Family feuds and gypsies were all forgotten. Ilse took the book from her brother's hand, Mrs. Rollmaus stood up in order to read the remarkable passage over Ilse's shoulder, all the children's heads gathered round the book, so that they looked like a cluster of buds on a fruit tree, and all peeped curiously at the lines which were so glorious for their guest and themselves. In the article there were the usual short remarks that are generally made of living scholars, which contained the place and day of the Professor's birth, and the titles--mostly in Latin--of his works. All these titles were, in spite of the unintelligible language, read aloud, with the dates and size of the volumes. Ilse looked into the book for a long time, and then handed it to the astonished Mrs. Rollmaus, then the children passed it from one to the other. The event made a greater impression here, on both young and old, than it ever could in literary circles. Happiest of all was Mrs. Rollmaus: she had sat next to a man who not only could refer to books, but was referred to himself. Her admiration of him was unbounded; she found, for the first time in her life, that she could hold agreeable intercourse with a man of this stamp. "What a distinguished scholar!" she exclaimed. "What were the titles of his works, dear Ilse?" Ilse did not know; her eyes and thoughts were fixed on the short notice of his life. This discovery had the good result of causing Mrs. Rollmaus to lay down her weapons entirely this day, and be content not to display any knowledge, for she saw that on this occasion a competition with the family was impossible, and she condescended to an unpretending conversation about household events. But the children arranged themselves at a respectful distance from the Professor, and examined him curiously once more from top to toe; and Hans imparted the news in a low voice to the Doctor, and was much surprised that the latter thought nothing of it.