in town!"

Valentine noticed nothing of the feverish suspense with which the old
gentleman awaited an answer to the question which he had disguised as
an exclamation. "I've done nothing of the kind," he replied earnestly.
The old gentleman's supposition had wounded him. "In the first place I
didn't really think myself that anything was very wrong yet; and Frau
Nettenmair has not spoken to a soul since then."

The old gentleman took hope anew. During Valentine's absence he had
given way for a moment to all the anguish that a father cannot but
feel under such circumstances; but then he reasoned with himself that
there was no use in wasting time in idle complaint as long as
something might still be done. Even if Valentine and Christiane had
told nobody what they knew, other things of the same sort might have
become known. Such a criminal thought does not originate by chance; it
is the blossom of a poisonous tree with trunk and branches. Valentine
had to tell him all that had happened since Apollonius' return home.
It was the story of a wanton, inordinate, pleasure-seeking spendthrift
who in spite of the efforts of his better brother had sunk to the
level of an ordinary libertine and drunkard; of a faithful brother
who, compelled by the necessity of rescuing the honor of business and
home, had shouldered the care of everything and as a reward was being
persecuted unto death by the degraded prodigal.

The old gentleman sat motionless. Only the blush that burned ever
warmer on his thin cheeks betrayed what he suffered for the honor of
his house. Otherwise he seemed to know it all, already. That was his
old manner, which he perhaps made use of now because he thought that
Valentine would then be less likely to conceal or alter facts against
his better knowledge. His inward agitation prevented him from
perceiving in what strong contradiction this semblance of calm stood
to his morbid sense of honor. Valentine did not endeavor to deepen the
shadows which fell upon Fritz Nettenmair's conduct, but, knowing the
old gentleman as he thought he did, he deemed it necessary to place
Apollonius' actions in the brightest possible light. But he only half
knew the old gentleman after all. He miscalculated the effect that he
would produce when he praised the filial tenderness with which
Apollonius had withheld all news of danger from his father's ears.
Thus he undid what a simple tale, describing the son's efforts to save
that which the o