nto a fury, and at such times she hazards
everything."

At this point Wilke came in from the dining hall and reported that he
had counted everything and found everything there, except that one of
the fine wine glasses was broken, but that had occurred yesterday when
the toast was drunk. Miss Hulda had clinked her glass too hard against
Lieutenant Nienkerk's.

"Of course, half asleep and always has been, and lying under the elder
tree has obviously not improved matters. A silly person, and I don't
understand Nienkerk."

"I understand him perfectly."

"But he can't marry her."

"No."

"His purpose, then?"

"A wide field, Luise."

This was the day after the wedding. Three days later came a scribbled
little card from Munich, with all the names on it indicated by two
letters only. "Dear mama: This morning we visited the Pinakothek.
Geert wanted to go over to the other museum, too, the name of which I
will not mention here, because I am in doubt about the right way to
spell it, and I dislike to ask him. I must say, he is angelic to me
and explains everything. Generally speaking, everything is very
beautiful, but it's a strain. In Italy it will probably slacken
somewhat and get better. We are lodging at the 'Four Seasons,' which
fact gave Geert occasion to remark to me, that 'outside it was autumn,
but in me he was having spring.' I consider that a very graceful
compliment. He is really very attentive. To be sure, I have to be
attentive, too, especially when he says something or is giving me an
explanation. Besides, he knows everything so well that he doesn't even
need to consult a guide book. He delights to talk of you two,
especially mama. He considers Hulda somewhat affected, but old Mr.
Niemeyer has completely captivated him. A thousand greetings from your
thoroughly entranced, but somewhat weary Effi."

Similar cards now arrived daily, from Innsbruck, from Vicenza, from
Padua. Every one began: "We visited the famous gallery here this
morning," or, if it was not the gallery, it was an arena or some
church of "St. Mary" with a surname. From Padua came, along with the
card, a real letter. "Yesterday we were in Vicenza. One must see
Vicenza on account of Palladio. Geert told me that everything modern
had its roots in him. Of course, with reference only to architecture.
Here in Padua, where we arrived this morning, he said to himself
several times in the hotel omnibus, 'He lies in Padua interred,' and
was surpris