"That is right," replied the Professor, laughing.
In a short time the Hereditary Prince and his Chamberlain found out that this good treatment was very pleasant. The Chamberlain proved himself an agreeable man; he had travelled much, had experience of all sorts, had seen much, and read a good deal on various subjects; he collected autographs, had no vices and no bad habits. During a long sojourn in Rome he had been intimate with old acquaintances of the Professor, he had wandered through the ruins of Pompeii, and showed a warm interest in the details of old Roman houses. Besides this he understood how to listen and how to ask questions, and could, with decorum, tell doubtful anecdotes of people of note. His conversation was agreeable to the Professor, he was welcome at Ilse's tea-table, and liked by her guests. It seemed also to give him pleasure to converse with the learned men; he visited the Doctor and examined his old wood-cuts; he treated Professor Raschke with considerate politeness, and, with his Prince, accompanied the Philosopher on a fine winter evening to his distant dwelling, and during the walk Raschke imparted to them very interesting observations upon plants.
It cannot be said that the Hereditary Prince was much at home among the Professors; he listened with toleration to their conversation, as became an academical student, and said the right thing at the right time; but he showed by an impatient jerk of his lorgnette that he would much have preferred any other kind of entertainment.
Ilse was not pleased when he fidgeted with his glass, for she wished that he should conduct himself with dignity among other men, and she seemed to feel as if the gentlemen would reproach her because the Prince took no real interest in serious subjects. As mistress of the house, therefore, she was very attentive to him; she ventured to advise him not to drink his tea too strong, and prepared it for him herself. The Prince was pleased with this, and enjoyed sitting next to her or watching her perform her duties at the table as hostess. It was only with her that he ever lost his cautious reserve; he talked to her of the remarkable things he had seen in the town, and when he had nothing to say, he assisted her in her duties; he placed the cream jug before her, and always passed the sugar-bowl when he thought that Ilse wanted it.
One evening as the Prince was sitting silently by Ilse's side, and the gentlemen present were engaged in passing indignant judgment on the arbitrary management of the Vatican Library, Ilse proposed to him to look over a work that her husband had bought, containing good portraits of famous men of learning and artists. They went to examine it by a lamp in the next room, and the Prince looked at the portraits with languid interest. "Of many of them I only know," began Ilse, "what my husband has told me; I have not read their books, and of the beautiful things they have painted and composed, I know but little."
"That is just my case," replied the Prince, honestly, "it is only about the musicians that I know anything."
"Yet it is a pleasure to look at their portraits," continued Ilse; "one judges from them what the character and merits of these men may have been, and when one asks any person who knows more, one finds one's views sometimes confirmed and sometimes erroneous. That seems to make us like the men and become intimate with them, and we seek for opportunities of making acquaintance with their works of art and learning. I long to know more about them. But when one has read about a great man, and after a time sees his picture, then his face appears like that of a dear friend."
"Do you like to read?" asked the Prince, looking up.
"I am beginning to like it," replied Ilse; "but unlearned heads do not take in serious things at once, especially when they excite earnest thoughts."
"I do not like to read," replied the Prince; "at least in the way in which it is pressed upon me. It is tedious to me, for I have never learned anything thoroughly, and I know nothing well."