But his friends did not laugh at him; they bore with him, treated him gently, as if he had been a disappointed girl.

Paul, who was filling the place of an invalided professor of agricultural chemistry, and working hard after the college term began, found time to come every day for a long walk in the Thiergarten, and resigned himself to long philosophical discussions which so far had not been at all to his taste.

Dr.
Schrotter seldom had any spare time during the day; but Wilhelm always took tea with him in the evenings.
Did Bhani know anything of his story?
Had her womanly instinct guessed that his careworn, melancholy expression betrayed an unhappy love story--a subject so sympathetic to women?
Anyhow she anticipated every means of serving him, and her glance betrayed an almost shamefaced sympathy.
One November evening they were sitting at the little drum-shaped table in the Indian drawing-room; the teaurn steaming, and Bhani standing near, ready to obey her master's slightest wish.

Schrotter touched on the wound in Wilhelm's heart hitherto so tenderly avoided.
"My friend," he said, "it is time that you came to yourself.

It is obvious that you are still grieving, instead of fighting against your dreams; you give way to them without a struggle." Wilhelm hung his head.