"I thank you!" said Ernestine. "You are kinder to me than any one ever was before. I have many flowers in my garden, but none, I think, so lovely as these. They are the first flowers I ever had given to me. I know now how pleasant it is." "Did your uncle never give you a bouquet upon your birthday?" asked the Staatsräthin. "Oh, no! And I do not think it would have delighted me so from him!" said Ernestine, with artless ease. Johannes's face beamed at these words. "When is your birthday, Ernestine?" he asked, while the Staatsräthin led her to the breakfast-table. Ernestine set down the cup that she was just about putting to her lips, and looked at him in amazement "I do not know!" "You do not know!" cried Johannes. "I will ask my uncle,--he told me once, but I have forgotten." The Staatsräthin clasped her hands. "Forgotten your own birthday? Is it possible? Was it never celebrated?" "Celebrated?" repeated Ernestine in surprise. "No, why should it have been celebrated?" "What! do you know nothing of this affectionate custom?" Ernestine shook her head almost mournfully. "I know of no loving customs." The Staatsräthin looked at her with compassion. "Then you hardly know how old you are?" "Not exactly; but my father died when I was twelve years old,--shortly before his death he reproached me for being so little and weak for twelve years old,--and since then ten summers have passed away." "Poor child!" said the Staatsräthin. "I begin to understand!" "I thought you would, mother," said Johannes from the other side of the table. "Your uncle has deprived you of many of the pleasures of life," continued the Staatsräthin. "Such pleasures, perhaps. But I must not be ungrateful,--he has given me others no less fair and great!" "And what were they?" "He has taught me to think and to study. There can be no greater or purer pleasures than these." Again the Staatsräthin's brow was overcast. Johannes saw it, and broke off the conversation. "Ernestine, it is not good for you to drink your coffee black. It excites your nerves." "On the contrary, my uncle bids me always take it so, to stimulate me,--without it, I often could not begin my day's work." "That accords entirely with your uncle's system of education. First he utterly prostrates you by wakefulness and study at night, and then stimulates you by artificial means. Why, you yourself can understand that such a life of alternate prostration and over-excitement must wear you out. I really do not know what to think of your uncle in this respect." Ernestine looked down, evidently impressed by the truth of Johannes's words. "But tell me, Johannes," said the Staatsräthin, "why do you address Fräulein Ernestine by her first name, when she does not authorize you to do so by returning the familiarity?" "She asks me to do so." "Oh, yes, I begged your son to call me Ernestine,--it makes me feel like a child again, and as if I could begin my life anew!"