mother first. And, as he made up his mind to this, he felt that in his case it would be a vocation, that the voice was a distinct one, as though it were calling to him and beckoning him, through the wide doors that had opened. The voice that called to him so distinctly he would answer. . . .
But Ernst was stirring and now woke from his sleep.
"Do you feel rested, Uncle?"
Ernst sadly nodded yes.
"Well, then shall we walk a bit? Else the doctor won't be pleased, Uncle."
They rose and walked on, in silence, up and down, down and up the rippling dunes. Ernst was very gloomy and, at last, said:
"You see, it's beyond my powers to help all of you, all of you. . . . There are so many of you, you see, that I can't possibly take care of every one of you . . . however much I should like to. Then again you mustn't forget that there are thousands swarming round me as it is. True, they are no longer alive . . . but they feel, all the same. Those are the souls. They never leave me in peace. And then to look after all of you, who are alive, as well . . . it's beyond me; sometimes it's beyond me. . . . There's Mamma, poor woman. The whole world is at her heels; and, if I didn't see to it, they would hide her away and bury her. . . . Then I have to look after Papa and you and Uncle
