The Freiherr's 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! 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 Dönninghausen that ever lived."
THE END.
[1] Anglicé, stone.