"True, Father Leonhardt, true," replied Johannes. "But she has not one sane instant. It drives me to despair!"
"Courage, courage, dear friend," said Leonhardt, "and, remember, you only did your duty. That thought must comfort you."
"I am afraid it will not comfort me long," was Johannes' gloomy reply.
While they were speaking, Heim's carriage drove op. This time he was not alone,--Moritz was with him. Leonhardt retired to the library, where Walter always awaited him, and Helm and Moritz entered the antechamber. Gretchen and Hilsborn were standing whispering together by the window. The former hastily left the room, embarrassed by the entrance of the stranger with Heim.
"Who the deuce is your pretty companion?" asked Moritz in surprise.
"It is my ward, Gleissert's unfortunate daughter," Hilsborn explained with some reserve. "I brought her hither from Hamburg."
"Oh, I know, I know,--heard all about it. Guardian, then, are you? Very delightful position, with such a charming ward," laughed Moritz. "Here's a fellow! looks as if he couldn't say 'boh' to a goose, and brings home such a pretty girl the first journey he takes! Yes, yes,--'still waters!'"
"Do not jest," Hilsborn begged. "It is too serious a matter for jesting."
"Nay, never mind what I say," said Moritz. "I must pay some respect to your new dignity. Hardly out of leading-strings yourself, and appointed guardian to young unprotected females! Ha! ha!"
"Be quiet, Johannes will hear you," grumbled Heim. "Reserve your jests for more congenial society."