Ernestine shrugged her shoulders. "None of my writings effect much good. But they are not meant to be anything more than a few of the many drops of water that must one day wear away the stone that dams the course of the pure waters of reason."
"We will not discuss such abstract subjects," said the Staatsräthin evasively. "I would rather persuade you to stay with us to-day."
"If I only thought that I should not be a burden to you!"
"You certainly will not be to me, and you will give my son a pleasure far greater than the annoyance to which your absence may subject your guardian. But you are the best judge of what you ought to do."
Ernestine laid her hand upon the Staatsräthin's. "I will stay!"
"There,--that's right! Johannes would never have forgiven me if I had failed to persuade you to stay." She rang the bell. Regina appeared, and carried away the coffee-tray.
"You may bring me the beans, I will prepare them," said the Staatsräthin. Regina brought in the beans in a dish, with a bowl for the stalks.
"I'm sure you will excuse me," said the Staatsräthin to Ernestine, and she seated herself by the window, knife in hand, ready to begin her task.
Ernestine looked on in astonishment. "Do you do that yourself?"
"Why not? The cook has a great deal to do to-day, and I am glad to assist her."