"I should have liked to go farther," said Wolf, his eyes lighting up for a moment. "I should have liked to put your name to it. Perhaps you may decide to do so at its conclusion. So good a name----" "Too good for my poor beginnings," Johanna interposed. "But that is not the only consideration that would prevent me from signing my work. It would annoy my grandfather to see my name in the newspaper which his people read daily. No, I cannot allow it." Dr. Wolf stroked back his hair from his forehead--a sure sign that he was uneasy in mind. "Do they take any other newspapers at Dönninghausen?" he asked. "The 'Augsburg Sentinel' and the 'Circular,'" Johanna replied. And, too much pleased to observe the young man's uneasiness, she went on: "How did you contrive to have my story printed so soon? You told me the other day that there were so many manuscripts on hand. Confess that you have been plotting for me!" Again he stroked back his black hair. "Of course," he said, without looking at her, "I have done what I could. Yesterday morning there was no idea of it. It is, to some extent, a counter-check. Have you seen no other paper yesterday or to-day?" His last words startled her. "Tell me, for heaven's sake! Is any one dead?" she cried, growing pale. "Nothing of the kind," Dr. Wolf hurriedly interrupted her; "it concerns yourself alone. I hope you will not take it too much to heart." And after assuring himself by a glance that Lisbeth had fallen asleep, he went on: "Dr. Stein's 'Feuilleton' contains a notice which states that the daughter of a distinguished actor, who died about two years ago, is shortly to appear in Carlo Batti's famous circus." "'Tis a mistake!" Johanna exclaimed. "Batti tried to persuade me to do so, but I told him it was not to be thought of." "And did you allege regard for your family as one reason for your refusal?" asked the young man. Johanna assented. "They are trying to burn that bridge behind you," Dr. Wolf continued. "Without mentioning names, but with an exact description of places and persons that makes any such mention unnecessary, the notice goes on to say that an enthusiasm for art, and yet more a preference for the unrestricted freedom of an artistic career, have led you to break off your betrothal and forsake your relatives,--'the same noble family,' the article concludes, 'from which, years ago, the daughter eloped with the famous actor, the father of our _débutante_.'" While he was speaking Johanna grew pale and red by turns. "You are right; this is infamous!" she said, when Dr. Wolf had finished. "I cannot understand----" "What they have in view?" he completed her sentence when she paused. "I suspect that they intend by this notice to make the breach between you and your relatives final, and to force you to comply with Batti's schemes. No further consideration for your relatives is possible after this has been printed."