"Yes. How did you get on at the convent?"
"I have taken leave of it forever."
"Thank you, my child, thank you. You do me good, and you know how much I need it now. So now let me arrange every thing on the spot. You look so fresh, so animated! I have never seen you so much so. Herr von Pranken," turning to him, "you see how Manna has freed herself, and I have your promise to give up the matter of which we have been speaking; have I not?"
Pranken made no answer.
"I did not know that you were here, Herr von Pranken," began Manna, "but now, now it is best that it is so."
"Certainly," said Sonnenkamp decidedly. "You can have nothing to say to me which our faithful friend may not hear. Sit down."
He took, according to his wont, a little peg of wood, and began to whittle.
Manna did not sit down: with her hand on the back of a chair, she said,—
"Herr von Pranken, I wish to prove to you my gratitude for your faithful"—.
"That you will, that you can," interrupted her father, looking up from his peg. "It is well. I need joy, I need rest, I need serenity. You are right. A cordial would now be doubly refreshing. Give our friend your hand now."