[A kindly little elderly man, enters the front room, smoking and chatting familiarly with the tutor, who is also smoking; he looks round and shakes his head in surprise at finding the room empty.] You are young, Mr. Weinhold, which explains everything. At your age we old fellows held—well, I won't say the same opinions—but certainly opinions of the same tendency. And there's something fine about youth—youth with its grand ideals. But unfortunately, Mr. Weinhold, they don't last; they are as fleeting as April sunshine. Wait till you are my age. When a man has said his say from the pulpit for thirty years—fifty-two times every year, not including saints' days—he has inevitably calmed down. Think of me, Mr. Weinhold, when you come to that pass.
WEINHOLD
[Nineteen, pale, thin, tall, with lanky fair hair; restless and nervous in his movements.] With all due respect, Mr. Kittelhaus…. I can't think … people have such different natures.
KITTELHAUS
My dear Mr. Weinhold, however restless-minded and unsettled, a man may be—[in a tone of reproof]—and you are a case in point—however violently and wantonly he may attack the existing order of things, he calms down in the end. I grant you, certainly, that among our professional brethren individuals are to be found, who, at a fairly advanced age, still play youthful pranks. One preaches against the drink evil and founds temperance societies, another publishes appeals which undoubtedly read most effectively. But what good do they do? The distress among the weavers, where it does exist, is in no way lessened—but the peace of society is undermined. No, no; one feels inclined in such cases to say: Cobbler, stick to your last; don't take to caring for the belly, you who have the care of souls. Preach the pure Word of God, and leave all else to Him who provides shelter and food for the birds, and clothes the lilies of the field.—But I should like to know where our good host, Mr. Dreissiger, has suddenly disappeared to.
[MRS. DREISSIGER, followed by MRS. KITTELHAUS, now comes forward. She is a pretty woman of thirty, of a healthy, florid type. A certain discrepancy is noticeable between her deportment and way of expressing herself and her rich, elegant toilette.]
MRS. DREISSIGER
That's what I want to know too, Mr. Kittelhaus. But it's what William always does. No sooner does a thing come into his head than off he goes and leaves me in the lurch. I've said enough about it, but it does no good.
KITTELHAUS
It's always the way with business men, my dear Mrs. Dreissiger.