"The world and life are full of riddles, Bruno. Life is a Sphinx and we are Œdipus. And it is the curse of Œdipus that he must solve the enigma, although the solution makes him unhappy."
"You are not angry with me, Oswald?"
"I angry, darling! Why should I?"
"Because I trouble you with such absurd questions."
"You ought to ask me, Bruno; ask me about everything which causes you doubt or trouble. Your soul ought to lie open before me like a book, which I may peruse over and over again. Would to God I could write nothing but what is wise and good on its white pages."
"You are always kind, so very kind towards me, Oswald, and I return only ingratitude and obstinacy!"
"No, you do not do that--and then, are we not brothers? Brothers must love, and bear, and support each other, and have no right to keep their troubles apart. Bruno, if I could cherish the pious faith of many, that the spirits of the departed hover around the beloved ones whom they have left behind upon earth, I would say: From yonder, in the bright starry sky, our mothers are looking down upon us, and rejoice at our union and our love. Let us stand by each other in this wild strife of life, for defence and offence. It will not be long before you are a man like myself, and would to God a better man than I am. Then the last difference, the difference of years, which I do not feel even now, will have disappeared. It may be that then I will look up to you, as you now look up to me; then you will repay me a hundred-fold what I may be able to do for you now; then I shall be--oh, so willingly!--your debtor!"
"Ah, that will never be!" said Bruno. "You will always be unattainably far ahead of me. I shall never be what you are even now."
"You little fool!" said Oswald, and affectionately caressed Bruno's hair. "Now you are sitting in the pit before the stage of life, and the pasteboard roll looks to your enthusiastic eye a huge mountain, and all the tinsel genuine gold. When you are on the stage yourself, the sweet rosy veil of illusion will drop from before your eyes, and you will see your mistake. But be it so! After your first painful disappointment, you will soon understand that it cannot be otherwise; you will not despise your brother, because you now see that his proud knightly cloak is of faded silk, and sadly patched, and his spurs nothing but brass--but hush! here comes Mr. Timm and mademoiselle! It seems Mr. Timm improves the opportunity to cultivate his French. We will not disturb him in his praiseworthy purposes. Let us turn off here."
Mr. Timm, who had not noticed Oswald and Bruno, now came by, arm in arm with Mademoiselle Marguerite, speaking eagerly, but carefully softening his clear, loud voice. He had indeed known how to improve the "opportunity," though in another sense than that to which Oswald alluded. The young man attached very little importance to his pronunciation of French, but very much to the evident advantages he might derive from the good-will of the young lady, who seemed to preside over the interior of the household. As he would probably spend several weeks at the château, this was a matter of great interest to him, and he had taken prompt measures to secure the favor of the little Frenchwoman, which might in many ways mitigate the monotony of country life. During the delightful, cosey little tête-à-tête, the conversation had been carried on in German, with an occasional use of French, as mademoiselle spoke German quite fluently and Mr. Timm spoke French very badly, and the harmless, innocent, and truth-loving young man hated nothing more than the possibility of being understood imperfectly, or, worse than that, of being misunderstood.