Hildegarde, on the contrary, found her brother, whom she had not seen for some time, more intolerable than ever. He was amazingly proud and conceited--the typical young officer who has nothing, is nothing, and yet solely on the strength of his uniform imagines himself to be a superior being. His appearance was as affected as his behaviour; the waxed moustache standing out proudly, the eyeglass which he never for a moment removed from his eye, and his up-to-date civilian's dress. He was really rather nice-looking, his figure was slim and elegant, and he had a fresh, open countenance, though somewhat unintelligent and expressionless, and he wore an affected air of boredom. Of course he talked of nothing but his horses, his duties, his comrades, and this bored Hildegarde so that she got up on the pretext of going to rest a little. Her mother also rose after she had arranged with her daughter to pay some visits in the afternoon. As soon as father and son were alone together it was: "What do you say if we were to drink another bottle of wine?" "I'm quite agreeable." The wine was brought, and for a short time they continued their former conversation, then they spoke of Hildegarde. "Really, how handsome the girl still is!" said Fritz. "And do you think that this time it will come off?" To-day the major saw everything in roseate hues. "Yes, most certainly. Hildegarde has two on the cards; one in any case will come up to the scratch." Fritz groaned aloud. "God grant it!" "Yes, Heaven help us!" assented his father, then he went on: "Well, now, as we clearly see deliverance before us, you need no longer keep any secrets from me, especially as you know quite well that I cannot pay your debts. I told you that directly you became an officer. I said to you then: 'Have as many debts as you like, but look to yourself for paying them.' Now confess, how much do you owe?" Fritz was for a moment embarrassed. "Do you really want to know?" "Why not? As I am not going to pay them you may be quite sure I shall not reproach you." Fritz bit another cigar. "Taking it all in all, from first to last, it must be about forty thousand marks." "And how long have you been a lieutenant?" "Seven years." "Then that would be at the rate of about six thousand a year; it can't be called a small amount." Fritz shrugged his shoulders. "What is one to do? The life of an officer is expensive, and then one is not born into the world simply to perform one's military duties. One cannot manage on the allowance you give me." "Another perhaps might--you cannot."