"Both are my affairs," was the quick, irritable answer. The next minute he repented, and held out an apologetic hand. "I don't know what is the matter with me," he said. "I'm not fit companion for a savage. Don't take me seriously, there's a good fellow, and lend me a helping hand this once. I want it badly."
Seleneck shook his head.
"As you have just suggested, you know your own business best," he said gravely, "and I shall certainly do what I can. My uncle, the General Hulson, is giving a ball some time this winter. I and the wife aren't going. We can't afford it. But I daresay I could get you invitations; and once you are in the tide you will be able to swim on for yourselves. All the same"—he laid a kindly hand on Wolff's shoulder—"I can only tell you what you yourself know, that the officer who burns his mental and financial resources at both ends is lost. Es wäre Schade um dich, alter Junge!"
Wolff smiled.
"Don't worry," he said. "I shall take care of myself, and, at any rate—thanks for helping me."
The Hussar had by now finished his trial, and Seleneck, with a general salute, hurried out of the barracks. He was a sensitive man who felt a good many things acutely which his brain did not understand, and something in his friend's manner caused him an unexplained distress. He knew that Wolff had changed—his very actions were proof of the fact. It was not like him to part with an animal to which he was attached with the real affection of a good rider for a good horse; it was not like him to seek steps to his advancement in the patronage of his superiors. Wolff had never been a "place-hunter." Whilst always a favourite with those under whom he served, he had not sought their favour by any other means than his ready goodwill and the vigorous, unsparing fulfilment of his duty. And now he was talking of dancing attendance at every general's levee like any common Streber for whom all means are good enough so long as the end is attained.
Seleneck sighed as he hurried homewards. Yes, the change in his friend was there right enough, and it had left its trace on the man's whole bearing. He had been neither as frank nor as cheery nor as self-confident as was his wont, and there had been a grim determination in his voice and manner which warned against all interference. Above all things, no laughter and forced good spirits had concealed the fact that he was not at his ease. His whole newly born gravity had borne more the stamp of the stiff-lipped recklessness of an adventurer than the sober determination of a good soldier seeking a short cut to success; and Seleneck, who felt for Wolff an ungrudging admiration, boded no good for the future if the change continued. "I have seen a few dozen fellows go like that," he thought to himself, "and it has always ended in breakdown. Only in their case it was horses or cards, and I'll wager that neither play any part in Wolff's trouble. I wonder what the devil is the matter?"
He was still wondering when he reached home, after an unusually tedious and disagreeable walk. More than once he had been tempted to take the tram, in order to be quicker home to Elsa and the comfort of shifting on to her willing shoulders the burden of his doubts; but the consideration of expense held him back. After all, trams become too easily a habit. Two trams a day cost 20 pf. and six days amount to 1.20, and 1.30 will buy a bottle of Landwein good enough for the little "evenings" which one is bound to give if one is a good comrade. So Freiherr von Seleneck had walked, and those who had observed him had envied the immaculate uniform and the lordly bearing, making no guess at the empty pockets of the one and the entire innocence of the other. For lordliness and Seleneck were unknown to each other; and if he bore himself with a certain unconscious assertiveness, it was because he wore the King's uniform, and not in the least because he thought himself a great man.
Somewhat to his surprise and disappointment, his wife was not at the door to receive him when he arrived. The Bursche who helped him off with his coat told him the gnädige Frau had visitors and was in the drawing-room. Thither Seleneck at once repaired. Usually a sociable and hospitable man, he felt he could have dispensed with guests in the one hour of the day when he was certain of his wife's undivided company, but his slight annoyance evaporated as soon as he saw who the visitors were. Nora herself occupied the sofa, and her fair young face, lit by a faint, almost embarrassed, smile of greeting, inspired Seleneck with the brilliant reflection that she had no doubt come to confide the trouble, whatsoever it was, to his wife's sympathetic ears. The hope was immediately dispelled, however, by Frau von Seleneck herself, who drew his attention to the presence of a young man seated at the other end of the room, nursing an elegantly booted foot with the air of profoundest boredom.
"I do not think you have met before," she said. "This is Frau von Arnim's brother—Mr. Ingestre."