oudoir, where he hoped to find Loulou alone. But he was
painfully surprised. Herr von Pechlar sat there, and appeared to be in
the middle of a conversation with Loulou. She smiled at Wilhelm, and
beckoned to him to come and sit near her, without embarrassment.
Wilhelm stayed a moment at the door irresolute, then he went forward,
and bowing to her without looking at the hussar, said earnestly: "I
came in the hope of speaking to you alone, gnadiges Fraulein. Perhaps I
may be so fortunate another time."

At these unexpected words Loulou opened her eyes wide. Herr von
Pechlar, however, who since Wilhelm's arrival had been tugging angrily
at his red mustache, could contain himself no longer, and said in a
harsh voice, which trembled with passion:

"That is the coolest thing I have ever heard. May I ask first of all
why you cut me on entering the room?"

"I only recognize people whom I esteem," said Wilhelm over his shoulder.

"You are a fool," flashed back Pechlar's answer.

Perfectly master of himself, Wilhelm said to Loulou, "I am extremely
sorry that I have been the cause of an outbreak of bad manners in your
presence," then he bowed and left the room, while Loulou sat there
motionless, and Herr von Pechlar gave him a scornful laugh.

With all his retirement from the world, and his indifference to the
usages of society, Wilhelm felt nevertheless a sharp stab of pain, as
if he had been struck across the face with a whip. As he walked down
the Koniggratzer Strasse it seemed to him as if a bright, fiery wound
burned on his face, and the passers-by were staring at this sign of
insult. His powerful imagination formed pictures unceasingly of violent
deeds of revenge. He saw himself standing with a smoking pistol
opposite the offender, who fell to the ground with a wound in his
forehead; or he fought with him, and after a long struggle he suddenly
pierced the hussar through the breast with his sword. By degrees his
blood cooled, and with all the strength of his will he fought against
the feelings which he knew formed the brute element in man, and which
with his philosophy he believed he had tamed, and he said to himself,
"No, no fighting. What good would it do? I should either kill him, or
be killed myself. His insulting words really do me no more harm than
the yelping of this little dog who is running past me. I will not let a
remnant of prejudice be stronger than my judgment."

Although he had come to this resolution, h