I said nothing more, and that was enough.
On the following morning, Richard announced that he was about to depart, and it cost me a great effort to induce Martella to permit him to take leave of her. At last she came, on condition that I would remain present while Richard bade her farewell.
Richard said:
"Martella, you have a right to be angry with me, but I am angrier at myself than you can possibly be. I make no protestations, no oaths; but I pledge my honor as a man, that you will nevermore hear a wrong word or receive a wrong glance from me. Farewell."
Thus, this trouble was arranged; but it seemed as if there could be nothing perfect in this world.
I do not know whether Johanna had been eavesdropping, or how she happened to find it out; but, at dinner, she spitefully hinted at what had happened, for when we were talking of the imprisoned fish poacher, she said, "People who are without religion are capable of anything, and the irreligious ones who catch a thief are no better than the thief himself. They stretch forth their hands to grasp things that ought to be sacred in their eyes."
During the whole of that winter I saw nothing of Richard, and received but one letter from him, in which he informed me that he had been offered an appointment at a distant university, and that, for many reasons, he would gladly have accepted it, but that the Prince had requested him to remain in the country. He added that he was now again able to say that his only happiness lay in the pursuit of science.
It was a great pleasure to me to have Julius stationed in our neighborhood. He was so pure, so fresh, and so bright, that whenever he came to our house, his presence seemed like the odor of flowers.
I am indebted to Julius for joys which even transcend those my children have given me, and my pride in my eldest grandson was now about to be mingled with that I cherished for my eldest son.
My joy was fully shared by Rothfuss. He counted how many days it would be before Ludwig arrived, and said: