"Father, you are mistaken," Felix answered. "It's my outraged sense of honour that gives me no peace. I am a German lad, father, and a brave officer. I can't stand the stain on my calling any longer."
"Felixchen," said the old man, "go to bed, my son, and you'll get over it."
"Father," replied his son, "I am sorry to have to say it, but you have no conception of what honour is."
"Felixchen," went on the old man, ignoring the taunt, "you haven't enough occupation. If you would only look after the bottles--of course the barmaid is there for the purpose--but it would do you good. It would distract your thoughts. Or you might go out shooting sometimes."
"Lord bless my soul! there are the woods and forest of Schranden. Whether the hares devour each other, or you annex your share of them, is all the same."
"That won't do for me, father. I am an officer, and don't wish to be caught poaching."
"Good gracious, Felixchen, how you talk! Do you forget that I am magistrate here. I am not likely to sentence you to the gallows. But do as you like, my boy. Of course you _might_ go oftener to the parsonage. The old pastor enjoys a game of chess; there's nothing to be gained by chess, I know, but some people seem to like it, and then there's--Helene."
"Ah, Helene!" said Felix, stroking his chin and looking flattered.
The old man examined the artificial fly in the centre of his amber heart.
"I have a strong notion that she would be a good match if the pastor consented, and she liked you."
"Why shouldn't she like me?" asked Felix.
"Well, there might be some one else who----"
"Or do you mean that she has already set her heart on you?"
"You see, Felixchen, that would be a great piece of good fortune for us. People are constantly carping at the way in which they think I acquired my bit of money--without the smallest ground of course. If only the pastor gave you his daughter as wife, it would stop their mouths once for all. A man like Pastor Götz has great weight and influence. Well then, as I said, it's worth while your hanging about there a little. Court her, and a fellow like you is sure----"
"Dear father, spare me your advice, if you please," interrupted his son. "Whether Helene becomes my wife or not, is my own affair. I have not yet made up my mind. She has a pretty enough little phiz, but she is too thin. She might be fattened up with advantage. Then there's something old-maidish about her, something sharp and prudish that I don't quite fancy. For instance, if you put your arm round her waist she says, 'Ah, dear Herr Lieutenant, how you frightened me!' and wriggles away. And if you squeeze her arm, by Jokus, she screams out directly, 'Oh, dear Herr Lieutenant, don't do that, I've got such a delicate skin.' Of course that's all airs and affectation, and perhaps if a man caught hold of her firmly and didn't give in, she'd allow herself to be kissed at last; but as I say, I have not made up my mind, so don't build too much on it."