Their greeting was short and affectionate.
"A hearty welcome to you!" cried Paul. "We will do our best to make
a new home for you here."
"You see, I thought of you at once when I had to look about me for
some resting-place in the wide world."
"I should have expected no less of you. Keep your ears stiff, and
don't let the horrid business worry you."
Wilhelm's bag was handed to an attendant servant, and the two
friends walked off arm in arm toward an elegant brougham lined with
light blue, with a conspicuously handsome long-limbed chestnut and a
stout, bearded coachman, which stood waiting for them.
Wilhelm mentioned the name of the hotel where he intended to stay,
but Paul cut him short. "Not a bit of it! Home, Hans, and look sharp
about it!" And before Wilhelm could offer any remonstrance, he found
himself pushed into the carriage, Paul at his side. The door banged,
the footman sprang on to the box, and off they went as fast as the
long legs of the chestnut would carry them.
For the last two years Paul had owned a villa on the Uhlenhorst, in
the Carlstrasse, and there the fast trotter drew up. Wilhelm had
said but little during the drive, and Paul had confined the
expression of his feeling of delight to clapping his friend on the
shoulder from time to time, and pressing his hand.
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