"Really? Have you?" he asked. And then went on nodding. Klaus Heinrich said: "You can't think how reluctant I was to go the other day to the inauguration of the Town Hall. And to-morrow I have to superintend the swearing-in of the Grenadier recruits. And then comes the Chapter of the Family Order. I don't feel a bit in the mood for that. I find no pleasure in doing my duty as the representative of my people. I've no inclination for my so-called lofty calling." "I'm sorry to hear it!" said Doctor Ueberbein sharply. "Yes, I might have known that you would be angry, Doctor Ueberbein. Of course you'll call it sloppiness, and will read me a sermon about 'destiny and discipline,' if I know you. But at the opera yesterday I thought of you at one point, and asked myself whether you really were so right in several particulars...." "Look here, Klaus Heinrich, once already, if I'm not mistaken, I've dragged your Royal Highness out of the mud, so to speak...." "That was quite different, Doctor Ueberbein! How I wish you could see that was absolutely different! That was at the Citizens' Ball, but it was years ago, and I don't feel a twinge in that direction. For she is ... Look you, you have often explained to me what you understand by 'Highness,' and that it is something affecting, and something to be approached with tender sympathy. Don't you think that she of whom we are speaking, that she is affecting and that one must feel sympathy with her?" "Perhaps," said Doctor Ueberbein. "Perhaps." "You often said that one must not disavow exceptions, that to do so was sloppiness and slovenly and good-nature. Don't you think that she too of whom we are speaking is an exception?" Doctor Ueberbein was silent. Then he said suddenly and decidedly, "And now I, if possible, am to help to make two exceptions into a rule?" Thereupon he went out. He said that he must get back to his work, emphasizing the word "work," and begged leave to withdraw. He took his departure in a strangely ceremonious and unfatherly way. Klaus Heinrich did not see him for ten or twelve days. He asked him to lunch once, but Doctor Ueberbein begged to be excused, his work at the moment was too pressing. At last he came spontaneously. He was in high spirits and looked greener than ever. He blustered about this and that, and at last came to the subject of the Spoelmanns, looking at the ceiling and pulling at his throat when he did so. To be quite fair, he said, there was a striking amount of sympathy felt with Samuel Spoelmann, one could see all over the town how much beloved he was. Chiefly of course as an object of taxation, but in other respects too. There was simply a penchant for him, in every class, for his organ-playing and his faded coat and his kidney-colic. Every errand boy was proud of him, and if he were not so unapproachable and morose he would already have been made to feel it.