"I am happy," said he at last, "that my life has made me acquainted with such men as you and our dear Bronnen. We only partially make ourselves what we are. Consciously or unconsciously, we are formed by those with whom we associate."
He pressed Gunther's hand in his, and Gunther was happy to feel that the king's heroic self-glorification was completely subdued--the king's confession being a convincing proof of this.
"Papa!" called a boy's voice from the terrace, "papa!"
They turned in the direction from which the voice had come. The queen, surrounded by the ladies and gentlemen of her court, was sitting on the terrace. With anxious eyes, she had followed every movement of the two men. What might they be speaking of? Were these Elysian days to be disturbed by the old and unforgotten wrong?
And now, when she saw the king take Gunther's hand in his own and hold it for a long while, she embraced the prince, kissed him, and then said:
"Call papa."
The two men turned around and with calm and happy countenances, the sight of which was even more refreshing than that of the beautiful and lofty mountains, came upon the terrace. The king kissed the queen's hand, and, for the first time in years, she pressed it against his lips.
When Gunther was taking his leave, the king said:
"Present my compliments to your wife. I shall pay you a visit to-day, before dinner."
Madame Gunther was amazed when her husband informed her that the king was coming. In spite of all explanations, she could not understand how her husband could thus forgive and forget the injury that had been put upon him--for she could not help looking upon it as an injury and an affront, even though Gunther did not so regard it. For the first time in her life, he was unable to change her opinion. In Gunther's forgiving mood, she thought she detected a spirit of submissiveness which was only possible under a monarchy. Her old republican feelings were aroused.