Philip laughed to himself as he shut up the letter.
“I think I do understand it,” said he; “but”—and he cast a glance at the clock—“if they do not come soon, all my beautiful arrangements may go to the devil.”
He was about to rise impatiently, when the doorbell rang. He immediately seized some papers which he had laid ready on purpose, took up his pen, and was deeply engrossed in writing when the servant announced Count Golm and Councillor Schieler.
“Beg the gentlemen to come in,” said Philip over his shoulder, bending again over the paper and scribbling away.
The servant had already opened the door for the two gentlemen. Philip threw down his pen, rose hastily, and passing his hand over his forehead, said:
“I beg you a thousand pardons! I had hoped to finish the thing—the report, you know, Herr Schieler. Count Golm, I consider myself happy.”
“We disturb you, my dear fellow,” said the Councillor; “but I have been saying so much about your beautiful gallery to Count Golm, and he is here for such a short time—”
“But quite long enough to be able to return at a more convenient hour,” said the Count.
“I would not let you go on any account,” exclaimed Philip; “there is no such hurry about this business.”
“But we are keeping you from something else.”
“From nothing more interesting or agreeable, Count Golm. I give you my word, I happened to have nothing for tonight—positively nothing. I think, anyway, I should have stayed at home.”
The Councillor shook his finger at him.
“Upon my honour, Herr Schieler.” Philip rang the bell. “Light the lamps in the drawing-room and in the dining-room. And Count Golm, Councillor Schieler, will you do me the honour to join me in my bachelor supper? Now, that is most kind of you; so put three places, Johann.”
“No ceremony, I beg!” said the Count.
“None, I assure you. May I show you the way?”
The servants had opened the folding-doors into the drawing-room.
“You seem to have some beautiful things here,” said the Count, standing and looking round the exquisite little study.
“A few trifles, Count Golm, such as a man likes to have round him.”
“But that is a Vautier,” said the Count, stopping before a picture. “Do you call that a trifle?”
“Only from its size. I have a larger picture of his in the next room. And this little Scheurenberg ought to please you; at least, it is very much praised by connoisseurs.”
“Charming—quite charming!” said the Count. “And this exquisite watercolour—Passini, of course?”
“The office of showman is easy with Count Golm,” said Philip to the Councillor.
“It runs a little in my family,” said the Count. “My great-grandfather was a celebrated collector, also my father. You must some day come and see my small gallery at Golm.”
“I only wish that you would give me an opportunity!”
“Is an invitation opportunity enough?”
Philip bowed. “I shall not fail, Count Golm.”
“This autumn, I hope? Do you shoot?”
“Oh yes!”
“Then you will not lack amusement when you come to Golm.”
“That I am certain of, in the company of the possessor of Golm.”
The Count bowed. Philip turned to the servants who at that moment entered the room.
“How provoking! They have just let in a man who wants to see me for a few minutes on important business.”
“I can only repeat my request,” said the Count.
“And I protest again against your kind consideration, which is really quite unnecessary. I shall only be a minute.”
Philip led the two gentlemen to the drawing-room, and shut the doors after him.
“Pleasant sort of fellow, this Herr Schmidt,” said the Count.
“Is not he?” answered the Councillor. “This time your prejudices were at fault.”
“It is not a prejudice. I made the acquaintance of a man of that name a few days ago—even had to entertain him at my own table—who was most objectionable to me.”
The Councillor had heard from his friend the General an account of the circumstance, which had taken place at Golmberg, before he met the Count, and knew well enough whom the Count honoured with his dislike, and also in what relationship Reinhold stood to Philip. But why tell the Count that, and spoil his good humour? The Count cast a glance of astonishment through the splendid room, whose almost overcrowded pictures and magnificent furniture glittered in the light of chandelier and candelabra.
“But this is princely,” said he.
“And still it is only a faint shadow of the splendour that the man has decked his new house in the Wilhelmstrasse with. It is all ready, except a few details; but will not, I think, be open before next spring. He must show it to you; you would delight in it.”
“I don’t know,” answered the Count; “this luxury has something overpowering in the eyes of one of us.”
“On the contrary, I should say something encouraging,” said the Councillor. “When people with no name, or rather with such a name! without connections, without help from home—Herr Schmidt is by trade only a builder—bring matters to such a result, what is there in the world unattainable to such men as you who
