"Ambitious? Well, it is not such a simple matter as all that. But let's talk about something else. What a strange idea to indulge in a theoretical conversation on the subject of art, when we haven't seen each other for a hundred years! So come, then, Bertha, tell me something about yourself! What do you do with yourself at home? How do you live? And what really put it into your head to congratulate me on getting that silly Order?"
She smiled a second time.
"I wanted to write to you again," she answered; "and, chiefly, I wanted to hear something of you once more; It was really very good of you to answer my letter at once."
"Good? Not at all, my child! I was so pleased when, all of a sudden, your letter came—I recognised your writing at once. You know, you still have the same schoolgirl writing as…. Well, let us say, as in the old days, although I can't bear such expressions."
"But why?" she asked, somewhat astonished.
He looked at her, and then said in a rapid voice:
"Well, tell me, how do you live? You must generally get very bored,
I'm sure."
"I haven't much time for that," she replied gravely. "I give lessons, you must know."
"Oh!"
His tone was one of such disproportionate pity that she felt constrained to add quickly: