Philippina stood before the door, and listened to what they were saying. She had caught a rat, killed it, and laid the cadaver in the door. The next morning, as Eleanore was going into the kitchen, she saw the dead rat, screamed, and went back to her room trembling with fright. Daniel stroked her hair, and said: “Don’t worry, Eleanore. Rats belong to married life just as truly as salty soup, broken dishes, and holes in the stockings.” “Now listen, Daniel, is that meant as a reproach?” she asked. “No, my dear, it is not a reproach; it is merely a picture of the world. You have the soul of a princess; you know nothing about rats. Look at those black, staring, pearly eyes: they remind me of Jason Philip Schimmelweis and Alfons Diruf and Alexander Dörmaul; they remind me of the reserved table, the _Kaffeeklatsch_, smelly feet, evenings at the club, and everything else that is unappetising, vulgar, and base. Don’t look at me in such astonishment, Eleanore, I have just had an ugly dream; that is all. I dreamt that a miserable-looking wretch came up to me and kept asking me what your name is, and I couldn’t tell him. Just think of it: I could not recall your name. It was terribly annoying. Farewell, farewell.” He had put on his hat and left. He ran out in the direction of Feucht, and stayed the entire day in the open fields without taking a single bit of nourishment except a piece of black bread and a glass of milk. But when he returned in the evening his pockets were bulging with notes he had jotted down while out there by himself. He came back by way of the Castle, and knocked at Eberhard’s door. Since there was no one at home, he sauntered around for a while along the old rampart, and then returned about nine o’clock. But the windows were still dark. He had not seen Eberhard for two months. He could still recall the Baron’s depression and worry the last time he had talked with him—it was toward the end of March: he had spoken very little at that time and had gazed into space with remarkably lifeless eyes. He gave the impression of a man who is on the point of doing something quite out of the ordinary if not distinctly terrible. Daniel did not become aware of this until now; the Baron’s troubles, whatever they were, had not occurred to him during the past weeks; he was sorry for having neglected him so. XVII When he came home Eleanore was suffering from premature birth pains. Philippina greeted him with the words: “There is going to be an increase in the family, Daniel.” Whereat she burst out in a coarse laugh. “Shut up, you beast,” cried Daniel: “How long has she been suffering? Why didn’t you get the nurse?” “Can I leave the child here alone? Don’t growl so!” replied Philippina angrily. She went out for the nurse. In a half an hour she came back with her: it was Frau Hadebusch.