As he formerly often went to Albano merely to walk up and down, without a loud word,--because he said, "By this I recognize my friend, that he does not undertake to entertain me or himself, but will merely sit there,"--so now he came still more mute, often touched tenderly, like a playful child, the shoulder of Albano as he sat reading, and said, when the latter looked behind him, "Nothing!" Meanwhile, Albano inquired not about the change; for he knew he would surely unveil it to him in good time. Their hearts stood over against each other like open mirrors. So lay the dark wood of life before Albano, with its paths running through each other and deep into the thicket, as he stood upon the cross-way of his future and waited for his genius, who, either as a hostile or as a good one, was to bring him Liana's decision. At last there came from the gloomy wood a genius, but it was the dark genius, and gave him this note from the Princess:-- "Dear Count: I am always true, and would rather be unsparing than _un_true. The sick Mademoiselle v. F. is no longer in a condition to make a tour or profit by it. I take a lively interest in the case. However fondly I could wish to-day myself to speak consolation to you, I hope, nevertheless, after this intelligence, not to have occasion to do so. "Your Friend." What a dark cloud-break out of the morning redness of youth! So then the secret joy which he had hitherto nourished had been the forerunner of the dreadful blow,[43] the soft murmuring before the waterfall.[44] That his very love was to be the blazing sword which pierced through her life: O, he dwelt upon that so constantly; _that_ pained him so! But there was no moisture in his eye; the wormwood of conscience embitters even sorrow. When man is no longer his own friend, then he goes to his brother, who is a friend still, in order that _he_ may softly speak to him and restore his heart and soul; Albano went to his Schoppe. He found not him, but something else. Schoppe, namely, kept a diary about "himself and the world," wherein his friend might read whatever and whenever he wished; only he must pardon it, if he carried away with him from the reading, since it was written throughout just as if no one were to see it again,--angry slaps of the fan, and that, too, with the hard end. "Why should I spare thee any more than myself?" said Schoppe. To this _thou_ they had come without being able to say when, chary as they generally were of this official style of the heart, this holiest dual of souls toward others; "for I thank God," said Schoppe, "that I live in a language in which I can sometimes say you, yes even (if men and monkeys are subjects for it) between every two commas, your Well-born, as well as your High-born, or Otherwise-born."