At that moment Countess Dolores passed by. "Johannes," said she, "I am having a talk with Father Canisius. If you wish you may come, too." Johannes questioned Marjon with a look; but there fell before her eyes that impenetrable veil which always completely hid her inmost self from every stranger. Father Canisius was in the parlor, seated in a low chair. His black soutane fitted tightly over his robust body, and his heavy feet in their buckled shoes were planted wide apart. He was polishing his spectacles with a handkerchief, and as Johannes entered the room he put them quickly in place, and turned his large eyes, full of interest, toward the door. When Johannes came forward he took his hand in a kindly way and drew him nearer. Johannes looked into the broad, smooth-shaven face with its flat nose and sagacious eyes. "Have you never had good guidance, my boy? Without it life is difficult and dangerous." "I have indeed had good guidance, Mijnheer," said Johannes, "but I have more than once preferred to go my own way; and then I disregarded my guidance." "But was it _good_ guidance?" asked the priest. "I had a good father; later, I found a dear, good friend. But I left them both." "Why did you do that? Were you not satisfied with what they taught you? What was it that took you from them?" Johannes hesitated. "Were they too strict?" Johannes shook his head. "Then what was lacking that you found elsewhere but not with them?" "I do not know, Mijnheer, what to call it. It is not pleasure, for I am willing to endure much suffering. And yet again it is the most glorious thing I know. I think it is what is meant by 'the beautiful.'" On saying this, he bethought himself that it was not merely "the beautiful" for which he had left his father, and that the emotion which had led him away from Markus, and which he had felt for the two little girls, might indeed be called love. "Perhaps it is also called love," said he. Father Canisius considered a moment, and throwing a glance at the countess, he said: "Then did you not find the love of that good father and the good friend enough for you?" "Oh, yes, yes," said Johannes, with spirit. "But it was from them I had learned that I ought to follow what seemed to me, in all sincerity, the most beautiful, and to do what I truly thought best." The priest dropped Johannes' hand, and pressed his own fleshy palms together, while he slowly and sorrowfully shook his great head, gave a deep sigh, and continued to look at Countess Dolores with a very serious face. "Poor boy!" said he then. "Poor, poor boy!" Then, lifting his head and looking Johannes straight in the eyes, he said: "No, Johannes, they were not good guides. I do not know them, and I shall not judge them, but I assure you positively that with such teaching, such guidance, you are bound to be lost unless granted extraordinary grace." A long silence ensued. Johannes was touched, and even startled.