n a while, she would stand still before the large mirror,
and make a courtesy before some imaginary personage. The courtesy was
very successful; she would lay her left hand upon her heart, her right
hanging down naturally, and bend very low. On both sides of the mirror
four branched candlesticks stood lighted, and once in a while Frau
Ceres would put her hand to her brow.

"He has promised me a five-pointed coronet; it will become me, will it
not?"

With an exceedingly gracious smile she bowed once more before the
mirror.

Fraeulein Perini heard outside the arrival of the Professorin; she went
to meet her, and begged her to be very forbearing and circumspect with
the much agitated Frau Ceres, and not call her anything but Frau
Baroness.

"Why did you send me word that she was ill, and call me out in the
middle of the night on that account?"

"I beg your pardon; you know that there are sick people who do not go
to bed."

The Professorin understood how matters were.

When she entered, Frau Ceres, with her face still turned to the mirror,
exclaimed:--

"Ah, that's good! It was gracious in you to come, my dear Professorin,
very friendly--very kind. I am a good friend of yours, too."

She then turned round and held out her hand to the new-comer.

The Professorin did not congratulate her, nor did she call her Frau
Baroness.

Frau Ceres now wished to know what her husband--but she corrected
herself quickly and said: "I should say the Baron now; well--what has
the Baron to do in town; must he pass a Knight's examination, and will
he be knighted before the assembled multitude?"

The Professorin replied that there was nothing of the kind now, there
would be simply a parchment patent delivered to him.

"Parchment--parchment?" repeated Frau Ceres several times to herself.
"What is parchment?"

"It is dressed skin," said the Professorin in explanation.

"Ah, a scalp--a scalp. I understand. On it--will the patent be written
with ink just the same as everything else that they write?"

She stared a long while before her, then after first shutting and again
opening her eyes, she begged the Professorin to choose one of her
finest dresses for herself; angry and astonished, the Professorin rose,
but she sat down again hastily, and said that she was sensible of the
kindness of Frau Sonnenkamp, but she no longer wore such fine dresses.

"Frau Sonnenkamp doesn't wear them any more either. Frau Sonnenkamp,
Frau Sonnenkam