Kurt was amply employed in consoling and encouraging her, and forecasting the golden time when they would be united for ever. Seriously he had no hopes of anything of the kind happening. It was not likely the proud clod of a squire would be so good-natured and accommodating as to lay his still half-baby youngest sister in Kurt's arms; and it would be derogatory for a man of his talent and prospects to take her without leave, and hamper himself with an unprofitable bride. He had difficulties enough to contend with without that. His old father (set up to it, probably) was beginning to cast a disapproving eye on his son's manner of life, and veiled allusions concerning "the lilies of the field," and "loaves and fishes," made him feel very uncomfortable. One day in the middle of October the bomb burst. Kurt, who had reposed till eleven in bed, feeling the necessity of a little light refreshment before the midday meal, went on a foraging expedition to the cupboard, the place where one would naturally expect to find a miscellaneous assortment of ham, pickled eels, cold roast veal, cold fried potatoes, and mashed turnips. He was interrupted in the business of choosing between these dainties by the old pastor, who laid a heavy hand on his shoulder, and asked whether he intended to make it his vocation for the rest of his life to eat up all the remains of the family meals. Kurt assumed the air of an offended prince. "A man must live," he replied loftily, "or do you wish to imply----" "Come to my study," broke in the old man. "Very well," said Kurt, wiping his mouth. "You are my father, so I must obey you." And he made a sign to show that he bowed to the paternal authority. "Come, now, we will speak in plain language, my boy," the old fellow began, sinking into his shabby, cushioned chair. "In all my days I have never come across such a cursed jackanapes as you are. You drink like a fish, swagger and bully like a sergeant-major--all very well, and most pleasing to me. But do you think that you can go on loafing _infinitum_?" Kurt controlled his resentment with difficulty. "I don't understand, father," he said, "how you can call it loafing. Periods of inactive development are as necessary to the mind as the winter-time of hibernating is to Nature. While I am to all appearances idle, I work incessantly at my individuality. I cultivate my manhood; my personality is maturing. That is worth more than any book learning." "Very well, my son," the old man replied. "Don't be discouraged. Keep up your calm impudence, and the rest will take care of itself. But, I tell you, for all that the world is a big place. Go and mature your personality somewhere else, and find another hunting-ground for your fads." "Certainly I would, with pleasure, papa," Kurt replied, "if I had the necessary funds."