"You think there is nothing very angelic about me?" asked Max, in his turn.
"I think that, under any circumstances, it is sinful to cherish an affection of which one's parents disapprove," was the somewhat tart reply.
"You don't understand these things, Fräulein," observed Max, instructively. "People do not think of their parents when they fall in love, and the young couple in this case have right on their side. What is to be done when, from sheer prejudice and all manner of external considerations, the parents and guardians set themselves to sunder two closely wedded hearts?"
"There is but one course for them--to submit and obey," declared Agnes, with a solemnity which gave her for a moment a certain resemblance to her father.
"Those are very antiquated notions," said Max, impatiently. "On the contrary, they must rebel and get married in spite of everything."
Truly, Fräulein Agnes had made very remarkable progress during the last few weeks. She no longer opposed to the doctor's reprehensible speeches a pained and resigned silence. Having really, as he said, developed a very fair spirit of her own, she proceeded to make use of her new acquisition, and replied with some asperity:
"That is, I do not doubt, the advice you have given to your friend."
"Not at all. I have enough to do, on the contrary, to keep him within due bounds. Well, to be brief--Winterfeld is leaving R---- in a day or two, and they go so far as to refuse him a parting interview with his betrothed. He must and will see her once more to bid her farewell. Fräulein Agnes----" the speaker here made a long and most effective pause--"it is an elevating thing to be the guardian angel of a pure, true love. I ought to know. I have played the part long enough."
"What is it you really mean, Doctor?" asked the girl, some faint suspicion dawning within her; and she began to walk very fast as she spoke.
"I will explain to you what I mean," said Max, quickening his pace to suit hers.