im a certain satisfaction.
Kesselborn was still sweating in the top form--his people made a point
of his studying theology, possibly in order to become court chaplain on
account of his noble birth--Lehmann had to help his father in his
forwarding business in spite of the very good examination he had passed
on leaving school, and look after the furniture-vans. And Kullrich--ah,
poor Kullrich, he had consumption, like his mother.

The corners of Wolfgang's mouth drooped with a half-contemptuous,
half-compassionate smile when he thought of his school-fellows. Was
that living? Oh, and to live, to live was so beautiful!

Wolfgang was conscious of his strength: he could tear up trees by
the roots, blow down walls that stood in his way with his breath as
though they were cards.

School was no longer the place for him, his limbs and his
inclinations had outgrown the benches. Besides, he was already growing
a moustache. There had long been a black shadow on the upper lip that
made one guess it was coming, and now it had come, it had come!

Surely such a grown-up person could not remain in the second form
any longer? And why should he? He was not to be a scholar. Wolfgang
left school after passing the examination that admitted him to the top
form.

Paul Schlieben had given up, for the present, his intention of
sending him abroad as soon as he had finished school; he wished to keep
him a little longer under his own eye first. Not that he wanted to
guard him as carefully as Kate did, but the old doctor, their good
friend whom he esteemed so highly, had warned him in confidence once
when they were sitting quite alone over a glass of wine: "Listen,
Schlieben," he had said, "you had better take care of the boy. I
wouldn't let him go so far away as yet--he is so young. And he is a
rampageous fellow and--after what he went through as a child, you
know--hm, one can never tell if his heart will hold out."

"Why not?" Schlieben had asked in surprise. "So you look upon him as
ill?"

"No, certainly not." The doctor had grown quite angry: at once this
exaggeration! "Who says anything about 'ill'? All the same, the lad
must not do everything in a rush. Well, and boys will be boys. We know
that from our time."

And both men had nodded to each other, had brightened up and
laughed.

Wolfgang had a horse to ride on, rode first at the riding-school and
then a couple of hours each day out of doors. His father made a point
of his not sit