“Why were you invited?” enquired his spouse.
“I haven’t the slightest idea,” was his reply. “Anyway, I am afraid I made but a poor impression.”
A week later von Rottenburg was again sitting in his room when Count Wilhelm Bismarck was announced.
“My father wishes to see you to-morrow,” he said.
“Indeed, and may I ask what for?”
“That is his business, not mine. Be pleased to call at such an hour.”
Perplexed as to the repetition of the invitation the young diplomat called as desired. Bismarck was sitting at his table writing. The man who held the destiny of Europe in his hands looked up and nodded.
“Sit down,” he said, and went on signing letters.
When he had finished blotting the last bold signature, turning to von Rottenburg, he said:
“Do you wonder why I sent for you?”