"Fräulein!" cried the Freiherr. "Boy, what do you mean? You should call the daughter of your father's sister 'Johanna.'"
"Most gladly if I may. Will you allow it, dear Johanna?" said Otto, bestowing upon her a cousinly kiss. Blushing, she released herself from him, as he looked into her eyes with a glance of momentary triumph. "To our friendship," he said, gravely, and then the children came rushing up and separated them.
A telegram was handed to the Freiherr; he read it with a lowering brow.
"How unfortunate!" he cried. "Waldemar tells me that important business will not allow of his being with us before New Year's day. This Christmas it vexes me particularly."
"I am delighted," Magelone whispered to Johanna. "It is a respite, at least for me. The betrothal of the future head of the family cannot possibly be announced unless all its august members are present."
Johanna looked at her and shook her head. "That betrothal will never take place," she said; "Otto will not allow it."
"Otto! What do you mean?" asked Magelone. "You have hardly seen us together."
"Long enough to see how he adores you."
"Mere gallantry, child; nothing more," said Magelone. "Remember, pray, he has debts, I have nothing, and we are sensible people."
And she fluttered away to her presents, where the next instant Otto joined her. "May I take you in to dinner?" he asked.