“Five of these are my brothers,” said his host, “and the rest are friends.”

The company recognized Claude and included him in their talk about the game.  When the visitors had gone, Julius introduced his brothers.  They were all nice boys, Claude thought, and had easy, agreeable manners.  The three older ones were in business, but they too had been to the game that afternoon.  Claude had never before seen brothers who were so outspoken and frank with one another.  To him they were very cordial; the one who was lying down came forward to shake hands, keeping the place in his book with his finger.

On a table in the middle of the room were pipes and boxes of tobacco, cigars in a glass jar, and a big Chinese bowl full of cigarettes.  This provisionment seemed the more remarkable to Claude because at home he had to smoke in the cowshed.  The number of books astonished him almost as much; the wainscoting all around the room was built up in open bookcases, stuffed with volumes fat and thin, and they all looked interesting and hard-used.  One of the brothers had been to a party the night before, and on coming home had put his dress-tie about the neck of a little plaster bust of Byron that stood on the mantel.  This head, with the tie at a rakish angle, drew Claude’s attention more than anything else in the room, and for some reason instantly made him wish he lived there.

Julius brought in his mother, and when they went to supper Claude was seated beside her at one end of the long table.  Mrs. Erlich seemed to him very young to be the head of such a family.  Her hair was still brown, and she wore it drawn over her ears and twisted in two little horns, like the ladies in old daguerreotypes.  Her face, too, suggested a daguerreotype; there was something old-fashioned and picturesque about it.  Her skin had the soft whiteness of white flowers that have been drenched by rain.  She talked with quick gestures, and her decided little nod was quaint and very personal.  Her hazel-coloured eyes peered expectantly over her nose-glasses, always watching to see things turn out wonderfully well; always looking for some good German fairy in the cupboard or the cake-box, or in the steaming vapor of wash-day.

The boys were discussing an engagement that had just been announced, and Mrs. Erlich began to tell Claude a long story about how this brilliant young man had come to Lincoln and met this beautiful young girl, who was already engaged to a cold and academic youth, and how after many heart-burnings the beautiful girl had broken with the wrong man and become betrothed to the right one, and now they were so happy, and every one, she asked Claude to believe, was equally happy!  In the middle of her narrative Julius reminded her smilingly that since Claude didn’t know these people, he would hardly be interested in their romance, but she merely looked at him over her nose-glasses and said, “And is that so, Herr Julius!” One could see that she was a match for them.