"Am I to have no son because I was no son?" he cried once, but quickly controlling himself he added: "Do not heed me, dear lady; I am speaking myself like a man in fever."
The Mother begged him to compose himself, for she was sure that by the mysterious laws of sympathy, any excitement in those about him would react upon the patient.
In the stillness of the night the Mother sat by the boy's sick-bed, listening to the chimes that rang out the hours from the church tower; and these bells, heard in the night by the sick-bed of the poor rich boy, brought up her own life before her.
Eric often reproached himself for his too great indulgence, in having allowed Roland to be drawn into that whirl of excitement which was now perhaps killing him; and he remembered that day in the cold gallery before the Niobe, when the fever first showed itself. He was another whom the Mother had to soothe. She alone preserved a firm balance, and offered a support on which all others could lean. She handed Eric the letter she had received from Professor Einsiedel on New Year's day, and asked about the scientific work which she had not before heard of. Eric explained how it had all come about. His mother perceived that he had yet learned nothing of Sonnenkamp's past life, and took care to tell him nothing, thinking he ought not to have the additional burden of such knowledge at this time of anxiety for the sick boy, and of increased difficulties in the way of his training.
In obedience to Dr. Richard's strict directions, the Mother often went out to visit her old friends, among them the wife of the Minister of War, and was greatly comforted at learning that Eric could have a professorship in the school of cadets, when Roland entered the academy. She always returned home greatly cheered from these visits.
Eric, too, made calls, spending many hours with Clodwig. Bella he seldom saw, and then but for a short time; she evidently avoided now any interview with him alone.
Pranken took great offence at Eric's mother having been sent for without his advice; these Dournays seemed to him to be weaving a net about the Sonnenkamp family. He came sometimes to inquire for Roland, but spent most of his time at Herr von Endlich's, in the society of the young widow lately returned from Madeira.
Much as Eric had desired to become better acquainted with Weidmann, the whirl of society had hitherto prevented, and now that the Parliament was no longer in session, Weidmann had left the capital without any closer relation having been formed between them.
Weeks passed away in trembling suspense. The sick boy's wandering fancies took a wholly new direction. He imagined himself with Manna, and was constantly talking to her, caressing her, jesting with her, and teasing her about the picture of Saint Anthony. Manna had not been told of her brother's illness; it seemed useless to burden her with anxiety, when she could do nothing to help.
Sonnenkamp continued to be greatly vexed that there was nothing to be done but to wait for the forces of nature. He sent considerable sums of money to the poor of the capital and to all the charitable institutions; he reminded Eric of what he had told him of the teachers' union, and handed him a handsome sum for the furthering of the objects of the association.