"It is noble and beautiful as ever," replied Gunther.
"Has she been reading of late? Did she send for the court chaplain?"
"Not to my knowledge, Your Majesty."
The king, who, at other times, found the observance of etiquette so convenient, now found it irksome.
He would have liked the doctor to speak of his own accord, and explain much that was yet unclear, instead of simply answering the questions put to him.
"You have had a great trial; in Count Eberhard, you lost an old friend."
"He lives in my memory, just as he did before he died," replied Gunther.
The king's heart was filled with anger. He had been very friendly in his advances toward this man, had even inquired after an event in his private life, and yet Gunther, while preserving perfect decorum, remained as reserved and as repelling as ever.
His old aversion toward this man, who, in the midst of the excitement at court, always remained unmoved, was again aroused. He dismissed Gunther, with a gracious wave of his hand; but when he had gone, his eye followed him with a sinister expression.
A thought occurred to him which made his cheeks glow, and determined him upon another line of action. It was now clear to him that the real cause of his misstep lay in the fact that a third person had stood between him and his wife. This should no longer be the case, no matter how well it was meant. Instead of asking Gunther for information as to his wife's thoughts and feelings, she should tell him all, in person and alone. He felt a deep affection for her, and thought that, since he had conquered so much within himself, he was again worthy of her.