"And pray why did you not tell me this last night?" "From the wish to spare you, and to let you pass the night in peace and quiet." "Spare me? You? A greater simpleton does not live! If you had told me all this last night, I might have contrived to put out of the way a vast deal of property, that would have stood us in good stead for years to come, but now the thing is impossible. Help! Help! Oh Heavens!" screamed the landlady, suddenly, in the midst of their calm conversation, sinking back into a chair, apparently fainting. The maids from the kitchen, and Gregor the postilion, rushed into the room. The Landlady started up and said, sobbing and turning to her husband:-- "You hid it from me, you never told me a word about it, or that you are now a bankrupt. All the shame, and all the disgrace rest on you; I am innocent, wretched creature that I am!" It would now have been the Landlord's turn to faint away, if his determined will had not supported him; his spectacles fell down from his forehead over his eyes of their own accord, to let him see plainly if what was passing here was really true: this woman, who had never rested till he, the experienced baker and brewer, went into partnership with her brother in a large concern for selling clocks, and when his brother-in-law died, almost forced him to continue the business alone, although he understood very little of such a traffic;--this woman, who had always urged him on to fresh speculations, and knew his involvements even better than he did himself;--this woman had now summoned the rabble as witnesses, in order to devolve the whole shame and blame on him. It was not till this minute that the Landlord of the Lion fully realized the extent of his misery; they had lived together thirty-five years, on looking back,--and on looking forwards, who knows how many more were to come?--and in order to save herself, and expose him to all the blame, his wife could carry her hypocrisy to such an extent as this. His spectacles were dimmed, so that he could no longer see through them; he first quietly wiped his glasses with his handkerchief, and then his eyes. At this moment he felt a degree of resentment and rancour that was never afterwards effaced; but the proud Landlady soon resumed her wonted calmness and composure. When the maids and the postilion had left the room, the Landlord said:-- "You know best why you have done this; I have no idea what good it can do, but I shall not say one word more on the subject." He persisted in this resolution and maintained entire silence, and let his wife lament and complain as she thought fit. It had always rather amused him to see how placid and amiable his wife affected to be in the world. He almost became now, in reality, the wise man he had hitherto been considered, for during all the violent speeches of his wife, he thought-- "It is marvellous what people can arrive at! practice makes perfection."