Warnicken had suddenly become wearisome to the Regierungsrath; always the Wolfs-schlucht, and the Fuchs-spitze, and the monotonous sound of the breakers, and the usually bad dinner, and the Liberal Kreisgerichtsrath, who daily became more unbearable. At the same time the intolerable heat; everything was uncomfortable for him, even his flannel jacket, and his big white neck-cloth, and at times even his Miranda.
The latter, too, was not exactly in a roseate temper, and she exposed her majestic side more than usual, especially to those who stood nearest to her throne.
Political questions were now but little discussed with the Kreisgerichtsrath; as regards politics, the Regierungsrath was very reserved; but were there not a hundred other subjects about which they could hold opposite views, and the Regierungsrath now always was of an opposite opinion from every other mortal with whom he commenced a conversation.
It was a sultry summer evening, when Kalzow, with his wife and the Kreisgerichtsrath, sat on the Fuchs-spitze. The sun was inclining to its rest, and cast glowing lights into the waves. Yet it was still so hot that the Regierungsrath laid his straw hat beside him upon the bench, and continually made movements betokening such craving for freedom, as though he would jump out of his cravat, and occasionally even out of his skin.
"To-day there were eighty degrees of heat in the shade," said the Kreisgerichtsrath, as he wiped away the drops of perspiration.
"Thirty degrees, I say thirty degrees," retorted Kalzow, irritatedly.
"Eight-and-twenty degrees Réaumur," said the Kreisgerichtsrath, with quiet decision.
"Réaumur! Of course, Réaumur. What have we to do with Fahrenheit or Celsius?"
"The astronomists measure by Celsius."
"I am no star-gazer, and decline any such inuendoes," said Kalzow, while coughing annoyedly. "Unfortunately, people have enough to do to watch their own feet, so that they may not stumble upon earth."