however, in which his experience failed him.  To Apollonius it presented no difficulties.  He pointed out three or four different ways in which it could be done and reduced the old gentleman to such a state of confusion that he could scarcely conceal it.  A curious, wild train of contradictory sensations rushed through his brain—­joy and pride in his son, then pain that he was nothing and never could be any more, then shame and wrath that his son knew this and triumphed over him; the desire to curb him and show him that he still was lord and master.  But even if he wanted to carry his point, would his son obey?  There was no way to preserve even the appearance of leadership save through his diplomatic art.  In a grim voice he gave commands which were utterly unnecessary, because they pertained to things which would have been done as a matter of course without command.  In new matters he angrily disapproved of all suggestions made by Apollonius; but the commands which he finally gave were always in general accordance with that which Apollonius had suggested as most expedient.  Afterward he made excuses to himself and found something that would have been much better than Apollonius’ suggestion.  He was convinced that if he only had his eyesight everything would be different.  Sometimes he gave himself up unreservedly to his joy and pride in his son’s efficiency; but this feeling was soon replaced by the wrathful necessity to exert his diplomatic art.  Apollonius realized the restraint that he was imposing upon his father quite as little as he did his father’s pride in him.  He was glad that he had nothing more to conceal from the old gentleman concerning the business, and that obedience to him did not interfere with the fulfilment of his vow.  The sky above the house with the green shutters took on a brighter, bluer hue.  But the spirit of the house still wandered about wringing its hands.  When the clock struck two in the morning it stood in the arbor before the door to Apollonius’ room and raised its pallid arms pleadingly toward heaven.

The business increased under Apollonius’ diligent hand; the orders were twice as many as they had formerly been.  The postman brought great piles of letters into the house.  Apollonius accepted an advantageous offer made by the owner and leased the slate quarry.  He understood the management of the works from his stay in Cologne, and he employed a former acquaintance from that city whom he knew to be an expert in the business and reliable in his dealings.  His choice was a good one; the man was energetic, but in spite of this fact much additional work fell on Apollonius.  The councilman shook his head sometimes doubtfully, fearing that Apollonius had over-estimated his strength.  It did not strike the young widow how seldom Apollonius came into the living-room.  The children, whom he often called to him to perform little services whereby they might learn, kept up the intercourse.  They could testify that Apollonius had very little