ne, at least, are unhappy."

The Professorin was silent, and the Superior continued,--

"Your silence is assent, and now look at the great difference; among a
hundred nuns you find scarcely one unhappy one."

Frau Dournay was still silent; she did not wish to debate this
assertion: she was a guest, and would not try to convert or correct;
but the Superior seemed to try to draw her out as she asked,--

"Do you know a more unhappy position than that of a girl who knows
herself, and whom others know, to be the heiress of millions? Is she to
believe in the love of frail human creatures? Is she to believe that
she is wooed for her own sake? There is nothing for her, but to give
herself and her wealth into the hands of the Eternal. This I say to
you--I know not what commission you have, and even if you have none,
you can report it. We do not try to gain Manna and her future wealth,
we insist that she shall go back into the world, and return to us only
on her own free decision. There is neither compulsion nor intimidation
on our part, but it is our duty to protect those who prefer the
imperishable to the perishable, wherever they may be. Now you know all,
and we will say no more on the subject."

The Superior left her, and Frau Dournay walked out alone upon the
island. It seemed to her that it would be a bold act, one of
unjustifiable rashness indeed, to take this child by force, even the
force of affection, from this sphere where she lived at peace and
wished to end her life. She stood on the shore, and almost without
knowing why, allowed herself to be taken across to the main-land, where
she was not a little astonished to find Herr Sonnenkamp and Herr von
Pranken, taking wine together, under the shady lindens of the inn.

Pranken was dressed so strangely that she thought she was mistaken, and
she was about to turn back; but she heard her name called, and
approached the two men in the garden.

Sonnenkamp was in high spirits, declaring himself very fortunate to
have met his friend Pranken here; he considered it a fine thing that
the Baron had changed himself into a husbandman, hinting that he
himself had once been something of the kind; then he said,--

"We have no secrets from our friend, will Manna go home with us, Frau
Professorin?"

The Professorin replied that not a word had been said on the subject,
and that it seemed hardly to be wished; it would be well to let Manna
complete her time at the convent, and certa