John protested, though, at this. "No, mother," he said hastily, "I will attend to that."
He took the ring from her reluctant fingers, and, raising Anna's hand, slipped it into place in open token of betrothal. Then, with an air of manly resolution the young man turned to the father. "And I'll do more," he said. "You and Anna shall not be parted. I'll buy the old estate of Lichtenstahl and you shall be its master, as you ought to be, as long as your life lasts. You'll let us be your guests, perhaps, and there we'll all be happy. Eh?"
"I beg you to consider the happiness of our children," Mrs. Vanderlyn said humbly.
Herr Kreutzer smiled. Conditions, now, were different indeed. No longer was he scorned as a poor flute-player, unworthy to become connected with the house of Vanderlyn by marriage.
"Ah," said he, "you beg of me! Well, that is different. Your happiness, my little Anna ... so ... I will see. Only give me just a little time to think of it alone."
"Of course," said Mrs. Vanderlyn, with a deep sigh of relief. "Come, Anna darling, we must get home in time to dress for the reception. My dear Count, I'll send the motor back for you. You'll surely come?"
"Perhaps I come," said he indifferently. "Possibly."
But he turned to Anna with a beaming face on which love shone, triumphant. "At least, my Anna, it is not goodbye—and that is very good. Nichtwahr?"
"No, father; it could never be goodbye with us. Together always, father—always—always—us—together."
She ran to him and hid her head upon his breast.