"No, no," he answered almost impatiently. "But she is young and careless—not bad. She has done nothing to deserve such treatment at my hands." Frau von Arnim rose and came to his side. "I know that she is not bad," she said. "At the bottom of her heart Nora may be honest, but she is headstrong and foolish, and folly can lead to the same catastrophes as deliberate wickedness. Unless you hold her back with a strong hand, Wolff, she will alienate you from all your friends, she will bring an unpleasant scandal upon our name and perhaps ruin your career. These last two things are more precious to me than anything on earth, and that is why I have spoken to you and put the matter in its most serious light. You must show her how wrong she is." Wolff turned and looked his companion steadily in the eyes. He had just returned from a hard afternoon’s work, and it was perhaps the recent fatigue which had drawn the colour from his face and left him with deep lines about the mouth and across the white forehead. "Is she wrong?" he said. "Do you know, I am not sure, Aunt Magda. I am beginning to think the mistake is all mine. I loved her so, and she is so impetuous and warm-hearted. I carried her off her feet before she had time to think, to realise what she was giving up. And now—well, I suppose she is beginning to realise; the glamour has all gone, and her love"—he steadied his voice with an effort—"hasn’t proved to be what she thought it was. It isn’t strong enough to bring the sacrifices, and she is hungry for her own country and her own people. One can’t blame her." Frau von Arnim sighed. "And when the war comes—what then?" she asked. "God knows!" He dropped wearily into a chair and covered his face with his hands. "We can but hope for the best," he said. "I must wait and be patient." "You will say nothing to her, Wolff?" "No. I do not understand what you have told me. I cannot believe that she should have deceived me and kept the secret so long, nor can I understand Captain Arnold’s conduct. Nevertheless, I trust Nora, and one day perhaps she will tell me everything." His aunt shook her head. That "one day" seemed too far off, too impossible, and in the meantime she saw the man with the bowed head, and understood something of what he was suffering. "Do what you think best," she said, and, obeying a sudden impulse of tenderness, she laid her hand upon his shoulder. "Only let no harm come to the name, Wolff. It is all I ask, for your sake and for mine." He took the hand and lifted it to his lips. "You have the right to ask everything," he said. "Your sacrifice—yours and Hildegarde’s—made it possible for me to make Nora my wife. I owe you——" "Not your happiness, _armer Kerl_!" she interrupted sadly. "That was what we wanted to give you, but we have not succeeded. And you must not call it a sacrifice. We never do. You are just my only son, for whom it is a joy to smooth the way as much as it lies in our power."