Reimers agreed with pleasure. There seemed nothing but good fortune for him that day. Apparently all his wishes were to be fulfilled. Would it not perhaps be best to propose at once for the hand of Mariechen? Was not this just the right moment, after receiving such a conspicuous proof of Falkenhein's esteem and goodwill? But finally a piece of pure punctilio prevented him from carrying out his intentions. It was not at all correct to make a proposal of marriage at the time of receiving an official notification. At luncheon that day it was continually, "Your health, Reimers!" "Good luck to you, Reimers!" or the orderly would be at his elbow with a message: "Captain Blank, or Lieutenant So-and-so, would like to drink a glass of wine with you, sir." And Reimers pledged his friends gaily across the table. He had invited Güntz and little Dr. von Fröben to a bottle of champagne, and grew more reckless as time went on. When lights were brought for the cigars Güntz said to him: "You're a bit screwed, my boy. You'd better go and sleep it off." But Reimers had become exceedingly jovial. "Oh, it's nothing at all!" he declared. "I'm going for my ride now It was postponed on account of the announcements to-day." "That'll do nicely, my son," said Güntz; "that will put you right again." And he looked on smiling as the new senior-lieutenant swung himself into the saddle. The first attempt miscarried, and even the successful one was accomplished with difficulty; but the rider sat firmly enough in his seat when he got there and Dorothy had no tricks. Güntz waved merrily to his friend as he turned off into the forest. The mare's hoofs sank deep into the soft sand; she soon allowed herself to fall into a lazy pace, and Reimers did not press her. Dorothy stretched out her neck and drew the bridle through her rider's fingers; he let it hang loose. Reimers now became aware for the first time that the glasses and half-glasses in which he had answered his friends' congratulations must have amounted to a considerable number. If he tried to concentrate his thoughts on any particular subject, they slipped away from him in the most perverse manner. He reflected vaguely that this was the kind of mood in which he had of old committed all manner of pleasant follies and youthful indiscretions. And why not? Was he not young, and a free man? How delightful was this solitude after the noise and smoke of the mess-room! It was now about six o'clock, and a heavenly June evening. The sun was still high, but the heat was no longer oppressive; the air felt soft and caressing. The dense forest on either hand was wrapped in stillness; no sound penetrated between the slender stems of the trees; the horse's tread in the soft sand made only a slight swishing noise.