m at
dinner-time in such--such a filthy condition; as though she had not
seen him in his deep humiliation. No, she would never, never be able to
kiss him again or caress him, to lay her arms round his neck as she had
been so fond of doing when he was a boy. All at once he had become
quite a stranger to her.

She did not say another word, did not reproach him. She heard what
her husband said to him, when he joined him in the garden, as if it did
not concern her.

Although Paul Schlieben had seemed very mild when speaking to his
wife at dinner-time, he was not so now when face to face with his son.
"I hear you came home drunk--what do you mean by that?" he said to him
severely. "Aren't you ashamed of yourself?"

"Who has said so?"

"That's nothing to do with you, I know it, and that is
sufficient."

"_She_, of course," said the boy bitterly. "The mater always
exaggerates everything. I was certainly not drunk, I only had a little
too much--we all had--good gracious, pater, you must do what the others
do! What else is one to do on such a long evening? But it was certainly
nothing bad. See how fresh I am." And he took hold of the ornamental
cherry-tree, under which they were standing, with both hands, as if he
were going to root it up, and a whole shower of white blossoms fell
down on him and on the path.

"Let my tree alone," said his father, smiling.

Kate saw it. Could Paul laugh? So he did not take it very seriously,
after all. But that did not provoke her as it would have done
some time ago, she felt as if everything in her were cold and dead. She
heard the two speak as though they were far, far away, their voices
sounded quite low, and still they were speaking loudly and also
animatedly.

All the same the conversation was not altogether friendly. Even if
the man was not seriously angry with the lad, he still considered it
his duty to expostulate with him. He concluded by saying: "Such
immoderate drinking is disgusting!"--but he thought to himself: "It
cannot have been so bad as Kate makes out, or I should have seen some
signs of it." His brown cheeks were smooth and firm, so shiny and so
lately washed, his eyes, which were not large but noticeable on account
of their dark depths, were even more sparkling than usual.

The man laid his hand on his son's shoulder: "So we must have no
more of that, Wolfgang, if we're to remain friends."

The boy shrugged his shoulders carelessly. "I really don't know what
cr