"Indeed, she will relieve Kulmitten from its everlasting tedium," said Kuhl. "A splendid estate, but there in those woods one must become melancholy; a covey of wild ducks across the yawning lake alone brings animation into the lifeless scene. But will she like it?" "My dear friend, a young wife--" "Shall live entirely in her husband, I know. But besides that devout worship, she needs fresh air and sunshine, nor are we indeed gods. Concerts, theatres, all favourite resources she must dispense with there." "She will know how to adapt herself to it; domestic happiness--" "Now you are beginning to preach! You know desperately little of that happiness so far; a remedy whose efficacy you have not tried yourself, without hesitation you calmly prescribe for your wife." "You see everything in a gloomy light to-day." "I am not in rosy mood; I, too, have my little annoyances. You will be happy, I hope, but what may lie dormant in your wife, who can tell? They often change wonderfully after marriage. Every Pandora, however beautiful she is, has her box that is filled with evil, and only when she is married does she raise the cover." "Those are consoling reflections for a lover." "She is beautiful, really beautiful, but she has such enthusiastic eyes. There is something insatiable about all enthusiasm. She will, perhaps, love you, but she will demand of you that you shall have none other thought besides her; she will desire to be everything to you, house and court, state and church, society and philosophy, extract of all beauty and amiability that exists on earth. Quintescence of all intellectual advantages that are usually divided amongst various talents, she will be jealous of the book that you read, of the woman to whom you speak, of the friend to whom you pour out your heart; for anything that I know, even of me. _Dixi et animam salvi_," said the inexorable Doctor, as he pressed his felt hat farther over his brow. At that moment, Wegen came up breathlessly, a packet of letters under his arm. Kuhl responded coldly and glumly to his friendly greeting. "All goes well," cried Blanden's factotum, that cheery friend, whose cheeks sea air and zeal had combined to redden. "Müller von Stallupönen is getting a first-rate orchestra together; this evening a grand rehearsal. The mixed chorus is formed; I, too, sing in it. We shall only have a couple of light, lively songs; there is not time enough to bring up the heavy guns; it would take too much trouble. Some of the male singers have no ears, some of the female ones no voices, and Müller, as conductor, will be able to wield his ivory _bâton_, with its silver mounting, just as well. Müller is a good leader, but very rude. People's position is nothing to him; he treats ladies of the greatest importance as a policeman would women who were obstructing the way. If we had to learn a difficult vocal piece, there would be more actions for damages than notes. But I must away, my good friend."