"My own dear father!" said Minna; and her arms were around him, and her head was pressed close upon his breast.
"My own good brother, thou couldst not be a thief!" said Aunt Hedwig; and, so saying, clasped her stout arms around them both.
"My good old friend! all now is right again," said Herr Sohnstein; who then affected to put his arms around the three, but really embraced only Aunt Hedwig. However, there was quite enough of Aunt Hedwig to fill even Herr Sohnstein's long arms; and he made the average of his one-third of an embrace all right by bestowing it with a threefold energy.
The position of Hans as he regarded this affectionately writhing group (that was not unsuggestive of the Laöcoon: with a new motive, a fourth figure, a commendable addition of draperies, and a conspicuous lack of serpents) would have been awkward under any circumstances; and as the circumstances were sufficiently awkward to begin with, he was very much embarrassed indeed. To Aunt Hed-wig's credit be it said that she was the first (after Minna, of course; and Minna could not properly act in the premises) to perceive his forsaken condition.
"Come, Hans," said the good Hedwig, her voice shaken by emotion and the tightness of Herr Sohn-stein's grip about her waist.
"Thou hadst better come, Hans," added Herr Sohnstein, jollily.
"Wilt thou come, Hans—and forgive me?" Gottlieb asked.
But it was not until Minna said, very faintly, yet with a heavenly sweetness in her voice: "Thou mayst come, Hans!" that Hans actually came.
