"To Weisenfels. The duke sent for me this morning. He wishes a report of the state of health in Halle."
"Oh, father, please take me with you! I've never seen the court, and I want to go so much!"
"Not this time, Georg. I have business to attend to, and I cannot look after you."
"You needn't look after me," insisted the lad, laying his hand upon the door of the slowly moving vehicle. "I'll be good and do everything you say, and Christian will take care of me. Please, father, take me!"
"No, no! Some other time I'll take you, but this time I shall be too busy. Get up, Mummer!"
With the touch of the whip, the ancient mare broke into a gentle dogtrot, the only gait more swift than a walk in which she ever indulged.
Georg saw the carriage roll through the gates and take the road toward Weisenfels.
To go to the duke's court was something that he had long desired, and this seemed a wholly favorable time for the undertaking. Had his father's denial been decisive, Georg would have accepted it with the best grace he could muster, and gone on about his visit; but he had seen that the surgeon was merely preoccupied, refusing the petition absently in order that his reflections should not be disturbed, rather than that he cared to forbid the journey.