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The curtain fell, the audience slowly emerged from its ecstasy, and expressed its feelings all the more deeply by applauding the servant and the lieutenant who, it was unfortunately evident, would have to bear still longer with the cruel fate of not being received at Court.

"It is really awful!" sighed Frau Harnisch and Frau Cohn. Meanwhile the Governor's wife was holding a reception in the mirrored gallery and receiving congratulations, while Diederich tried to work up the enthusiasm. Heuteufel, Cohn, Harnisch and several gentlemen made his task difficult, for they let it be understood, though cautiously, that they considered the whole thing piffle. Diederich had to give them hints about the absolutely first-rate third act, in order to shut them up. He dictated a detailed account of what the authoress had told him to Rothgroschen, who had to leave, as the paper was going to press. "If you write any nonsense, you damned penny-a-liner, I'll punch your head!" Rothgroschen thanked him and took his leave. Professor Kühnchen, who was listening, buttonholed Diederich and shrieked: "I say, old man, there's one thing you forgot to tell our gossip-monger." The editor, hear ing himself mentioned, returned, and Kühnchen continued: "I mean that the magnificent invention of our honoured hostess has been anticipated, and from no less a person than Goethe in his 'Natürliche Tochter.' Now, that is the highest praise that can be given to the author!"

Diederich had his doubts about the appropriateness of Kühnchen's discovery, but deemed it unnecessary to state them. The little old man was already fighting his way through the throng, his hair streaming wildly, and he could be seen stopping in front of Frau von Wulckow and explaining to her the result of his researches into comparative literature. Such a fiasco as he experienced could not have been foreseen, even by Diederich. The authoress said in icy tones: "There must be some mistake in what you say, Professor. Is the 'Natürliche Tochter' by Goethe at all?" she asked, turning up her