"That you may do; it is a sin to be untrue, and a double sin to be so towards you."
"Well then," said Lina, taking off her straw hat, and shaking the curls in her neck, "well then, if you will honestly confess, that Manna made an impression on you at that time, I will tell you something; but you must be frank and sincere."
"My dear young lady, do you think I would say no? You tempt me not to be sincere."
"Well then, I'll tell you—but please keep it to yourself won't you?—Manna asked me who you were, and that's a great deal from her. Oh, Herr Captain, wealth is a dreadful thing; people offer themselves only for the sake of a girl's money—no, I didn't mean to say that—but try to manage that Manna shall not be a nun."
"Can I prevent it?"
"Did you see the wooden shoes that the nuns wore? Horrid! Manna would have to wear those shoes, and she has the prettiest little foot."
"But why shouldn't she be a nun, if she wants to?"
Lina was puzzled, she was not prepared for such an answer. She remembered, too, that she was a good Catholic.
"Ah," she said plaintively, "I fancied to myself—I am a silly child, am I not?—in old times a knight used to enter a castle disguised as a squire or something else—well, I thought now the squire must be a tutor and then—"
She could not go on with her fancy sketch, for her mother overtook them, rather anxious lest her daughter had made some of her dreadfully simple speeches in her walk with the stranger.