The Freiherr turned upon him. "Spare me!" and his eyes flashed. "Has it averted disgrace from us? Have I not still had to lose them both? Can you suppose that such worthlessness could be cast aside and leave no trace? Spare me!" he repeated, controlling himself by an effort. "And to do this you could quietly look on and see me thrust the child Johanna out into the world, after all that she had been made to suffer by one of us! Am I to thank you for this? You, my own flesh and blood! For shame! You do not belong to me. The doctor is the only one who understands me!" Aunt Thekla shed tears. Johann Leopold stood with downcast eyes. "It was by Johanna's own desire," he said, after a pause. "Johanna!" exclaimed the Freiherr, and a gleam as of sunshine irradiated his stern face. "I have no fault to find with her. In her affectionate folly she has undertaken the hardest task herself. She could not feign and lie; she preferred to renounce and to labour. Foolish she has been, and stubborn, but her heart is of gold,--a true, genuine Dönninghausen!" After these words he paced the room to and fro once or twice, and then, pausing before Ludwig, asked, "Doctor, when does your train start for Hanover? I shall go with you, and bring the child home." Aunt Thekla raised her hand in entreaty: "Dear Johann, travel at this season! You cannot be in earnest!" And Johann Leopold begged, "Pray let me go, sir!" But the Freiherr shook his head: "No, my lad! I owe it to her and to myself. We will go together, my dear doctor, and I will bring my brave, stout-hearted child home!" * * * * * It was a sunny winter's afternoon; Terrace-Cottage lay buried in dreamy repose; the children were at school, the Schwarzwald clock on the landing ticked monotonously, and the sparrows, searching for their daily crumbs upon the terrace, twittered continuously. Johanna was sitting at her writing-table. She had at last come home to work, as she called it. Her pen flew over the paper, and when, now and then, she raised her eyes, they sparkled with a happy light. Suddenly she started. The bell on the landing rang, and manly footsteps advanced across it. "Ludwig," she thought, rising hastily. But some one else entered! For a moment Johanna stood as if chained to the spot; then the spell was broken. "Grandfather!" she cried, rapturously, and was clasped in his arms. But the Freiherr could give no time to the display of emotion. "Let me look at you!" he said, holding his grand-daughter at arms'-length and scrutinizing her keenly. "Just the same. What does the doctor mean by going on about weary eyes and pale cheeks? But where has the man hidden himself?"