He came to her aid. "If you think that I can be of any 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. You look as if you could bear the truth," the 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 proposal."
"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 manifest 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."