All felt that a great break had come in their life; while the conversation went on easily and continually no one noticed the time, and all believed that it would be very hard work to keep awake till midnight. The Professorin felt the strain, the haunting ghost, if one may so call it, of the impending separation; they were, in fact, no longer here, no longer together. She said more of this than she really meant to, and told them of her entrance into the great world.
Frau Ceres was very attentive, and kept begging her to go on. Suddenly she rose and asked her husband to leave the room with her. Sonnenkamp soon reappeared, and begged the Professorin to do his dear little wife a favor. She declared herself quite ready; and it seemed she was to play the Princess, Eric the Court-Marshal, Sonnenkamp the Prince, and Aunt Claudine the Mistress of Ceremonies. The Aunt resisted the arrangement, and blushed deeply; but the Professorin persuaded her, and managed to make her take the rôle of the Princess.
After a little waiting, the folding-doors were opened. Eric stood at the door with a wand, and led Frau Ceres, who glittered and beamed in diamonds and pearls, to the throne of the Aunt.
The Aunt condescendingly dropped very slightly the fan which she held, and Frau Ceres made a truly courtly reverence.
"Come nearer," said the Aunt. "It is very good in you to take up your abode in our country."
"It was my husband's wish," answered Frau Ceres.
"Your honored husband is very benevolent."
"I thank you," replied Frau Ceres.
"If I were in your place," exclaimed Sonnenkamp, "I would say, Your Highness, it is our duty, and we are highly rewarded for it by its meeting your gracious notice."
"Please write that out for me, I will learn it," said Frau Ceres, turning to her husband. She seemed to have grown younger, and her cheeks glowed.