lied to him, that Goethe had expressed the same thing,
Sonnenkamp answered: "That is very pleasant to me. I think that Goethe
understood life."

He uttered this in a very condescending tone, as much as to say, that
any one must esteem himself fortunate to have Herr Sonnenkamp recognise
his worth.

On the north side of the house in the large saloon, covered with a red
Persian carpet, was a half-octagon recess, in the middle of which stood
a handsome malachite table surrounded by fixed chairs.

Four large windows, or rather four single panes of glass six feet in
height, gave a free outlook; and in the spaces between the windows
tablets of marble were inserted, half way up, on which were sculptured
the four parts of the "Day" of Rietschel. The ceiling was ornamented
with fine stucco-work, from which a silver lamp seemed to fly forth,
rather than to hang down, for it took the form of a flying Cupid of
bronze, holding a torch in his hand, and this torch, as Sonnenkamp
immediately illustrated, could be lighted as a gas-burner.

"Only here," he said smiling, "do I have works of art, insomuch as I
would neither deceive myself nor others--I have no taste for creative
art. You, as the son of a Professor of AEsthetics, perhaps consider this
very barbarous?"

"Not at all, only honest; and I think you are so far entitled to do as
you think best."

"It is a duty for every one to be honest, and there is no choice in the
matter."

"Pardon me if I have expressed myself badly. I mean, that even the
realm of art is not free from rival claims; and he who has such a
manifest gift for landscape-gardening, ought to be content with that,
and can refrain from expressing himself in any other art."

Sonnenkamp smiled. This man, he thought, knows always how to come down
on his feet.

He led his guest into the music-saloon. It had no gilding nor satin,
only a centre-piece on the ceiling, and sea-green hangings on the
walls. In the niches made by two small chimneys were brown, stuffed
damask seats and sofas. This saloon seemed to be continually waiting
for a social company, either moving about, or quietly seated.

Sonnenkamp smiled when Eric said that he was pleased to see the
music-saloon so unadorned. The plain white had a sunshiny appearance,
as if the sun lingered on the walls, and the eye was not attracted to
any particular object, so that one could listen all the more
attentively, only one sense being called into activity.

Sonn