Whilst Magelone was revealing this melancholy prospect to the new inmate of the castle, the Freiherr had gone to his sister in the morning-room, where, as he paced to and fro after his wonted fashion, with his hands clasped behind him, he said, "I am surprised and delighted to find how well Johanna suits us. Although she has been here so short a time, I seem nearer to her than to Magelone."
"Yes, because she has more soul," said the old lady.
The Freiherr shrugged his shoulders. "My dear Thekla, what is her soul to me? She is clever and—strange as it sounds, and much as the word irritated me, coming from Magelone—she has race. More than any other of my grandchildren is she flesh of my flesh and bone of my bone."
Aunt Thekla nodded assent, and the Freiherr went on:
"It makes me anxious, too. What is to become of the child? She does not belong in our circle. She is too good to be married to one of these new-fangled noblemen, who, in spite of their descent, are quite ready to throw themselves away upon any peasant's or tradesman's daughter provided she has money; and to allow her to fall back into a rank which would separate her from us entirely,—a great pity, a great pity!"
"But must she of necessity be married?" asked Aunt Thekla.
"Of course!" said the Freiherr.
"I have not been——" the old lady began.
Her brother interrupted her. "But you were betrothed to one your equal in rank. Since you vowed fidelity to your lover before his death, I respected your vow, much as it went against the grain with me."
"Dear Johann, will you not likewise respect the desire of Johann Leopold's heart?" asked Aunt Thekla.