His carriage stopped. He got out, and the Worronska beckoned him to her. Contrary to her custom, she was not holding the reins to-day, and was not seated upon the box.
"I am glad you are come. I came myself to see you, Professor Möllner, as I received no answer to my note,--and I was just driving away."
Johannes was confused. He had received the note she had alluded to, but had not opened it.
"Pray lend me your arm. Have you one moment for me?"
"I am at your service," said Johannes gravely, and he helped her out of her carriage.
"Will you grant me a short audience in your house,--or am I unworthy to enter this temple of science?"
Johannes opened the door for her. "My simple dwelling is but poorly adapted for the reception of such distinguished guests. I can scarcely hope that you can be comfortable here, even for a few minutes."
"How pleasant this is!" she cried, as he led the way to his office. "Believe me, I like this much better than my marble halls, where there is no breath of true feeling."
"I should have thought that one like yourself could always collect warm-hearted friends about her," said Johannes absently, only for the sake of saying something.
The countess looked at him for an instant suspiciously. She knew in what repute she was held, and the compliment was perhaps ambiguous. But the cloud upon his brow convinced her that his thoughts were busy elsewhere. She looked in his eyes, but his gaze fell before hers, as we look away from what offends our delicacy. The countess interpreted it otherwise,---his embarrassment flattered her.