"But in this," stoutly maintained Hartmann, "I know I'm right. We can't think for other people any more than we can eat or sleep for them. Every happy creature is bound, by nature, to lead its own life. And, first of all, it must be free!"
"James," asked Grimm in amused contempt, "where on earth do you get these wild ideas?"
"By reading what modern thinkers write, sir."
"H'—m! I thought so. Change your mental diet. There's a set of Jost Vanden Vandell over on the shelves. Read it. Cultivate sentiment."
Hartmann shrugged his big shoulders and went on sealing and stamping letters. But Grimm would not let this topic drop so easily.
"Free!" he scoffed. "Maybe you've thought you noticed Katje was not happy?"
"No, sir. I can't honestly say I have."
"I should think not!" chimed in Peter. "These are the happiest hours of her whole life. Don't I know? Can't I tell? Don't I know her and love her better than any one else does? She's happy. Beautifully happy. And why shouldn't she be? She's young. She's in love. She's soon to be married. What girl wouldn't be happy?"
There was a long pause. Peter was reading over the last letter of the budget. Hartmann was staring at him aghast.
"Soon to be married?" breathed the secretary when he could steady his voice. "Then—then it's all settled, sir?"