"True, I have had occasion to be convinced of the interest that Möllner takes in Fräulein von Hartwich, although it is by no means so dangerous to correct an erring professor as an enraged mob." "What? what is it?" ran from mouth to mouth, and the company drew together in a large group. "Permit me," said Moritz in a loud voice to Herbert, "to be the interpreter of my brother-in-law's conduct, as I certainly understand it better than a stranger. The truth is, the Hartwich was insulted by a Hochstetten mob, and my brother-in-law interfered to prevent her from receiving personal injury." "Ah," said Herbert, as if he were comprehending it all for the first time, "this, then, was the generous motive that took your brother two miles from town to that retired village?" "I myself have never yet presumed to cross-examine my brother-in-law as to his motives,--I leave the bold undertaking to you," replied Moritz, challenging Herbert with his keen glance. "What can have happened there?" "What did the Hartwich do? A whole village certainly does not rise against a private individual without some cause." "This Hartwich must be a dreadful person!" Such were the remarks made by one and another. "Gentlemen, let me pray you to come to supper," said the Staatsräthin, who was evidently embarrassed. But her invitation was unheeded. All the ladies and several gentlemen had, like hungry wolves, had a taste of the interesting subject, and they were not to be tempted by the promise of other food. There was no end to their amazement and conjectures. To be sure, it was impossible to express before Möllner's relatives all that was thought, but they could gain some information by their questions. They could not understand how Professor Möllner could befriend such a person. It was no wonder that public opinion was so opposed to her. "Yes," said Elsa, "Christian love should be shown to every sinner, but this woman puts our sex in such a light that really one blushes at being a woman. I can say, with Gretchen, that humanity is dear to me, but this Hartwich displays such shamelessness, such vulgarity of mind, that it becomes the duty of those possessed of any sensibility to suppress all compassion and to regard her with abhorrence." "Tell me, then, Fräulein Elsa," Hilsborn here interrupted her, "what becomes of your former assertion that the cause of the despised and neglected should always be espoused by the true Christian, as in the case of your field-flowers?" Elsa blushed, and stroked back her curls. "But, my dear friend," remarked the botanist, "the Hartwich is not a field-flower." "Certainly not one that cows can eat, for she is poisonous," said Herbert.