"I wanted to say exactly what I said. I, your best friend--for that privilege I am not willing to give up yet--I have the right and the duty to be strict, and to examine before I say: Yes and Amen." "Oh, Miss Sophie, I assure you my Marguerite is an angel." "Your Marguerite? Why, look at the lion-hearted Bemperlein? Has it come to that already? But, jesting apart, Bemperly! what do you know of the angelic character of your Marguerite? I mean of that angelic nature which is perceptible to other mortals also? Come, sit down here by me quietly, before the fire, and tell me the whole thing from the beginning. Here, take your cushion again, but please leave the poker where it is!" In spite of the trifling words, Sophie's voice sounded so faithful and good, and her large blue eyes looked so full of sympathy and kindness, that Bemperlein was not in the least afraid now to let the dear girl look into the holiest of his heart, and to tell her everything, which he did not even dare to think of but with trembling! "You remember, Miss Sophie," he began, "that I told you and Franz recently how I went to the Grenwitz House in order to find out what the baroness, who had sent for me, wanted of me. I told you also that I found Mademoiselle Marguerite in the ante-room, and the remarkable scene which there took place; but I did not tell you, and I have not let anybody see yet, the deep impression which that scene had made on me. A man who has grown up in great poverty, as I have, and who has had to struggle hard with cares and troubles, learns to understand thoroughly what it means to be helpless and forsaken. You will understand, therefore, what I mean, when I say that such a man, when he sees others suffer, feels and thinks very differently from those who have never been in such a position. That was the reason why I could not get rid of the sight of the poor, forsaken girl in tears. I saw her continually before me as she was standing near the door which led to the rooms of the baroness sobbing and pressing her little hands upon her eyes, while the bright tears were slipping through the slender fingers. I heard continually the words: '_Oh, je suis si malheureuse_,' and I worried myself to find out why the poor girl should be so unhappy; for I could have sworn that there must have been another cause than the mere sense of dependence, or the pain of having been once more unjustly scolded.