"True, but they tell me you have a sprained arm. I have three excellent remedies for sprains, one, which is perfect, came from my old friend Goethe, one from another old friend, Madame Schröder, and the third from Baron von Humboldt. You see the origin of all three is unimpeachable." Turning to Karl, who, bowing, brought forward an armchair for her, she said: "You, Herr von Freyberg, have evidently no sprains, for you are in hunting costume. Ah! you do not know how your Styrian dress recalls a happy memory of my youth. The first time I saw my husband, Herr von Beling it is now something like fifty-two years ago, for it was in 1814--at a carnival masked ball, he wore a similar costume to the one you are now wearing. He was about your age. In the middle of the ball--I remember as if it were yesterday--we heard of the landing of that accursed Napoleon. The dancers vowed that if he again ascended the throne they would go to fight him. The ladies each chose a cavalier, who should be entitled to wear her colours in the coming campaign. I did like the rest, and I chose Herr von Beling, although in my heart of hearts--for I have remained French in heart--I could not be very angry with the man who had made France so great. "This fanciful nomination of Herr von Beling as a champion wearing my colours opened my parents' house to him. He could not, he said, be my knight without their permission. They gave their permission. Napoleon again became emperor. Herr von Beling rejoined his regiment, but he first asked my hand from my mother. My mother consulted me, I loved him. It was agreed that we should marry when the war was over. The campaign was not long, and when Herr von Beling returned we were married; I, at the bottom of my heart feeling a little vexed that he had contributed the three hundred millionth part towards the dethronement of my hero. But I never confessed this small infidelity of enthusiasm, and our life was no less happy on that account." "Dear grandmamma," enquired Frederic, "did Herr von Beling--he must have been very handsome in Styrian garb, I have seen his portrait--did Herr von Beling kneel before you when he asked the favour of being your knight?" "Certainly, and very gracefully he did it too," returned the old lady. "Did he do it better than my friend Karl?" "Better than your friend Karl? But is your friend Karl likely to kneel before me by any chance?" "Just look at him." Madame von Beling turned round and saw indeed Karl kneeling on the ground before her. "Good gracious!" said she laughing, "have I suddenly grown fifty years younger?" "My dear grandmother," said Frederic, while Karl took possession of the old lady's hand. "No, you have still your threescore and ten years, which become you so well that I will not let you off a single one of them; but here is Karl, who also is going to the war, and who asks to be called the knight of your granddaughter Helen."