For a long while he paced thus. Suddenly he stopped in the middle of the room and stood erect with an effort, then resumed his walk, muttering in the deep, low tones which his people so dreaded, "I have been wrong, and am suffering for it! I ought to have known that between Dönninghausen and the daughter of a player there yawns a gulf which nothing can bridge over. But I am grown old, Thekla; old and weak! I loved the girl more than any other of my children's children. I thought I recognised in her my own thoughts, my own feelings, my own ideas of right and honour. All wrong, Thekla! The illusions of a weak old man, or a farce played by a girl. They say her father was a great man among the players." And again he laughed loud and scornfully. "Johann, dear Johann, you are wrong!" sobbed Aunt Thekla. The Freiherr paused before her. "You are right," he said, more gently. "She did not deceive me intentionally, she was not false; only given over to the curse that cleaves to her blood. It is not her fault; it is and must always be mine for bringing her here, and for all but wasting upon her the name of our race. Thank heaven!" he went on, after a pause, laying his hand heavily upon his sister's shoulder,--"thank heaven, it did not come to that. And I make a vow now to myself and to all of you that from this hour there shall be no more of such weakness. I will not waste another thought upon this unfortunate creature. All the strength and force yet left me shall be devoted to Dönninghausen, and my care shall be for the genuine children of my house who do honour to me and to my name." Thekla pressed her brother's hand to her lips, and wept afresh. "Be quiet!" he said, with rough cordiality. "'Close up the ranks' must be the order to obey in life as on the battle-field. The fewer the survivors, the more they must cling together. I think we Dönninghausens can stand our ground." Thekla made no reply. The thought of Otto and Magelone closed her lips. CHAPTER XXVIII. THE TERRACE-COTTAGE. Batti made no opposition to Johanna's plans further than was demanded by courtesy; in fact, he was glad not to have opposite him at every meal her dark, serious eyes, in which he read now melancholy, and now, as it seemed to him, reproach. And Helena soon contrived to persuade him to consent to leave Lisbeth with her sister when they left Hanover, representing to him that the child would be more likely to overcome the repugnance she now felt to the circus if she were to hear and see nothing of it for a time.