n't believe that lover of Toni's is quite right here," she said, as
she tapped her forehead with her finger. "First, he carried my satchel
and was as dumb as a fish; then he thawed out a little when I sang, and
now he is off on a run to Fuerstenstein and his mother, before I have a
chance even to send Toni a message"

The doctor smiled, but it was a pained smile. He had observed this
stranger more closely than Marietta, and knew only too well what caused
the sudden and great anxiety to get away from the house.

"Evidently the young man is not much accustomed to ladies' society," he
answered evasively; "he's under his mother's thumb apparently, but he
seems to please his sweetheart, and that's the main thing."

"He's a handsome man," mused Marietta, "a very handsome man. But,
grandpapa, I believe he's also a very stupid one."

Willibald in the meantime had gone, almost on a run, to the nearest
street corner, and there he halted and tried to overcome his
bewilderment and collect his thoughts. It was some time before he
started slowly on his homeward way, and while standing dazed and stupid
in the little country road, he threw more than one glance back at the
doctor's house.

What would his mother say? She, who all her life had spurned the
play-actor as she would a reptile. And she was right, Will saw that
clearly; there was a sorcery about such people against which one needed
protection.

But if this Marietta Volkmar should see fit to go to Fuerstenstein to
visit her girlhood's friend! The young heir was horrified at the
thought, and assured himself that he was horrified, but there was a new
light in his eyes all the while. He saw suddenly, in his mind's eye, the
reception room at Fuerstenstein, and the piano at which his betrothed had
sat so long that day, but in her place was a dainty little figure, with
a perfect glory of curly brown hair around her head; and the heavy notes
of the "Janizary March" changed into the soft, pleading tones of the
old-time ballad, and in the midst of it all, broke out the clear,
bubbling laugh which sounded like music, too.

And all this sweetness was lost forever, both in this world and in the
next, because it had been seen and heard on the stage. Frau von
Eschenhagen had often expressed her views on that subject, and her son,
a good, obedient son always, looked upon her as an oracle. But now he
heaved a deep sigh, as he said half aloud:

"What a shame! What a lamentable shame!"