p a secret?"

"Oh, I am only sorry that I have gone so far," stammered Fraeulein
Milch, drawing her cap-strings through her fingers. "It is the first
time for fifty years that I have paid a visit, or eaten at a stranger's
table; I ought not to have done it; I have not yet gained self-control
enough."

Her face quivered, and her brown eyes glowed.

"I thought that you looked on me as a friend," said the Professorin,
holding out her hand.

"Yes, so I do," cried Fraeulein Milch, seizing the hand with both her
own, and pressing it with fervor. "You cannot tell how I thank God for
having granted me this before my death; since I devoted myself to him,
I have renounced all the world; you are the first--oh, I think you must
know all, you need be told nothing."

"I do not know all. What do you know of Herr Sonnenkamp?"

Fraeulein Milch hung her head sadly, then put both hands before her
face, crying,--

"Why must I tell you?" Then she rose, put her mouth to the
Professorin's ear, and whispered something. Frau Dournay threw her head
back, and grasped the sewing-machine, which stood before her, with both
hands. Not a word was spoken. Outside, all was still, except for the
cawing of a flock of crows which were hovering over the Rhine.

"I do not think you would tell me such a thing on a mere rumor," said
the Professorin at last. "Go on, and tell me plainly how you learned
it."

Fraeulein Milch looked round timidly, and answered:--

"I have it from the most trustworthy of men, whose nephew has sent a
child here to be educated; he knows the name which Herr Sonnenkamp
formerly bore, and all about his past life. But, dear, noble lady, why
should not a man be able to take up a different life, a new existence,
whatever he may have done?"

"Of that another time," interrupted Frau Dournay; "tell me the name of
the man who has told you this."

"So be it then. It was Herr Weidmann."

The Professorin covered her face with her hands. "What are you saying
of Herr Weidmann?" asked the Major, entering suddenly. "I can tell you,
Frau Professorin, that any one who doesn't know that man, doesn't know
one of the best and truest men in the world. He's one of God's
masterpieces, and God himself must have satisfaction in him; every day,
when He looks down from heaven, he must say: The world isn't yet so
bad, for down yonder I have my Weidmann; he is a man--a genuine man.
Everything is included in that, there's nothing more to be said."