a tutor's profession presented itself to Eric's mind.
He lived the past over again. In his garrison, when off duty, he had
lived quietly by himself; at the parental home he was allowed to
indulge in his own fancies, his mother having been habituated by his
father to the belief that she ought to wait quietly to be spoken to,
inasmuch as learned men ought not to be disturbed in their reflections;
and Eric had been treated in the same way: he was never disturbed, and
was left entirely to his own thoughts. Now, however, at table, or while
out driving, he had to answer the numerous queries of both pupil and
father, who were fond of asking questions, and having intricate ones
solved for them. For a long, long time, he had been accustomed to an
independent life, devoted to his own mental improvement; now, however,
it seemed to him as if, together with his state of servitude, he were
losing himself, as if he were but the shadow of his former past, and
nothing new nor fresh was stirring in him, while all his former
thoughts and feelings appeared to require a forcible awakening. Eric
mourned over his mental decline. Formerly he had hardly dared to
confess to himself, that he had derived new animation and pleasure from
being near Bella--and that was to cease henceforth. What then remained
for him?

He stood aghast at perceiving, that the whole sanctity of his inner
self had been staked on another being, and a new revelation came to
him, which made Sonnenkamp's dissatisfaction, as well as that of his
pupil, appear as a just penalty. He redoubled his zeal, but in vain.

An event, seemingly trifling, and of a surprising nature, brought the
disturbing elements to a crisis. Sonnenkamp paid Eric the first
instalment of his salary in Roland's presence, looking all the while
triumphantly at his son. Eric trembled, but quickly recovered his
self-control. He took the gold and advanced a step or two towards the
window at which Roland was standing. Sonnenkamp supposed, for a moment,
that he was going to throw the gold out of the window, but Eric said,
in a tone of forced composure:--

"Roland, take my pay and carry the money to my room. There you may wait
for me."

Roland took the gold, looking confusedly at his father and Eric.

"Do me the favor of carrying that gold to my room," repeated Eric. "And
now go." Roland went. He carried the money as if it were a heavy
burden, and repaired to Eric's room, where he deposited it on the
table.