he were dancing a minuet, and then came as much gravity and expression
into the face of the General as the General could contrive to infuse into it;
but he replied,
“I never retract my words! You are invited, Professor!” and he bowed
with a glance at the King, who must have heard the whole dialogue.
Now, there was a company to dinner at the General’s, but only the old
Count and his protégé were invited.
“I have my foot under his table,” thought George. “That’s laying the
foundation stone.”
And the foundation stone was really laid, with great ceremony, at the
house of the General and of the General’s lady.
The man had come, and had spoken quite like a person in good society,
and had made himself very agreeable, so that the General had often to
repeat his “Charming!” The General talked of this dinner, talked of it even
to a court lady; and this lady, one of the most intellectual persons about the
court, asked to be invited to meet the Professor the next time he should
come. So he had to be invited again; and he was invited, and came, and was
charming again; he could even play chess.
“He’s not out of the cellar,” said the General; “he’s quite a distinguished
person. There are many distinguished persons of that kind, and it’s no fault
of his.”
The Professor, who was received in the King’s palace, might very well be
received by the General; but that he could ever belong to the house was out
of the question, only the whole town was talking of it.
He grew and grew. The dew of favor fell from above, so no one was
surprised after all that he should become a Privy Councillor, and Emily a
Privy Councillor’s lady.
“Life is either a tragedy or a comedy,” said the General. “In tragedies
they die, in comedies they marry one another.”
