Niebeldingk rang and John entered with a grand inquisitorial air. He recoiled when he saw the monster so comfortable and, for the first time in his service, permitted himself a gentle shake of the head. The old gentleman emptied his glass in one gulp and wiped his mouth with a brownish cotton handkerchief. Fragments of tobacco flew about. He looked so tenderly at the destroyer of his family as though he had a sneaking desire to join the enemy. "Well, well," he began again. "What's to be done? If my sister takes something into her head.... And anyhow, I'll tell you in confidence, she is a devil. Oh deary me, what I have to put up with from her! It's no good getting into trouble with her! ... If you want to avoid any unpleasantness, I can only advise you to consent right away.... You can back out later.... But that would be the easiest way." Niebeldingk laughed heartily. "Yes, you can laugh," the old gentleman said sadly, "that's because you don't know my sister." "But _you_ know her, my dear man. And do you suppose that she may have other, that is to say, financial aims, while she----" The old gentleman looked at him with great scared eyes. "How do you mean?" he said and crushed the brown handkerchief in his hollow hand. "Well, well, well," Niebeldingk quieted him and poured a reconciling second glass of wine. But he wasn't to be bribed. "Permit me, my dear sir," he said, "but you misunderstand me entirely.... Even if I do help my sister in the house, and even if I do go on errands, I would never have consented to go on such an one.... I said to my sister: It's marriage or nothing.... We don't go in for blackmail, of that you may be sure." "Well, my dear man," Niebeldingk laughed, "If that's the alternative, then--nothing!" The old gentleman grew quite peaceable again. "Goodness knows, you're quite right. But you will have unpleasantnesses, mark my word. ... And if she has to appeal to the Emperor, my sister said. And my sister--I mention it quite in confidence--my sister--" "Is a devil, I understand." "Exactly." He laughed slyly as one who is getting even with an old enemy and drank, with every evidence of delight, the second glassful of wine. Niebeldingk considered. Whether unfathomable stupidity or equally unfathomable sophistication lay at the bottom of all this--the business was a wretched one. It was just such an affair as would be dragged through every scandal mongering paper in the city, thoroughly equipped, of course, with the necessary moral decoration. He could almost see the heavy headlines: Rascality of a Nobleman. "Yes, yes, my dear fellow," he said, and patted the terrible enemy's shoulder, "I tell you it's a dog's life. If you can avoid it any way--never go in for fast living." The old gentleman shook his gray head sadly. "That's all over," he declared, "but twenty years ago--" Niebeldingk cut short the approaching confidences.