Dorothea had succeeded in making it clear to her father that it would be
highly advantageous to her, as the nearest relative, to show Herr
Carovius every conceivable favour. Andreas Doederlein baulked at first;
but he could not refuse recognition to the far-seeing penetration of his
daughter.
When she told him of her appearance in the baronial residence, and
mentioned the enormous sum Herr Carovius had collected with the mien of
an undaunted victor, Doederlein became serious; he stared into space and
did some hard thinking. Recalling the now superannuated feud, he
preserved the appearance of inapproachability, and said: "We will not
debase ourselves for the sake of Mammon."
A few days later, however, he said, quite of his own free will, sighing
like a man who has gone through some great moral struggle and come out
of it victorious, "Well, do as you think best, my child, but don't let
me know anything about it."
His argument, had he expressed it in so many words, would have been
something like the following: We are poor; we are living from hand to
mouth. The negligible dowry Herr Carovius gave his sister has been used
up. Marguerite would have been perfectly justified in putting in her
claim for thirty thousand marks, but Herr Carovius settled with her for
only twelve thousand, and there was no possibility of redress. For Herr
Carovius had wheedled his sister into giving him a written statement
that she was satisfied with the sum of twelve thousand: the remaining
eighteen thousand was the price he demanded in return for her consent to
have his sister, who was slavishly submissive to him, marry the man of
her choice.
"I have been duped," said Andreas Doederlein, and bore up under his
grudge with becoming dignity.
The director of the conservatory died, and Andreas Doederlein, who, by
virtue of his achievements and his personality, had the first right to
the vacant position, was appointed to it. His former colleagues were
stout in their contention that the appointment cost him many a bitter
visit to the powers that be. Doederlein read envy in their eyes and
smiled to himself.
But it was a hard life. "Art cannot live without bread," said Doederlein,
with a heroic glance into the future. "But oh, what works I could bring
out if I only had time! Give me time, time, and," swinging his hands
cloudward, "the eagles above would greet me!"