"Certainly we shall!" Ludwig interposed. "We shall come to Dönninghausen, if you'll have us." "Now that is a promise!" cried the Freiherr, holding out his hands to Ludwig and Johanna, who clasped them cordially. "The bell for the second breakfast," he added, rising, and offering his arm to Johanna. "How astonished Waldemar and his wife and the Wildenhayns will be!" Ludwig had taken Johann Leopold's place behind Aunt Thekla's wheeled-chair. "To-day I shall push you into the dining-hall," he said. "But when I come again you will take my arm and walk there with me." "You ought to stay here and cure Aunt Thekla," said Lisbeth. "Then Johanna would stay, and all would be well." "There,--you hear!" said the Freiherr to Johanna. "The child feels at home here, and belongs to us as you do. Let me have her, since I must give you up. It will not be for long. Remember, I am eighty years old----" "Dear grandfather, I should like to leave her with you for a long, long time!" exclaimed Johanna. The Freiherr stood still. "That means you _will_ leave her with me," he said. "I knew you would. You can't find it in your heart to refuse my request. I'll do something for you, too, some day." Johanna looked up at him with a quick, inquiring glance, opened her lips as if to speak, but then cast down her eyes and was silent. "Well, what are you thinking of?" the Freiherr asked. "Out with it!" Johanna drew a long breath. "I should like to beg something of you, dear grandfather," she replied. "Forgive poor Magelone. Let her come to Dönninghausen. She's fairly ill with longing for you all." The Freiherr's forehead flushed crimson. "This from you!" he growled. "Do you know what you are asking? Have you thought of how you would feel if you were obliged to meet her here?" The eyes which Johanna raised to him were brighter than the Freiherr had ever before seen them. "Yes; I am too happy myself, my dear grandfather, to bear Magelone any ill will. If you could but forgive----" His look grew gentler. "I'll see about it," he replied, looking full into the eyes that were gazing beseechingly into his own. "But is it true, child, are you happy,--really happy? Admirable as Ludwig is, much as I value him, I have had my anxieties about you. He seemed to me too harsh, too rough for you----" "He is so no longer," said Johanna. "The more clearly he sees how much he is to me, the more does he become to me. So much that now I cannot understand how I ever could have parted from him. For in my earliest youth I loved him, as he loved me, and what beguiled me afterwards was but a phantom of my imagination. You see I cannot be angry with Magelone. Do not you be so either! Promise me----" "I'll see about it! Come, now, they're waiting for us," the Freiherr interrupted her; adding, with a mixture of anger, pride, and satisfaction, "Hildegard and Hedwig call you half-blood. Nevertheless, you are the best Dönninghausen that ever lived." THE END. POPULAR WORKS AFTER THE GERMAN,