The Maid of Orléans came to the stage, with Rybinski as Dunois, but neither the Möhrings nor their lodger Hugo were present at the performance. Hugo had become ill. He was running a rather high fever and requested that a doctor be sent for. The doctor came but was unable to make a diagnosis for several days, until one morning it became clear what the problem was. He went over to the Möhrings, and said, “It's measles, nothing unusual and nothing dangerous. But be vigilant, Frau Möhring, otherwise, we’ll have a dead man on our hands without knowing how it happened.”

“Good heavens, Herr Doktor, he's only been with us for six weeks and now something like this! If people hear about it, no one will want to move in. Hushing it up won't work. There are so many bad people, and the Schulzes won't like it either.”

“Very possibly. But the most important thing is not to get so anxious right away. He's still alive and will probably remain so. I just wanted to warn you that you should watch him and keep laying damp cloths over the bed canopy. Bacteria are no joking matter. And above all, no drafts. Drafts are the worst thing. Everything comes back and infects the vital organs.”

“Oh lord, would that mean—?”

“And then we would have a casus mortis.”

Mathilde was not present at this conversation. When she returned from a walk into the city center and heard what the doctor had said, she replied, “Mother, you really just can't bear anything. Measles—that's nothing! Measles are measles. Every little child gets them; they’re even supposed to be good for you. Everything gets cleaned out, and that's always the most important thing. Of course, we also have to be watchful and take care that he doesn't see Runtschen. He's so delicate in some respects; he told me once that he was quite terrified of her.”

“Oh, he just said that.”

“No, Mother, he meant it. People who always read plays and go to the theater are like that. And that black patch is truly dreadful.”