Herr Ueberhell's joy had been so great that now the longing for his son
took deeper hold of him, and he lost strength day by day, yet Frau Vorkel
could not persuade him to see a physician. He often, however, inhaled
deep draughts of a concoction that he had made in the laboratory with his
son's letter before him, and as he seemed to derive no benefit from it he
would distil it again and mix with it new drugs.
One evening-after having spent the whole day in the laboratory--he
retired unusually early, and when Frau Vorkel went into his room to carry
him his "nightcap" he forgot his usual amiable and suave manner and
growled out at her angrily: "After all these years, can't you prepare my
bed for the night without making me burn myself? Must you be inattentive
as well as stupid?"
Never had she heard such a speech as this from her kindly master, and
when from fright she tipped the tray which she was carrying and spilled
some of the mulled wine over her gown, he cried sharply: "Where are your
wits! First you forget to take the red hot warming-pan out of the bed
and now you old goose you spill my good drink onto the floor."
He stopped, for Frau Vorkel had set down the tray on the table in order
to wipe her eyes with her apron; then he thrust his feet out of the bed-
which was entirely contrary to his usual decorous behavior--and demanded
with flashing eyes: "Did you hear what I just said?"
The widow, greatly shocked, retreated and answered sobbing: "How could I
help hearing, and how can you bring yourself to insult an unprotected
widow who has served you long and faithfully.
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