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Updated: June 6, 2025
When Paul Schlieben had come to this decision, he was troubled with the same restlessness as his wife. Oh, if only it were morning, she groaned. If anybody should steal a march on them now, if the child should no longer be there next morning? She tossed about in her impatience and fear. But her husband also turned from side to side without sleeping.
Paul Schlieben and his wife had never placed any special value on money, they had always had enough, a competency was simply a matter of course to them; and they never guessed that their son placed any value on wealth. When Wolfgang used to think now of how little he had once cared for it all in his boyish impetuosity, and that he had run away without money, without bread, he had to smile.
"Very disquieting intelligence, indeed," sighed the Elector, as he sank down groaning into his leather armchair. "But I suppose you know it already. Schlieben is back, and our son comes not with him; he only writes us a lamentable letter, in which he explains that he can not come home at this season of the year, and in the present conjunction of the times."
He looked quite puzzled at first, and then he got offended. No, even if he was nothing but a simple peasant, he would not let the gentleman make a fool of him. It was only by degrees that Schlieben could convince him that his intentions were serious.
Her paintings increased in number; quite a quantity of rolls of canvas were dragged about now wherever they went. At first Paul Schlieben was very pleased to see his wife so enthusiastic. He politely carried her camp-stool and easel for her, and never lost patience when he remained for hours and hours near her whilst she worked.
She had had no idea, of course, that he had first to wake his son out of a leaden sleep in an untidy bed. And she must never, never know. Now they had got him home again, but was it a pleasure? To that Paul Schlieben had to give a curt "no" as answer, even if he had felt ever so disposed to forgive, ever so placable. No joy came to them from that quarter now.
I shall cause him to enter immediately. You must promise me first, though, my beloved husband, that you will listen to him without reproaches and anger, and that you will say nothing in his presence against the only son given us by Heaven." "I shall make no promises that I can not keep," cried the Elector warmly. "I will speak with Schlieben. He must come in. Ho!
What man of my rank and expectations ever endured what I did, ever was treated as I have been treated! Peace had been concluded nine months. I was forgotten. At last, when I supposed all hope lost, the 25th of December, and the day of freedom, came. At the hour of parade, Count Schlieben, lieutenant of the guards, brought orders for my release!
And then her voice grew softer and there was a certain anxiety in it: "He used to come here formerly, but he never does now does he, mother?" Frau Lämke shook her head: "No, never." She did not feel at all at her ease, everything seemed so strange to her: Frau Schlieben in their cellar, and what did she want with Frida? Something had happened, there was something wrong.
True, he was still young, but Paul Schlieben had said to his wife: "He is so developed physically. We can't have him confirmed when he is outwardly, at any rate, a grown-up man. Besides, his age is just right. It is much better for him if he does not begin to reflect first." Did he not reflect already?
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