Courts and courtiers -- Fiction; German fiction -- Translations into English; Germany -- Fiction
"You must have wet compresses," said Mr. Spoelmann. "Have you any
oil-silk?" Klaus Heinrich had none. Then Mr. Spoelmann threw off the
parrot coverlet, stood up, and went inside the Schloss. He would not
answer any questions, insisted on going, and went. When he had gone, the
others asked each other what he intended to do, and Doctor Watercloose,
fearing lest an attack of pain had seized his patient, hurried after
him. But when Mr. Spoelmann returned he had in his hand a piece of
oil-silk, whose existence in some drawer he had remembered: a rather
creased piece, which he handed to the Prince with precise directions how
to use it, so as to get the most good out of it. Klaus Heinrich thanked
him delightedly, and Mr. Spoelmann got contentedly back on to his couch.
This time he stayed there till the end of tea, when he proposed a
general walk round the park, in the following order: Mr. Spoelmann in
his soft slippers between Imma and Klaus Heinrich, while Countess
Löwenjoul followed at a short distance with Dr. Watercloose.
When the Prince took leave for the day, Imma Spoelmann made some sharp
remark about his neck and the wet compresses, adjured him half-mockingly
to nurse himself and to take the utmost care of his sacred person. But
although Klaus Heinrich had no adequate repartee ready for her--she did
not expect or want one--yet it was in a fairly cheerful frame of mind
that he mounted his dog-cart; for the piece of creased oil-silk in the
back pocket of his uniform coat seemed to him, though unconsciously, a
pledge of a happy future.
However that might be, for the present his struggle was only beginning.
It was the struggle for Imma Spoelmann's faith, the struggle to make her
so far trust him as to be capable of deciding to leave the clear and
frosty sphere wherein she had been wont to play, to descend from the
realms of algebra and conversational ridicule, and to venture with him
into the untrodden zone, that warmer, more fragrant, more fruitful zone
to which he showed her the way. For she was overpoweringly shy of making
any such decision.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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