"And he is the man," thought George grimly, "who dubbed me a dilettante." Willy came up to him. "Now you just say, Herr Hofrat, that you can manage to whistle them, and if I know anything about physiognomy the Baron will send two gentlemen to see you in the morning." "Oh no," said George, pulling himself together and smiling; "fortunately, the songs were written in a period which I have long since got over, so I don't feel wounded by any blame or by any praise." A servant brought in ices, the groups broke up and Anna stood alone with George by the pianoforte. He asked her quickly "What does it really mean?" "I don't know," she replied, and looked at him in astonishment. "Do you feel quite all right now?" "Absolutely," she answered. "And is to-day the first time you have had anything like it?" asked George, somewhat hesitatingly. She answered: "I had something like it yesterday evening at home. It was a kind of faintness. It lasted some time longer, while we were sitting at supper, but nobody noticed it." "But why did you tell me nothing about it?" She shrugged her shoulders lightly. "I say, Anna dear," he said, and smiled guiltily, "I would like to have a word with you at any rate. Give me a signal when you want to go away. I will clear out a few minutes before you, and will wait by the Schwarzenbergplatz till you come along in a fly. I'll get in and we will go for a little drive. Does that suit you?" She nodded. He said: "Good-bye, darling," and went into the smoking-room. Old Ehrenberg, Nürnberger and Wilt had sat down at a green card-table to play tarok. Old Eissler and his son were sitting opposite each other in two enormous green leather arm-chairs and were utilising the opportunity to have a good chat with one another after all this time. George took a cigarette out of a box, lighted it and looked at the pictures on the wall with particular interest. He saw Willy's name written in pale red letters down below in the corner on the green field in a water-colour painted in the grotesque style, that represented a hurdle race ridden by gentlemen in red hunting-coats. He turned involuntarily to the young man and said: "I never knew that one before." "It is fairly new," remarked Willy lightly. "Smart picture, eh?" said old Eissler. "Oh, something more than that," replied George. "Yes, I hope to be able to look forward to doing something better than that," said Willy. "He is going to Africa, lion hunting," explained old Eissler, "with Prince Wangenheim. Felician is also supposed to be of the party, but he has not yet decided." "Why not?" asked Willy. "He wants to pass his diplomatic examination in the spring." "But that could be put off," said Willy; "lions are dying out, but unfortunately one can't say the same thing of professors." "Book me for a picture, Willy," called out Ehrenberg from the card-table. "You play the Mæcenas later on, father Ehrenberg?" said Willy. "As I've said, I'll take you two on."[1]