, and yet she was not quite content.

One morning, as she was walking early in the park with her son, she
said:--

"I have discovered something new in myself: I have no talent for being
a guest."

Eric interposed no questions, for he knew that she would reach the
goal, even if she took a roundabout way. The Mother continued:--

"I have the feeling that I must bring something to pass; I cannot be
forever a passive recipient; and here is the special danger of riches.
The rich look upon themselves as guests in this world; they themselves
have nothing to do, and others must do everything for them. I tell
thee; my dear son, that I cannot stand it, I must do something. You
men, you can work, create, influence, and renew your life by what you
do, while we women can only recreate and restore our life by loving."

Eric suggested that she accomplished her part by simply being, but the
Mother very energetically responded:--

"I am always vexed with Schiller for this: he should not have said, it
isn't like him to write, 'Ordinary natures pay with what they do; noble
ones with what they are.' That sounds like a carte blanche for all
do-nothings, with or without coronets upon their seals."

Eric held up to her the satisfaction arising from her influence upon
Frau Ceres; but the Mother shook her head without any remark.

She had placed great hopes in that, but such an enigmatical and
incomprehensible person was presented to her view, that she seemed to
herself wholly useless. She would not acknowledge to her son that the
house had something oppressive to her; that the family had all its
glory and pride in external possessions, so that everything here
appeared external, directed by alien hands, and altogether destitute of
any strength developed from within.

Fraeulein Perini spoke always of Frau Ceres as "the dear sufferer." From
what was Frau Ceres suffering?

The Professorin had once lightly touched upon the thought how greatly
Frau Ceres must miss her daughter; when, with eyes sparkling like those
of a snake as it suddenly darts up its head, she sent Fraeulein Perini,
who was at hand, into the garden; she then said to the Professorin,
looking timidly round:--

"He is not to blame; I, only I. I wished to punish him when I said that
to my child; but I did not mean she should go away."

The Professorin begged that she would confide the whole to her, but
Frau Ceres laughed like a person wholly beside herself.

"No, no, I