eserve, an indescribable something, the result of that life in
the convent which to Lina had been productive of nothing but an
acquaintance with foreign languages.

The Doctor afterwards expressed to the Professorin, as they were
walking back and forth together in the garden, great curiosity to know
whether worldly wisdom would succeed in triumphing over the influence
of the Church, and also his regret that she herself was not a Catholic,
as in that case her task would be much easier. But the lady remained
firm in her decision to exert no influence whatever on Manna; she was
not only not required by her duty to do so, but would actually have no
right, Manna being betrothed to Pranken.

"Who knows?" replied the Doctor, "who knows? The Huguenots not only
went into exile themselves; their example made others emigrate: and
often our influence is greatest when it is quite unintentional."

Sonnenkamp wished Lina to spend some of these Spring weeks with his
daughter, and Manna had no alternative but to second the invitation.
Lina accepted, on condition of obtaining her parents' consent, and
returned with the Doctor to be sent for the next day.

Pranken, who remained through the evening, was rejoiced at Manna's
confiding to him that she had already painfully experienced the world's
temptation to want of truthfulness; for that, to speak with perfect
candor, she did not desire a visit from Lina, and yet she had been
obliged to request it; that she thought was the great sin of the world,
that it makes us false to ourselves.

Pranken hoped that Lina's visit would have an enlivening effect upon
Manna; to begin with, however, he wanted to find out how she liked the
Professorin. In approaching the subject he so carefully worded his
remarks that if Manna should speak with enthusiasm he could fall in
with it, and the same if she expressed dislike.

Manna repressed the confession that rose to her lips, that she felt
herself already bewildered by the confusion that prevailed in the
house, and longed for the well-ordered quiet of the convent, and merely
complained of feeling so unlike herself in the world. But, when Pranken
thanked her for this confidence, she recoiled and said, scarce above
her breath, that the world made people talkative even when they wished
to be reserved.

"I am glad to hear you speak of reserve," resumed Pranken, after a
pause; "for our Archbishop enjoined it upon me lately in those very
words. 'Be reserved,'