"So you really need the society of a rather stupid fellow, one to whom all this is new and who will furnish a grateful audience?"
"Stupid? No," she answered, "but he ought to be inexperienced. He ought himself to want to learn things. … He ought not to assume a compassionate expression as who should say: 'Ah, my dear child, if you knew what I know, and how indifferent all those things are to me!' … For these things are not indifferent, Richard, not to me, at least. … And for the sake of the joy I take in them, you … "
"Strange how she sees through me," he reflected, "I wonder she clings to me as she does."
And while he was trying to think of something that might help her, the dear boy came into his mind who had to-day divulged to him the sorrows of youth and whom the unconscious desire for a higher plane of life had driven weeping through the streets.
"I know of some one for you."
Her expression was serious.
"You know of some one for me," she repeated with painful deliberateness.
"Don't misunderstand me. It's a playfellow, a pupil—something in the nature of a pastime, anything you will."
He told her the story of Siegfried and the two seamstresses.
She laughed heartily.
"I was afraid you wanted to be rid of me," she said, laying her forehead for a few moments against his sleeve.
"Shame on you," he said, carelessly stroking her hair. "But what do you think? Shall I bring the young fellow?"
"You may very well bring him," she answered. There was a look of pain about her mouth. "Doesn't one even train young poodles?"
Chapter IV.
Three days later, at the same hour of the afternoon, the student,
Fritz von Ehrenberg entered Niebeldingk's study.
"I have summoned you, dear friend, because I want to introduce you to a charming young woman," Niebeldingk said, arising from his desk.
"Now?" Fritz asked, sharply taken aback.
"Why not?"
"Why, I'd have to get my—my afternoon coat first and fix myself up a bit. What is the lady to think of me?"
"I'll take care of that. Furthermore, you probably know her, at least by reputation."
He mentioned the name of her husband which was known far and wide in their native province.
Fritz knew the whole story.
"Poor lady!" he said. "Papa and Mama have often felt sorry for her. I suppose her husband is still living."
Niebeldingk nodded.
"People all said that you were going to marry her."
"Is that what people said?" "Yes, and Papa thought it would be a piece of great good fortune."
"For whom?"
"I beg your pardon, I suppose that was tactless, Herr von
Niebeldingk."
"It was, dear Fritz.—But don't worry about it, just come."
The introduction went smoothly. Fritz behaved as became the son of a good family, was respectful but not stiff, and answered her friendly questions briefly and to the point.
"He's no discredit to me," Niebeldingk thought.
As for Alice, she treated her young guest with a smiling, motherly care which was new in her and which filled Niebeldingk with quiet pleasure. … On other occasions she had assumed toward young men a tone of wise, faint interest which meant clearly: "I will exhaust your possibilities and then drop you." To-day she showed a genuine sympathy which, though its purpose may have been to test him the more sharply, seemed yet to bear witness to the pure and free humanity of her soul.
She asked him after his parental home and was charmed with his naïve rapture at escaping the psychical atmosphere of the cradle-songs of his mother's house. She was also pleased with his attitude toward his younger brothers and sisters, equally devoid, as it was, of exaggeration or condescension. Everything about him seemed to her simple and sane and full of ardour after information and maturity.
Niebeldingk sat quietly in his corner ready, at need, to smooth over any outbreak of uncouth youthfulness. But there was no occasion. Fritz confined himself within the limits of modest liberty and used his mind vigorously but with devout respect and delighted obedience. Once only, when the question of the necessity of authority came up, did he go far.
"I don't give a hang for any authority," he said. "Even the mild compulsion of what are called high-bred manners may go to the deuce for me!"
Niebeldingk was about to interfere with some reconciling remark when he observed, to his astonishment, that Alice who, as a rule, was bitterly hostile to all strident unconventionality, had taken no offence.
"Let him be, Niebeldingk," she said. "As far as he is concerned he is, doubtless, in the right. And nothing would be more shameful than if society were already to begin to make a featureless model boy of him."
"That will never be, I swear to you, dear lady," cried Fritz all aglow and stretching out his hands to ward off imaginary chains. Niebeldingk smiled and thought: "So much the better for him." Then he lit a fresh cigarette.
The conversation turned to learned things. Fritz, paraphrasing Tacitus, vented his hatred of the Latin civilisations. Alice agreed with him and quoted Mme. de Staël. Niebeldingk arose, quietly meeting the reproachful glance of his beloved.
Fritz jumped up simultaneously, but Niebeldingk laughingly pushed him back into his seat.
"You just stay," he said, "our dear friend is only too eager to slaughter a few more peoples."
Chapter V.
When he dropped in at Alice's a few days later he found her sitting, hot-cheeked and absorbed, over Strauss's Life of Jesus.
"Just fancy," she said, holding up her forehead for his kiss, "that young poodle of yours is making me take notice. He gives me intellectual nuts to crack. It's strange how this young generation—"
"I beg of you, Alice," he interrupted her, "you are only a very few years his senior."
"That may be so," she answered, "but the little education I have derives from another epoch. … I am, metaphysically, as unexacting as the people of your generation. A certain fogless freedom of thought seemed to me until to-day the highest point of human development."
"And Fritz von Ehrenberg, student of agriculture, has converted you to a kind of thoughtful religiosity?" he asked, smiling good-naturedly.
In her zeal she wasn't even aware of his irony.
"We're not going to give in so easily. … But it is strange what an impression is made on one by a current of strong and natural feeling. … This young fellow