"Are you going already?" said the Philosopher to Ilse; "this cannot be counted as a visit. You please me much, and you have true eyes; and I see that you have a kind disposition, and that is everything. All we want is, in the face a good mirror through which the images of life are reflected fully and purely, and in the heart an enduring flame which will communicate its warmth to others. Whoever has that will do well, even if it is her fate to be the wife as you are, of a sedentary student, and as is this poor mother of five screaming young ones." Again he strode rapidly about, fetched an old hat from the corner and handed it to the wife of his colleague. Ilse laughed. "Oh, I see. It is a gentleman's hat," said Professor Raschke; "perhaps it belongs to your husband." "I also am provided with one," said the Professor. "Then it must be my own after all," said Raschke; and jamming the hat on his head, he accompanied his guests to the carriage. For some time Ilse sat in the carriage dumb with astonishment. "Now I have regained my courage, Felix; the professors are still less alarming than the students." "All will not receive you so warmly," answered the Professor. "He who comes next is my colleague Struvelius; he teaches Greek and Latin, as I do; he is not one of my intimate acquaintances, but is a thorough scholar." This time it was a house in the city; the apartments were a little more ancient than in Ilse's new dwelling. This professor's wife wore a black silk dress, and was sitting before a writing-table covered with books and papers; a delicate lady, of middle age, with a small but clever face and an extraordinary coiffure; for her short hair was combed behind her ears in one large roll of curl, which gave her a certain resemblance to Sappho or Corinne, so far as a comparison is allowable with ladies of antiquity, the growth of whose hair is by no means satisfactorily ascertained. Mrs. Struvelius arose slowly and greeted the visitors with haughty demeanor; she expressed her pleasure to Ilse and then turned to the Professor. "I have to-day commenced reading the work of colleague Raschke and I admire the deep thought of the man." "His writings are delightful," replied the Professor, "because in all of them we discover a thorough and pure-minded man." "I agree with your premise and consequent conclusion in this particular instance, but with regard to the general proposition you assert, allow me to say that many works that form an epoch in literature would have no great excellence, if it were necessary to be a perfect man in order to write a good book." Ilse looked timidly at the learned lady who had ventured to oppose her husband.