UponthewholeheblamedHeinelessthanGermanyandheaccusedheroftakingashabbyrevenge，intryingtoforgethim；intheheatofhisresentmentthatthereshouldbenorecordofHeineinthecitywherehewasborn，MarchcamenearignoringhimselfthefactthatthepoetFreiligrathwasalsobornthere。AsforthefamousDusseldorfschoolofpainting，whichoncefilledtheworldwiththeworstart，herejoicedthatitwasnowsodead，andhegrudgedtheglancewhichthebeautyofthenewArtAcademyextortedfromhim。ItisintheFrenchtaste，andissofaramonumenttothecontinuanceinonesortofthatFrenchsupremacy，ofwhichinanothersortanotherdenkmalcelebratestheoverthrow。DusseldorfisnotcontentwiththedenkmaloftheKaiseronhorseback，withthetwoVictoriesforgrooms；thereisasecond，whichtheMarchesfoundwhentheystrolledoutagainlateintheafternoon。Itisinthelovelyparkwhichliesintheheartofthecity，andtheyfeltinitspresencetheonlyemotionofsympathywhichthemanypatrioticmonumentsofGermanyawakenedinthem。Ithaddignityandrepose，whichtheseneverhadelsewhere；butitwasperhapsnotsomuchforthedyingwarriorandthepityinglionofthesculpturethattheirheartsweremovedasforthegentleandmournfulhumanityoftheinscription，whichdroppedintoequivalentEnglishverseinMarch’snote-book：
FamewasenoughfortheVictors，andgloryandverdurouslaurel；
Tearsbytheirmothersweptfoundedthisimageofstone。
Tothistheycouldforgivethevauntingrecord，onthereverse，oftheGermansoldierswhodiedheroesinthewarwithFrance，thewarwithAustria，andeventhewarwithpoorlittleDenmark！
Themorninghadbeenbrightandwarm，anditwasjustthattheafternoonshouldbedimandcold，withapalesunlookingthroughaSeptembermist，whichseemedtodeepentheseclusionandsilenceoftheforestreaches；
fortheparkwasreallyaforestoftheGermansort，asparksareapttobeinGermany。Butitwasbeautiful，andtheystrayedthroughit，andsometimessatdownonthebenchesinitsdampshadows，andsaidhowmuchseemedtobedoneinGermanyforthepeople’scomfortandpleasure。Inwhatwastheirownexplicitly，aswellaswhatwastacitlytheirs，theywerenotsorestrictedaswewereathome，andespeciallythechildrenseemedmadefondlyandlovinglyfreeofallpublicthings。TheMarchesmettroopsofthemintheforest，astheystrolledslowlybackbythewindingDusseltothegardenedavenueleadingtothepark，andtheyfoundthemeverywheregayandjoyful。Buttheireldersseemedsubdued，andweresilent。ThestrangersheardnosoundoflaughterinthestreetsofDusseldorf，andtheysawnosmilingexceptonthepartofaveryoldcouple，whosemeetingtheywitnessedandwhogrinnedandcackledateachotherliketwochildrenastheyshookhands。Perhapstheywereindeedchildrenofthatsadsecondchildhoodwhichonewouldrathernotblossombackinto。
InAmerica，lifeisyetajokewithus，evenwhenitisgrotesqueandshameful，asitsooftenis；forwethinkwecanmakeitrightwhenwechoose。ButthereisnojokinginGermany，betweenthefirstandsecondchildhoods，unlessbehindcloseddoors。Eventhere，peopledonotjokeabovetheirbreathaboutkingsandemperors。Iftheyjokeabouttheminprint，theytakeouttheirlaughinjail，forthepresslawsareseverelyenforced，andtheprisonsarefullofableeditors，seriousaswellascomic。Lese-majestyisacrimethatsearchessinnersoutineverywalkoflife，anditissaidthatinfamilyjarsahusbandsometimeshasthelastwordofhiswifebyaccusingherofblasphemingthesovereign，andsohavinghersilencedforthreemonthsatleastbehindpenitentialbars。
“Think。”saidMarch，“howsimplyIcouldadjustanydifferencesofopinionbetweenusinDusseldorf。”
“Don’t！”hiswifeimploredwithaburstoffeelingwhichsurprisedhim。
“Iwanttogohome！”
Theyhadbeentalkingovertheirday，andplanningtheirjourneytoHollandforthemorrow，whenitcametothisoutburstfromherinthelasthalf-hourbeforebedwhichtheysatprolongingbesidetheirstove。
“What！AndnotgotoHolland？Whatistobecomeofmyafter-cure？”
“Oh，it’stoolateforthat，now。We’veusedupthemonthrunningabout，andtiringourselvestodeath。Ishouldliketorestaweek——togetintomyberthontheNorumbiaandrest！”
“IguesstheSeptembergaleswouldhavesomethingtosayaboutthat。”
“IwouldrisktheSeptembergales。”
InthemorningMarchcamehomefromhisbankersgaywiththeday’sprovisionalsunshineinhisheart，andjoyouslyexpectantofhiswife’spleasureinthelettershewasbringing。Therewasonefromeachoftheirchildren，andtherewasonefromFulkerson，whichMarchopenedandreadonthestreet，soastointerceptanyunpleasantnewstheremightbeinthem；thereweretwolettersforMrs。MarchwhichheknewwithoutopeningwerefromMissTriscoeandMrs。Addingrespectively；Mrs。
Adding’s，fromthepostmarks，seemedtohavebeenfollowingthemaboutforsometime。
“They’reallrightathome。”hesaid。“Doseewhatthosepeoplehavebeendoing。”
“Ibelieve。”shesaid，takingaknifefromthebreakfasttraybesideherbedtocuttheenvelopes，“thatyou’vereallycaredmoreaboutthemallalongthanIhave。”
“No，I’veonlybeenanxioustobedonewiththem。”
Shegotthelettersopen，andholdingoneofthemupineachhandshereadthemimpartiallyandsimultaneously；thensheflungthembothdown，andturnedherfaceintoherpillowwithanimpulseofherinalienablegirlishness。“Well，itistoosilly。”
Marchfeltauthorizedtotakethemupandreadthemconsecutively；whenhehaddone，sohedidnotdifferfromhiswife。Inonecase，AgathahadwrittentoherdearMrs。MarchthatsheandBurnamyhadjustthateveningbecomeengaged；Mrs。Adding，onherpartownedafartherstep，andannouncedhermarriagetoMr。Kenby。FollowingimmemorialusageinsuchmattersKenbyhadaddedapostscriptaffirminghishappinessinunsparingterms，andinAgatha’slettertherewasanavowaloflikeeffectfromBurnamy。AgathahintedherbeliefthatherfatherwouldsooncometoregardBurnamyasshedid；andMrs。Addingprofessedacertainhumiliationinhavingrealizedthat，afterallhermisgivingabouthim，Roseseemedratherrelievedthanotherwise，asifheweregladtohaveheroffhishands。
“Well。”saidMarch，“withthesetroublesomeaffairssettled，Idon’tseewhatthereistokeepusinEuropeanylonger，unlessit’stheconsensusofopinioninTom，Bella，andFulkerson，thatweoughttostaythewinter。”
“Staythewinter！”Mrs。Marchrosefromherpillow，andclutchedthehomeletterstoherfromtheabeyanceinwhichtheyhadfallenonthecoverletwhileshewasdealingwiththeothers。“Whatdoyoumean？”
“Itseemstohavebeenpromptedbyahintyouletdrop，whichTomhaspassedtoBellaandFulkerson。”
“Oh，butthatwasbeforeweleftCarlsbad！”sheprotested，whileshedevouredtheletterswithhereyes，andcontinuedtodenouncetheabsurdityofthewriters。Hersonanddaughterbothurgedthatnowtheirfatherandmotherwereoverthere，theyhadbetterstayaslongastheyenjoyedit，andthattheycertainlyoughtnottocomehomewithoutgoingtoItaly，wheretheyhadfirstmet，andrevisitingtheplaceswhichtheyhadseentogetherwhentheywereyoungengagedpeople：withoutthattheirsilverweddingjourneywouldnotbecomplete。Hersonsaidthateverythingwasgoingwellwith’EveryOtherWeek’，andbothhimselfandMr。FulkersonthoughthisfatheroughttospendthewinterinItaly，andgetathoroughrest。“Makeajobofit，March。”Fulkersonwrote，“andhaveaSabbaticalyearwhileyou’reatit。Youmaynotgetanother。”
“Well，Icantellthem。”saidMrs。Marchindignantly，“weshallnotdoanythingofthekind。”
“Thenyoudidn’tmeanit？”
“Meanit！”Shestoppedherselfwithalookatherhusband，andaskedgently，“Doyouwanttostay？”
“Well，Idon’tknow。”heansweredvaguely。Thefactwas，hewassickoftravelandofleisure；hewaslongingtobeathomeandatworkagain。
Butiftherewastobeanyself-sacrificewhichcouldbehad，asitwere，atabargain；whichcouldbefairlydividedbetweenthem，andleavehimtheselfandherthesacrifice，hewastooexperiencedahusbandnottoseetheadvantageofit，ortorefusethemerit。“Ithoughtyouwishedtostay。”
“Yes。”shesighed，“Idid。Ithasbeenvery，verypleasant，and，ifanything，Ihaveover-enjoyedmyself。Wehavegonerompingthroughitliketwoyoungpeople，haven’twe？”
“Youhave。”heassented。“Ihavealwaysfelttheweightofmyyearsingettingthebaggageregistered；theyhavemadethebaggageweighmoreeverytime。”
“AndI’veforgottenmine。Yes，Ihave。Buttheyearshaven’tforgottenme，Basil，andnowIrememberthem。I’mtired。Itdoesn’tseemasifI
couldevergetup。ButIdaresayit’sonlyamood；itmaybeonlyacold；andifyouwishtostay，why——wewillthinkitover。”
“No，wewon’t，mydear。”hesaid，withagenerousshameforhishypocrisyifnotwithapuregenerosity。“I’vegotallthegoodoutofitthattherewasinit，forme，andIshouldn’tgohomeanybettersixmonthshencethanIshouldnow。Italywillkeepforanothertime，andso，forthematterofthat，willHolland。”
“No，no！”sheinterposed。“Wewon’tgiveupHolland，whateverwedo。
Icouldn’tgohomefeelingthatIhadkeptyououtofyourafter-cure；
andwhenwegetthere，nodoubttheseaairwillbringmeupsothatI
shallwanttogotoItaly，too，again。Thoughitseemssofaroff，now！
ButgoandseewhentheafternoontrainfortheHagueleaves，andIshallbeready。Mymind’squitemadeuponthatpoint。”
“Whatabundleofenergy！”saidherhusbandlaughingdownather。
HewentandaskedaboutthetraintotheHague，butonlytosatisfyasuperficialconscience；fornowheknewthattheywerebothofonemindaboutgoinghome。HealsolookedupthetrainsforLondon，andfoundthattheycouldgettherebywayofOstendinfourteenhours。Thenhewentbacktothebanker’s，andwiththehelpoftheParis-NewYorkChroniclewhichhefoundthere，hegotthesailingsofthefirststeamershome。AfterthathestrolledaboutthestreetsforalastimpressionofDusseldorf，butitwasratherblurredbytheconstantlyrecurringpullofhisthoughtstowardAmerica，andheendedbyturningabruptlyatacertaincorner，andgoingtohishotel。
Hefoundhiswifedressed，butfallenagainonherbed，besidewhichherbreakfaststoodstilluntasted；hersmilerespondedwanlytohisbrightness。“I’mnotwell，mydear。”shesaid。“Idon’tbelieveIcouldgetofftotheHaguethisafternoon。”