It was on the second of September that these words were spoken, and the conversation would doubtless have been continued, if it had not happened to be the anniversary of the battle of Sedan.  But because of the day they were interrupted by the sound of drum and fife, and Effi, who had heard before of the proposed parade, but had meanwhile forgotten about it, rushed suddenly away from the work-table, past the circular plot and the pond, in the direction of a balcony built on the churchyard wall, to which one could climb by six steps not much broader than the rungs of a ladder.  In an instant she was at the top and, surely enough, there came all the school children marching along, Jahnke strutting majestically beside the right flank, while a little drum major marched at the head of the procession, several paces in advance, with an expression on his countenance as though it were incumbent upon him to fight the battle of Sedan all over again.  Effi waved her handkerchief and he promptly returned the greeting by a salute with his shining baton.

A week later mother and daughter were again sitting in the same place, busy, as before, with their work.  It was an exceptionally beautiful day; the heliotrope growing in a neat bed around the sundial was still in bloom, and the soft breeze that was stirring bore its fragrance over to them.

“Oh, how well I feel,” said Effi, “so well and so happy!  I can’t think of heaven as more beautiful.  And, after all, who knows whether they have such wonderful heliotrope in heaven?”

“Why, Effi, you must not talk like that.  You get that from your father, to whom nothing is sacred.  Not long ago he even said:  ‘Niemeyer looks like Lot.’  Unheard of.  And what in the world can he mean by it?  In the first place he doesn’t know how Lot looked, and secondly it shows an absolute lack of consideration for Hulda.  Luckily, Niemeyer has only the one daughter, and for this reason the comparison really falls to the ground.  In one regard, to be sure, he was only too right, viz., in each and every thing that he said about ‘Lot’s wife,’ our good pastor’s better half, who again this year, as was to be expected, simply ruined our Sedan celebration by her folly and presumption.  By the by it just occurs to me that we were interrupted in our conversation when Jahnke came by with the school.  At least I cannot imagine that the furs, of which you were speaking at that time, should have been your only wish.  So let me know, darling, what further things you have set your heart upon.”

“None, mama.”

“Truly, none?”

“No, none, truly; perfectly in earnest.  But, on second thought, if there were anything—­”

“Well?”

“It would be a Japanese bed screen, black, with gold birds on it, all with long crane bills.  And then perhaps, besides, a hanging lamp for our bedroom, with a red shade.”

Mrs. von Briest remained silent.

“Now you see, mama, you are silent and look as though I had said something especially improper.”