeed. This 
 is over ! When I went away I meant to be magnanimous in 
 bestowing upon you a partial freedom ; it could only be par- 
 tial, since you knew me still bound. But now I relieve you 
 of this last fetter ; you owe me no further consideration. We 
 are both entirely free." 
 
 His voice had grown clear and firm. As he said the last 
 words he arose. " Good-night," he added, offering his hand 
 to his aunt and to Magelone. " You will have to excuse me. 
 I am fatigued by my journey." 
 
 27*
 
 318 A NOBLE NAML 
 
 Magelone gave him her finger-tips without looking at him, 
 but he possessed himself of her hand. " You know, do you 
 not, that I am your friend ?" he asked. " If I can ever tes- 
 tify this to you by deed, apply to me. Will you promise me 
 this?" 
 
 " Certainly. I know well how trustworthy you are !" she 
 cried, derisively, as she withdrew her hand and looked up to 
 him with a strange flickering light in her eyes. " Moreover, 
 you can do something for me immediately. I want to go 
 away 1 Beg grandpapa to let me go " 
 
 " My child, what are you thinking of?" cried Aunt Thekla. 
 And Johann Leopold asked, 
 
 " Do you wish to go on my account ?" 
 
 She tossed her head, and her cheek flushed. " On your 
 account ? What an idea ! Why, we are the very best of 
 friends !" she said, still more derisively than before. " No ; 
 it is the old Douninghausen tedium that drives me away. 
 Aunt Thekla knows how I have borne it for years." 
 
 " But, my child, you were away all last winter !" her aunt 
 remonstrated. 
 
 " In Hedwig's and Hildegard's nurseries. Am I to regard 
 that as a delight ?" exclaimed Magelone. " I should like for 
 once to have a little pleasure. I want to go to Vienna, to the 
 Walburgs' ; and from them, if I can find a good escort, I want 
 to go to St. Petersburg, to Waldemar and his wife. They 
 have invited me so often." 
 
 " Otto's brother. He is probably to be won over to approve 
 their marriage," was Johann Leopold's surmise, as he replied, 
 " I will do what I can, dear Magelone. But if, in spite of all 
 I can do, our grandfather still says no, you know he does 
 not like to have women travel without urgent reasons, you 
 will find here at hand what you look for in St. Petersburg." 
 
 He meant, an advocate of the desire of her heart. She did 
 not understand him. " What I am looking for is deliverance
 
 CHANGES AT D&NNINGHAUSEN. 319 
 
 from this place !" she cried, with burning cheeks. " If grand- 
 papa says no, I shall go without his permission. I have cas- 
 tigated myself sufficiently out of regard for the family." She 
 gathered up her long white dress, and hurried past Johann 
 Leopold down into the garden. 
 
 Aunt Thekla looked beseechingly at her nephew. " Do 
 not be angry with her ; you have each misunderstood the 
 other," she began. But he interrupted her : " I am not angry, 
 and I have not misunderstood her. On the contrary, I know 
 what she wishes and needs, and I mean, so far as I can, to 
 help her and Otto. Pray tell her this in your kind, gentle way. 
 You see I am too awkward to do so." 
 
 With these words he kissed her hand, and went into the 
 house. 
 
 The old lady looked after him in painful perplexity. At 
 first it seemed to her advisable to explain to him his error. 
 But what could she say to him ? Only that Magelone had 
 been determined to marry him. If he should wish to know 
 more, if he should ask, 'does she love me?' what could she 
 reply ? And even if he did not ask this, if he deceived him- 
 self for the time, must he not sooner or later too late, per- 
 haps discover that she did not love him ? And would she, 
 who for a fleeting fancy had not hesitated to destroy Jo- 
 hanna's happiness, could she sacredly guard Johann Leopold's 
 happiness and honour? 
 
 " If I only knew what was right !" sighed Aunt Thekla. 
 And it was only after long reflection that she found consola- 
 -tion in the conclusion that if it was the purpose of the Al- 
 ' mighty that Johaun Leopold and Magelone should be united, 
 they would be so in spite of all misunderstandings, and with- 
 out any help from an old woman. 
 
 While she was reflecting thus, Johann Leopold was standing 
 at the open window of his room, and as he looked abroad 
 over the dark masses of foliage of the park, and up to the
 
 320 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 shining stars whose rising and setting he had so often watched 
 from this very window, there came over him for the first time 
 that mighty feeling of home which at once absorbs and expands 
 all individuality. His grandfather was suddenly more com- 
 jrehensible to him than ever before, and the task to which 
 the old man had devoted himself for half a century the 
 weal and welfare of Donninghausen appeared to him in a 
 new light. For years Johann Leopold had longed for loftier 
 aims and a wider sphere of activity. Debarred from much 
 by his state of health, he had disdained what was within his 
 reach. This should be so no longer 1 He would show his 
 grandfather that he was the heir not only of his estates, but 
 of his views and intentions. 
 
 A knock at the door aroused him from his revery, and 
 upon his ' Come in,' Otto entered the room. 
 
 "Is it you?" Johann Leopold exclaimed, as he went to 
 meet his late visitor, and he offered him his hand with some 
 hesitation. Otto scarcely touched the tips of his fingers. 
 
 " Pardon my taking you by surprise at this unseasonable 
 hour," he said, as he threw his hat and gloves upon the table 
 and himself into a chair. " When our grandfather's message 
 arrived I sent word that I was not at home ; for" and he 
 pushed back the damp curls from his forehead and turned 
 upon Johann Leopold a face that looked strangely pale and 
 haggard in the lamp-light " I could not possibly sit opposite 
 
 you at table and pull an amiable face when I am in a 
 
 scrape again, and if you do not help me But what good 
 
 would it do ? Better a terrible end than terror without end !" 
 
 " Fudge ! Speak intelligibly !" Johann Leopold interposed, 
 taking a seat opposite Otto. And when the latter only stared 
 into space in silence, he added, " You have been gambling ?" 
 
 " Yes, I have been gambling," the other replied, lifting his 
 head and gazing at his cousin with a dark glow in his eyes. 
 " Drag along, as I do, from morning until night, through days
 
 CHANGES AT DGNN1NGHAUSEN. 321 
 
 that bring you nothing but one tedious occupation after 
 another, and with nothing to look forward to except the same 
 dull round in the same d d tread-mill, for as long, at least, as 
 your fate depends upon the whims of a narrow-minded, stub- 
 born old man " 
 
 " Otto ! you forget yourself!" Johann Leopold interrupted 
 him, sternly. " You choose the time ill for accusing others. 
 You need help. You shall have it ; but upon condition ' 
 
 " That I promise never to touch a card again !" Otto ex- 
 claimed, with an ugly laugh. " Of course I'll promise. But 
 if the desire attacks me " He broke off with a shrug. 
 
 " When the desire attacks you there is no help save in 
 your own firm will," said Johann Leopold. " I know this, 
 and in this respect I leave you entirely to yourself. All that 
 I can do is to relieve you from embarrassing circumstances." 
 
 " Embarrassing ?" Otto repeated. " Only embarrassing ? 
 Rather say desperate ! What am I but the farmer of a small 
 property ? I, who detest farming ; I, who am made for a 
 soldier !" 
 
 " But you voluntarily left the army," said Johann Leopold. 
 Otto's eyes fell beneath his cousin's look. 
 
 " No, not voluntarily ; by the old man's orders," he replied. 
 " Odd that he never wrote you how it waa. It was all the 
 fault of my unlucky passion for play. I had made a promise, 
 and forgotten it, and he decreed that I should no longer wear 
 the king's uniform." 
 
 " He will reverse that decree," said Johann Leopold. " I 
 will represent to him " 
 
 " You needn't trouble yourself. So long as he lives I must 
 eat dirt. But if I had the means " 
 
 " For what ?" Johann Leopold asked, when Otto paused, 
 
 " To enter the Russian Guards," Otto replied. " A great 
 deal is to be done there by patronage. Waldemar could b 
 of service to me "
 
 322 A XOBLE NAME. 
 
 Johann Leopold was strangely moved. Was it mens 
 chance, unconscious sympathy, that caused both to desire to 
 go to Russia ? At all events, he would help them as far as 
 lay in his power. 
 
 " I will supply the means," he said. " While I was away 
 I inherited, as you probably know, the estates of my mother's 
 eldest brother. My income from the Bohemian coal-mines 
 will suffice for your needs. I will make it over to you. Do 
 not thank me 1" he added, as Otto started up, with an excla- 
 mation of astonishment. " It is not a gift, but a matter of 
 exchange." 
 
 " Exchange ? I do not understand," cried Otto. 
 
 " Then listen P said Johann Leopold. And leaning his head 
 upon his hand, so that his eyes were shaded, he went on, 
 composedly : " I shall never marry " 
 
 " Johann Leopold 1" Otto exclaimed. 
 
 " I shall never marry," he repeated, quietly ; " but I do not 
 wish to renounce the task, and I consider it an interesting and 
 delightful one, of educating a Donninghausen heir. A month 
 ago, as you know, a son was born to your brother Waldemar. 
 The infant's grandmother Walburg, our grandfather, and 1 
 are to stand sponsors, and it is my wish to adopt the little 
 Johann Karl Leopold. Of course the future heir must be 
 brought up here. Waldemar must agree to that, and our 
 grandfather will be glad " 
 
 " And I ?" cried Otto. " There seems to be no question of 
 me here. Please do not forget that I am the elder brother, 
 and that, if you do not marry, the inheritance of Donning- 
 hausen falls to me and to my heirs." 
 
 " I tell you all this simply because I do not forget," said 
 Johann Leopold. " I detest family quarrels and lawsuits. 
 I should not like to leave Donninghausen encumbered with 
 any such, and therefore I propose a friendly settlement to 
 you."
 
 CHANGES AT D$NNINGHAUSEN. 323 
 
 " Friendly ?" Otto repeated, with bitterness. " True ! A 
 birthright for a mess of pottage !" 
 
 Johann Leopold raised his head, and his eyes flashed. 
 " No ; it is not that," he said. " Our grandfather would, 
 without my interference, use every means to cut you off from 
 the inheritance. Whether he would be justified in doing so 
 you may settle for yourself. Moreover, I remain in possession 
 during my life ; and, in spite of my ill health, I may live to be 
 an old man. I cannot, then, in all seriousness, regard either 
 as unfriendly or uncousinly my offer to you of real advan- 
 tages in exchange for your relinquishment of a more or lesa 
 imaginary right. Think it over. Do not hurry yourself. 
 The only thing requiring haste is your gambling debt. How 
 much do you want ?'' 
 
 Otto named the sum. Without a word, Johann Leopold 
 wrote a cheque for the amount and handed it to him. When 
 Otto was about to utter some expression of gratitude he checked 
 him. " No need to thank me. I do it for the sake of the 
 name we both bear." He did not wish that Otto should feel 
 humiliated. 
 
 But he was humiliated. As the door closed behind him 
 after a hasty ' good-night,' he struck his forehead with his 
 clinched fist, and murmured, " To have to accept this from 
 Johann Leopold 1 A bullet through my brains would be 
 better !" 
 
 In this mood he returned to Tannhagen. The empty rooms 
 looked more cheerless than ever, he could not but be per- 
 petually reminded of Johanna. Ever and anon he seemed to 
 see against the dark background a pale face, the dark eyes 
 dilated with horror, the Medusa head which had appeared 
 to Magelone and himself that morning in the forest. No, he 
 could not go on living thus ! And why should he, when the 
 possibility of beginning a new existence was offered him? 
 There was a high price to pay for it, a birthright for a mess
 
 324 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 of pottage. But so much the better. It would be the ran- 
 som of his soul. How haughtily Johana Leopold had con- 
 fronted him ! with what maddening coldness he had rejected 
 his thanks for the service he had rendered him ! Johann 
 Leopold the Just, to the prodigal of the family ! But what 
 if his coldness was the result of another cause? Did he know 
 of Magelone's breach of faith ? Was that why he would not 
 marry ? And Otto laughed scornfully was he exacting 
 payment for his lost happiness, instead of making the guilty 
 man a target for his pistol ? 
 
 " I don't care. I will liberate myself!" Otto concluded his 
 soliloquy. And before he went to bed he wrote to Johana 
 Leopold that he accepted his proposal, and was ready to agree 
 to an immediate legal settlement of the affair. 
 
 In a few weeks everything was arranged. Johann Leopold 
 had explained to the Freiherr that he was convinced of the 
 incurability of his inherited malady, and the Freiherr acqui- 
 esced without a murmur in what was inevitable. He thought 
 Magelone's reluctance to living for the present beneath the 
 same roof with Johann Leopold very natural. It was more 
 difficult, however, to induce him to agree to Otto's new plans. 
 He declared indeed, with bitter decision, that Otto never 
 should be intrusted with Donninghausen, but he could not 
 comprehend the young man's voluntary relinquishment of his 
 rights. It irritated him afresh against the grandson whom 
 he had hardly yet received again into favour, and at last he 
 agreed that it would be well for Otto to go away, adding that 
 it had best be as soon as possible: all pains were thrown 
 away upon him. So Magelone went to visit the \Valburgs 
 in Vienna, and Otto went to St. Petersburg. It was lonely 
 at Donninghausen.
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 A.N OLD FRIEND ONCE MORE. 
 
 A YEAR and a half had passed since Johanna first 
 to live in ' Terrace-Cottage,' near the Kahlenberg Thor. It 
 was the close of a gray December day ; she could not see to 
 write any longer. She rose from the table, and went to the 
 window to read by the fading Jight, in a famous South Ger- 
 man periodical brought her by Dr. Wolf, a favourable criti- 
 cism of her book, which had recently appeared. As she read, 
 she was both pleased and grieved. Whore were all those in 
 whose hearts her own joy might have found an echo? 
 
 But the next moment she raised her head, and brushed 
 away her tears. Had she not reason to be glad and grateful ? 
 " Indeed I have," she said to herself. And as she gazed out 
 in the twilight upon the gleaming expanse of snow, she re- 
 viewed in spirit all that life had brought her here. 
 
 First of all there was a long series of apparently monoto- 
 nous, but in reality very beneficial, days of hard work, in 
 which the joy and pain of her creative fancy had worn away 
 her heart-ache, until there had come an hour which she never 
 should forget. 
 
 It was in harvest ; she was walking just after sunset beside a 
 hedge-row. White gossamers floated in the clear air ; all around 
 her there was absolute silence. Suddenly a joyous note rang 
 out from far above her. It was a belated lark. She looked up, 
 surprised, and in that very moment she had the sudden con- 
 sciousness of relief and freedom which had so long been un- 
 known to her. Since then she had been able to think of 
 28 325
 
 326 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 Otto, without bitterness, as of an entire stranger. She still 
 had a sense of having lost something fair and sweet ; but her 
 inmost self was untouched, her true life undisturbed. 
 
 Thus restored to mental health, she had learned to rejoice in 
 her new existence, in her work for its own sake, in her gradual 
 improvement and success, and the result which she achieved. 
 Many an acknowledgment, many a word of encouragement, 
 many a kindly salutation, had reached her in her solitude, and 
 had given her the assurance that she had not written in vain. 
 
 And how her very heart and soul had been fed by Lisbeth's 
 love, and the child's health and progress ! When the terrible 
 news had come from Brussels, the little one had cried bitterly 
 for her dear pretty mamma, whom she should never see again. 
 But childhood's tears are soon dried ; Lisbeth soon smiled 
 through hers. Her new home became her world, and every 
 one in the house petted and loved the little orphan. 
 
 Johanna, however, was the dearest 'confidante of her child- 
 ish heart, and an evening walk with her through the silent 
 fields, the hour of quiet talk before she went to bed, the 
 tete-d-tete of the sisters at their early breakfast, were Lisbeth's 
 cherished enjoyments. 
 
 Johanna's hope that the child would be left solely to her caro 
 had been fulfilled. Batti had written only once after his first 
 outpouring of despair and grief. He had thea sent trunks full 
 of expensive dresses, etc., to be kept for Lisbeth ; and since no 
 word had come from him. Johanna saw in the newspaper that 
 he had passed the winter in Paris instead of St. Petersburg, 
 and that was all that she knew, and even more than she 
 wished to know, concerning him. She did not conceal from 
 herself for a moment the magnitude of the responsibility 
 which thus devolved upon her ; but she felt strong and capable. 
 She wrote upon her blotting-book the homely old motto, 
 
 " Do thou but begin the weaving, 
 God the yarn will aye be giving."
 
 AN OLD FRIEND ONCE MORE. 327 
 
 Thus far it had been given to her, and she would always heed 
 Goethe's admonition, " Go to work and help yourself for the 
 present, and hope and trust in God for the future." 
 
 And yet, in spite of all that she possessed, and most fre- 
 quently when she was vividly conscious of how much this 
 was, she was tormented by a painful sense of deprivation. 
 Her intercourse with the members of the household was most 
 friendly. Dr. Wolf visited her frequently, was her faithful 
 adviser, brought her books and periodicals, intellectual food 
 of all kinds ; but with increasing hunger she longed for Aunt 
 Thekla's maternal care, the society of her grandfather, and 
 Ludwig's faithful, honest affection. 
 
 She never allowed herself any indulgence in this species of 
 Lome- sickness; and now, as always when it attacked her, she 
 strove to distract her thoughts ; she would call Lisbeth, who 
 was playing with the ' little ones,' and she had just opened her 
 own door to do so, when the landing-door was hastily flung 
 wide. 
 
 Involuntarily she stood still. The dogs barked, the door-bell 
 rang violently with the shock, and a man addressed a ques,- 
 tion to her from the gathering darkness. She did not under- 
 stand it, but she knew the voice. 
 
 " Ludwig !" she almost screamed, and the next moment 
 ehe was clasped in his arms. 
 
 And then came the ' little ones' with the dogs and a light, 
 to see what was the matter. Their shouts brought the rest of 
 the family. There were delight, surprise, tears, and laughter. 
 Dear Dr. Werner was conducted to the drawing-room in tri- 
 umph, and there he sat beneath the hanging-lamp, to be gazed 
 at by all. How brown he had grown ! and how much darker 
 were his hair and beard ! His eyes, on the contrary, looked 
 lighter. Sanna asked if the Indian sun had not faded them 
 a little. 
 
 How strange that he had been in India, and yet here he
 
 328 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 was in Hanover, sitting at their little round table just as he 
 had sat there three years ago ! Thus the ' little ones' chattered 
 on, learning, in answer to their questions, that he had just 
 come from London, and was going to spend his Christmas at 
 Lindenbad, whilst the older sisters consulted as to what should 
 be served for supper in honour of their guest, and regretted 
 that this was their father's glee-club evening. The poor 
 mother's thoughts were filled with her lost darling, and Li*- 
 beth stood in the background, with her arm about Johanna's 
 neck, eying with some suspicion this stranger who called her 
 Bister ' Johanna' and seemed so glad to see her. 
 
 She would have remained at her post when Frau Rup- 
 precht called her children from the room to give the foster- 
 brother and sister an opportunity for a quiet talk, but Jetta 
 carried her off without more ado. 
 
 " At last !" cried Ludwig, holding out both hands to Jo- 
 hanna, and then words seemed to fail him for what he wanted 
 to say. 
 
 After a pause, Johanna asked, " Did you come to see me or 
 the Rupprechts? I mean, did you know that I was here?" 
 
 " Yes, I have known it for a few days," he replied ; and he 
 added, with a gloomy air, and in his old harsh tone, " Bad 
 enough it was to have to hear it from strangers. Why did you 
 never write to me ?" 
 
 " I could not !" 
 
 " You could not !" he repeated, and his lips quivered. 
 Neither spoke. How they had longed for this meeting, and 
 
 now What still separated them ? Suddenly Ludwig 
 
 laughed derisively : " A game of hide-and-seek. I sit, ab- 
 sorbed in my work in London, supposing you married, and 
 asking no further questions, and Johann Leopold imagines I 
 know everything from yourself. And did you never write to 
 Lindenbad ?" 
 
 She shook her head. " My correspondence with Mathilde
 
 AN OLD FRIEND ONCE MORE. 329 
 
 had languished for a long time, and I do not like to con plain," 
 , she said. He took her words as a hint, and said, evasively, 
 " Let me tell you how I discovered you. On a visit to a pa- 
 tient I do not practise usually, but I could not refuse the 
 urgent request of a few of my countrymen I found her full 
 of delight in a German book which she had just read. She 
 showed me the title-page. The odd motto reminded me of 
 you: ' Do thou but begin the weaving, God the yarn will aye 
 be giving.' Do you remember how we quarrelled over it 
 once? As I was recollecting this, I turned over the leaves 
 mechanically. I seemed to recognize your manner of speech, 
 your way of looking at men and things. Yes, there was Lin- 
 denbad, and even the garden-gate from which we have so often 
 watched the sunset with my blessed mother. I took the book 
 home with me, and read it steadily until I had finished it 1 
 reading a woman's romance ! And as I laid it aside I said 
 to myself, 'Either she wrote it, or there exists somewhere her 
 twin mind.' This was interesting psychologically. You can 
 guess the rest. Day before yesterday I received an answer 
 from your publisher. And now it is your turn to tell what 
 you wish to. Only what you wish to," he added, with some 
 bitterness. " I know that the old right is no longer mint,, 
 and I do not lay claim to it." 
 
 His last sentence hurt Johanna, and closed her heart and 
 her lips. She gave him only the outlines of all that she had 
 passed through. Ludwig supposed that it pained her too 
 much to dwell upon it. Thus they still played ' hide-and- 
 seek' with each other, and when they were no longer alone, 
 Johanna scarcely knew whether to rejoice in their meeting 
 again. 
 
 The next morning Ludwig was to leave Hanover : he was 
 expected in Lindenbad ; but he came early to Terrace-Cot- 
 tage, knocked at Johanna's door, and found her alone. 
 
 " Now it is your turn to give an account of yourself," said 
 2S*
 
 330 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 Johanna, after the first salutations. And he told her, in his old, 
 familiar way, of his travels, his researches, his work and ita 
 results. More than all it seemed to delight him that he had 
 lately been proffered a chair in a German university. Jo- 
 hanna asked if he should accept it. 
 
 " I do not know ; it depends," he replied, with some hesita- 
 tion. "But enough of myself. I think you are changed; it 
 strikes me to-day, by daylight, for the first time. You are 
 pale, you look weary. Have you been ill?" 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 " Then you work too much, you take too little exercise." 
 And, with a glance toward her writing-table, he added, " How 
 did you happen upon authorship ? I cannot understand it." 
 
 " Recollect how I always loved to ' make up' stories," Jo- 
 hanna replied. " The love grew with my years. Thank God 
 that it was so ! My desire to go upon the stage was only a 
 misconception of my task." 
 
 " Task ?" he repeated. " You do not believe that anything, 
 save the force of outward circumstances, drove you to write ? 
 Do not deceive yourself " 
 
 " Most assuredly I do believe it!" she interrupted him, and 
 her eyes sparkled with pleasure. " The longing for some little 
 corner of the earth in which I could plant my flowers was 
 there long before necessity forced me to labour; and then, when 
 the crash came both in my outward and my inner life, the 
 talent which I possessed supplied the place of home and friends 
 and love, or rather, let me say, restored them to me ; for all of 
 these that I had ever possessed came back to me in the crea- 
 tions of my imagination." 
 
 Ludwig sat with downcast eyes, silent, his forehead contracted 
 in a frown. 
 
 " Do not look so stern !" Johanna said. " I am my father's 
 daughter ; and if I have inherited only an atom of his grand 
 artistic gift, I must receive it as the one talent intrusted to
 
 AN OLD FRIEND ONCE MORE. 331 
 
 me, and trade witli it as did the servant who was faithful in 
 a few things." v 
 
 Ludwig knew and loved the low, trembling tone in which 
 the last words were spoken. And her eyes, too, shone as in 
 their old youthful days. With a gentler expression he re- 
 joined, " We'll say no more of that ; it really is in your 
 blood. Opposition is useless. Only one question : What did 
 the Donninghausens say to it?" 
 
 " They knew nothing about it," replied Johanna. " Some- 
 times, since my book has been so wel 1 received, I have thought 
 it might have pleased them." 
 
 Ludwig did not appear to have heard the last part of her 
 reply. " Your writing, then, was not the cause of your break 
 with Otto?" he asked. 
 
 " No ; Otto did not love me, he never loved me, I had 
 proof of that," she replied. " Of course I tell this only to 
 you. Grandpapa never would forgive Otto." 
 
 " Otto, Otto, always Otto !" thought Ludwig, as he rose. " I 
 must go," he said ; but when Johanna took the hand he held 
 out to her, he seemed absolutely unable to leave her. " Come 
 with me to Lindenbad," he begged. " That would be our 
 best Christmas." 
 
 She shook her head. " Scarcely for your sister," she re- 
 plied. " And what would become of Lisbeth ? I cannot 
 leave her alone, and if I could venture to take her such a 
 journey in winter, she would feel strange and lonely at Lin- 
 denbad, and would be still less welcome than I to Mathilde, 
 who is not fond of children." 
 
 Ludwig took up his hat. " Excuses of all kinds ; 1 
 yield 1" he said, in an irritated tone. " Farewell. Au revoir .'" 
 And, with one more cordial clasp of her hand, he was gone. 
 
 " Write to me !" Johanna begged. But the door closed 
 quickly, and she could not be sure that he had heard the 
 words.
 
 332 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 He certainly was in no hurry to fulfil her request. The 
 Holy-tide came and went, bringing her no word from him. 
 Johanna took herself to task for continuing to watch and 
 to hope, and for her inability to rid herself of the memories 
 which seeing him again had aroused within her. Wherever 
 she was in church, in the Rupprecht family circle, at her 
 writing-table Lindenbad and Donninghausen were always 
 present to her. 
 
 And at last Johanna could not avoid an impression that 
 some subtile psychological influence had been at work she 
 received a sign of life from both places. The longed-for en- 
 velope from Lindenbad arrived, enclosing a letter to Ludwig 
 from Johann Leopold, to which the former had only added a 
 few lines. Johann Leopold wrote : 
 
 " DONNINGHAUSEN, December 23, 1876. 
 
 " MY DEAR FRIEND, Although it has now been for some 
 years my custom to look to you for aid and counsel, I would 
 spare you my present application if I knew of any one to turn 
 to in youi stead. Therefore I trust you will forgive me for 
 alluding to painful subjects, which we have hitherto avoided 
 mentioning to each other. 
 
 " I have just seen by the paper that the ' equestrian artist, 
 Carlo Batti, has gone with his circus to St. Petersburg for the 
 winter. My cousin Otto recently procured a position there 
 as an officer in the Guards, and a fear lest a meeting between 
 Johanna and himself might give occasion to fresh scandal, 
 and that Johanna's connection with our family might be used 
 anew as an advertisement for the circus, leads me to write 
 to you. I do not wish to blame Johanna for what she did 
 in the glow of her first indignation ; although I confess I 
 thought hers a nobler nature than it proved itself to be. She 
 should not have entirely forgotten all regard for our family, 
 and especially for her grandfather's personal feeling, and she
 
 ^4A T OLD FRIEND ONCE MORE. 333 
 
 must not do it a second time. Will you represent this to her. 
 my dear doctor ? You have more influence with the unfortu- 
 nate girl than I have. Also pray remind her that Waldemar, 
 Otto's brother, with his young wife, lives in St. Petersburg. 
 I hope that it will need only this reminder to induce Johanna, 
 now that her first anger is past, to spare us. If which I 
 can scarcely suppose possible you no longer have any inter- 
 course with Johanna, and do not know her address, it will, 
 I should think, be enough to direct your letter to Batti's 
 circus, St. Petersburg. 
 
 " The post is just leaving, wherefore pray accept a hasty 
 farewell for the present from your sincere friend, 
 
 " J. L. VON DONNINGHAUSEN." 
 
 With this letter came a few lines from Ludwig, written in 
 evident agitation : 
 
 " DEAR JOHANNA, Little as I am able from the scanty 
 information furnished me by you to understand the contents 
 of the enclosed letter, I gather from it that Herr 0. v. D. 
 has explained your separation from him by a tissue of vile 
 falsehoods. You will instantly send me the requisite details, 
 that I may acquaint your relatives with his rascality. Do not 
 imagine that you can prevent me from doing so. I shall find 
 means at any rate to learn the truth. It is bad enough that ycu, 
 for the sake of a scoundrel, have suppressed it for so long. ;> 
 
 This was not the salutation for which Johanna had longed, 
 and yet in these angry lines she found once more the faithful 
 dictatorial friend of her early girlhood, and a sensation of 
 being protected, from which she had long been debarred, took 
 possession of her. He must not, indeed, be allowed to inter- 
 fere at Db'nninghausen ; but it did her good to know that he 
 ras ready to do battle for her with his old fiery zeal.
 
 334 A NOBLE NAME 
 
 Thus cheered, she sat down to reply to his note. She could 
 not, however, find words for just what she wished to say, and 
 when she read over her finished letter it seemed to her cold 
 and insufficient ; nevertheless, it had to be sent immediately, 
 lest Ludwig should be left to discover the truth after his own 
 fashion. 
 
 She wrote : " I thank you from my heart, my dear Ludwig, 
 for your care for me, and for all that you wish to do and would 
 do in my interest, if you were right in your suppositions. But 
 you have misunderstood my expressions, as well as Johann Leo- 
 pold's letter. Otto is not to blame for the report that I am 
 become a rider in the circus, but Carlo Batti himself, who 
 hoped thus to force me to a career for which he thought I had 
 a talent. Probably the enclosed notice, which was written by a 
 friend of Batti's, has fallen into Johann Leopold's hands. Pray 
 tell him the real state of the case, and that I am not responsible 
 for the false statements of the newspaper. I pray you to forego 
 all further explanations ; not that Otto may be spared, but for 
 my grandfather's sake, that he may be saved from fresh mortifi 
 cation and pain. Aunt Thekla, who knows all about it, not 
 only agrees with me in this view of affairs, but desires that I 
 should be silent to my grandfather as to the true reason for my 
 break with Otto. That I concealed it from you also was the 
 result pray believe this not of any regard for Otto, but of a 
 certain sense of shame, and of repugnance to discuss the affair. 
 In my own mind I am so entirely separated from Otto that 
 even my memory of him seems something quite apart from 
 myself. I had hoped that you perceived this at our last in- 
 terview. Since you did not, I am glad of an opportunity to 
 tell you that it is so, for I long to have you understand me 
 thoroughly as in the dear old days. Were you perhaps led 
 astray by some expression of mine of home-sickness for my 
 grandfather or Donninghausen ? These are separations the 
 pain of which I never shall overcome. But I know that they
 
 AN OLD FRIEND ONCE MORE. 335 
 
 are irrevocable, and I pray you also to accept them as such 
 Write me that you do, and then tell me how you all are, and 
 whether you have concluded to remain in Germany. How 
 glad I shall be if you have !" 
 
 The letter was sent. Johanna reckoned up the time that 
 must pass before the answer to it could arrive. But days 
 went by in anxious expectation, and again she tried, in vain, 
 to direct her thoughts into another channel. 
 
 Waking and dreaming, her mind was occuj/ietl with Lud- 
 wig. " We must study each other anew," she said lo herself.
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 THE TRUTH AT LAST. 
 
 THIS year also Hildegard and Hedwig found a pretext for 
 omitting the Christmas visit to Donninghausen. Thus on the 
 afternoon of Christmas day only the old brother and sister, 
 with Johann Leopold, were sitting around the fire in the 
 drawing-room. Conversation halted more and more, for al- 
 though the thoughts of all three were occupied alike, and all 
 knew that this was so, they shrank from giving utterance 
 to the sensation of loneliness that possessed them. At last 
 nothing was heard save the howling of the wind, the ticking 
 of the clock, and the crash now and then of a burning log, 
 which would send a shower of sparks up the chimney, and be 
 followed by a brighter blaze. And as the flickering flame re- 
 vealed in strong relief now the erect head o the Freiherr, now 
 Aunt Thekla's delicate, placid face, and now shone in Johann 
 Leopold's dark, melancholy eyes, changing pictures of the past 
 also appeared, images of youth and joy, delightful tasks, 
 dear, unforgotten forms ascended from the grave, lost happi- 
 ness, love betrayed, confidence misplaced. Who does not know 
 the phantom train, lengthening from year to year, that glides 
 by us upon life's landmarks ? Aunt Thekla gazed after it 
 with tearful eyes, Johann Leopold in proud resignation, and 
 the Freiherr with a desire to bid defiance to the past and to 
 clutch what still seemed to him worth possessing. It was he 
 who at last broke the silence. 
 
 " This can't go on so !" he said, rising and pacing the 
 room to and fro, after his usual fashion. " Next year, God 
 836
 
 THE TRUTH AT LAST. 337 
 
 willing, shall see childish faces around our Christmas-tree. 
 The future heir belongs to us. Since Waldemar has just had 
 another boy, he must give us the oldest." 
 
 " He never will do that, I am quite sure," Johann Leopold 
 replied. " And if he would, the mother could not be per- 
 suaded to consent to it. But I hope they will all come. I 
 have long been wanting to talk of this to you, sir. Walde- 
 mar is heartily weary of diplomacy, his wife cannot get used 
 to the climate of St. Petersburg, and for the children it is 
 positive poison. Moreover, there is Otto's position in society. 
 Really, they could not do better than fold their tents and 
 return." 
 
 " Apropos, what about Monsieur Otto ?" said the Freiherr. 
 " Klausenburg had some incredible tales from a St. Petersburg 
 acquaintance of the brilliant figure the fellow is cutting. Ele- 
 gant establishment, troops of servants, fine equipages, valuable 
 horses, champagne suppers, immense losses at cards. Where 
 the deuce does he get the money for it all ? You promised 
 me not to let him bleed you any i'urther " 
 
 " And I have kept my word," said Johann Leopold. " More- 
 over, he has made no demands upon me except for what I 
 gave him. He has found some friends lady friends, I 
 hear " 
 
 " What ! There was truth iu that scandal, then !" cried the 
 Freiherr, pausing in his walk. " Klausenburg hinted as 
 much, but I cut him short. How do you know anything about 
 it?" 
 
 " Waldemar wrote me. An old princess and the wife of 
 * former brandy-dealer were mentioned. Waldemar is in- 
 tensely mortified " 
 
 " No need of that," the Freiherr interposed. " We have 
 been long-suffering enough. Now turn the scoundrel out of 
 
 doors, and Basta ! There are black sheep in every family ! 
 
 Let him go !" An energetic flourish of his hand emphasized 
 f v> 29
 
 338 ^ NOBLE NAME. 
 
 his words. The Freiherr walked on silently for a few mo- 
 ments, and then said, " We were talking of Waldemar's pos- 
 sible return. What could we do with him here ? It is not 
 his fashion to play the sluggard." 
 
 " No need for him to do that," Johann Leopold replied. 
 " You know, sir, they wish to make a county magistrate of me, 
 and my election to the next Reichstag is as good as certain. 
 I do not wish to refuse the nomination, but to fill the position 
 as it should be filled I must resign, in part at least, my duties 
 here. As far as the farming interest is concerned, I know 
 that if you will consent to supply my place there, it could not 
 be in better hands, and I will make over to Waldemar the 
 forests and foundries. With the improvements which I am 
 contemplating they will keep him very busy, and he will be 
 well satisfied. They were always his hobby. There is room 
 in Donninghausen for all of us, and I long, as you do, to 
 watch the growth of the young shoots about the old trunk." 
 
 " You're right, my lad !" exclaimed the Freiherr. And, 
 pausing beside his sister, he added, " What do you think, 
 Thekla ? Should not you and I grow young and jolly again 
 if we had merry little feet tripping about us ? Who knows, 
 if there is the sound of laughter here once more, whether that 
 vagabond Magelone will not come home again? "Does it 
 never occur to her that the Walburgs may tire of her in 
 time ?" 
 
 " Dear Johann, she is going to Hedwig shortly," Aunt 
 Thekla made answer. " She does not like to be here " 
 
 " Nonsense 1" the Freiherr interrupted her. " What would 
 be the consequence if everybody whose hopes were disap- 
 pointed ran away ? This tramping round among the Wildeu- 
 hayns and Walburgs is positively disreputable. Write that 
 to her ; do you hear?" 
 
 The servant brought in the lamp. When he had departed, 
 Johann Leopold said, " I have something to tell you of Mage-
 
 THE TRUTH AT LAST. 339 
 
 lone. An hour ago I received a letter by express. I could 
 not make up my mind to tell you before " 
 
 " Deuce take you, lad ! Out with it 1" cried the Freiherr. 
 " What is the matter with the child ? Is she sick dead ?" 
 
 " Nothing of the kind. She has only asserted her right 
 to do as she pleases. She is married " 
 
 " Married !" the brother and sister exclaimed, as with one 
 voice. And the Freiherr added, angrily, "Go on ! Why 
 all this humming and hawing?" 
 
 " I only know the bare fact. I received a printed an- 
 nouncement," said Johann Leopold. " But with it came a 
 note for you, Aunt Thekla." 
 
 Aunt Thekla took her note with a trembling hand. 
 
 " Read it aloud !" her brother ordered ; but she could not. 
 Eyes and voice refused to obey her. 
 
 "Will you do it?" she whispered, handing the perfumed 
 sheet to Johann Leopold. And shading his eyes with his hand 
 so as to shield his face from observation, he read clearly 
 and calmly, 
 
 " ' Forgive me, dearest and best of aunts, for coming to 
 you with a request the fulfilment of which is no trifle. But 
 I know your kindness, and I know, too, from life-long expe- 
 rience, that even when you are displeased with me you are 
 always trying to excuse me both in thought and word. Do 
 it now to grandpapa, and love me still. I rely upon you. 
 
 " If my confession were only made ! Or if I only knew 
 how to begin ! The beginning is simply that I was quite as 
 unable to endure life in the Walburg Dorcas-meetings as in 
 the Wildenhayn nursery. I told you, soon after my going to 
 the Walburgs, of my bitter disappointment in the imperial 
 city of Vienna. But since then the philanthropic craze of 
 the mother and the virtuous fanaticism of the daughters have 
 increased to such a degree that they nearly drove me wild. 
 Now please don't look angry, dear Aunt Thekla ! Does not
 
 340 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 even Goethe say, ifr's the only thing of his I ever remem- 
 bered, 
 
 'Rather pursue evil courses than be thus bored'? 
 
 " I wrote you of our Charity bazaar. I had a table at it. 
 The children of darkness have the reputation of greater 
 wisdom than the children of light, and I really did a brilliant 
 business. Not one was left of all the abominations confided 
 to the watchful care of my beautiful eyes. Most of them were 
 bought by a young and elegant man, who appeared morning 
 and afternoon of each of the three days that the fair lasted, 
 and paid furious court to me. Chance or let us call it 
 Providence so willed it that we had a common acquaintance, 
 at whose house we met again, and I learned to know his 
 parents. Mamma, short, stout, decolletee, and loaded with 
 diamonds ; papa, tall, thin, with bony hands, and a genius 
 for money-making. His father slaughtered oxen ; he slaugh- 
 tered estates, then engaged in some of these new-fangled 
 speculations, and is said to have accumulated several millions. 
 His wife is an innkeeper's daughter. Her paternal mansion 
 
 is still to be seen in K Street. Both were charming to 
 
 me. Both shared in their son's wishes, that is, they thirsted 
 for my blue blood, while he coveted my entire self. The poor 
 fellow is really head over ears in love with me, which, in 
 contrast with his usual lilase condition, produces a comically 
 pathetic effect. I knew only too well that grandpapa never 
 would give his consent ; so at last I carried out a coup d'etat 
 which Pepi his baptismal name is Felix devised. It was 
 impossible for us to be married in Vienna with no pomp. or 
 parade. It would have been too great a blow to parental 
 vanity. So I took leave of the Walburgs to go to Herstadt, 
 but in fact I arrived in Paris. Felix followed me, and since 
 the day before yesterday I have been the Baroness Erlenbusch 
 of Erlenbusch of Veldes on the Saar.
 
 THE TRUTH AT LAST. 341 
 
 " Thank heaven ! there it is at last on paper, and off my 
 mind ! And now, dear, darling, heavenly aunt, be kind. 
 Please ! please ! I fold my hands and bend my knees, and, 
 look ! there is a real genuine tear just fallen on the paper ; 
 for in spite of the frivolity which, through no fault of mine, 
 I have inherited, I love you all, you odd, proud, honest, 
 serious Dbnninghausens ; and if I do not any longer live 
 among you, I prize my right to a home within your old 
 walls. You then must contrive, carissima, to have me come 
 to you some day with Felix. Don't be afraid. He is per- 
 fectly presentable : tall, slender, elegant, with a little more 
 repose he would really look distinguished. Is he so, in fact ? 
 Qui vivra verra! At all events, he is very much of a gen- 
 tleman. A connoisseur in all branches of sport; in horses, in 
 the ballet, and in ballerine. He plays, bets, owns magnificent 
 racers, and can dissipate his father's speedily- acquired mil- 
 lions as speedily in a thousand ways. You would remind me 
 of poor Wilfried, and would ask how I can stake my happinesa 
 upon the same card again ? Dearest aunt, I was famished for 
 pleasure, life, movement, splendour, beauty, love, for all 
 that I have foregone these many years. Now I am drinking 
 deep of all of them. We shall spend our honeymoon here in 
 Paris, the paradis des femmes, and then go back to Vienna. 
 But before that I must hear from you, one word of love, of 
 forgiveness, of hope, addressed to ' Baroness Magelone of Er- 
 lenbusch, posfe restante, Paris.' 
 
 " The name is not beautiful, neither is it ancient ; but 
 make up your mind to it, and accept it and the new grand- 
 Bon and great-nephew, as I must accept my father- and 
 mother-in-law. Ye saints above ! fancy them in my draw- 
 ing-room ! But I shall clinch my teeth and be amiable. 
 Mother-in-law's diamonds will cover many a faux pas, and a 
 man who wallows in millions, as does my father-in-law, need 
 not be so very particular about his linen. Thus you see that 
 29*
 
 342 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 my new pathway in life is not without its thorns. Wherefore 
 I fervently entreat you to obtain grandpapa's foigiveness for 
 
 me, that I may at least flee to you in thought if but, 
 
 Magelone ! should thoughts such as these be entertained by 
 a young and adored wife ? Oh, if I could only show you my 
 wedding-dress, dearest aunt ! 
 
 ' I've glittering diamonds and jewels, 
 I've all that the heart could desire, 
 And mine are the loveliest eyes, to ' 
 
 " And if you will only forgive me, all is well, and I am 
 forever your happy MAGELONE." 
 
 During the reading of this letter the Freiherr had been 
 pacing deliberately to and fro, and he continued to do so in 
 silence. Johann Leopold, having read it, said nothing, but 
 gazed thoughtfully into the fire. Aunt Thekla took the letter 
 and read it through again to herself. Magelone's entreaty 
 for forgiveness touched her heart. The young creature wag 
 right ; Aunt Thekla could not be angry with her long. The 
 sins of her frivolity were atoned for by her grace. Once 
 more it was the old lady's earnest desire to befriend her 
 spoiled darling ; and, summoning up all her courage, she said, 
 at last, 
 
 " Dear brother, I must answer this. What shall I write ?" 
 " Whatever you choose !" he cried, as he passed hei. 
 Suddenly he turned short round, and came up to the table 
 upon which stood the lamp. His face wore a marble look of 
 anger and determination. " No, not whatever you choose !" 
 he said, harshly. " Who knows what concessions you may 
 be induced to make? You will write to the Frau Baroness 
 von Erlenbusch that the members of my family are not in 
 the world solely to enjoy themselves, but to do their confounded 
 duty as far as they can, and to fulfil their responsibilities.
 
 THE TRUTH AT LAST. 343 
 
 Those who prefer mere enjoyment must find it elsewhere. 
 There is no place for them among us." 
 
 " But surely, if Magelone," Aunt Thekla began again, 
 " were to come here to ask your forgiveness " 
 
 " She would find the doors closed !" the Freiherr inter- 
 rupted her. " Unless, indeed, the Herr Baron Felix von 
 Erlenbusch should fulfil his wife's expectations and run 
 through his swindler-father's money. If she should then 
 return to us alone, and needy, she shall have food and shelter. 
 So long, however, as she makes merry with that clique, her 
 foot shall never cross my threshold. Not a word, sister !" he 
 added, raising his voice. " Remember Agnes and Johanna ! 
 I cannot at the eleventh hour be false to what has been my 
 principle of action during my life." And after a pause, he 
 said, more gently, " We must submit, Thekla. Solitude w 
 the sad dowry of age. We no longer understand the young, 
 nor do they understand us." 
 
 But the Freiherr did not find it easy to practise the sub- 
 mission which he enjoined upon his sister. Long as he had 
 been deprived of Otto's and Magelone's presence, he felt really 
 separated from them only when he could no longer hope to see 
 them vindicate, according to his ideas, the honour of the family. 
 
 " I am only an old, decayed trunk," he said, on the 
 morning of New Year's day, when Aunt Thekla offered 
 him her New Year's wishes. " Not only has winter robbed 
 me of my garniture of leaves, but my stout young branches 
 have fallen off. All is wellnigh over with Donninghausen !" 
 
 In this same mood he was sitting at breakfast with his 
 sister and nephew on the morning of the 3d of January, 
 when Dr. Werner was announced. 
 
 " What ! our Indian doctor ? Fellow, you must be mis- 
 taken !" he shouted to the servant. But it was Ludwig 
 Werner, who immediately appeared, aud was welcomed with 
 as much delight as amazement.
 
 344 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 " This is what I call a surprise," the Freiherr repeated, 
 when Ludwig was at last seated beside him, and had been 
 supplied by Aunt Thekla with coffee. " And now give an 
 account of yourself. First, whence come you so early in the 
 day?" 
 
 " From Lindenbad. I have been spending the holidays 
 with my people, and I came by the early train, because I 
 must go back to Hanover to-day." 
 
 " No, no !" cried the Freiherr. " Now I have you once 
 more in my clutches, you shall not slip away in such a hurry." 
 
 " Or if you must go to-day," said Johann Leopold, in his 
 considerate way, " promise us at least that you will come 
 back again here from Hanover." 
 
 " Unfortunately, I cannot," Ludwig replied. " There is a 
 scientific expedition fitting out, this time for the West 
 Ghauts. I have been asked to join it, and I must return to 
 London to complete my preparations." 
 
 " What ! are you going to travel again ?" asked Aunt 
 Thekla. " Johann Leopold thought you would accept a pro- 
 fessorship in Germany. We were all so glad." 
 
 " Thank you for your kindness, Fraulein von Donning- 
 hausen. I did think for a while of remaining at home, but I 
 seem to be turning out an irreclaimable vagabond." Ludwig 
 spoke in a quiet, cheerful tone, but neither Aunt Thekla 
 nor Joha'nn Leopold could avoid an impression that he was 
 exercising a certain self-control, and they scrutinized him 
 keenly. 
 
 The Freiherr frowned : " I should be sorry for that ! You 
 are made of better stuff than goes to make up these new- 
 fangled tramps. Stay here, young man ! You'll find enough 
 to do in Germany." 
 
 "Hereafter perhaps in a year I shall be at home again," 
 Ludwig replied ; and then his face grew dark, as, looking from 
 one to another, he said, " I have something else to arrange
 
 THE TRUTH AT LAST. 345 
 
 before my departure, and it is for that I am come hither. I 
 have seen Johanna " 
 
 The Freiherr interrupted him. " We never speak of her," 
 he said, sternly. 
 
 " Pardon me, Herr von Db'nninghausen ! As Johanna's 
 brother, I have a right to demand, and to give, an expla- 
 nation," Ludwig made reply, with quiet determination. 
 " You appear to believe that Johanna belongs to the Batti 
 circus." 
 
 " We know she does," Johann Leopold replied. " The 
 newspapers gave a detailed account of her joining it." 
 
 " And upon such testimony you dropped Johanna, unques- 
 tioned and unheard?" Ludwig interposed, bitterly. 
 
 " Do you suppose we could have had any effect upon her 
 obstinacy ?" cried the Freiherr. " 'Tis in the blood, my 
 young friend ! An inherited predilection, for which, perhaps, 
 she should not be blamed, but which separates her forever 
 from us. She voluntarily left her home, her family, and her 
 betrothed that she might exchange them for what the papers 
 call the irresponsibility of an artistic career. She herself 
 told me that she hoped to render herself independent by her 
 talent. So, you see !" 
 
 " All a mistake and misunderstanding," Ludwig replied. 
 " Even before her step-mother's death she had left Batti, and 
 since then she has supported herself and her little sister by 
 writing. Here is her first book." 
 
 The Freiherr stared at him. " Johanna not in the 
 circus!" he said, mechanically holding out his hand for the 
 book. 
 
 " And as for her desire for an irresponsible artistic career," 
 Ludwig continued, " I can only tell you that she has repelled 
 all the advances, which are the inevitable result of her talent, 
 because all that she wished for was peace and repose. This I 
 know from her sole friend and adviser, a certain Dr. Wolf.
 
 346 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 Moreover, her only associates are the family of a humble 
 teacher where she has lodgings, and where her life is one of 
 secluded and untiring industry." 
 
 The Freiherr started up. " Why were we not told this ?" 
 he cried. "It was unjust, unkind of Johanna. Why did 
 she not stay with us, if stronger inducements did not lead her 
 elsewhere?" 
 
 " That I do not know," Ludwig replied. " I only know 
 that out of a false regard for you the reason why Johanna 
 broke off her engagement has been concealed from you. This 
 she hinted to me by word of mouth, and she now tells me so 
 plainly by letter, and refuses me any further explanation, de- 
 claring that not to spare her former betrothed, but to save 
 you, Herr von Donninghausen, from pain, the matter must 
 never be explained. And Fraulein Thekla, who knows every- 
 thing, desired that you should never be told the real cause of 
 the break between the betrothed pair " 
 
 "What!" shouted the Freiherr, rising from his chair. 
 " Am I a foolish child, that others decide what may be told 
 me and what not? I must know everything this moment. 
 Out with it, Thekla !" 
 
 The old lady, who had risen from table with the rest, 
 trembled so violently that she was obliged to sit down again. 
 
 " Do not be angry, my dear brother," she began, timidly. 
 
 The Freiherr advanced towards her: "Without more ado, 
 Bister, what was the difficulty between Otto and Johanna? 
 Answer me briefly, and to the point 1" 
 
 " Johanna learned " Aunt Thekla began hesitatingly, 
 
 " Johanna learned that Otto loved Magelone, and that she 
 loved him. The note you took from Leo was written to 
 Magelone " 
 
 " That is not true !" thundered the Freiherr. " No Don- 
 ninghausen could lie so ! And Magelone, Johann Leopold's 
 betrothed "
 
 THE TRUTH AT LAST. 347 
 
 " Had tender rendezvous with Otto for weeks," Johann 
 Leopold interposed, while, as if to support his aunt, he ad- 
 vanced and laid his hand upon the back of her chair. 
 
 " Nonsense ! Scandal ! Who told you such stuff?" cried 
 the Freiherr. 
 
 Johann Leopold bit his lip. He could not bring himself 
 to mention Red Jakob, but Aunt Thekla forced herself to 
 reply. " Otto confessed everything to me," she whispered. 
 
 For a moment the Freiherr seemed stunned. Then he 
 laughed bitterly, and walked to the window. After a long 
 and painful pause, Johann Leopold said, " We wished to spare 
 you." 
 
 The Freiherr turned upon him. " Spare me !" and his 
 eyes flashed. " Has it averted disgrace from us ? Have I 
 not still had to lose them both ? Can you suppose that such 
 worthlessness could be cast aside and leave no trace ? Spare 
 me I" he repeated, controlling himself by an effort. " And to 
 do this you could quietly look on and see me thrust the child 
 Johanna out into the world, after all that she had been made 
 to suffer by one of us ! Am I to thank you for this ? You, 
 my own flesh and blood 1 For shame ! You do not belong 
 to me. The doctor is the only one who understands me 1" 
 
 Aunt Thekla shed tears. Johann Leopold stood with 
 downcast eyes. " It was by Johanna's own desire," he said, 
 after a pause. 
 
 " Johanna !" exclaimed the Freiherr, and a gleam as of 
 sunshine irradiated his stern face. " I have no fault to find 
 with her. In her affectionate folly she has undertaken the 
 hardest task herself. She could not feign and lie ; she pre- 
 ferred to renounce and to labour. Foolish she has been, and 
 stubborn, but her heart is of gold, a true, genuine Db'nning- 
 hausen !" 
 
 After these words he paced the room to and fro once or 
 twice, and then, pausing before Ludwig, asked, " Doctor,
 
 348 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 when does your train start for Hanover ? I shall go with 
 you, and bring the child home." 
 
 Aunt Thekla raised her hand in entreaty : " Dear Johann, 
 travel at this season ! You cannot be in earnest !" 
 And Johann Leopold begged, " Pray let ine go, sir !" 
 But the Freiherr shook his head : " No, my lad ! I owe 
 it to her and to myself. We will go together, my dear doc- 
 tor, and I will bring my brave, stout-hearted child home !" 
 
 It was a sunny winter's afternoon ; Terrace-Cottage lay 
 buried in dreamy repose ; the children were at school, the 
 Schwarzwald clock on the landing ticked monotonously, and 
 the sparrows, searching for their daily crumbs upon the ter- 
 race, twittered continuously. 
 
 Johanna was sitting at her writing-table. She had at last 
 come home to work, as she called it. Her pen flew over the 
 paper, and when, now and then, she raised her eyes, they 
 sparkled with a happy light. 
 
 Suddenly she started. The bell on the landing rang, and 
 manly footsteps advanced across it. 
 
 " Ludwig," she thought, rising hastily. But some one else 
 entered ! For a moment Johanna stood as if chained to the 
 spot; then the spell was broken. " Grandfather!" she cried, 
 rapturously, and was clasped in his arms. 
 
 But the Freiherr could give no time to the display of eniu- 
 tion. " Let me look at you !" he said, holding his grand- 
 daughter at arms'-length and scrutinizing her keenly. "Just 
 the same. What does the doctor mean by going on about 
 weary eyes and pale cheeks ? But where has the man hidden 
 himself?" 
 
 He strode to the door and looked out. " Where the 
 devil are you, doctor ?" he shouted to Ludwig, who had re- 
 tired to the glass door looking out upon the terrace. And when 
 Johanna held out both hands to him as he approached her,
 
 THE TRUTH AT LAST. 349 
 
 the Freiherr added, " You have him to thank, child. It is ha 
 who has brought me here, and explained all your folly and 
 the rest of it. Now don't cry. We've had enough of tears 
 and long faces." 
 
 ' Mine are tears of joy," said Johanna. " But sit down 
 and tell me. It seems like a dream ! you here, grandpapa." 
 And again her eyes filled with tears. 
 
 The old Freiherr, too, in spite of himself, was too much 
 moved to speak for a few moments. Whilst Ludwig, with a 
 sensation of bitterness, for which he took himself to task, 
 went to the window and looked out into the gathering dark- 
 ness, the old Herr placed a chair in the middle of the room, 
 seated himself in it, planted both hands upon his knees, and 
 looked about him. "And this is the little cage where you have 
 been hiding all this time 1" he said, at last, and his tone 
 was rather melancholy than bantering. Johanna hastened 
 to change his mood. " Do you not like it, grandpapa ?" she 
 asked, smiling. " Look out of the window ; that pretty little 
 terrace belongs to it." 
 
 The Freiherr shook his head. " It is all too small and con- 
 fined for you," he growled. " Well, it's over now. To-mor- 
 row morning early, I promised Thekla that I would stay 
 here overnight, but to-morrow morning early we're going 
 back to Donninghauscn. One thing I must, however, insist 
 upon : there must never be any more concealments between 
 us. You can and must tell me everything. Promise me 
 this." He held out his hand to Johanna, and his eyea 
 shone as she laid hers in it. 
 
 " Yes, grandpapa," she replied. " I will, and I will begin 
 now. To go to Donninghausen is, as you know, the dearest 
 wish of my heart ; but I cannot do it unless I may carry 
 back with me two things, my little sister and my work " 
 
 The Freiherr held his grand-daughter's little, cold, trem- 
 bling hand in a tight clasp. His eyes gleamed beneath theii 
 
 80
 
 350 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 bushy eyebrows, as though he would read her very soul , but 
 she returned his steadfast gaze, and gradually his look grew 
 gentler. 
 
 " Your sister," he began, when suddenly the door was flung 
 open, and Lisbeth rushed in. " Oh, Hanna dear 1" she cried. 
 Then, seeing two strangers in the twilight, she stopped short, 
 
 "And is this she?" asked the Freiherr. "Come here, 
 little one ; give me your hand." 
 
 " Come," said Johanna. " This is my dear grandfather 
 of whom I have so often told you." 
 
 Lisbeth obeyed. Her fair curls had escaped from beneath 
 her felt hat, and were hanging about her happy, rosy face, 
 whence large, dark, serious eyes gazed steadily at the Frei- 
 herr. 
 
 One look sufficed. The beautiful child took the old man's 
 heart by storm. Beauty had always been an inheritance of 
 his race. 
 
 " Well, you fine little specimen," he cried, drawing her to- 
 wards him, " will you come with your sister and live wiih 
 me ? You must be a good girl and learn to love me and call 
 me grandfather, as she does ?" 
 
 Johanna, kneeling at his feet, covered the dear withered 
 hand with tears and kisses. 
 
 " Child, child, are you mad I Get up, get up 1" cried the 
 Freiherr. And, as he raised her, Ludwig approached. 
 
 " Now everything is so happily arranged," he said, with 
 hardly-won composure, " that I can leave you without anxiety. 
 Good-by I" 
 
 " What do you mean ?" asked Johanna, more struck by his 
 voice and manner than by his words. " Where are you 
 going in such a hurry?" 
 
 " To London for the present," he replied, " and then to 
 India again " 
 
 " No 1" Johanna interrupted him ; and her look was lika
 
 THE TRUTH AT LAST. 351 
 
 sunshine in his soul. " You will stay with us ; I cannot spare 
 you." 
 
 She had taken his hand. He drew her towards him. " Jo- 
 hanna," he whispered, " if I stay I must hope !" 
 
 " We will both do that," she answered, with a beaming 
 mile ; and, turning to the Freiherr, she added, " Grandpapa, 
 Ludwig is going to Donninghausen with us."
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 TWO YEARS AFTERWARD. 
 
 NEARLY two years had passed ; it was the 2d of No- 
 vember, and all Donninghausen was astir. The Freiherr's 
 eightieth birthday was to be celebrated, and as the sun shone 
 bright and warm in cloudless skies, it seemed as if mountain 
 and valley, the spnrkling brook, and the forest in its autumnal 
 splendour, were taking part in the family festival. Even the 
 old castle itself was in a gala dress ; the coat of arms over the 
 entrance was wreathed with evergreens, as was the marble bal- 
 ustrade of the terrace and the arch of the entrance hall, while 
 from the bell-tower the flag, with its silver tower upon an 
 azure field, fluttered in the morning wind. 
 
 The first festivities were over. In the early morning the 
 school-children had sung a hymn upon the terrace beneath 
 the Freiherr's windows ; then he had received the gifts and 
 congratulations of his family. He had rejoiced in the numer- 
 ous circle gathered around the breakfast-table, and, above all, 
 in his blooming train of great-grandsons. Waldemar's chil- 
 dren had been living at Donninghausen for a year now, and 
 all the little Wildenhayns, with their parents, were present 
 upon this occasion. And after breakfast, in accordance with 
 ancient custom, the inspector, the butler, the men- and maid- 
 servants, the shepherd and herdsmen, the woodmen and day- 
 labourers, the bailiff, the miller, the forester, the pastor, and the 
 doctor came to offer their congratulations. Even the inmates 
 of the poor-house came to wish their benefactor a long life. 
 
 At last they had all departed, and, somewhat relieved, the 
 352
 
 TWO YEARS AFTERWARD. 353 
 
 Freihcrr, accompanied by Leo, betook himself to the drawing- 
 room ; but, instead of the family group he had expected to 
 Bee, he found only his sister, who was confined by gout to her 
 wheeled-chair by the fireplace, in which, in spite of the sun- 
 shine, a bright fire was blazing. 
 
 " All alone, Thekla ?" he asked, glancing with dissatisfac- 
 tion at the handkerchief with which she had hastily dried her 
 eyes up n his entrance. " Where are all the others ?" 
 
 " I sent them away. I wanted to be alone," said the old 
 lady. " Dear Johann, you cannot imagine how hard it has 
 been for me to be absent for the first time when your people 
 came with their birthday congratulations." And she burst 
 into tears again. 
 
 " Come, come, Thekla ! Next year, God willing, you will be 
 present," her brother said, taking a seat beside her. 
 
 " Next year I" she repeated, with a melancholy smile. Then 
 changing the subject, she added, " I had the post-bag brought 
 to me. All those are for you." 
 
 The Freiherr hastily looked over the addresses of the let- 
 ters which she handed to him. " Johanna addressed her 
 letter to you, then, eh ?" he asked, laying them aside. 
 
 " No, nothing came from her," Thekla replied. " But 
 don't be afraid ; her letter is probably delayed. Young peo- 
 ple upon their wedding-tour " 
 
 " Nonsense !" interposed the Freiherr. " When the wed- 
 ding-tour has lasted longer than three months the bliss is a little 
 frayed ; and if not, Johanna is not one to neglect the old for 
 the new. No, no ; something is the matter. The child is ill." 
 
 " Dear Johann," Thekla began. But her brother did not 
 allow her to proceed. 
 
 " I knew it would be so," he went on, " and I told the 
 doctor so when he devised his confounded plan of travel. A 
 woman belongs at home. She is a superfluity in railways and 
 
 hotels, and she feels uncomfortable " 
 
 SO*
 
 354 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 " Johanna's letters have shown the contrary," said Thekla. 
 " Moreover, they agreed beforehand to spend the time before 
 Werner entered upon his duties in the University in travel." 
 
 " Of course !" cried the Freiherr. " The child is always 
 agreed to what those whom she loves propose. All the more 
 careful of her the doctor ought to have been. A man's first 
 duty after taking a wife is to provide her with a home, and 
 since it pleased monsieur not to have one until this fall, it 
 was his confounded duty to postpone the marriage until 
 then." 
 
 " Dear brother, do not be ungrateful," Thekla begged, in 
 her gentle way. " Werner waited more than a year to please 
 you, and lived alone in the greatest discomfort in that little 
 university town that Johanna might not be taken from you. 
 You cannot blame him for wanting to have her with him after 
 serving for her half a lifetime. And surely it was natural 
 that he should wish to present his friends to her at the medi- 
 cal convention, and show her England and Scotland " 
 
 " That's enough," the Freiherr interrupted her. " I know 
 that with you whatever Werner does is right. But I tell you 
 that your paragon, in spite of his excellent qualities, his schol- 
 arship, his cleverness, and so forth, is as crass an egotist as ever 
 wore pantaloons. What with travelling here and there, as he 
 has done, he has lost his love for a house and home, and now 
 he's trying to make Johanna as great a vagabond as himself. 
 Fortunately, she's made of too noble stuff for that. Don't 
 you remember she wrote in her last letter from London that, 
 in spite of all that she had seen that was interesting and beau- 
 tiful, she was looking forward with unutterable delight to a 
 quiet home in Vienna? I was sure she would have been 
 there by this time, and expected to receive my birthday letter 
 from her there." 
 
 There was a pause. Aunt Thekla took from her pocket a 
 letter which she had thrust there upon her brother's entrance;
 
 TWO FEARS AFTERWARD. 355 
 
 and, summoning courage, she said, timidly, " Dear Johann, I 
 have received a letter from Vienna. Magelone " 
 
 The Freiherr extended his hand forbiddingly. " Not another 
 word !" he cried. " You know I will not hear that name, and 
 one other beside it. Do not spoil the day for me. I am 
 anxious enough about Johanna." 
 
 He frowned and cast down his eyes. Thekla sighed. Nei 
 ther had heard a carriage drive into the court-yard ; nor did 
 they notice the restlessness of Leo, who pricked his ears, and 
 ran to and fro between the window and the door. But now 
 steps and voices were audible in the corridor. The door was 
 hastily opened. The dog rushed out, barking loudly, and Lis- 
 beth rushed in. " Grandpapa 1 Aunt !" the child called out. 
 " Here they are ! here they are !" The next moment Johanna's 
 arms were around her grandfather's neck ; Aunt Thekla, for- 
 getful of her gout, was stretching out both hands to Ludwig, 
 who entered the room with Johann Leopold; and Lisbeth 
 was calling out, in the midst of salutations and congratula- 
 tions, that she and Uncle Johann Leopold had been certain 
 all along that the travellers would come to grandpapa's birth- 
 day, but that they had thought best to say nothing about it. 
 
 " No ; the surprise is a perfect success," said the Freiherr. 
 " But now sit down, children, and give an account of your- 
 selves. It really looked as if you did not want to come back." 
 
 "And yet we have so longed to be here," Johanna replied, 
 as she took a seat beside her grandfather, drew her little sister 
 towards her, and patted and caressed Leo, who pressed up to 
 her side. " If we could have followed our inclinations, you 
 would have had us here weeks ago. But patients, and col- 
 leagues, and all sorts of learned people were not to be set aside. 
 That is the night side of fame. But I must not say that," she 
 interrupted herself. " Look how my tyrant frowns." 
 
 " He does not mean to be cross," Aunt Thekla said, con- 
 eolingly. Ludwig and Johanna laughed, and Johanu Leo
 
 356 A NOKLE NAME. 
 
 pold asked his aunt if Johanna gave her the impression of an 
 ill-used wife. " Indeed, you both look well," he went on. 
 " There is real summer sunshine in your eyes." 
 
 " The light of happiness 1" said Ludwig. And his plain face 
 grew almost handsome in the expression of intense satisfac- 
 tion with which he looked down at his young wife, who, 
 nestling into her arm-chair, and looking around upon them 
 all, said, half in emotion, half in glee, " You cannot tell 
 how happy I am to be with you again in dear old Donning- 
 hausen, by this dear old fireplace. I should like never to 
 Btir. But must I dress ? Have you guests ?" 
 
 " Not until dinner," the Freiherr made answer. " Stay 
 here now. I want to ask and to hear all sorts of things be- 
 fore the others come. The Wildenhayns are here, with all 
 their train. So tell me, child, all about yourself since the 
 last letters we had from you." 
 
 While Johanna was giving the desired account, Ludwig 
 drew Johann Leopold aside. " Have you heard anything of 
 Otto?" he asked. 
 
 Johann Leopold changed colour. " You have heard of his 
 death already ?" he asked, in his turn. 
 
 " Dead, then 1" said Ludwig. " I only saw in the paper 
 that he had been dangerously wounded in a duel." 
 
 " He died of the wound," Johann Leopold replied. " I 
 had the news of his death yesterday, but I have not yet in- 
 formed my grandfather of it. I did not wish to spoil his 
 birthday. Does Johanna know ?" 
 
 " Not yet. I wanted some certainty in the matter first," 
 Ludwig made answer. And after a pause, he added, " I do not 
 grudge her the reconciliation which death is wont to bring." 
 
 They were standing in a window-recess, looking down into 
 the court-yard. A nurse was coming from the garden with 
 Waldemar's children. Johann Leopold followed them with 
 his eyes until they disappeared within the house, and then
 
 TWO YEARS AFTERWARD. 357 
 
 said, " How small an affair one human life is in the great 
 sum of things ! Races pass away, and not only does tradition 
 live forever, as the poet sings, but life remains the same. The 
 new generation thrives merrily, with no care for the leaf too 
 early torn from the tree. It would once have been impossible 
 for me to imagine Db'nninghausen without Otto or Magelone." 
 
 " Since you have mentioned that name, I will tell you that 
 I have lately seen its possessor," said Ludwig. " Under the 
 pretence of consulting me as a physician she sent for me one 
 day. She had been to Scotland with her husband. Her 
 real reason for wanting to see me was to beg me to help her 
 to bring about a reconciliation with the Freiherr. What do 
 you think ? Can he be persuaded to relent ?" 
 
 Johann Leopold shrugged his shoulders : " Hitherto there 
 has been but little, or rather no, prospect of it. It may be 
 that Otto's death, which he must learn to morrow, may make 
 him more placable. Try your luck. But what is the matter 
 with Magelone ? She used to be the healthiest, most bloom- 
 ing creature in the world." 
 
 " Now she is nervous, as all women are who lead a merely 
 fashionable existence," said Ludwig. " I hear that she is 
 one of the most elegant and popular women in Vienna ; but 
 she declares that she is bored to death, and that nothing can 
 make her happy save a reconciliation with her family " 
 
 " Do not credit that, my dear doctor !" exclaimed Johann 
 Leopold. " Magelone was never happy here. Our life is too 
 simple, too serious for her. I cannot understand why she 
 wants to come back." 
 
 " She simply and solely wants some kind of reality. We 
 are not created to lead only the life of butterflies. If we delay 
 in furnishing ourselves with some worthy interest, we shall be 
 driven to seek it by our innate, and often unconscious, desire 
 for it. With Magelone there is also the wayward humour of 
 the child, who always wants most the plaything it cannot
 
 358 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 have. The Freiherr, she told me with a burst of tears, bad 
 declared tbat he never would receive her again unless she 
 came alone and a beggar. And she appeared to consider the 
 well-invested millions which her father-in-law has left as a 
 terrible misfortune. And it was just so with her husband's 
 devotion, without which, nevertheless, she assured me in pit- 
 eous tones, she could not live ; but then just as little could 
 she forego Donninghnusen any longer. Finally, with another 
 burst of tears, she declared that her childlessness was a pun- 
 ishment from heaven for marrying without the consent of her 
 family. She appears to have entirely forgotten her far graver 
 transgressions in another direction." 
 
 Johann Leopold smiled bitterly. " That is like her I" he 
 said. " Moreover, in this matter the question is not of Tier 
 sensations. How about Johanna? Could she agree to meet 
 Magelone here ?" 
 
 " I took her approval as a matter of course," said Ludwig. 
 " In fact, I asked her to help me in the work of reconcilia- 
 tion. Magnanimous as she is " 
 
 An appeal from the Freiherr interrupted him. " Come and 
 help me, doctor." And when Ludwig approached, he went 
 on : "I hope you will be more reasonable than Johanna, who 
 seriously proposes to carry Lisbeth off. It is out of the ques- 
 tion. The little thing has grown into our very hearts, the 
 Herr Pastor is an excellent instructor for her, and in every 
 way she is better off here than in the city with such vaga- 
 bonds as you. Pronounce the word of command, my dear 
 Werner, as a physician and a husband." 
 
 Ludwig shook his head, with a smile. " The affair must be 
 settled by friendly agreement. Johanna is not used to words 
 of command. As for the vagabondage, however, all that is 
 at an end. Lectures, patients, the completion of what Jo- 
 hanna calls "my fever-book, her own work, compel us to be 
 domestic."
 
 TWO YEARS AFTERWARD. 359 
 
 *' And we are glad to be so," said Johanna. " You call us 
 vagabonds, dear grandfather. Did you never hear the proverb, 
 ' A vagabond has the truest love for home' ?" 
 
 The Freiherr shook his head dubiously. " We shall see !" 
 he said. " When the University holidays come you'll pack 
 up and go off." 
 
 " Certainly we shall !" Ludwig interposed. " We shall 
 come to Donninghausen, if you'll have us." 
 
 " Now that is a promise !" cried the Freiherr, holding out 
 his hands to Ludwig and Johanna, who clasped them cordi- 
 ally. " The bell for the second breakfast," he added, rising, 
 and offering his arm to Johanna. " How astonished Walde- 
 mar and his wife and the Wildenhayns will be I" 
 
 Ludwig had taken Johann Leopold's place behind Aunt 
 Thekla's wheeled-chair. 
 
 " To-day I shall push you into the dining-hall," he said. 
 " But when I come again you will take my arm and walk 
 there with me." 
 
 "You ought to stay here and cure Aunt Thekla," said 
 Lisbeth. " Then Johanna would stay, and all would be 
 well." 
 
 " There, you hear 1" said the Freiherr to Johanna. " The 
 child feels at home here, and belongs to us as you do. Let 
 me have her, since I must give you up. It will not be for 
 long. Remember, I am eighty years old " 
 
 " Deal grandfather, I should like to leave her with you for 
 a long, long time 1" exclaimed Johanna. 
 
 The Freiherr stood still. " That means you will leave her 
 with me," he said. " I knew you would. You can't find it 
 in your heart to refuse my request. " I'll do something for 
 you, too, some day." 
 
 Johanna looked up at him with a quick, inquiring glance, 
 opened her lips as if to speak, but then cast down her eyes 
 and was silent.
 
 360 A NOBLE NAME. 
 
 " Well, what are you thinking of?" the Freiherr asked. 
 " Out with it !" 
 
 Johanna drew a long breath. " I should like to beg some- 
 thing of you, dear grandfather," she replied. " Forgive pool 
 Magelone. Let her come to Donninghausen. She's fairly ill 
 with longing for you all." 
 
 The Freiherr'a forehead flushed crimson. " This from 
 you !" he growled. " Do you know what you are asking ? 
 Have you thought of how you would feel if you were obliged 
 to meet her here ?" 
 
 The eyes which Johanna raised to him were brighter than 
 the Freiherr had ever before seen them. " Yes ; I am too 
 happy myself, my dear grandfather, to bear Magelone any 
 ill will. If you could but forgive " 
 
 His look grew gentler. " I'll see about it," he replied, 
 looking full into the eyes that were gazing beseechingly into 
 his own. " But is it true, child, are you happy, really 
 happy ? Admirable as Ludwig is, much as I value him, I 
 have had my anxieties about you. He seemed to me too 
 harsh, too rough for you " 
 
 " He is so no longer," said Johanna. " The more clearly 
 he sees how much he is to me, the more does he become to 
 me. So much that now I cannot understand how I ever 
 could have parted from him. For in my earliest youth I 
 loved him, as he loved me, and what beguiled me afterwards 
 was but a phantom of my imagination. You see I cannot be 
 angry with Magelone. Do not you be so either I Promise 
 me " 
 
 " I'll see about It ! Come, now, they're waiting for us," 
 the Freiherr interrupted her ; adding, with a mixture of anger, 
 pride, and satisfaction, " Hildegard and Hedwig call you 
 half-blood. Nevertheless, you are the best Donninghausen 
 that ever lived." 
 
 THE END.
 
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 The Sign of the Cross 
 
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 I2mo. Cloth, extra, $1.50. 
 
 " You seem to me to have rendered a great service to the best and holiest of 
 all causes, The Cause of Faith." RT. HON. W. E. GLADSTONE. 
 
 " Mr. Barrett has succeeded admirably in placing a strong and intense story 
 before the reading public." Cincinnati Commercial Tribune. 
 
 " Mr. Barrett has treated his subject with reverence and dignity. The brutal, 
 licentious Nero and his ribald drunken satellites make an admirable foil to the 
 spiritual Mercia and the other followers of Christ ; and throughout the book the 
 nobility, the simple faith, and the steadfastness of these last are dominating notes. 
 No more impressive lesson of the power of the doctrines of Christianity has been 
 given in fiction than the conversion of Marcus, Nero's Prefect, through the ex- 
 ample and fearlessness of the girl Mercia." Philadelphia Evening Bulletin. 
 
 " ' The Sign of the Cross' is an historical story of the first Christian century 
 which in a forcible way portrays the conflict between the religion of the Csesars 
 and that of Christ. It is crowded with picturesque personages, some of them 
 historical, and it is provided with moving scenes and dramatic situations. The 
 triumph of the Cross is set forth in a manner to make vivid the odds it overcame 
 and the force of its influence. Mr. Barrett, in making fiction out of drama, shows 
 himself to possess a decided literary ability (not necessarily to be found in the 
 writer of a good acting play), and he tells the story with keen instinct for its 
 dramatic value. The result is a readable and impressive novel whose action is 
 swift and whose interest is sustained throughout. The book is a justification 
 of the experiment of turning stage literature into closet reading." Hartford 
 Courant. 
 
 J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY, PHILADELPHIA.
 
 By "The Duchess: 
 
 The Coming of Chloe. 
 
 I2mo. Cloth, $1.25. 
 
 Lovice. 
 
 i2mo. Cloth, $1. 25. 
 
 The Three Graces. 
 
 With six full-page illustrations. i2mo. Cloth, $1.25. 
 
 Peter's Wife. 
 
 Lady Patty. 
 
 A Lonely Maid. 
 
 A Little Irish Girl. 
 
 The Hoyden. 
 
 An Unsatisfactory Lover. 
 
 12010. Paper, 50 cents ; cloth, Ji .00. 
 
 Phyllis. 
 
 Molly Bawn. 
 
 Airy Fairy Lilian. 
 
 Beauty's Daughters. 
 
 Faith and Unfaith. 
 
 Doris. 
 
 "O Tender Dolores." 
 
 A Maiden All Forlorn. 
 
 In Durance Vile. 
 
 The Duchess. 
 
 Marvel. 
 
 Jerry, and Other Stories. 
 
 Mrs. Geoffrey. 
 
 Portia. 
 
 Loys, Lord Berresford, and 
 
 Other Stories. 
 Rossmoyne. 
 A Mental Struggle. 
 Lady Valworth's Diamonds. 
 Lady Branksmere. 
 A Modern Circe. 
 The Honourable Mrs. Vereker. 
 Under-Currents. 
 A Life's Remorse. 
 
 A Point of Conscience. 
 
 121110. Bound only in cloth, 1.00. 
 
 '"The Duchess' has well deserved the title of being one of the most fasci- 
 ating novelists of the day. The stories written by her are the airiest, lightest, 
 and brightest imaginable ; full of wit, spirit, and gayety, yet containing touches of 
 *he most exquisite pathos. There is something good in all of them." London 
 Academy. 
 
 J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY, PHILADELPHIA.
 
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