Manna rose, and pushed back the bolts of the door.
Sonnenkamp entered.
"I am glad you are well again," said he in a clear voice to the Professor's wife.
He did not dream with what eyes the Professorin and his child regarded him.
"I thank you," he continued, making a gesture which was intended to signify that he desired to be alone with Manna.
Manna perceived it, and she begged—she could not express her agony, but she begged earnestly—that her father would permit the Professorin to be present at the conversation; she had no secrets from the noble woman.
Sonnenkamp shrugged his shoulders.
Was it possible? No, it could not be, his own child could not have betrayed him.
He now said plainly that he would rather speak with Manna alone.
The Professorin rose to go, and Sonnenkamp begged her in a kindly tone to keep his wife company during his absence, and give her all the instruction and advice necessary to enable her to enter upon her new sphere of life with becoming repose and dignity.