"You are a true physician for body and soul," said the baroness, while the minister, after the baron's refusal, wrapped up his phial again in a newspaper and put it in his pocket. "Yes, yes, _mens sana in corpore sano_, a sound, that is, a pious body in a sound, pious soul--I learnt that as a boy at school and I now try to practise it as a man. But where are the dear boys? Still at school? Yes, Dr. Stein seems to be a very industrious, ambitious young man by whose instruction the two young gentlemen will soon make great progress, with help from on High." The reverend gentleman thought that by praising Oswald he would please the baron and even more the baroness. Oswald's calm, self-possessed manner had made a great impression on his cowardly soul; Primula Veris, whose opinions on men and things were gospel to him, had been singing for a week the praise of her new friend, who had paid her more compliments in an hour than she ordinarily received in a year; and this morning a lady of the neighborhood had called on Mrs. Jager to bring her a full report of the ball that had taken place the night before. This lady, who had grown-up daughters, but liked to be considered quite youthful yet, was delighted with Oswald, who had assured her solemnly that she might safely pass for the youngest of the daughters. She told Primula, who listened, all eagerness, what a sensation Oswald's skill in pistol-shooting had produced among the men; what an impression his fine figure and his good manners had made upon the ladies; how he had danced with Hortense, taken Frau von Berkow to table, and, in fine, how he had been the lion of the evening. The mere fact that Oswald had been invited to a party given to such an exclusive set of people was, in the eyes of the minister, who knew them well, a remarkable sign, full of deep meaning. And, in addition to all this, there was another circumstance which made the minister desire the favor and friendship of Doctor Stein. The holy man was not without ambition. He felt he was intended for better things than to preach the gospel to the boors of Fashwitz. He did not wish to have ruined his eyesight in vain in searching old manuscripts at Grunwald, nor to have published in vain a most learned dissertation on the long-forgotten fragments of a long-forgotten father of the Church. He was a doctor, and wanted to become a professor--professor in the same University town through whose streets he had crept fifteen years ago as a poor forlorn student of divinity.