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〃Indeed he does！〃
Burnamy hesitated； then he asked； gloomily again：
〃And what about the consequences to the； other fellow？〃
〃A woman；〃 said Mrs。 March； 〃has no concern with them。 And besides； I
think you've done all you could to save Mr。 Stoller from the
consequences。〃
〃I haven't done anything。〃
〃No matter。 You would if you could。 I wonder；〃 she broke off； to
prevent his persistence at a point where her nerves were beginning to
give way； 〃what can be keeping Mr。 March？〃
Nothing much more important； it appeared later； than the pleasure of
sauntering through the streets on the way to the house of Schiller； and
looking at the pretty children going to school； with books under their
arms。 It was the day for the schools to open after the long summer
vacation； and there was a freshness of expectation in the shining faces
which； if it could not light up his own graybeard visage； could at least
touch his heart：
When he reached the Schiller house he found that it was really not the
Schiller house； but the Schiller flat； of three or four rooms； one flight
up； whose windows look out upon the street named after the poet。 The
whole place is bare and clean； in one corner of the large room fronting
the street stands Schiller's writing…table； with his chair before it；
with the foot extending toward this there stands； in another corner； the
narrow bed on which he died； some withered wreaths on the pillow frame a
picture of his deathmask； which at first glance is like his dead face
lying there。 It is all rather tasteless； and all rather touching； and
the place with its meagre appointments； as compared with the rich Goethe
house； suggests that personal competition with Goethe in which Schiller
is always falling into the second place。 Whether it will be finally so
with him in literature it is too early to ask of time； and upon other
points eternity will not be interrogated。 〃The great； Goethe and the
good Schiller；〃 they remain； and yet； March reasoned； there was something
good in Goethe and something great； in Schiller。
He was so full of the pathos of their inequality before the world that he
did not heed the warning on the door of the pastry…shop near the Schiller
house； and on opening it he bedaubed his hand with the fresh paint on it。
He was then in such a state； that he could not bring his mind to bear
upon the question of which cakes his wife would probably prefer； and he
stood helplessly holding up his hand till the good woman behind the
counter discovered his plight； and uttered a loud cry of compassion。
She ran and got a wet napkin； which she rubbed with soap； and then she
instructed him by word and gesture to rub his hand upon it； and she did
not leave him till his rescue was complete。 He let her choose a variety
of the cakes for him； and came away with a gay paper bag full of them；
and with the feeling that he had been in more intimate relations with the
life of Weimar than travellers are often privileged to be。 He argued
from the instant and intelligent sympathy of the pastry woman a high
grade of culture in all classes； and he conceived the notion of
pretending to Mrs。 March that he had got these cakes from； a descendant
of Schiller。
His deceit availed with her for the brief moment in which she always；
after so many years' experience of his duplicity； believed anything he
told her。 They dined merrily together at their hotel； and then Burnamy
came down to the station with them and was very comfortable to March in
helping him to get their tickets and their baggage registered。 The train
which was to take them to Halle； where they were to change for Berlin；
was rather late； and they had but ten minutes after it came in before it
would start again。 Mrs。 March was watching impatiently at the window of
the waiting…room for the dismounting passengers to clear the platform and
allow the doors to be opened； suddenly she gave a cry； and turned and ran
into the passage by which the new arrivals were pouring out toward the
superabundant omnibuses。 March and Burnamy； who had been talking apart；
mechanically rushed after her and found her kissing Miss Triscoe and
shaking hands with the general amidst a tempest of questions and answers；
from which it appeared that the Triscoes had got tired of staying in
Wurzburg； and had simply come on to Weimar a day sooner than they had
intended。
The； general was rather much bundled up for a day which was mild for a
German summer day； and he coughed out an explanation that he had taken an
abominable cold at that ridiculous parade； and had not shaken it off yet。
He had a notion that change of air would be better for him； it could not
be worse。
He seemed a little vague as to Burnamy； rather than inimical。 While the
ladies were still talking eagerly together in proffer and acceptance of
Mrs。 March's lamentations that she should be going away just as Miss
Triscoe was coming； he asked if the omnibus for their hotel was there。
He by no means resented Burnamy's assurance that it was； and he did not
refuse to let him order their baggage； little and large； loaded upon it。
By the time this was done； Mrs。 March and Miss Triscoe had so far
detached themselves from each other that they could separate after one
more formal expression of regret and forgiveness。 With a lament into
which she poured a world of inarticulate emotions； Mrs。 March wrenched
herself from the place； and suffered herself； to be pushed toward her
train。 But with the last long look which she cast over her shoulder；
before she vanished into the waiting…room； she saw Miss Triscoe and
Burnamy transacting the elaborate politenesses of amiable strangers with
regard to the very small bag which the girl had in her hand。 He
succeeded in relieving her of it； and then he led the way out of the
station on the left of the general； while Miss Triscoe brought up the
rear。
LXIII。
From the window of the train as it drew out Mrs。 March tried for a
glimpse of the omnibus in which her proteges were now rolling away
together。 As they were quite out of sight in the omnibus； which was
itself out of sight； she failed； but as she fell back against her seat
she treated the recent incident with a complexity and simultaneity of
which no report can give an idea。 At the end one fatal conviction
remained： that in everything she had said she had failed to explain to
Miss Triscoe how Burnamy happened to be in Weimar and how he happened to
be there with them in the station。 She required March to say how she had
overlooked the very things which she ought to have mentioned first； and
which she had on the point of her tongue the whole time。 She went over
the entire ground again to see if she could discover the reason why she
had made such an unaccountable break； and it appeared that she was led to
it by his rushing after her with Burnamy before she had had a chance to
say a word about him； of course she could not say anything in his
presence。 This gave her some comfort； and there was consolation in the
fact that she had left them together without the least intention or
connivance； and now； no matter what happened； she could not accuse