He turned away, approached the window, and thrummed on the pane.

"I have already told you before, Mr. Hummel, that I will not take back these gloves. Least of all will I do it for this purpose. If the happy day is ever to come to me when I can take Laura to my home, it will only be when you put your daughter's hand in mine. I beg you, dear Mr.

Hummel, to keep these gloves until that day."

"Much obliged," replied Hummel; "you are a miserable Don Juan. I am in duty bound," he continued, in his usual tone, "to communicate to you what is of fitting importance to you. My daughter Laura wishes to elope with you."

"What now disturbs Laura," answered the Doctor, "and has given her these wild thoughts, is no secret to you. She feels herself oppressed by the unpleasant relations which subsist between us. I hope this excitement will pa.s.s away."

"May I be allowed to ask the modest question, whether it is your intention to agree to her plan?"

"I will not do it," rejoined the Doctor.

"Why not?" asked Hummel, coldly. "I for my part, have no objection to it."

"That is one reason the more for me not to act inconsiderately by you, nor to be treated in a like manner."

"I can bequeath my money to the hospital."

"To this remark I have only one answer," replied the Doctor. "You yourself do not believe that this consideration influences my actions."

"Unfortunately not," replied Hummel; "you are both unpractical people.

So you hope that I will at last give you my blessing without an elopement?"

"Yes, I do hope it," exclaimed the Doctor. "However you may wish to appear to me, I trust that the goodness of your heart will be greater than your aversion."

"Do not count upon my indulgence. Doctor. I do not believe that I shall ever prepare a marriage-feast for you. My child gives herself with confidence into your hands; take her."

"No, Mr. Hummel," replied the Doctor, "I shall not do it."

"Has my daughter sunk so much in value because she is ready to become your wife?" asked Mr. Hummel, bitterly, and with a rough voice. "The poor girl has acquired some notions among her learned acquaintances, which do not suit the simple life of her father."

"That is unjust towards us all, and also towards our absent friends,"

said the Doctor, indignantly. "What now distracts Laura is only a petty enthusiasm; there is still in her some of the childish poetry of her early girlhood. He who loves her may have perfect confidence in her pure soul. Only in one respect must he maintain a firm judgment in dealing with her; he must here and there exercise a mild criticism. But I should be unworthy of the love of her pure heart if I should agree to a hasty proceeding, which would at a later period occasion her pain.

Laura shall not do what is unbecoming to her."

"So that is Hindoo," replied Mr. Hummel; "there is a spark of sound common sense in your Botocudens and Brahmins. Do your learned books also find an excuse for a daughter not feeling happy in the house of her parents?"

"That is your fault alone, Mr. Hummel," replied the Doctor.

"Oho!" said Mr. Hummel; "so that's it."

"Forgive me my plain speaking," continued the Doctor. "It is the fashion of Laura's father to play the tyrant a little in his family, in spite of all his love for them. Laura has from her childhood been accustomed to view your strange nature with fear; therefore she does not form the impartial conception of your character, nor feel the pleasure in your mischievous humors that those not so intimately acquainted enjoy. If you had seen Laura's transport when I made known to her what you had done for my father, you would never doubt her heart. Now she is overcome with anguish about our future. But you may be a.s.sured, if Laura were to give in to her fancy and separate herself from her parents' house, she would soon feel gnawing repentance and longing for her parents. Therefore, the man for whom she would now make this sacrifice acts not only honorably, but also prudently, in resisting it."

Mr. Hummel looked fiercely at the Doctor.

"There is the old bear tied to a stake, the young puppies pull at his fur, and the c.o.c.ks crow over his head. Take warning by my fate; under all circ.u.mstances avoid having female offspring." He put his hand upon the gloves, packed them up again, smoothed the paper, and shut them in his writing-desk. "Thus shall I lock up again my unnatural child; for the rest I remain your devoted servant. So your old Hindoos tell you that I am a droll screech-owl, and a jolly _bonvivant_ to strangers. Is that your opinion of my natural propensities?"

"You are not quite so innocent," replied the Doctor, with a bow. "To me you have been always particularly rude."

"There is no one I would rather wrangle with than with you,"

acknowledged Mr. Hummel.

The Doctor bowed, and said:

"When you play with other men as with cats, they only bear such treatment because they perceive good intentions under your cross-grained exterior. I can say this to you, because I am one of the few men to whom you have shown real dislike; and, as you are also obstinate, I know very well that I shall still have to have many a tilt with you, and I am not at all sure how it will end between us. That, however, does not prevent my acknowledging the bitter amiability of your nature."

"I object to any further enlightenment as to my real character,"

exclaimed Mr. Hummel. "You have a disagreeable way of viewing your fellow-men microscopically. I protest against your painting me like a flea in the shadow on the wall. As concerns your proceedings as my daughter's lover, I am content with them. You do not choose to take my child in the way in which she is to be had; I thank you for your scruples. In this matter we are entirely of the same opinion, and you therefore shall not have her at all."

The Doctor wished to interrupt him, but Hummel waved his hand.

"All further talk is useless; you renounce my daughter, but you preserve the esteem of her father, and you have moreover the feeling of acting for the best for Laura. As you feel such great uprightness, you may console yourself with it. You will devote yourself to celibacy, and I should envy you, if it were not for the consideration of Madame Hummel."

"This will not avail, Mr. Hummel," replied the Doctor; "I have not the least intention of renouncing Laura's hand."

"I understand," replied Mr. Hummel; "you wish to besiege my daughter still, from across the street. This quiet pleasure I can, unfortunately no longer allow, for I am certainly of opinion that Laura must at some time leave my house; and as you have chosen the good opinion of the father rather than the daughter, we will confer on this point in mutual understanding. You are mistaken if you think that my daughter Laura will give up her fancies upon wise admonition. Have you not sometimes appealed to my conscience? It was all that could be expected, considering your age; but it has been of no avail with me. It will be the same with this obstinate child. Therefore I am, as a father, of opinion that we must give in to a certain degree to the folly of my child. Consider how far you can go to please us. She wishes to join the Professor's wife. She shall not go to this capital where my lodger has no home, but she has frequently been invited to Bielstein."

The Doctor answered:

"I have urgent reasons for going to my friend during the next few days. I will gladly make a detour by Bielstein, if you will allow me to accompany Laura on this journey, I shall make no secret of its purpose,--and least of all to my parents."

"This elopement is so shabby that, were I a girl, I should be ashamed of taking part in it. But one must not expect too much of you. I will not be at home when this departure takes place: you see, that is natural. I have already made my plans concerning my child's future. I give her over to you for the journey with confidence."

"Mr. Hummel," exclaimed the Doctor, disquieted, "I ask for still greater confidence. How have you decided concerning Laura's future?"

"As you have determined to show me such respect, I beg you will be content with the confidential intimation, that I have no intention of making you any such communication. You preserve my esteem, and I my daughter. My compact is concluded."

"But the compact is not quite satisfactory to me, Mr. Hummel," answered the Doctor.

"Hold your tongue. If in consequence of this agreement you resume your theatrical career, I should advise you never to act the _role_ of lover. The audiences will run out of all the doors. Do I treat people like cats?--So I treated your father and his flowers this morning. You can give him an intimation of that. My wife has plucked to-day a few roosters for my birthday; if roasting these namesakes of yours does not excite painful feelings in you, it will give me pleasure to see you at dinner. You will not be under the embarra.s.sment of having to talk only to my daughter, for the family clown is invited: he will keep up the conversation--you may be silent. Good morning, Doctor."

The Doctor again stretched out his hand to him. Mr. Hummel shook it, grumbling all the while. When he was again alone in his office the melody of the old Dessauer again sounded in the narrow room, now brisk and hearty. Then, soon after, Mr. Hummel broke forth with the second of the two airs--"the Dear Violet"--to which he had recourse when in an unconstrained humor. At last he mixed up the drumming of the Dessauer with "the Dear Violet" in an artistic medley. The book-keeper, who knew that this _pot pourri_ betokened a state of the highest spring warmth, popped his face, smiling respectfully, into the office.

"You may come to dinner to-day," said Mr. Hummel, graciously.

_CHAPTER x.x.xIV_.

OLD ACQUAINTANCES.

Since the conversation upon the Roman emperors, the Sovereign had withdrawn for a few days from his Court. He was ill. His nervous prostration, as the physicians declared, was the usual consequence of a cold. Only a few privileged persons--among them Master Knips--had access to him during this time, and they had no cause to rejoice in their confidential position, for it was difficult to deal with the princely invalid.

To-day the Sovereign was sitting in his study; before him stood an old official, with a weazen face, reporting the daily occurrences of the capital, opinions which were expressed in public places concerning the Sovereign and his ill.u.s.trious house, small scandalous family anecdotes, also observations that had been made in the palace to which the Princess had gone within the last few days, and the persons she had seen there. Prince Victor paid daily visits to the Baroness Hallstein, and pa.s.sed the evening with the officers of his former regiment; he had returned unexpectedly that morning.

"How do things go on in the Pavilion?" asked the Sovereign.