many, in place of the many he had lost. … Diederich heard him saying, in clear, formal tones: "I succeeded in having our modern street plan altered in order to spare this house and these paintings. They have only the value of descriptive records, it may be. But a picture which lends permanence to its own times and manners may hope for permanence itself." Then Diederich retreated; for he was ashamed on Fritzsche's account.
The secret Countess had now married the music-teacher and every one was impressed by her tragic fate. Frau Harnisch, Frau Cohn and the Mayor's mother-in-law had been weeping. Jadassohn, who had washed off the grease-paint, and come to receive congratulations, was not well received by the ladies. "It is your fault, Dr. Jadassohn, that this happened! After all, she was your own sister." "I beg your pardon, ladies," and Jadassohn proceeded to defend his attitude as the legitimate heir to the count's possessions. Then Meta Harnisch said: "Well, you did not have to be so nasty about it."
Immediately every one looked at his ears and sniggered. Jadassohn, who kept asking in vain what was the matter, was taken aside by Diederich. With a pleasant thrill of revenge in his heart Diederich led him right up to where the Governor's wife was saying good-bye to Major Kunze, with the liveliest expressions of thanks for his efforts on behalf of her play. As soon as she saw Jadassohn she turned her back on him. Jadassohn stood as if rooted to the spot. Diederich did not bring him any further. "What's wrong?" he asked hypocritically. "Oh, of course, Frau von Wulckow. You have annoyed her. You are not to be made Public Prosecutor. Your ears are too prominent."
Whatever Diederich may have expected, Jadassohn's monstrous grimace was a surprise! Where was the lofty good form to which he had dedicated his life? "I say I shall," was all he could say, quite softly, yet it seemed like a ter-
