“We are in a groove,” he replied; “and it is necessary to make that groove as comfortable as possible.”
“Not only that,” he proceeded with a frankness which rather surprised me: “in the artificial life of a Court it is good to keep up the illusion. One must take one’s duties seriously; etiquette, forms and ceremonies are often in themselves ridiculous. If one allowed oneself to feel their absurdity one could never perform them properly. One’s surroundings must be in keeping with one’s life; it would be fatal to regard them from an outsider’s point of view.”
“You are rather a philosopher, mein Herr.”
“I am a countryman of Heine. A philosopher I hope first, and an official afterwards.”
“Certainly. I congratulate you. How few of us can say we accept our lot in the same spirit!”
There was a knock at the door. A servant in quaint livery entered and made two prodigious bows before delivering his message, which was to the effect that the King desired the Oberkammerer’s presence.
“I attend His Majesty immediately.”
The man bowed twice again almost to the ground and departed.
In a moment my host had resumed his professional manner of a mediæval master of the ceremonies. His apologies were unbounded. It was most unfortunate; the King did not require his attendance at this hour once in six months. That it should have happened on this of all nights was deplorable.
“It is a matter of duty,” I said, holding out my hand, “no apology can be needed. I shall hope to have the pleasure of paying you another visit and of resuming our interesting conversation.”