The drawing-room, in which Wilhelm walked restlessly up and down, was full of Indian things; oriental carpets on the floor, low divans along the walls covered with gold embroidery and heaped with cushions, rocking-chairs in the corners, punkahs hanging from the ceilings—­no heavy European furniture anywhere, but here and there a little toy-like table or stool made of sandalwood or ebony, inlaid with silver or mother-o’-pearl.  Everything smelled strangely of sandalwood and camphor and unknown spices, everything seemed to spring and shake under a heavy European foot, everything had such an unaccustomed look, that one felt as if one were in a foreign land, where Western prejudices and standpoints were unknown and inadmissible.  These surroundings spoke to Wilhelm dumbly yet intelligibly, and he felt their persuasive power almost immediately.  He had recovered his equanimity when, a quarter of an hour later, Schrotter came in.

“What a pleasant surprise!” he cried from the doorway.  “Will you stay to lunch with me?”

Wilhelm accepted gratefully, and then related his morning’s experiences.  Schrotter had made him sit on a divan surrounded by cushions, and listened attentively, while his half-closed eyes, full of fire, rested on his friend’s unhappy face.  Wilhelm had never mentioned his engagement to Fraulein Ellrich to many of his old friends, but Dr. Schrotter had been told of it in all its circumstances by Paul Haber.  Now, however, Wilhelm could not avoid the subject in his mind, and to make his last visit to the Ellrichs, and his behavior with regard to Herr von Pechlar intelligible, he told Dr. Schrotter, in short, concise language, the beginning and subsequent development of his love-affair, and by the confession of his consideration of Loulou’s nature, gave a clew to his delay, coolness, and final renunciation.

When Wilhelm had finished, and raised his eyes questioningly to Schrotter, the latter said, after a short silence: 

“I congratulate you on the quiet way in which you have told me all this.  For a young fellow of twenty-six with deep feelings it is little short of a wonder.  But the question is, what do you intend to do?”

“Nothing,” answered Wilhelm simply.

“You will not call out Herr von Pechlar?”

“No.”

“And if Herr von Pechlar challenges you?”

“He challenge me?”

“Certainly; for although he is the direct offender, we can’t overlook the fact, dear Eynhardt, that you first insulted him, which by a nice point of honor would justify him in taking the first steps.  The man is evidently bent on a quarrel, so we have to consider the possibility that he may send his second with a challenge.”

“In that case I would make it clear that I do not demand satisfaction, but neither will I give it.”

There was another pause.

“You are undertaking what may involve serious consequences,” remarked Schrotter.