The young officer had already excited his interest; his behaviour as a
soldier was loudly praised by his superiors; and then unprofessionally
he was distinguished from the average type of young lieutenant by a
certain attractive maturity of bearing, without, however, impressing
one as a prig. Priggishness was even less endurable to Falkenhein than
play and dancing.

The colonel had the gift of making people open their hearts to him by
means of a few judicious questions, and could very well distinguish
between genuine and spurious sentiment.

Reimers answered with a candour which astonished himself most of all,
and Falkenhein listened with a pleased attention. Here was a man after
his own heart, possessed by a manly seriousness, and with a deliberate
lofty aim in life; not merely dreaming of substituting a general's
epaulettes for the simple shoulder-knots of a lieutenant. Here, too,
was a fine enthusiasm, which touched the veteran of fifty and warmed
his heart. It recalled the old warlike days and the cry: "Only put us
to the proof! and rather to-day than to-morrow!" Ah! since those days
he had learnt to judge such things rather differently; but nevertheless
it was the right way for youth to regard them. Such enthusiasm was a
little exaggerated, at any rate as things stood at present, and also a
trifle shortsighted. It was now no longer as in the days of 1870 and
after, when the watch on the Rhine had to be kept for fear of
vengeance. He could not join as heartily as he might then have done in
the proud joy of the young officer.

He felt inclined to take himself to task for this, and on no account
would he pour cold water on this fine flame of enthusiasm. It was the
very thing in which the present time was most lacking: patriotism as a
genuine conviction rooted firmly and deep in the breast, not venting
itself in mere cheering and hurrahs; and accompanied by a steady
comprehension of the soldier's profession as simply a constant
readiness for war.

From the time of this conversation, Reimers began to feel heartily
enthusiastic about his colonel. He was almost ashamed to find that his
good friend Guentz was thus slightly forgotten; but this was not really
the case--the two might safely share in his affection without wrong to
either of them. The honest, faithful fellow in Berlin remained his dear
friend; the colonel he began to look on as a second father.

Falkenhein's partiality was not, of course, openly expresse