"That sounds quite different," said Fritz.
The window was opened, and the shawl put out.
"He is firm as a rock," said Laura, seating herself again. "Complaisant as he appears, he knows well what he chooses to do, and, contrary to his own convictions, will not give in, even to me. That is all for the best, for I am still a childish creature, and my father was in the right; I need a husband who will look more calmly on the world than I do."
It began to rain. The coachman put on his cloak, and Fritz spread his plaid and enveloped himself in it. She became very anxious about Fritz, and again knocked at the window.
"It is raining, Fritz."
This the Doctor could not deny.
"Come in, you will get wet and catch cold."
The carriage stopped, and Fritz obediently got down and entered it, while Laura wiped away the raindrops on his hair and shawl with her pocket-handkerchief.
"You said you four times," began Fritz, reprovingly. "If it continues thus, you will have a large reckoning to pay."
"Be serious," began Laura, "I am in a very solemn mood. I am thinking of our future. I will think of it day and night, dearest one, that you may not feel the loss of your mother. Your dear mother has always taken your coffee up to you, but that is unsociable, you shall come over to me and take your breakfast with me; your Hindus must grant this half-hour to me. About ten o'clock I shall send you over an egg, and at dinner-time you will come over again to me. I shall take care that the cooking is good; we will live simply, as we are accustomed, and well. Then you shall tell me something about your books that I may know what my husband is occupied with, for this is a wife's right. In the afternoon we will take a walk together in the streets."