“No, Albrecht, I don't think so. I don't think I run any such danger.”
“Then we shall understand each other all the better. I have no penchant for strong expressions as a rule. But popularity is hog-wash.”
“It's funny, Albrecht. Funny that you should use that word. The ‘Pheasants’ were always using it—my schoolmates, the young sprigs, you know, at the ‘Pheasantry.’ I know what you are. You're an aristocrat, that's what's the matter.”
“Do you think so? You're wrong. I'm no aristocrat, I'm the opposite, by taste and reason. You must allow that I do not despise the ‘Hi's’ of the crowd from arrogance, but from a propensity to humanity and goodness. Human Highness is a pitiable thing, and I'm convinced that mankind ought to see that everyone behaves like a man, and a good man, to his neighbour and does not humiliate him or cause him shame. A man must have a thick skin to be able to carry off all the flummery of Highness without any feeling of shame. I am naturally rather sensitive, I cannot cope with the absurdity of my situation. Every lackey who plants himself at the door, and expects me to pass him without noticing, without heeding him more than the door posts, fills me with embarrassment, that's the way I feel towards the people….”
“Yes, Albrecht, quite true. It's often by no means easy to keep one's countenance when one passes by a fellow like that. The lackeys! If one only did not know what frauds they are! One hears fine stories about them….”
“What stories?”
“Oh, one keeps one's ears open….”
“Come, come!” said Ditlinde. “Don't let's worry about that. Here you are talking about ordinary things, and I had two topics noted down which I thought we might discuss this afternoon…. Would you be so kind, Klaus Heinrich, as to reach me that notebook there in blue leather on the writing-table? Many thanks. I note down in this everything I have to remember, both household matters and other things. What a blessing it is to be able to see everything down in black and white! My head is terribly weak, it can't remember things, and if I weren't tidy and didn't jot everything down, I should be done for. First of all, Albrecht, before I forget it, I wanted to remind you that you must escort Aunt Catherine at the first Court on November 1st—you can't get out of it. I withdraw; the honour fell to me at the last Court Ball, and Aunt Catherine was terribly put out…. Do you consent? Good, then I cross out item 1. Secondly, Klaus Heinrich, I wanted to ask you to make a short appearance at the Orphan Children's Bazaar on the 15th in the Town Hall. I am patroness, and I take my duties seriously, as you see. You needn't buy anything—a pocket comb…. In short, all you need do is to show yourself for ten minutes. It's for the orphans…. Will you come? You see, now I can cross another off. Thirdly …”
But the Princess was interrupted. Fräulein von Isenschnibbe, the Court lady, was announced and tripped in at once through the big drawing-room, her feather boa waving in the draught, and the brim of her huge feather hat flapping up and down. The smell of the fresh air from outside seemed to cling to her clothes. She was small, very fair, with a pointed nose, and so short-sighted that she could not see the stars. On clear evenings she would stand on her balcony and gaze at the starry heavens through opera-glasses, and rave about them. She wore two strong pairs of glasses, one behind the other, and screwed up her eyes and stuck her head forward as she curtseyed.
“Heavens, Grand Ducal Highness,” she said, “I didn't know; I'm disturbing you, I'm intruding. I most humbly beg pardon!”