He read it through to the last letter, and when, a fortnight later; he asked me at his house to remain after the others had left, he looked pleased, and confessed that he had found something entirely different from what he expected.

The book was a scholarly work, and also a fascinating romance.
Then he expressed some doubts concerning the space I had devoted to the Egyptians in my first arrangement.

Their nature was too reserved and typical to hold the interest of the unscientific reader.

According to his view, I should do well to limit to Egyptian soil what I had gained by investigation, and to make Grecian life, which was familiar to us moderns as the foundation of our aesthetic perceptions, more prominent.
The advice was good, and, keeping it in view, I began to subject the whole romance to a thorough revision.
Before going to Wildbad in the summer of 1863 I had a serious conversation with my teacher and friend.

Hitherto, he said, he had avoided any discussion of my future; but now that I was so decidedly convalescing, he must tell me that even the most industrious work as a "private scholar," as people termed it, would not satisfy me.