tinued
ill-humor, but he was struck by his having told the huntsman something
which he had never confided to him. But he would not force his
confidence and disturb the boy's mind; he would wait quietly till the
cloud passed over.

CHAPTER XIII.

FRESH WINE, FRESH SONG, AND FRESH FAME.

The Doctor had called, in the meanwhile, but only for a brief quarter
of an hour at a time; he commended Eric for so taking upon himself the
entire direction of Roland, and devoting himself to him so exclusively;
he desired that no intervention of his should interrupt the inflowing
of the moral and spiritual influence.

Eric now detained him, speaking of Roland's paleness, which he thought
an indication of sickness.

"Indeed?" cried the Doctor. "Has it taken so soon? I am glad that it
has made its appearance on the surface so early and so decidedly."

"What is it? What is it, then?"

"It's all right and normal; symptoms all good. My dear young friend, I
call it usually the May-cold. Just consider a moment! Roland was
born for a huntsman, and I was afraid you would turn him into a
pebble-gatherer or a beetle-sticker. I see very plainly, that you would
like to give him a deeper apprehension of life, but there lies the
danger that he will take it too seriously; now the best prescription
for life is, to take life easily."

Eric chimed in with this, acknowledging that he was far from desiring
to make Roland a pattern youth, perfect in every particular. The Doctor
continued:--

"As I said before, our lad is troubled with the May-cold. Whenever
there is a change in the relations of life, as change of occupation, or
marriage, where the previous independence is given up, after the first
weeks of bloom, notwithstanding all the happiness enjoyed, comes in the
May-cold, just as we see in nature. They say that it comes from the
Alps, from the melting of the icebergs there; perhaps icebergs of
egotism melt within, and at any rate, it is like a renewed struggle of
winter with summer, like a struggle of solitariness with sociality.
Don't be despairing! Let the days of chilly convalescence pass over the
lad, and all will be well. Don't press him hard in these days; he is
already beginning to feel as if he had come under a yoke. Moreover, I
will give him some medicine, so that he shall think he is not well;
this will be an advantage to him, and to you too, for you can then give
way to him, as