“Well, Christian,” said M. Goefle, when they were seated side by side in the sleigh, on their way back to Stollborg, “were you in earnest in what you said about?—by the way, I notice that I have fallen into a habit, I don’t know how, of addressing you very familiarly by your given name.”
“Please to continue it, M. Goefle, it is very pleasant to me.”
“But I am not old enough to take liberties of that kind—I am not sixty yet, Christian; I don’t want you to consider me a patriarch.”
“God forbid! But I considered the liberty you speak of as a mark of friendship.”
“So it is, my son. Well, in that case I will let ceremony go; tell me—”
Here M. Goefle paused so long that Christian thought he was asleep; but he aroused himself, and said suddenly:
“Tell me, Christian, if you were rich what would you do with your money?”
“Do?” said the young man, surprised; “I should try to make as many people as possible partakers in my happiness.”
“Then it would make you happy?”
“Yes. I would make a voyage round the world.”