"I think I can feel that with you," said Oswald
"Impossible, my dear sir, impossible!" sighed the other. "I tell you there is no such window in the wide world. In the deep embrasure stands an arm-chair, covered with black morocco, which Frau von Berkow gave me as a birthday present two years ago--a cushion, which she has herself embroidered for me on my last birthday, lies against the back--well, I cannot describe it all. But then, to sit there on a summer evening, when the voices of Frau von Berkow and Julius come up to me from the garden, and the smoke of my cigar floats away through the leaves----"
With these words Mr. Bemperlein blew two huge blue clouds of smoke from his cigar through the open window at which he sat, and shook his head sadly, as if to say, Here, that produces not the slightest effect; but you ought to see it in my arm-chair!
"Yes, indeed----" suggested Oswald.
"No, my dear sir, you cannot possibly feel as I feel. You do not know what a charming boy Julius is. I have been there seven years now, and if he has given me a single unpleasant hour, a single minute even, my name is not Anastasius Bemperlein. And then--Frau von Berkow--you do not know her."
Oswald turned his face, for he felt how the blood rose in his cheeks.
"You have no idea what an angel of goodness that lady is! What do I not owe her--all! Before I came to Berkow, I knew just as much of the air and the sun, of everything that is beautiful on earth, as a mole. I was a real bear, a perfect rhinoceros, and if I now look a little more like a man, I owe it all to her. And what has she not done for me in every respect! Once, I remember, I was laid up for weeks with typhoid fever. The first person I recognized, when I awoke from my stupor, was Frau von Berkow, and then old Baumann. It was an afternoon in summer, just as to-day. The bed curtains were half closed. Baumann and his mistress were standing at a little distance from me, near a table. 'If I am not to be sick myself, Baumann, I must ride out this afternoon for half an hour,' said Frau von Berkow. 'Don't let Bemperlein die in the mean time, you hear!' 'Yes, ma'am,' said old Baumann. But you must not think, my dear sir, that I think this kindness on the part of Frau von Berkow is anything like a special favor due to my special merits--far from it. I have seen Frau von Berkow lavish the same grace and goodness upon entirely indifferent persons. I really believe the heart of the lady is not made of the same material of which other hearts are made. I think she cannot help doing good and making others happy, just as a canary-bird must sing and a squirrel must jump, because it is their nature and they cannot help it. Pardon me, my dear sir, for detaining you with these things, which cannot possibly interest you, but really, my heart is too full--I cannot keep it from overflowing, and I trust you will not, for all that, set me down as a sentimental fellow."
"I can only assure you, Mr. Bemperlein, that your confidence is not misplaced, even though you will not allow me to sympathize with you fully."
"I will not allow you! It is my greatest wish that you should do so, especially as I came here, to tell the truth, with the very selfish design to ask your advice in a very important matter of business."
"My advice?"