diff options
| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 02:34:15 -0700 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 02:34:15 -0700 |
| commit | 55a349581701de1f3565630d0611695558123cdb (patch) | |
| tree | 182d43ef5766608b4825a075e5ab373d4181ef66 /27225-h | |
Diffstat (limited to '27225-h')
| -rw-r--r-- | 27225-h/27225-h.htm | 11287 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 27225-h/images/cover.jpg | bin | 0 -> 101344 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 27225-h/images/gs01.jpg | bin | 0 -> 102332 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 27225-h/images/gs02.jpg | bin | 0 -> 99534 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 27225-h/images/gs03.jpg | bin | 0 -> 97564 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 27225-h/images/gs04.jpg | bin | 0 -> 96232 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 27225-h/images/quote.png | bin | 0 -> 214 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 27225-h/images/title.jpg | bin | 0 -> 11112 bytes |
8 files changed, 11287 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/27225-h/27225-h.htm b/27225-h/27225-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ccd8ab3 --- /dev/null +++ b/27225-h/27225-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,11287 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of A Woman’s Will, by Anne Warner + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +h2.contents {margin-top: 5em;} +h1.head {margin: 3em auto 3em auto;} +h2 {word-spacing: .3em;} + +p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + text-indent: 1em; +} +p.cap {text-indent: 0em;} +p.cap:first-letter { float: left; + margin: 0em 0.1em .2em 0; + padding: 0; + line-height: .9em; font-size: 350%;} + + + +hr { margin: 100px auto 50px auto; + height: 1px; + border-width: 1px 0 0 0; + border-style: solid; + border-color: green; + width: 400px; + clear: both; + } +hr.hr2 {margin: 50px auto 50px auto; width: 200px;} +hr.hr3 {margin: 0 auto 0 auto; width: 100px;} +hr.hr4 {margin: 50px auto 50px auto; width: 400px;} +hr.hr5 {margin: 50px auto 50px auto; width: 100px;} + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + text-align: center; +} + +td.left {text-align: left; padding-right: 1em;} +td.lefth {text-align: left; padding-right: 1em; margin-left: 0em; +padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em; } +td.right {text-align: right;} +td.center {text-align: center; text-indent: 0;} + +em {font-style: italic;} +ins {text-decoration: none; border-bottom: thin dashed silver;} +img.jpg {border: 1px solid black;} + +.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /*visibility: hidden;*/ + position: absolute; + right: 5px; + font-size: 10px; + font-weight: normal; + font-variant: normal; + font-style: normal; + letter-spacing: normal; + text-indent: 0em; + text-align: right; + color: #999999; + background-color: #ffffff; + } /* page numbers */ + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +.block {text-align: center; margin: auto; width: 26em;} +.center {text-align: center; text-indent: 0;} +.right {text-align: right; padding-right: 3em;} +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +.u {text-decoration: underline;} +.o {text-decoration: overline;} +.caption {font-weight: bold;} +.head {font-size: 200%;} +.by {font-size: 100%;} +.author {font-size: 150%;} +.illus {font-size: 120%;} +.link {line-height: 0em;} +.back {font-size: .8em; text-indent: 0em; margin: 3em auto 2em auto;} + +/* Images */ +.figcenter { + margin: 3em auto 3em auto; + text-align: center; +} +.figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin: -6px 1px 0em 0em; padding: 0; text-align: left;} + + +/* Poetry */ +.poem { + margin-left:10%; + margin-right:10%; + text-align: left; +} + +.poem br {display: none;} + +.poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + +.poem span.i0 { + display: block; + margin-left: 0em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i2 { + display: block; + margin-left: 2em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i4 { + display: block; + margin-left: 4em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +// --> +/* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Woman's Will, by Anne Warner + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: A Woman's Will + +Author: Anne Warner + +Illustrator: J. H. Caliga + +Release Date: November 10, 2008 [EBook #27225] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A WOMAN'S WILL *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<h1 class="head">A Woman’s Will</h1> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 395px;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" class="jpg" width="395" height="600" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<div class="link"><a name="front" id="front"> </a></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 392px;"> +<img src="images/gs01.jpg" class="jpg" width="392" height="600" alt="" title="" /><br /> +<span class="caption">“And the unvoiceable wonder of his magic”</span> +</div> + + + + +<p class="center"><span class="head">A Woman’s Will</span> +<br /><br /> +<span class="by">By</span><br /> + +<span class="author">Anne Warner</span><br /> +<br /><br /> + +<span class="illus"><em>Illustrated by J. H. Caliga</em></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 250px;"> +<img src="images/title.jpg" class="jpg" width="250" height="99" alt="con passionato." title="" /> +<span class="caption">con passionato.</span> +</div> + + +<p class="center"><small>Boston</small><br /> +<br /> +Little, Brown, and Company<br /> +<br /> +<small>1904</small><br /><br /><br /> + +<em>Copyright, 1904</em>,<br /> + +By Little, Brown, and Company.</p> + +<hr class="hr3" /> + +<p class="center"><em>All rights reserved</em><br /> + +Published April, 1904<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + +<span class="o">THE UNIVERSITY PRESS, CAMBRIDGE, U.S.A.</span></p> + + + +<h2 class="contents"><a name="contents" id="contents"></a>CONTENTS</h2> + +<table summary="contents" style="width: 26em;"> +<colgroup> +<col width="80%" /> +<col width="20%" /> +</colgroup> + +<tr> +<td class="right" colspan="2"><span class="smcap"><small>Page</small></span></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="center">PART I</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="left"><span class="smcap">The Rise of the Storm</span></td> +<td class="right"><a href="#i">1</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="center">PART II</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="left"><span class="smcap">The Beating of the Waves</span></td> +<td class="right"><a href="#ii">171</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="center">PART III</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="left"><span class="smcap">The Breaking of the Barriers</span></td> +<td class="right"><a href="#iii">297</a></td> +</tr> +</table> + +<hr class="hr5" /> + +<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + +<h4><em>From Pastel Drawings by I. H. Caliga</em></h4> + +<table summary="Illustrations" style="width: 40em;"> +<colgroup> +<col width="80%" /> +<col width="20%" /> +</colgroup> + +<tr> +<td class="lefth">“And the unvoiceable wonder of his magic”</td> +<td class="right"><a href="#front"><em>Frontispiece</em></a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="lefth">“She rose to receive them with radiant countenance”</td> +<td class="right"><a href="#she"><em>Page</em> 19</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="lefth">“They stood together on the Maximilianbrücke”</td> +<td class="right">“ <a href="#they">173</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="lefth">“‘I want you to pay a lot of attention to what I am +going to say, Rosina’”</td> +<td class="right">“ <a href="#want">319</a></td> +</tr> +</table> + + + +<hr /> + + +<h2><big>A Woman’s Will</big><br /> +<br /> +<a name="i" id="i"></a><span class="smcap">Part I</span><br /> +<br /> +THE RISE OF THE STORM</h2> + + + +<hr class="hr4" /> + +<h2>Chapter One</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 8px;"> +<img src="images/quote.png" width="8" height="7" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p class="cap">GOOD-BYE—good-bye, Rosina!” cried Jack, giving one last violent wave +to his handkerchief. And then he put it back in his pocket, because the +crowd upon the deck of the departing Liner had now become a mere blur in +the distance, and distant blurs seemed to his practical nature unworthy +any further outlay of personal energy. “But oh!” he added, as he and +Carter turned to quit the dock, “how the family are just agoing to revel +in peace for these next few months! The Milennium!—well, I don’t know!”</p> + +<p>“I do not see how you and your Uncle John ever came to let her go off +all alone like that,” Carter said, with a gloom that did not try to mask +a terrible reproach; “she’ll be so awfully<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span> liable to meet some +foreigner over there and—and just marry him.” He threw up his cane as +he spoke, intending to rap on the boarding by which they were that +instant passing.</p> + +<p>Jack thrust his own cane out quickly and barred the other with an +excellent fencing <em>fente</em>.</p> + +<p>“No rapping on wood!” he cried sharply; “not after that speech!—you +know!”</p> + +<p>Carter turned two astonished eyes friend-ward.</p> + +<p>“What do you mean?” he asked; “do you mean to say that you’d stand her +marrying any one over there for one minute?”</p> + +<p>“Stand it!” said Jack, “would we <em>stand</em> it, did you say? My dear +fellow, how plainly you betray the fact that you are in love with +Rosina. We,—myself and the family,—on the contrary, live with her. The +difference in the two propositions is too tremendous to be quickly +grasped by you even, but it is just about the same distance as that +between theory and practice.”</p> + +<p>“Nonsense!” said Carter, with an air of deep annoyance.</p> + +<p>“I’ll tell you how I personally regard Rosina,” Jack went on, paying no +attention to the other’s exclamation; “I look upon her as very likely to +marry abroad, because I don’t know of but one man at home clever enough +to be able to marry her.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span>He laid his hand upon Carter’s shoulder as he spoke, and Carter, who +didn’t at all understand what he meant, thought that he understood, and +was correspondingly happy.</p> + +<p>They boarded the ferry then, and went from Hoboken straight back to +civilization.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>The “Kronprinz” meanwhile was slowly wending her way down the river, +past the skyscrapers, and out towards the open sea.</p> + +<p>Rosina, already established in her chair, with a mother-of-pearl +lorgnette upon her lap and a pair of field-glasses swinging from the +card-holder, felt more placidly happy than she had in years. If those +left behind who supposed that she was going abroad to get a second +husband could but have gazed into her heart, they would have +comprehended the utter and complete falsity of their views.</p> + +<p>Her year and a half of widowhood had been one long-continued period of +quiet ecstasy.</p> + +<p>Standing alone in her own room the morning after the funeral, she had +made a vow to never marry again.</p> + +<p>“Enough is as good as a feast,” she had said, surveying her crape-draped +self with a deep sense of satisfaction; “it never approached anything<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span> +like a feast, but it certainly has taught me to know when I have had +enough.”</p> + +<p>And then new orders had been issued to every department of her +establishment, and a peace approaching Paradise reigned in her heart.</p> + +<p>When Carter, in a moment of daring courage, found words in which to +unfold the facts of his case, she listened in a spirit of intense wonder +that he could really be stupid enough to suppose that she would consider +such an idea for a minute.</p> + +<p>Carter, his heart jumping wildly about behind his shirt-bosom, thought +that her look of amazement was a look of appreciation, and wound himself +up to a tension that was quite a strain on the situation.</p> + +<p>“I’m going abroad in May,” was her sole response when he had quite +finished.</p> + +<p>“Oh, my God! don’t go and marry some one over there!” he cried out, in +the sudden awful stress of the moment.</p> + +<p>“I shall marry no one,” she declared with freezing emphasis. “The very +idea! you all seem to think that I am anxious to render myself miserable +again; but I assure you that such is very far from being the case.”</p> + +<p>Poor Carter was stricken dumb under her lash, but he loved her none the +less, for it must be said that there was a certain passionate sweetness<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> +in both the bow and quiver of Rosina’s mouth which always took the worst +of the sting out of all of her many cruel speeches. And yet that very +same bow and quiver were bound to breed a fearful doubt as to the degree +of faith which one might be justified in holding in regard to the +impregnability of her position. Very likely she herself did firmly +intend remaining a widow forever; and yet—</p> + +<p>And yet?—</p> + +<p>Oh, the thought was unendurable!</p> + +<p>Carter refused to endure it anyhow, but for all that the days had moved +right along until that worst of days came into being, leaving him on the +dock and sending the “Kronprinz” out to sea.</p> + +<p>And, if the truth must be told, it is to be feared that if Rosina’s +unhappy suitor could have caught a glimpse of her as night fell over +that same day’s ending, his sickest doubts would have found food for +reflection and consequent misery in her situation, for when Ottillie, +the Swiss maid, came up on deck with a great, furred wrap, the most +personable man aboard was already installed at her mistress’s side, +thanks to a convenient college acquaintance with her dearest of cousins; +and the way that the personable man grabbed the cloak from Ottillie and +heaped it gently around<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> its owner would have stirred the feelings of +any casual lover whose bad luck it might be to happen along just then.</p> + +<p>Rosina nestled back into the soft fur folds and smiled a smile of +luxurious content.</p> + +<p>“I am so thoroughly imbued with utter bliss,” she said; “only to think +that I am going <em>where</em>-ever I please, to do <em>what</em>-ever I please, just +<em>when</em>-ever I please,—indefinitely.”</p> + +<p>“It sounds like Paradise, surely,” said the man, dropping into his own +seat and tucking himself up with two deft blows administered to the +right and left of his legs; “what do you suppose you’ll do first?”</p> + +<p>“I think that I shall do almost everything first,” she answered +laughing, and then, taking a long look out upon the twinkles of Fire +Island, she sighed deeply and joyfully, and added, “Ah, but I’m going to +have a beautiful time!”</p> + +<p>The man plunged a hand into his breast-pocket.</p> + +<p>“Did you ever smoke a cigarette?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“Never!” she exclaimed delightedly; “never till this minute. But will +you teach me now?”</p> + +<p>He looked at her and laughed, his silver case in his hand.</p> + +<p>“You must not go too fast at first, you know. Are you sure that it will +not make you ill?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span>“Oh, yes, yes! I’m sure!”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps it isn’t really the first time,” he suggested.</p> + +<p>“No, it isn’t really the first time, but it will be the first time in +just about one minute.”</p> + +<p>He laughed again and held out the case; she took one from it and looked +at it in a way that proved her ignorance.</p> + +<p>“Does it make any difference which end?”</p> + +<p>“Not with that kind.”</p> + +<p>“Have I anything to bite, or to pinch, or to poke?”</p> + +<p>“No, only something to light.”</p> + +<p>“Very well, light the match.”</p> + +<p>“I’m so original,” said the man; “you see I say nothing about your +eyes.”</p> + +<p>“I noticed your thoughtful consideration,” she replied with a smile. +“Many thanks. And now the match, please.”</p> + +<p>He scratched it somewhere and offered it. The cigarette lit easily, +being of a good kind, and the same light did him equal service.</p> + +<p>“How do you find it?” he asked presently.</p> + +<p>“I find it horrible,” she gasped; “but my husband never would have +allowed it, and so I shall go through with it to the bitter—the +<em>awfully</em> bitter—other end.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t stick to it if it makes you feel badly,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span>” he said a little +anxiously; “remember you have the whole wide ocean before you.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Rosina, “I—I was just thinking of that.”</p> + +<p>“Are you apt to be seasick?”</p> + +<p>“Sometimes I have to lie still a day or two.”</p> + +<p>“In your chair?”</p> + +<p>“In my berth.”</p> + +<p>“Please throw it away at once; I don’t want you to be lying still in +your berth a day or two on <em>this</em> voyage, you know.”</p> + +<p>There was a very earnest note in his voice; she took the cigarette from +between her lips and looked at it meditatively.</p> + +<p>“Do throw it overboard immediately,” he begged.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I couldn’t.”</p> + +<p>“But I entreat!”</p> + +<p>Then she began to laugh.</p> + +<p>“It isn’t the cigarette that I can’t manage,—it’s the throw!”</p> + +<p>He sprang to his feet with one vast and comprehensive untuck.</p> + +<p>“A thousand pardons! Give it to me.”</p> + +<p>She held it out and he took it to the rail. The offshore breeze was +growing into a wind that blew the stars out as fast as they appeared +and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> caused the bosom of the ocean to appear unduly agitated.</p> + +<p>“Let us walk about a bit,” he suggested, coming back, and noting a +certain vagueness in her expression; “come, it’s the best thing for us +both,—exercise, you know.”</p> + +<p>She smiled faintly.</p> + +<p>“I think so too; if you’ll just unswathe me, please.”</p> + +<p>He extricated her, and they made the tour of the deck three times.</p> + +<p>“Do you get off at Plymouth?” he asked, when they finally came to a +standstill beside their own chairs again.</p> + +<p>“No, at Cherbourg.”</p> + +<p>“And then Paris?”</p> + +<p>“Naturally.”</p> + +<p>“And then?”</p> + +<p>“Anywhere I want to.”</p> + +<p>“I’m going to Hamburg and then to Berlin; with me it’s a case of +business first and pleasure afterwards.”</p> + +<p>“Berlin’s a nice place,” she said thoughtfully; “I’ve been there twice.”</p> + +<p>“Wouldn’t you enjoy going there again?”</p> + +<p>“No.” She shook her head. “No, I don’t believe that I should. You see I +went to Berlin both times with my husband, and my present state<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> of mind +is such that if I think Berlin will recall my husband to me, I’d rather +remain permanently in Cherbourg.”</p> + +<p>She stooped and gathered up her rugs preparatory to building a new nest.</p> + +<p>“Did you travel much with your husband,” he asked, taking the nest +materials from her and sorting them over his arm.</p> + +<p>“Yes, I did.” She sat down in the chair. “I travelled a great deal with +him; but I intend to travel a great deal more now that I’m without him.”</p> + +<p>The man was busy with her cloak and pillows and rugs. They were quite a +combination, and the combining was rather a dangerous occupation, the +lateness of the hour considered. He lost his head just a little bit.</p> + +<p>“You might some day have another,” he suggested in a tone low enough to +be thrilling to the thrillable.</p> + +<p>Rosina squared herself smilelessly, and the electric deck-light which +faced her seat showed up her sobriety in unmistakable colors.</p> + +<p>“Watch me!” she said briefly, and her enunciation was clear and very +distinct.</p> + +<p>He heard.</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span>Chapter Two</h2> + + +<p class="cap">THERE was at that particular date a man in Düsseldorf who was quite as +set in his ideas as Rosina was in hers. He was lingering from day to day +at the Hotel Heck, engaged for the most part in no more arduous pursuit +than the awaiting of a telegram from his family. His family were at +Evian, on the Lac de Génève, and if they decided to go from there to +Paris, he wanted very much to visit Switzerland himself. But if, on the +contrary, they merely ended in transferring their abode from Evian to +Ouchy, as was very likely to prove to be the case, he had fully made up +his mind to pass the early summer months in Leipsic. In Leipsic he had +an interest—the one great interest of his existence. The family had but +scant sympathy with the force of the Leipsic attraction; their ambitions +were set in quite another direction, and all their hopes and plans and +wishes were bent to the accomplishment of that one end. They desired +most ardently that he should take unto himself a wife, because he was +the last of his race, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> there was a coronet hung up in the skies +above his head. The natural effect of such anxiety upon the uncommon +temperament of this particularly uncommon man was to decide him +definitely to remain single forever, and because he had always proved +himself of a strength of resolve and firmness of purpose quite +unequalled in their experience, they felt justified in the gravest fears +that in this case, as in all others, he would remain steadfast, keeping +the word which he declared that he had solemnly pledged himself, and so +become the last of a line whose castle had crowned the crag which it +defended since the Goth was abroad in the land.</p> + +<p>To be sure, he was not yet so old but that, when he casually glanced at +a girl, the girl, her mother, and his mother all immediately held their +breath. But he was old enough to have proved the futility of the hope by +the casualty of the glance over and over again. And so his people were +completely out of patience with him, and he and they found it +accordingly more agreeable to take even their Switzerland in individual +communion-cups. Therefore he remained in Düsseldorf, wandering in the +Hofgarten, listening to the music in the Tonhalle, and occasionally +quieting his impatience for the Lake of Lucerne, where his childhood had +been passed, by writing a few<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> pages to Leipsic, the scene of his +studies and the spot where his one incentive to labor dwelt.</p> + +<p>After three weeks of manifold hesitation the family at last concluded to +let it be Paris, and thus Southeastern Europe was thrown open to the +recalcitrant. It being now quite middle June, he took his way southward +with a leisure born of the warm summer sun, and spent a month <em>en +route</em>. The Storks of Strasbourg and the Bears of Berne both ate of his +bread before the final definite checking of his trunks for Lucerne took +place. But the cry at his heart for the Vierwaldstattersee and the +Schweizerhof became of a strength beyond resisting, and so he turned his +back upon the Jungfrau and his face towards the Rigi, and slept beneath +the mist-wreaths of Mount Pilatus that very night.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>It was the next morning that Rosina, walking on the Quai with an +American man (not the one on the “Kronprinz,” however), first observed +an especially tall and striking-looking individual, and wondered who he +was. With her the wonder was always straightway followed by the ask, so +she voiced her curiosity forthwith.</p> + +<p>“That man?” said her companion, turning to make sure who she was +referring to, “that dark man with the gray gloves? oh, that’s Von<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> Ibn. +He’s to be very great indeed some day, I’m given to understand.”</p> + +<p>“Hasn’t he stopped growing yet?”</p> + +<p>“There is ‘great’ and ‘great,’ you know. He is in for both kinds, it +appears.”</p> + +<p>“Because of his ‘von’?” demanded Rosina, whose thirst for knowledge was +occasionally insatiable.</p> + +<p>“No, because of his violin.”</p> + +<p>“Does he play?”</p> + +<p>“You show ignorance by asking such a question.”</p> + +<p>“He plays well, then?—is known?”—</p> + +<p>“He is a composer.”</p> + +<p>She turned abruptly to the side and sank down on one of the numerous +seats before which the endless procession of morning promenaders were +ceaselessly defiling.</p> + +<p>“Let me look at him!” she cried below her breath; “how more than +interesting! He appears just as one might imagine that Paganini did +before he made his famous bargain.”</p> + +<p>The American stood beside her and waited for the object of their +watching to turn and pass again. He was quite willing to humor his +charming country-woman in any way possible. He did not care who she +might take a fancy to, for he was himself engaged to a girl at Smith +College,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> and men who fall in love with college girls are nearly always +widow-proof.</p> + +<p>Presently Von Ibn came strolling back. He was very tall, as befitted one +half of his name, and very dark, as befitted the other, and around his +rather melancholy eyes were those broad spaces which give genius room to +develop as it will. He had black hair, a black moustache, and a chin +which bore witness to the family opposition. Rosina, who chanced to be a +connoisseur in chins, looked upon his with deep approval.</p> + +<p>“Do you know him?” she asked, looking up at the man beside her; “oh, if +you do, I do so wish that you would present him to me. He looks so +utterly fascinating; I am sure that I shall like to talk to him.”</p> + +<p>The American appeared frankly amused.</p> + +<p>“I should really enjoy seeing you turned loose upon Von Ibn,” he said, +“it would be such wild sport.”</p> + +<p>“Then be nice and bring him to me, and you can have all the fun of +standing by and watching us worry one another.”</p> + +<p>Her friend hesitated.</p> + +<p>“What is it?” she asked impatiently; “why don’t you go? Is there any +reason why I may not meet him? Is he a gambler who doesn’t settle fair? +Has he deserted his own wife, or run<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> away with any other man’s? Does he +lie, or drink beyond the polite limit, or what?”</p> + +<p>“Why, the truth is,” said the American slowly, “many people consider him +an awful bore. The fact is, he’s most peculiar. I’ve had him stare at me +time and again in a way that made me wonder if he was full-witted. I +don’t know anything worse against him than that, though.”</p> + +<p>“If that’s all,” Rosina answered, laughing, “you need not fear for me. +I’ve lived in good society too many years not to know how to deal with a +bore. A little idiosyncrasy like that will not mar my enjoyment one bit. +Do go and get him now.”</p> + +<p>“But some consider him a very big bore indeed.”</p> + +<p>“One can see that at the first glance, and just on that account I shall +have infinite patience with him.”</p> + +<p>“I warn you beforehand that he’s very much of a character.”</p> + +<p>“I always did like characters better than people who were well-behaved.”</p> + +<p>The American took one step away and then halted.</p> + +<p>“Your mind is set upon meeting him?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, quite; and do hurry. He may disappear.”</p> + +<div class="link"><a name="she" id="she"> </a></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 391px;"><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> +<img src="images/gs02.jpg" class="jpg" width="391" height="600" alt="" title="" /><br /> +<span class="caption">“She rose to receive them with radiant countenance”</span> +</div> + +<p>He laughed.</p> + +<p>“Possess yourself in patience for five short minutes,” he began, but she +cut his speech off.</p> + +<p>“There, there, never mind; while you’re talking he’ll take a train or a +boat, and I’ll be left to go geniusless to my grave.”</p> + +<p>He lifted his hat at once then and walked away without another word, +although inwardly he marvelled much that any woman should care about +meeting that man—that particular man; for he was one of those whom the +man bored out and out.</p> + +<p>The Schweizerhof Quai is long, but not so long but that you may meet any +one for whom you chance to be searching within ten minutes of the time +of your setting out. The young American was favored by good luck, and in +less than half that time returned to Rosina’s bench, his capture safely +in tow. She rose to receive them with the radiant countenance of a +doll-less child who is engaged in negotiating the purchase of one which +can both walk and talk. Indeed her joy was so delightfully spontaneous +and unaffected that a bright reflection of it appeared in the shadows of +those other eyes which were now meeting hers for the first time.</p> + +<p>“Shall we walk on?” she suggested; “that is the pleasantest, to walk and +talk, don’t you think?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span>Von Ibn stood stock-still before her.</p> + +<p>“What will monsieur do?” he asked, with a glance at the other man.</p> + +<p>“He will enjoy walking,” Rosina answered.</p> + +<p>“But I shall not. I find nothing so tiresome as trying to walk with two +people. One must always be leaning forward to hear, or else hearing what +is not amusing.”</p> + +<p>After which astonishing beginning he waited, pulling his moustache as he +contemplated them both. The American glanced at Rosina as much as to +say, “There, I told you that he was the worst ever!” But Rosina only +smiled cheerfully, saying to her countryman:</p> + +<p>“Since Herr von Ibn feels as he does, I think <em>you’d</em> better go and +study the Lion or meditate the glaciers, and leave me here with this +lion to do either or both.”</p> + +<p>The American laughed. He might not have been so amused except that he +knew that she knew all about the girl in Smith College. Such things +count sadly against one’s popularity, and being a man of sense he +recognized the fact.</p> + +<p>“At your service, madame,” he said; “I’m going to turn the care of you +over to our friend for the remainder of the promenade hour. He will no +doubt appreciate to the fullest extent the honor of the transferred +charge.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span>Von Ibn bowed.</p> + +<p>“I do appreciate,” he said gravely; “thank you. Good-morning.”</p> + +<p>Then as the other walked away he turned to Rosina.</p> + +<p>“Was I impolite to him?” he asked, in quite the tone of an old and +intimate friend.</p> + +<p>“Yes, very,” she answered, nodding.</p> + +<p>“You are then displeased?”</p> + +<p>“Not at all; I wanted him to go myself.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, yes,” he exclaimed eagerly, “you feel as I. Is it not always +<em>ungemüthlich</em>, three people together?”</p> + +<p>“Always.”</p> + +<p>He glanced about them at the crowd of passers-by.</p> + +<p>“It is not pleasant here; let us take a walk by the river, and then we +can talk and come to know each one the other,”—he paused—“well,” he +added.</p> + +<p>“Do you really want to know me—well?” she asked, imitating his pause +between the last two words.</p> + +<p>“Yes, very much. I saw you in the hotel this morning when you came down +the stair, and I wanted to know you then. And just now when we passed on +the Quai I felt the want become much greater.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span>“And I wanted to know you,” she said, looking and speaking with +delicious frankness. “I wanted to know you because of your music.”</p> + +<p>“Because of my music!” he repeated quickly; “you are then of interest in +the music? you are yourself perhaps a musician?” and he turned a glance, +as deep as it was burning, upon her face.</p> + +<p>“A very every-day musician,” she replied, lifting her smile to his deep +attention. “I can accompany the musician and I can appreciate him, that +is all.”</p> + +<p>“But that is quite of the best—in a woman,” he exclaimed earnestly. +“The women were not meant to be the genius, only to help him, and rest +him after his labor.”</p> + +<p>“Really!”</p> + +<p>“Of a surety.”</p> + +<p>“But what made you want to know me?” she continued. “I had a good reason +for desiring your acquaintance, but you can have had no equally good one +for desiring mine.”</p> + +<p>“No,” he said quickly and decidedly; “that is, of an undenying, most +true.” He knit his brows and reflected for the space of time consumed in +passing nine of the regularly disposed trees which shade the boulevard +just there, for they were now moving slowly in the direction of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> the +bridges, and then he spoke. “I do not know just why, yet I am glad that +it is to be.”</p> + +<p>“Would you have asked some one to introduce you if I had not sent for +you?”</p> + +<p>He thought again, this time for the space of six trees only, then:</p> + +<p>“No, I do not think so.”</p> + +<p>“Why not? since you wanted to meet me.”</p> + +<p>“I never get myself made known to any one, because if I did that, then +later, when they weary me, as they nearly always do, I must blame myself +only.”</p> + +<p>“Do most people weary you—later.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, so very much,” he declared, with a sincerity that drew no veil over +the truth of his statement.</p> + +<p>Rosina, remembering the American’s views in regard to him, stifled a +smile.</p> + +<p>“Our friend,” she asked, “the man who presented you to me, you know, +does he weary you?”</p> + +<p>Von Ibn frowned.</p> + +<p>“But he is a very terrible bore,” he said; “you surely know that, since +you know him.”</p> + +<p>Then she could but laugh outright.</p> + +<p>“And I, monsieur,” she demanded merrily, “tell me, do you think that I +too shall some day—?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span>He looked at her in sudden, earnest anxiety.</p> + +<p>“I hope otherwise,” he declared fervently.</p> + +<p>While talking they had passed the limits of the Quai, crossed the big, +sunny square, and come to the embankment that leads to the foot-bridge. +The emerald-green Reuss rushed beside them with a smooth rapidity which +seemed to hush the tumult of its swift current far underneath the +rippling surface. The old stone light-house—the town’s traditionary +godfather—stood sturdily for its rights out in mid-stream, and helped +support the quaint zigzag of that most charming relic of the past, the +longest wooden foot-bridge of Lucerne. A never-ending crowd of all ages +and sexes and conditions of natives and strangers were mounting and +descending its steps, hurrying along its crooked passage, or craning +their necks to study the curious pictures painted in the wooden +triangles of its pointed roof.</p> + +<p>“I like the bridge better than I do the Lion,” Rosina remarked; “I think +it is much more interesting.”</p> + +<p>Von Ibn was looking down into the water where they had stopped by the +bridge’s steps. He did not pay any attention to what she said, and after +a minute she spoke again.</p> + +<p>“What do you think?”</p> + +<p>He made no answer. She turned her eyes in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> the direction of his and +wondered what he was looking at. He appeared to be lost in a study of +the Reuss.</p> + +<p>“Do you always think before you speak,” she said, somewhat amused, “or +are you doing mental exercises?”</p> + +<p>But still no reply.</p> + +<p>Then she too kept still. Her eyes wandered to a certain building on her +left, and she reflected that necessity would shortly be driving her +there with her letter of credit; but further reflection called to her +mind the fact that she had intrusted Ottillie with a hundred-franc note +to change that morning, and that would be enough to carry her over +Sunday. The Gare across the water then attracted her attention, and she +reviewed a last week’s journey on the St. Gotthard railway, and recalled +the courtesy of a certain Englishman who had raised and lowered her +window not once but perhaps twenty times. And then her gaze fell upon +the skirt of her dress, which was a costume most appropriate for the +Quai but much too delicate for a promiscuous stroll through the town +streets.</p> + +<p>“That is superficial!” Von Ibn suddenly declared.</p> + +<p>She quite started.</p> + +<p>“What is superficial?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span>“Your comparison. You may not compare them at all.”</p> + +<p>“May not compare what?”</p> + +<p>“The bridge and the Lion. The bridge is a part of life out of the Middle +Ages, and the Lion is a masterpiece of Thorwaldsen.”</p> + +<p>Rosina simply stared at him.</p> + +<p>“Is that what you have been thinking of all this long time?” she asked +in astonishment.</p> + +<p>“Was it so long?”</p> + +<p>“I thought so.”</p> + +<p>“What did you think of in that so long time?”</p> + +<p>She told him about the bank, and the Englishman on the Gotthardbahn, and +her dress. He smiled.</p> + +<p>“How <em>drôle</em> a woman is!” he murmured, half to himself.</p> + +<p>“But I think that you are droll too,” she told him.</p> + +<p>“Oh,” he said energetically, “I assure you, madame, you do not as yet +divine the tenth part of <em>my</em> drollness.”</p> + +<p>She smiled.</p> + +<p>“Do you think that I shall ever become sufficiently well acquainted with +you to learn it all?”</p> + +<p>He regarded her seriously.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span>“If you interest me,” he remarked, “I shall naturally see much of you, +because we shall be much together. How long do you stay in Lucerne?”</p> + +<p>“Until Monday. I leave on Monday.”</p> + +<p>He looked at her in dismay.</p> + +<p>“But I do not want to leave on Monday. I have only come the last night. +I want to stay two weeks.”</p> + +<p>She felt herself forced to bite her lips, even as she replied:</p> + +<p>“But you <em>can</em> stay two weeks, monsieur.”</p> + +<p>He looked blank.</p> + +<p>“And you go?”</p> + +<p>“Naturally; but what does that matter? You would not be going where I +went anyway.”</p> + +<p>“Where do you go?”</p> + +<p>“To Zurich.”</p> + +<p>“Alone? Do you go alone?”</p> + +<p>“I have my maid, of course; and I am to meet a friend there.”</p> + +<p>“A friend!” His whole face contracted suddenly. “Ah,” he cried, sharply, +“I understand! It is that Englishman.”</p> + +<p>“What Englishman?” she asked, utterly at a loss to follow his thought.</p> + +<p>“Your friend.”</p> + +<p>“But he’s an American.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28])</a></span>“You said he was an Englishman.”</p> + +<p>“I never did! How could I? Why, can’t you tell at once that he is an +American by the way that he talks?”</p> + +<p>“I never have hear him talk.”</p> + +<p>She stared afresh, then turned to walk on, saying, “You must be crazy! +or aren’t you speaking of the man who presented you to me?”</p> + +<p>“Why should I be of any interest as to that man? Naturally it is of the +Englishman that I speak.”</p> + +<p>“What Englishman?”</p> + +<p>“But that Englishman upon the Gotthardbahn, of course; the one you have +said was so nice to you.”</p> + +<p>She began to laugh.</p> + +<p>“Oh, pardon me, but you are so funny, you are really so very funny;” +then pressing her handkerchief against her rioting lips, “you will +forgive me for laughing, won’t you?”</p> + +<p>He did not smile in the least nor reply to her appeal for forgiveness; +he only waited until she was quiet, and then went on with increased +asperity veiled in his tone.</p> + +<p>“You are to see him again, <em>n’est-ce pas</em>?”</p> + +<p>“I never expect to.”</p> + +<p>“Really?”</p> + +<p>“Really.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29])</a></span>He stopped short and offered her his hand.</p> + +<p>“Why?” she asked in surprise.</p> + +<p>“Your word that you do not hope to meet him again.”</p> + +<p>She began to laugh afresh.</p> + +<p>Then, still holding out his hand, he repeated insistently.</p> + +<p>“Tell me that you do not expect to meet him again.”</p> + +<p>They were in one of the steep, narrow streets that lie beyond the +bridges and lead up to the city wall. It was still, still as the desert; +she looked at him, and his earnestness quelled her sense of humor over +the absurdity of the situation.</p> + +<p>“What shall I say to you?” she asked.</p> + +<p>“Tell me that you do not expect to meet him again.”</p> + +<p>“Certainly I do not expect to meet him again; although, of course, I +might meet him by chance at any time.”</p> + +<p>He looked into her face with an instant’s gravest scrutiny, and then +some of his shadow lifted; with the hand that he had held out he +suddenly seized hers.</p> + +<p>“You are truthfully not caring for him, <em>n’est-ce pas</em>?” he demanded.</p> + +<p>Rosina pulled her hand from his grasp.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span>“Of course not,” she said emphatically. “Why, I never saw the man but +just that once.”</p> + +<p>“But one may be much interested in once only.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, that is true. I know it. Do not laugh, but give me your hand and +swear that he does not at all interest you now.”</p> + +<p>She did not give him her hand, but she raised her eyes to the narrow +strip of blazing sky that glowed above the street and said solemnly:</p> + +<p>“I swear upon my word and honor that I do not take the slightest +interest in that English gentleman who so kindly raised and lowered my +windows when I was on the St. Gotthard last week.”</p> + +<p>Von Ibn drew a breath of relief.</p> + +<p>“I am so glad,” he said; and then he added, “because really, you know, +it had not been very nice in you to interest yourself only for the +getting up of your window.”</p> + +<p>“He put it down too,” she reminded him.</p> + +<p>“That is quite nothing—to put a window down. It is to raise them up +that is to every one such labor on the Gotthardbahn. To let them down is +not hard; very often mine have fell alone. And much smoke came in.”</p> + +<p>Rosina walked on and looked the other way,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> because she felt a need of +so doing for a brief space. Her escort strolled placidly at her side, +all his perturbation appearing to have vanished into thin air with the +satisfactory disposal of the English problem. They came to the top of +the street and saw the old town-wall and its towers before them. The sun +was very hot indeed, and the tourists in cabs all had their parasols +raised.</p> + +<p>“I think we had better return,” she said, pausing in the last patch of +shade.</p> + +<p>Von Ibn looked at his watch.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” he said, “we must; <em>déjeuner</em> is there now.”</p> + +<p>So they turned down into the town, taking another of the steep, little +streets, so as to vary the scenery of their route. After a little he +spoke again.</p> + +<p>“And you are sure that you go Monday?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, indeed.”</p> + +<p>“To Zurich, and then to where?”</p> + +<p>“Then to Constance.”</p> + +<p>“And then?”</p> + +<p>“I do not know where we shall go next.”</p> + +<p>He started slightly, and a fresh cloud overspread his face.</p> + +<p>“Much pleasure to you,” he said, almost savagely.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32])</a></span>She looked up quickly, surprised at his tone, but her answer was spoken +pleasantly enough.</p> + +<p>“Thank you; and the same to you—all summer long.”</p> + +<p>In response he shrugged his shoulders so fiercely as to force her to +notice the movement.</p> + +<p>“Why do you shrug your shoulders like that?” she demanded.</p> + +<p>“I am amused.”</p> + +<p>“You don’t look amused.”</p> + +<p>He raised his eyebrows.</p> + +<p>“I am amused to see that all women are the same; I have that thought +just now.”</p> + +<p>“Are you in the habit of shrugging your shoulders whenever that thought +occurs to you?”</p> + +<p>He tossed his head to one side.</p> + +<p>“Women are all the same,” he repeated impatiently.</p> + +<p>“In what way?”</p> + +<p>“They can never tell the truth!”</p> + +<p>“What makes you say that?”</p> + +<p>“You.”</p> + +<p>“I?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>She felt very nearly vexed.</p> + +<p>“Please explain,” she commanded.</p> + +<p>He simply gave another shrug.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33])</a></span>She decided to keep her temper.</p> + +<p>“I might be clever enough to read minds,” she said mildly, “and still be +dense about divining shoulders; I confess I miss the point that you’re +trying to make with yours.”</p> + +<p>He was silent.</p> + +<p>She glanced sideways at him and was thoroughly startled at the black +humor displayed in his countenance.</p> + +<p>“What is really the matter?” she asked, anxiously.</p> + +<p>“Nothing.”</p> + +<p>She gave him another quick look, and saw that he saw her look and +avoided it. Then she was angry at such poor taste displayed in the first +hour of a new acquaintance, and almost thought of turning from him and +insisting on being left to return to the Schweizerhof alone. But +something kept her impulse in check.</p> + +<p>“He is a genius,” she thought, “and they are entirely different from +other men,” so she waited a moment and then spoke with the utmost +earnestness.</p> + +<p>“Please tell me what it all means, monsieur; why are you like this?”</p> + +<p>“Because,”—he cried with a sudden passionate outburst of +feeling,—“because you have lied to me!”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34])</a></span>“Monsieur!” she exclaimed, in a shocked voice.</p> + +<p>“You have done that,” he cried; “you have lift your eyes to heaven and +swear that you were not interested in him, and then—” he stopped, and +put his hands to either side of his collar as if it strangled him.</p> + +<p>She grew pale at the sight of his emotion.</p> + +<p>“Is it that man still?” she asked.</p> + +<p>“But naturally it is that man still! <em>Je ne me fâche jamais sans +raison.</em>”</p> + +<p>“But what is there new to worry about him?”</p> + +<p>She dared not contemplate smiling, instead she felt that the Englishman +was rapidly becoming the centre of a prospective tragedy.</p> + +<p>Von Ibn scowled until his black brows formed a terrible V just over his +eyes.</p> + +<p>“You do expect to see him in Zurich,” he declared.</p> + +<p>“But I told you that I didn’t.”</p> + +<p>He laughed harshly.</p> + +<p>“I know; but you betrayed yourself so nicely.”</p> + +<p>“How?”</p> + +<p>“Just now, when I say where do you go from Constance, you quite forget +your part, and you say, ‘I do not know where <em>we</em> shall go next.’ Yes, +that is what you say, ‘We—<em>we</em>!’”</p> + +<p>“And if I did.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35])</a></span>“But of a surety you did; and I must laugh in my interior when I hear +your words.”</p> + +<p>“Oh,” she exclaimed quickly, “you must not say that you laughed in your +interior, it isn’t good English.”</p> + +<p>“Where must I laugh within myself?”</p> + +<p>“We say, ‘I laughed <em>to</em> myself.’”</p> + +<p>He gave another shrug, as if her correction was too petty a matter to +rightfully command attention at that crisis.</p> + +<p>“This all does seem so foolish,” she said, “the idea of again having an +explanation.”</p> + +<p>“I do not care for you to explain,” he interrupted.</p> + +<p>“Don’t you want to know what I meant?”</p> + +<p>“I know quite well what you meant.”</p> + +<p>“I meant my maid, she always travels with me.”</p> + +<p>He looked his thorough disbelief.</p> + +<p>“Very pretty!” he commented.</p> + +<p>She glanced at him and wondered why she was not disgusted, but instead +her heart swelled with a pity for the unhappiness that overlaid the +doubt in his face.</p> + +<p>“Just think,” she said softly, “our friendship is so very young, and you +are already so very angry.”</p> + +<p>“I am not angry; what I feel is justified.”</p> + +<p>“Because I call my maid and myself ‘we’!”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36])</a></span>He stopped short, and held out his hand.</p> + +<p>“Will you say that it is only the maid?”</p> + +<p>Then she felt sure that she should be obliged to scream outright, even +while she was summoning all her self-control to the rescue.</p> + +<p>They were come to an angle where two streets met steeply and started +thence on a joint pitch into the centre of the town. She ran her eyes +quickly up and down each vista of cobblestones, and, seeing no one that +she knew either near or far, put her hand into his.</p> + +<p>“Upon my word and honor,” she declared, with all the gravity which the +occasion seemed to demand, “I swear that when I leave Constance my maid +will be my only—”</p> + +<p>“<em>Assez, assez!</em>” he interrupted, hastily dropping her hand, “it is not +need that you swear that. I can see your truth, and I have just think +that it may very well come about that I shall chance to be in Constance +and wish to take the train as you. It would then be most misfortunate if +you have swear alone with your maid. It is better that you swear +nothing.”</p> + +<p>This kaleidoscopic turn to the conversation quite took Rosina’s breath +away, and she remained mute.</p> + +<p>“What hotel in Constance do you stop at?” he asked presently.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span>“The Insel House, of course.”</p> + +<p>He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a note-book.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps I will want to remember,” he said, as he wrote. Then he put up +the book and smiled into her eyes; he had a beautiful smile, warm and +winning. “I find that we are very <em>sympathique</em>,” he went on, “that is +why I may perhaps come to see you again. People who can enjoy together +are not many.”</p> + +<p>“Have you enjoyed this morning? I thought you had not at all.”</p> + +<p>“But, yes,” he protested gravely, “I enjoy it very much. How could you +think otherwise?”</p> + +<p>She felt silence to be safest, and made no reply. He too was silent for +a little, and then spoke suddenly.</p> + +<p>“Oh, because of that Englishman! But that is all over now. We will never +speak of him again. Only it is most fortunate that I am not of a jealous +temperament, or I might very well have really offended me that you talk +so much about him.”</p> + +<p>“It is fortunate,” she agreed.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” he answered, “for me it was very good.”</p> + +<p>They had come to the crossing of the great square, and the sunlight was +dazzling and dancing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> upon the white stones of the bridge and the molten +gold of the Vierwaldstattersee. The Promenade was deserted and even its +shade was unpleasantly warm.</p> + +<p>“Shall I see you this afternoon?” Von Ibn asked as they went leisurely +through the heat.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps.”</p> + +<p>“I wish it was after the <em>déjeuner</em>,” he said, looking out upon the lake +and the crest of the mountain beyond.</p> + +<p>She wondered if she had better say “Why,” or not, and finally decided to +say it. He brought his eyes back from the Rigi and looked at her.</p> + +<p>“Because I have the habit of always sleeping after <em>déjeuner</em>,” he +explained.</p> + +<p>They crossed to the hotel. It was late, and more people were coming down +in the lifts than going up.</p> + +<p>“Are you tired?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“Yes, I think that I am—a little.”</p> + +<p>“I advise you to sleep too,” he said gravely.</p> + +<p>“I always do.”</p> + +<p>“So,” he cried triumphantly, “you see I say the truth when I say that we +are very <em>sympathique</em>!”</p> + +<p>Rosina looked up at him and her eyes danced; he returned the look with a +responsive glow in his own big pupils.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39])</a></span>“I am so glad we meet,” he exclaimed impulsively.</p> + +<p>She stepped out of the lift and turned to dismiss him.</p> + +<p>“And you?” he asked, bowing above her hand.</p> + +<p>“I’m glad too,” she said, and her tone was most sincere.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2>Chapter Three</h2> + + +<p class="cap">LATE in the afternoon of the same day Ottillie, coming in to wake her +mistress from a nap which the morning’s long walk had resulted in +stretching to a most unusual duration, brought with her a great bunch of +those luxuriantly double violets which brim over with perfume and +beauty. There was also a note, very short, and couched in a flawless +French.</p> + +<p>If one must be roused out of a delicious sleep on a warm June day, +surely violets, and such a note as accompanied these particular violets, +were the least disagreeable means ever invented for accomplishing that +end. Rosina’s frown for Ottillie changed into a smile for some one else, +and she rose from among her pillows and submitted to her toilet with a +good grace. Ottillie, who was French enough and experienced enough never +to need to be told things, divined what the note must have contained the +second time that she saw her mistress glance at the clock, and so +accelerated her ordinary rate of movement that even the gown of lace +which appeared to fasten<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> nowhere, was fastened everywhere ere the town +bells rang five.</p> + +<p>A few minutes after, a <em>garçon</em> in the hotel livery brought up a card, +and, Continental etiquette made it quite <em>en règle</em> for Monsieur von Ibn +to be ushered into the dainty little salon which the Schweizerhof +permitted Rosina to enjoy (for a consideration), and there muse in +company with his own violets, while he waited and turned his cane over +and over in his gloved hands.</p> + +<p>Then Ottillie opened the portières beyond, and Rosina appeared between +them, delightfully cool and fresh-looking, and flatteringly glad to see +him.</p> + +<p>“We seem like quite long friends, do we not?” he said, as he bent above +her hand and kissed it lightly.</p> + +<p>“Yes, certainly, I feel that I have the sensation of at any rate three +weeks,” she answered; and then she sank luxuriously down in a great +<em>fauteuil</em>, and was conscious of an all-pervading well-content that it +should be too warm to go out, and that he should be there opposite her +while she must remain within. She was curious about this man who was so +out of the ordinary, and the path along which her curiosity led her +seemed a most attractive one.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span>“Why do you say three weeks,” he asked; “why not three months or three +years?”</p> + +<p>“But in three years one learns to know another so well, and I do not +feel—”</p> + +<p>“Oh,” he interrupted, “it is better as it is; perhaps you may be like I +am, and get weary always soon, and then have no longer any wish to see +me.”</p> + +<p>“Do you get tired of every one?”</p> + +<p>He passed his hand across his eyes and sighed and smiled together.</p> + +<p>“Yes, madame,” he said, and there was a sad note in his voice, “I get +often tired. And it is bad, because I must depend so deeply on who I +speak with for my mind to be able to work after. <em>Comprenez-vous?</em>”</p> + +<p>She made a movement of assent that he seemed to have paused for, and he +continued.</p> + +<p>“When I meet a stranger I must always wonder how soon I shall be +finished with him. It comes very soon with nearly all.”</p> + +<p>“And are you sure that you are always the weary one?”</p> + +<p>He looked blank for a moment, then,</p> + +<p>“I have already bore you; yes?”</p> + +<p>“Not at all, but I was warned this morning that you might possibly +commit such a crime.”</p> + +<p>“And have I?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43])</a></span>She looked on his earnestness and smiled.</p> + +<p>“Have I?” he reiterated; “yes?”</p> + +<p>Then she spoke suddenly.</p> + +<p>“Why do foreigners always say ‘yes’ at the end of every question that +they ask in English? I get so tired of it, it’s so superfluous. Why do +they do it?”</p> + +<p>He reflected.</p> + +<p>“It is polite,” he said, after a moment. “I ask you, ‘Do I bore you?’ +and then I ask you, ‘Do I?’”</p> + +<p>“But why do you think that it is polite to ask me twice?”</p> + +<p>He reflected again, and then replied:</p> + +<p>“You are equally droll in English; you are even more droll in English, I +think. You say, ‘You will go to walk, will you not?’ and the ’not’ +makes no sense at all.”</p> + +<p>It was her turn to reflect, and be forced to acquiesce.</p> + +<p>“Yes, that is true.”</p> + +<p>“And anyway,” he went on, “it is polite for me to ask you twice +anything, because that shows that I am twice anxious to please you.”</p> + +<p>“So!”</p> + +<p>“Yes;” he took a violet from the bowl at his side and began to unclose +its petals. “Why did he say that?” he asked, suddenly raising his eyes +from the flower to her.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44])</a></span>“He! who?”</p> + +<p>“Our friend.”</p> + +<p>“Why did he say what?”</p> + +<p>“Why did he say that I was stupid? I have never been but nice to him.”</p> + +<p>She looked startled.</p> + +<p>“He never said that you were stupid.”</p> + +<p>“You said that he told you that I was stupid.”</p> + +<p>“No, I did not. I said that he warned me that—”</p> + +<p>“Oh, it matters not,” he broke in, shrugging his shoulders slightly, +“<em>ça ne me fait rien</em>. What he may think of me matters me not at all. +<em>Pauvre garçon</em>, he is so most uninteresting himself that I cannot +expect interest from him. <em>Ecoutez-donc!</em> for him nothing exists but +golf; for him where golf is there is something, elsewhere there is +nothing anywhere. What did he say to me of Paris? he said that for him +Paris was nothing, because no one plays golf; he said he could throw a +dog all over the grounds any morning. I did not ask him what dog, or why +a dog, for I thought it was not truly a dog, but just his bad American +<em>argot</em>; and, if I must speak truth, pardon me that I find it very good +that so stupid a fellow finds me dull. If he found me amusing, I should +naturally know that I, too, must be a fool.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45])</a></span>He put the violet to his lips and smiled a little.</p> + +<p>“He speaks but English,” he added; “he knows but golf, he has been +around the world and has seen nothing. I am quite content to have such a +man despise me.”</p> + +<p>Then he was silent, biting the purple flower. Rosina rested her chin +upon her hand.</p> + +<p>“Please go on,” she said briefly, “I am listening.”</p> + +<p>He looked at her and smiled.</p> + +<p>“I do like Americans,” he went on, “and I see that all the women have +small waists, and do not grow so large so soon, but I do not see why +they do not learn many things and so become much more nice; why, for +example, are they so ignorant of all the world and think their own +country alone fine?”</p> + +<p>“Are we so?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, of a truth. Because I speak English I meet very many of America, +and they always want to talk, so naturally I must listen, because no one +can arrive at speaking louder surely. And so I must always hear how good +the light is in America, and how warm the houses are in America, and how +high the buildings are in America, and how much everything has +cost—always how much everything has cost; that is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span> always very +faithfully told to me. And while I listen I must feel how very narrow to +so speak is. And afterwards when I go on to hear how very poor the light +is here, and how very cold the hotels are here, I certainly must feel +how very ill-bred that is.”</p> + +<p>He paused to get a fresh violet, and then continued:</p> + +<p>“I see no possible beauty for a place of four walls fifty <em>mètres</em> high; +and there can be no health where all is so hot night and day; and so I +only listen and am content to be counted so stupid. Why do you go to +Zurich Monday?”</p> + +<p>The question terminated his monologue with such suddenness that she +started involuntarily.</p> + +<p>“Why do you ask?”</p> + +<p>“Naturally because I want to know.”</p> + +<p>“I go because I am anxious to be out of Switzerland before the first of +July.”</p> + +<p>“But Switzerland is very nice in July.”</p> + +<p>“I know; and it is also very crowded.”</p> + +<p>“Where shall you be in July?”</p> + +<p>“I am not sure; probably in the Tyrol.”</p> + +<p>He got up from his seat, went to the chimney-piece, lifted up a vase and +turned it about in his hand with a critical air. Then he faced her again +and said, with emphasis:</p> + +<p>“I shall remain here all summer.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47])</a></span>“In Lucerne?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; not perhaps always at the hotel, but somewhere on the lake. I am +born here.”</p> + +<p>“You are Swiss, then?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; if I am Swiss because I am born here.”</p> + +<p>“Were you born in Lucerne?”</p> + +<p>“No, but at a place which my father had then by Fluellen. It is for that +that I love the Vierwaldstattersee.”</p> + +<p>“I wish that I had been born here,” Rosina murmured thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>“Where are you born?”</p> + +<p>“In the fourth house of a row of sixteen, all just alike.”</p> + +<p>“How most American!”</p> + +<p>She laughed a little.</p> + +<p>“I amuse you?” he asked, with a look of pleased non-understanding.</p> + +<p>“Oh, so very much!”</p> + +<p>He came a little forward and smiled down at her.</p> + +<p>“We are really friends, are we not?”</p> + +<p>She looked into his big, earnest eyes.</p> + +<p>“I think so,” she answered simply, with a little nod.</p> + +<p>He moved slowly across the room and, going to the window, turned his +back upon her.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span>“It is cooler out now, let us go out and walk. I like to walk, and you +do too, do you not? yes?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, <em>please</em> stop saying ‘yes’ like that, it makes me so horribly +nervous.”</p> + +<p>He continued to look out of the window.</p> + +<p>“Are you nervous?” he said. “I am sorry, because it is very bad to be +nervous.”</p> + +<p>“I shall not be so if you will only cease tacking that ‘yes’ on to the +end of every question that you find occasion to ask me.”</p> + +<p>“What is ‘tacking’?” he asked, whirling around.</p> + +<p>“Attaching.”</p> + +<p>“Why did you not pronounce it plainly the first time?”</p> + +<p>She rose slowly from her seat and retouched the violets where he had +disturbed their carefully arranged disorder. He quitted the window and +approached her side.</p> + +<p>“I asked you to go out with me,” he reminded her; “will you go? Yes?—I +mean ‘No’?” he added in hasty correction.</p> + +<p>She bent above the flowers, just to see what he <em>would</em> say next.</p> + +<p>“Can you go to walk so,” he inquired, “or shall I go down and wait while +you undress?”</p> + +<p>She straightened up.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49])</a></span>“I can go out this way,” she told him; “I have only to get my hat.”</p> + +<p>“And you will go now?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, with pleasure.”</p> + +<p>“Is it long to get a hat? I will go down to wait for you, you know.”</p> + +<p>“It is five minutes.”</p> + +<p>“Is it really five minutes?” he asked anxiously; “or shall I be there +very much longer?”</p> + +<p>“If I say five minutes it will be five minutes.”</p> + +<p>He took his hat and cane in his left hand and extended the other to her +with a smile.</p> + +<p>“I will go and wait,” he said.</p> + +<p>She gave him her hand; he held it a minute, looking down into her eyes, +which wavered and fell before his.</p> + +<p>“<em>Comme vous êtes charmante!</em>” he exclaimed in a low voice, and, +bending, pressed a kiss (a most fervent one this time) upon the fingers +which he raised within his own.</p> + +<p>After which he left the room at once.</p> + +<p>Rosina caught a quick breath as she went in to where her maid sat +mending some lace.</p> + +<p>“Get my things, Ottillie, I am going out.”</p> + +<p>“What a beautiful color madame has,” Ottillie remarked, as she rose +hastily and went towards the wardrobe.</p> + +<p>Rosina looked at herself in the mirror. She<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> was forced to smile at what +she saw there, for the best cosmetic in the wide world is the knowledge +that the right person is waiting downstairs.</p> + +<p>“Do hurry, Ottillie,” she said impatiently, “and get me out a pretty, a +<em>very</em> pretty, hat; do you hear?”</p> + +<p>And then she felt with a glorious rush of joy how more than good life is +when June is fair, and one is young, and—</p> + +<p>“Where shall we walk?” he asked, when she came down to him.</p> + +<p>“On the Quai, of course. No one ever walks anywhere else.”</p> + +<p>“I do often, and we did this morning,” he replied, as they passed out +through the maze of tables and orange-trees that covered the terrace +before the hotel.</p> + +<p>“I should have said ‘no one who is anybody.’”</p> + +<p>He looked at her, a sadly puzzled trouble in his eyes.</p> + +<p>“Is it a joke you make there,” he asked, “or but your <em>argot</em>?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know,” she said, unfurling her parasol; “the question that I am +putting to myself just now is, why did not you raise this for me instead +of allowing me to do it for myself?”</p> + +<p>He looked at her fixedly.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51])</a></span>“Why should I do so? or is <em>that</em> a joke?”</p> + +<p>“No, I asked that in dead earnest.”</p> + +<p>“In dead—in dead—” he stammered hopelessly; “oh,” he exclaimed, +“perhaps it is that I am really stupid, after all.”</p> + +<p>“No, no,” she laughed; “it is I that am behaving badly. It amuses me to +tease you by using words that you do not understand.”</p> + +<p>“But that is not very nice of you,” he said, smiling. “Why do you want +to tease me?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know, but I do.”</p> + +<p>He laughed lightly.</p> + +<p>“We amuse ourselves together, <em>n’est-ce pas</em>?” he asked. “It is like +children to laugh and not know why. I find such pleasure very pleasant. +One cannot be always wise—above all, with a woman.”</p> + +<p>“I do not want to be wise,” she said, as they joined the promenading +crowd; “I much prefer to have my clothes fit well.”</p> + +<p>Then he laughed outright.</p> + +<p>“<em>Vous êtes si drôle!</em>” he said apologetically.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I don’t mind your laughing,” she said, “but I do wish that you +would walk on the other side.”</p> + +<p>“The other side of the street?” he asked, with surprise.</p> + +<p>“No, no; the other side of me.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52])</a></span>“Why should I not be on this side as well as on that?”</p> + +<p>“Because that’s the wrong one to be on.”</p> + +<p>“It is not! I am on the very right place.”</p> + +<p>“No; you should be between the lady and the street.”</p> + +<p>“Why?” he demanded, as he raised his hat to some one.</p> + +<p>“To protect her—me.”</p> + +<p>“To protect you how? Nothing will come up out of the lake to hurt you.” +Then he raised his hat to some people that she bowed to.</p> + +<p>“It isn’t that, it is that the outside is where the man should walk. +It’s the custom. It’s his proper place.”</p> + +<p>“No, it is not. I am proper where I am; I would be improper if I was +over there.”</p> + +<p>“In America men always walk on the outside.”</p> + +<p>“But we are not in America, we are in Lucerne, and that is Europe, and +for Europe I am right. <em>Mon Dieu</em>, do you think that I do not know!”</p> + +<p>Rosina shrugged her shoulders.</p> + +<p>“I am really distressed when we meet any Americans, because I am sure +that they think that you have not been well brought up.”</p> + +<p>Von Ibn shrugged <em>his</em> shoulders.</p> + +<p>“There are not many Americans here to think anything,” he said +carelessly, “and all the Europeans<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> whom we meet know that I am well +brought up whichever side I may choose to walk upon.” He bowed again to +some carriage people.</p> + +<p>She trailed her pace a little and then paused; he was such a temptation +that she could not resist.</p> + +<p>“I do wish,” she said earnestly, “that to please me you would do as I +ask you, just this once!”</p> + +<p>He stopped short and stared first at her and then at the lake.</p> + +<p>“I wonder,” he said slowly,—“I wonder if we are to be together ever +after these days?”</p> + +<p>“Why do you wonder that? Would you rather never see me again than do +something to please me?”</p> + +<p>“No, no,” he said hastily, a little shock in his tone, “but you must +understand that if we are to be much together I cannot begin with the +making of my obedience to suit you. And yet, if it is but for these two +days, I can very well do whatever you may wish.”</p> + +<p>He moved out of the line so as to think maturely upon such a weighty +matter. She covered her real interest in his meditations with an +excellent assumption of interest in the superb view before her. The Rigi +was towering there, and its crest and the crests of all its lofty +neighbors were brightly silvered by the descending sun. From<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span> Pilatus on +the right, away to the green banks of Weggis and Vitznau on the left, +the lake spread in blue and bronze, and by the opposite shore the +water’s calm was such that a ghostly Lucerne of the under-world lay +upside down just beneath its level, and mocked reality above by the +perfection of detail. Little bright-sailed boats danced here and there, +a large steamer was gliding into the landing by the Gare, and the music +from a band aboard came floating to their ears.</p> + +<p>That little gray mother-duck who raises so many families under the +shelter of the Schweizerhof Quai presently noticed these two silent +people, and, suspecting them of possessing superfluous bread, came +hastily paddling to the feast. It made Rosina feel badly to see the +patient little creature wait there below; but she was breadless, and +could only muse over the curious similarity of a woman’s lot with a +hungry duck’s, until the duck gave up in despair and paddled off, +leaving a possible lesson in her wake.</p> + +<p>“Oh dear!” she exclaimed then, “I’m going to Zurich Monday, and you’re +going to stay here all summer; we shall never meet again, so what is the +use of thinking so long over nothing!”</p> + +<p>Then he put his hand up, gave his moustache ends a twist, and turned to +walk on. He was still on the same side, and there was a sort of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span> +emphasis about his being there which made her want to laugh, even while +she recognized the fact that the under-current of the minute was a +strong one—stronger perhaps than she was understanding just then.</p> + +<p>“You don’t feel altogether positive as to your summer plans, I see?” she +queried, with a little glance of fun.</p> + +<p>“I never am positive,” he said, almost grimly. “I will never bind myself +even by a thread. I must go free; no one must think to hold me.”</p> + +<p>“I’m sure I don’t want to hold you,” she laughed; “I think you are +dreadfully rude, but of course you can do what you please.”</p> + +<p>“You find me rude?” he asked soberly.</p> + +<p>“Yes, indeed, I think you are very rude. Here we are still on the first +day of our acquaintance, and you refuse absolutely to grant me such a +trifling request.”</p> + +<p>They had continued to follow the stone dalles of the embankment and were +now near the end of the Quai; he stopped short again, and again stared +at the mountains.</p> + +<p>“Ask me what you will,” he said, after a moment’s pause, “and you shall +have it; but to that first most absurd asking I shall always refuse.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56])</a></span>Her eyes began to dance.</p> + +<p>“If I asked you to buy me an automobile!” she ventured.</p> + +<p>He glanced at her quickly.</p> + +<p>“Do you ask me for an automobile?” he demanded.</p> + +<p>Her eyes wandered towards a certain shop on the other side of the +carriage way.</p> + +<p>“If I asked you for that necklace in the window there!”</p> + +<p>He raised his shoulders slightly.</p> + +<p>“Ladies prefer to buy their own necklaces,” he said briefly.</p> + +<p>She gave him a furtive look out of the corner of her eye.</p> + +<p>“Monsieur, suppose I beg you to take me back to the hotel and henceforth +never speak to me!”</p> + +<p>He did not appear in the slightest degree alarmed. Instead he put his +hand beneath her arm and turned her for another round of promenade.</p> + +<p>“I think the automobile will be best,” he said tranquilly. “I will find +you a good chauffeur, and you can go to Zurich on its wheels.”</p> + +<p>“I only said ‘if,’ you know,” she murmured.</p> + +<p>“Yes, I know,” he replied; “but an automobile is always useful.” He +thought a moment<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> and then added, “About how much will you choose to pay +for it?”</p> + +<p>In spite of herself she started and stared at him. He met her eyes with +a smile of mockery; Its innuendo was unbearable.</p> + +<p>“You know very well,” she burst forth impetuously, “that I would never +have thought of really accepting an automobile from you!”</p> + +<p>Then he laughed again with fresh amusement.</p> + +<p>“<em>Comme madame se fâche!</em>” he cried, “it is most droll! All that I may +say you will believe.”</p> + +<p>“I find you very exasperating,” Rosina exclaimed, her cheeks becoming +hotly pink; “you amuse yourself in a way that transcends politeness. I +honestly think that you are very rude indeed, and I <em>am</em> in earnest +now.”</p> + +<p>He made a careless movement with his head.</p> + +<p>“Would you have preferred that I should believe you really expect of me +an automobile?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“You could not possibly have thought that anyhow, and so why should you +have spoken as if you were afraid lest I might have meant it?”</p> + +<p>He rapped on a tree with his cane as he passed it.</p> + +<p>“‘Might,’ and ‘would,’ and ‘should,’” he said placidly, “those are +the hardest words for a stranger to learn correctly.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58])</a></span>She felt her temper slipping its anchor.</p> + +<p>“Probably when your tutor endeavored to teach you their difference you +feared that yielding to his way might be sacrificing your independence, +and so you refused to consider his instruction.”</p> + +<p>He struck another tree with his cane.</p> + +<p>“When you talk so fast and use such great words I cannot understand at +all,” he said calmly.</p> + +<p>Then she fairly choked.</p> + +<p>“Are you quite really angry?” he asked with curiosity. She turned her +face away and kept it averted.</p> + +<p>“Let us go into the café of the Nationale and dine,” he proposed +suddenly.</p> + +<p>“No,” she said quickly,—“no, I must go home at once. I have a dinner +engagement, and I must change my dress before I go.”</p> + +<p>“Then I shall not see you this evening?”</p> + +<p>“No” (very bitterly); “what a pity that will be!”</p> + +<p>“But to-morrow?”</p> + +<p>“I am going with a party to the Gutsch.”</p> + +<p>“But that will not be all day?”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps.”</p> + +<p>He hesitated in his step, and then came to a full stop.</p> + +<p>“Let us go up this little street,” he suggested. “I was there yesterday; +it is interesting really.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59])</a></span>She continued to walk on alone and he was obliged to rejoin her; then he +glanced downward somewhat anxiously.</p> + +<p>“We cannot speak here,” he said in a low tone, “we know so many people +that come against us each minute. Do walk with me up to the church +there, we cannot go to the hotel like this.”</p> + +<p>It is true that the Quai at Lucerne has a trick of slipping away beneath +one’s feet to the end that the hotel is forever springing up in one’s +face. At this moment it loomed disagreeably close at hand.</p> + +<p>“If you want to walk farther, monsieur, you will have to walk alone; I +am going home.”</p> + +<p>For answer he took her arm firmly in his and turned her across towards +the church street. Well-bred people do not have scenes on the +Schweizerhof Quai, so Rosina went where she was steered by the iron grip +on her elbow.</p> + +<p>The instant that they were out of the crowd his manner and voice altered +materially.</p> + +<p>“You must forgive me,” he pleaded. “I thought that you understood; I +thought that we were together amused; it was against my intention to +offend you.”</p> + +<p>She stopped and looked at a window full of carved bears and lions; +various expressions contended<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> in her face, but none of them were soft +or sweet.</p> + +<p>“You pardon me, do you not?” he went on, laying his fingers upon her +arm, while beneath his heavy eyelids there crept a look which his family +would have regarded as too good to be true.</p> + +<p>She shook the hand off quickly with an apprehensive glance at their +surroundings.</p> + +<p>“I ask you ten thousand pardons,” he repeated; “what can I do to make +you know my feeling is true?”</p> + +<p>She bit her lip, and then a sudden thought occurred to her. Her anger +took wings at once.</p> + +<p>“Will you walk back to the hotel on the outside,” she asked seriously, +looking up into his face.</p> + +<p>He gave a quick movement of surprise, and then made his customary pause +for decision.</p> + +<p>“How drolly odd women are,” he murmured presently, “and you are so very +oddly droll!”</p> + +<p>“But will you do it?” she repeated insistently.</p> + +<p>He took his cane and drew a line in the dust between two of the cement +blocks of the sidewalk, and then he lifted his eyes to hers with a smile +so sweet and bright, so liquidly warm and winning, that it metamorphosed +him for the nonce into a rarely handsome man.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span>Few women are proof against such smiles, or the men who can produce them +at will, and the remnants of Rosina’s wrath faded completely as she saw +its dawning. It seemed futile to try to be cross with any one who had +such magic in his face, and so she returned the glance in kind.</p> + +<p>“And you will walk home on the outside, will you not?” she asked, quite +secure as to his answer now.</p> + +<p>He laughed lightly and turned to continue on their way.</p> + +<p>“Of a surety not,” he said; “but we will be from now on very +<em>sympathique</em>, and never so foolishly dispute once more.”</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>At the dinner-party that evening was the young American who was engaged +to the girl at Smith College.</p> + +<p>“I saw you walking with Von Ibn this afternoon,” he said to Rosina as +they chanced together during the coffee-and-cigarette period.</p> + +<p>“Where?” she asked. “I don’t remember seeing you anywhere.”</p> + +<p>“No; he appeared to engross you pretty thoroughly. I feel that I ought +to warn you.”</p> + +<p>“What about?”</p> + +<p>“He isn’t a bit popular.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62])</a></span>“Poor man!”</p> + +<p>“None of the men ever have anything to do with him; you never see him +with any one, and it’s odd, because he talks English awfully well.”</p> + +<p>“What do you suppose they have against him?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, nothing in particular, I guess, only they don’t like him. He isn’t +interesting to any one.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, there I beg to differ with you,” she said quickly; “I saw him speak +to some one to-day who I am sure found him very interesting indeed.”</p> + +<p>“Who was it?”</p> + +<p>“Myself.”</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span>Chapter Four</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 8px;"> +<img src="images/quote.png" width="8" height="7" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p class="cap">HAVE you ever thought what is love and what is passion?”</p> + +<p>It was the man who spoke as they leaned against the rail of that +afternoon steamer which is scheduled to make port at the Quai by seven +o’clock, at the Gare by seven-ten.</p> + +<p>Rosina simply shook her head.</p> + +<p>“I am going to tell you that,” he said, turning his dark gaze down upon +the shadows in the wake behind them; “we part perhaps this night, and I +have a fancy to talk of just that. Perhaps it will come that we never +meet again, but when you love you will think of what I have say.”</p> + +<p>“I never shall love,” she said thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>He did not appear to hear her at all.</p> + +<p>“It is as this,” he said, his eyes glowing into the tossing foam below: +“many may love, and there may be very many loves; very few can know a +passion, and they can know but one. You may love, and have it for one +that is quite of another rank or all of another world, but one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> has a +passion only for what one may hope for one’s own. Love, that is a +feeling, a something of the heart,”—he touched his bosom as he spoke +but never raised his eyes,—“what I may have known,—or you. But +passion, that is only half a feeling, and the other half must be in some +other, or if it be not there it must be of a force put there, because +with passion there <em>must</em> be two, and one <em>must</em> find the other and +possess the other; that other heart must be, and must be won, and be +your own, and be your own all alone.” He paused a moment and took out +his cigarette case, and contemplated it and put it back. She leaned on +the rail and listened, undisturbed by the strength of his speech. In the +few short hours of their acquaintance the breadth of mutual +comprehension between them seemed to be widening at a ratio similar to +the circles spread by a stone striking still water.</p> + +<p>“I am going to speak to you in my tongue,” he went on presently, “I am +going to explain what I say with my music. Will you think to +understand?”</p> + +<p>“I will try,” she told him simply.</p> + +<p>“It is so easy there,” he said; “I think if I had but my violin I could +tell you all things. Because in music is all things. You must have feel +that yourself. Only I fear you must smile<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span> at my language—it is not so +easy to place your soul on a strange tongue.”</p> + +<p>“I shall not smile,” she reassured him, “I am deeply interested.”</p> + +<p>“That is good of you,” he replied, raising his head to cast a briefly +grateful glance at her, “if you may only really understand! For, just as +there are all colors for the painter to use, so are there all of the +same within music. There is from darkness far below the under bass to +the dazzle of sun in the high over the treble, and in between there are +gray, and rose, and rain, and twilight, so that with my bow I may make +you all a sad picture between the clefs or a gay one of flowers blooming +from G to upper C. And there is heat and cold there too,—one gasps in +the F flat down low and one shivers at the needle frost above high C. +And there are all feelings too. I may sing you to sleep, I may thunder +you awake, I may even steal your heart forever while you think to only +listen in pleasure.”</p> + +<p>“Not my heart,” said Rosina decidedly.</p> + +<p>“Ah, now it reminds me what I have begin to tell you,” he +exclaimed,—“of love and of passion. I must get some music and teach you +that. Do you know the ‘Souvenir’ of Vieuxtemps?” he asked her +abruptly.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span>“The ‘Souvenir d’Amérique’?”</p> + +<p>“No, no,” he said impatiently, “not one of those. ‘Le Souvenir’ it is. +Not of anything. Just alone. If we were only to be of some together I +would teach it to you; I have never teach any one, but I would trouble +me to teach you that.”</p> + +<p>Then he paused and, producing his <em>étui</em> for the second time, lit a +cigarette.</p> + +<p>“It is like this,” he went on, staring again upon the now rapidly +darkening waters, “you may learn all that I have begin to tell you there +in that one piece of music. There is love singing up and up in the +treble, and one listens and finds that nothing may be sweeter or of more +beauty, and then, most sudden and terrible there sounds there, below, a +cry, ‘E,—F,—F sharp,—G;’ and it is not a cry, rather a scream, +strength, force,—a Must made of the music,—and one perceives of a +lightning flash that all the love was but the background of the passion +of that cry of those four notes; and one listens, one trembles, one +feels that they were to come before they are there, and when they have +come, one can but shake and know their force.” He stopped and took his +cigarette from between his lips. “<em>Mon Dieu</em>,” he cried violently, “of +what was the composer thinking when<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> he beat out those bars? When you +shall play them you shall take only your forefinger and draw all your +strength within it, and when the notes shriek in pain you shall have one +secret of passion there beneath your hand.”</p> + +<p>He spoke with such force,—such a tremendous force of feeling, that her +face betrayed her wonder.</p> + +<p>“I frighten you,—yes?” he asked with a smile of reassurance; “oh, that +must not be. I only speak so because I will that you know too. It is +good to know. Many go to the end and never know but love and are very +well content, but I think you will know more. I did love myself once. +She was never mine, and the time is gone, and I have thought to suffer +much forever, and then I have stop to suffer, and now I am all forget. +But,” he flung his cigarette to the waves, and for the first time during +his monologue turned squarely towards her, “but if I have a passion come +to me <em>now</em>, <em>that</em> woman shall be mine! If I die for it she shall be +mine. Because what I feel shall be so strong that she shall of force +feel it too. Every day, every night, every hour, the need of me will go +to her strongly and make her weaker, and weaker, and weaker, until she +have no choice but of the being all mine. And so you are quite decided +to go to Zurich to-morrow?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68])</a></span>He brought forth the question in such sudden change of subject that she +started involuntarily. But then relief at the descent into the +commonplace came on her and she replied:</p> + +<p>“Yes, I want to go there to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>“But why do you not want to on Tuesday—or next week?”</p> + +<p>“My friend is there,” she reminded him.</p> + +<p>His brow clouded, and she knew the reason why.</p> + +<p>“You are so typically European,” she laughed; “I do believe that +humanity over here has only two bases of action, and they are governed +by ‘<em>Cherchez la femme</em>’ and ‘<em>Cherchez l’homme</em>.’”</p> + +<p>“<em>Mais c’est vrai, ça!</em>” he said doggedly.</p> + +<p>“Not always,” she replied; “or perhaps not always in the usual sense. It +is true that I am going to Zurich to meet some one, but it is so very +innocent when a woman goes ‘<em>cherchant la femme</em>,’ and, as I told you +before, it is a woman that I go to meet, or, rather, it is a girl.”</p> + +<p>“Are you sure?” he asked suspiciously.</p> + +<p>“You don’t believe my word yet, do you?”</p> + +<p>“I did not say that.”</p> + +<p>“No, but really you do not.”</p> + +<p>He gave a slight shrug.</p> + +<p>“My friend is an Irish girl,” Rosina went on placidly. “I do love her +so. We shall have such a good time being together next week.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69])</a></span>“You are sure that she is not English?” the man asked, with a little +touch of sarcasm in his inflection.</p> + +<p>“If you could hear her speak you could tell that from her accent.”</p> + +<p>Von Ibn took out his case and lit another cigarette.</p> + +<p>“What hotel do you go at in Zurich?” he asked presently.</p> + +<p>“I shall go wherever my friend is.”</p> + +<p>“Where is she?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know; I write her <em>Poste Restante</em>. She has been travelling for +a long time with a Russian friend,—a lady,” she added, with a jerk.</p> + +<p>“I hope you will go to the Victoria,” Von Ibn said slowly; “that is +where I always have stay in Zurich.”</p> + +<p>“So that we may have our dining-room souvenir in common, I suppose?”</p> + +<p>“It is a very nice place,” he cried hotly; “it is not at all common! It +is one of the best hotels in Zurich.”</p> + +<p>She hastily interposed an explanation of the error in his comprehension +of her meaning, and by the time that he understood, the lights of +Lucerne were hazing the darkness, while the Rigi and Pilate had each +hung out their rope ladder of stars.</p> + +<p>“What time do you travel in the morning?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span>” he asked then, turning his +eyes downward upon her face.</p> + +<p>“By the first express; it goes, I believe, about eight o’clock.”</p> + +<p>“I shall not be awake,” he said gloomily.</p> + +<p>“I shall not be, either; but Ottillie will get me aboard somehow.”</p> + +<p>“If it was noon that you go, I should certainly come to the Gare,” he +said thoughtfully; then he reflected for a short space, and added +eagerly, “why do you not go later, and make an excursion by Zug; it is +just on your way, and a so interesting journey.”</p> + +<p>“I know Zug, and the lake too; I’ve coached all through there.”</p> + +<p>“Then it would not again interest you?”</p> + +<p>“No; I want to go straight to Molly as fast as I can.”</p> + +<p>“To Molli! Where is that? You said to Zurich you went.”</p> + +<p>She laughed and explained.</p> + +<p>“Molly is the name of my girl friend.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, truly.”</p> + +<p>Then he was silent, and she was silent, and the lights of Lucerne +continued to draw nearer and nearer.</p> + +<p>“I wonder if I shall really never see you again,” he said, after a long +interval.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span>“I wonder.”</p> + +<p>“It is very unlikely that we shall ever meet again.”</p> + +<p>“Very.”</p> + +<p>In spite of herself her voice sounded dry.</p> + +<p>“Where is your bank address?”</p> + +<p>“Deutsches-Filiale, Munich, while I am in this part of the world. But +why? Were you thinking of writing me weekly?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no,” he said hastily, “but I might send you a <em>carte-postale</em> +sometimes, if you liked.”</p> + +<p>She felt obliged to laugh.</p> + +<p>“Would you send a colored one, or just one of the regular <em>dix-centime</em> +kind,” she inquired with interest.</p> + +<p>Von Ibn contemplated her curiously.</p> + +<p>“You have such a pretty mouth!” he murmured.</p> + +<p>She laughed afresh.</p> + +<p>“But with the stamp it is fifteen <em>centimes</em> anyway,” he continued.</p> + +<p>“Stamp, what stamp? Oh, yes, the postal card,” she nodded; and then, “I +never really expect to see you again, but I’m glad, very glad that I met +you, because you have interested and amused me so much.”</p> + +<p>“American men are so very stupid, are they not?” he said +sympathetically.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72])</a></span>“No, indeed,” she cried indignantly; “American men are charming, and +they always rise and give their seats to women in the trams, which the +men here never think of doing.”</p> + +<p>“You need not speak to me so hotly,” said Von Ibn, “I always take a +cab.”</p> + +<p>The ending of his remark was sufficiently unexpected to cause a short +break in the conversation; then Rosina went on:</p> + +<p>“I saw a man do a very gallant thing once, he hurried to carry a poor +old woman’s big bundle of washing for her because the tram stopped in +the wrong place and she would have so far to take it. Wasn’t that royal +in him?”</p> + +<p>He did not appear impressed.</p> + +<p>“Does that man take the broom and sweep a little for the street-cleaner +when he meets her?” he asked, after a brief period for reflection.</p> + +<p>“We do not have women street-cleaners in America.”</p> + +<p>Then he yawned, with no attempt at disguise. She felt piqued at such an +open display of ennui, and turned from him to the now brilliant shore +past which they were gliding.</p> + +<p>After a minute or two he took out his note-book and pencil.</p> + +<p>“Deutsches-Filiale, Munich, you said, did you not?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span>She nodded.</p> + +<p>“Can you write my name?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“If strict necessity should drive me to it.”</p> + +<p>“Write it here, please.”</p> + +<p>He held the book upon the rail and she obeyed the request. Afterwards he +held the page to the light until he was apparently thoroughly assured of +some doubtful point, and then put it back in his pocket.</p> + +<p>“I shall send you a card <em>Poste Restante</em> at Zurich,” he announced, as +the lights of Lucerne blazed up close beside them.</p> + +<p>“Be sure that you spell my name right.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” he said, taking out his note-book again; “it is like this, <em>n’est +ce pas</em>?” and he wrote, and then showed her the result.</p> + +<p>“Yes, that’s it,” she assented.</p> + +<p>He continued to regard his book with deep attention.</p> + +<p>“It exasperates me to have my name spelled wrong,” she went on; “doesn’t +it you?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” he said; “it is for that that I look in my book.”</p> + +<p>She came close and looked at what she had written,—“Von Ebn.”</p> + +<p>“Isn’t that right?” she asked in surprise.</p> + +<p>“It is your English E, but not my letter.”</p> + +<p>“How do you spell your name?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74])</a></span>“I-b-n.”</p> + +<p>“Oh!”</p> + +<p>She laughed, and he laughed with her.</p> + +<p>“That was very stupid in me,” she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” he replied, with one of his rare smiles; “but I would have said +nothing, only that at the <em>Poste Restante</em> I shall lose all my letters +from you.”</p> + +<p>“All! what leads you to suppose that there would ever be any?”</p> + +<p>He turned and looked steadily at her, his eyes widely earnest.</p> + +<p>“What, not even a post card?”</p> + +<p>Rosina forgave the yawn, or perhaps she had forgotten it.</p> + +<p>“Do you really want to hear from me again?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, really.”</p> + +<p>“Shall you remember me after I am gone?”</p> + +<p>“<em>Natürlich.</em>”</p> + +<p>“For how long?”</p> + +<p>At that he shrugged his shoulders. Down below they were making ready for +the landing.</p> + +<p>“Who can say?” he answered at last.</p> + +<p>“At least, monsieur, you are frank.”</p> + +<p>“I am always frank.”</p> + +<p>“Is that always best?”</p> + +<p>“I think so.”</p> + +<p>People were beginning to move towards the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> staircase. Below, the man +stood ready to fling the rope.</p> + +<p>“Let us go to the other landing and walk back across the stone bridge,” +he suggested.</p> + +<p>“There is not time; it is quite seven o’clock now.”</p> + +<p>“But I shall not again be with you, and there is something that I must +say.”</p> + +<p>“You must say it here, then.”</p> + +<p>The rope was thrown and caught, and every one aboard received the +violent jolt that attends some boat-landings. Rosina was thrown against +her companion and he was thrown against the stair-rail.</p> + +<p>“Can you hear if I speak now,” he whispered.</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“You will see that I really interest myself in you.”</p> + +<p>Just then some one in front trod on a dog, which yelped violently for +three minutes; for a brief space speech was impossible, and then they +were on the gang-plank, and he bent above her once more.</p> + +<p>“I want to ask you something; will you do it if I ask you?”</p> + +<p>“What is it?”</p> + +<p>“Will you promise me to do it?”</p> + +<p>They were now squeezing past the ticket <em>kiosque</em>.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76])</a></span>“But what is it?”</p> + +<p>“It is this—”</p> + +<p>A man behind stepped on Rosina’s skirt and nearly pulled her over +backward; something ripped violently and she gave a low cry. The man +said, “<em>Mille pardons</em>,” and Von Ibn looked ready to murder him.</p> + +<p>“Are you undone?” he asked her solicitously.</p> + +<p>“No, I’m only badly torn.”</p> + +<p>“Do you want a pin?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; have you one?”</p> + +<p>“<em>Malheureusement que non.</em>”</p> + +<p>“I think that I can hold it up,” she said bravely.</p> + +<p>“It is unpardonable—a such man!”</p> + +<p>He turned to scowl again at the offender. They were now in the +Promenade.</p> + +<p>“He couldn’t see in the dark, I suppose,” she murmured.</p> + +<p>“But why was he come so near? If it was I who had torn from being too +near, that would be quite different.”</p> + +<p>“If you don’t take care it will be exactly the same thing.”</p> + +<p>He laughed, and gave way three inches.</p> + +<p>“You have not yet promise,” he said then.</p> + +<p>“Promised what?”</p> + +<p>“To do what I ask.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77])</a></span>“Tell me what it is; if I can do it I will.”</p> + +<p>He took her arm to cross towards the hotel.</p> + +<p>“You can do it if you will,” he said; “it is this—”</p> + +<p>The Schweizerhof shone before them, great and white and sparkling; every +window was lighted, every table on the terrace was full. Rosina +quickened her steps.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I’m so late,” she cried, “and I have <em>such</em> a toilette to make!”</p> + +<p>Von Ibn had his hand upon her arm still.</p> + +<p>“It is this,” he said emphatically, “promise me that you will go to the +Victoria Hotel at Zurich; yes?”</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>Later in her own room, as Ottillie dressed her hair, she closed her eyes +and tried to reduce her thoughts to a rational basis. But she gave up in +despair.</p> + +<p>“From the ‘Souvenir’ to the Victoria,” she murmured; “oh, he is most +certainly a genius!” then she sighed a little. “I’m sorry that we shall +probably never meet again,” she added sadly.</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span>Chapter Five</h2> + + +<p class="cap">ROSINA fairly flung herself off of the train and into the arms of Molly, +and then and there they kissed one another with the warmth born of a +long interval apart.</p> + +<p>“Well, my dear,” began the Irish girl, when they found themselves five +minutes later being rolled away in one of the villainous Zurich cabs, +“begin away back in the early days of our sad separation and tell me +everything that has happened to you since.”</p> + +<p>“Not much has happened,” Rosina replied. “I crossed in May and got some +clothes in Paris, and then came Lucerne, and this is June. Before I came +over <em>nothing</em> happened. How could things happen while I had to wear a +crape veil?”</p> + +<p>“To be sure!” said Molly wisely; “and yet they do sometimes,—I know it +for a fact. And anyway the veil is off now, and you look so well that I +should think perhaps—lately?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, <em>dear</em>, no,” said Rosina, turning quickly scarlet; “don’t harbor +such an idea for a second. Nothing of that sort will ever happen to me +again.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span> A burnt child dreads the fire, and I can assure you I’m cinders +to the last atom. But never mind me, tell me about yourself. That is +much more interesting.”</p> + +<p>“‘About myself is it you’re inquiring’?” laughed the Irish girl; “’tis +easy told. Last winter, like a fool, I engaged myself to a sweet young +Russian colonel, and this spring he died—”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Molly!”</p> + +<p>“Never mind, my dear, because I can assure you that <em>I</em> didn’t. Russians +are so furiously made up that he couldn’t stand any of the other men +that I was engaged to. My life was too broad a burden in consequence, +and I was well satisfied at his funeral.”</p> + +<p>“Is it his mother that you are travelling with?”</p> + +<p>“His mother! No, dear, I can’t stand any of the family now.”</p> + +<p>“Whose mother is she?”</p> + +<p>“She isn’t anybody’s mother. That’s how she can be sixty-five and look +forty-two by gaslight.”</p> + +<p>“Does she look forty-two by gaslight? Oh, imagine looking forty-two by +gaslight!”</p> + +<p>“By men’s gaslight she looks forty-two. Any woman could just +instinctively see through everything from her wig to her waist, and +that’s why she has grown to hate me so.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span>“Does she hate you?”</p> + +<p>“Hate me! Well, wait until you see her look at me. It’s a sort of cross +between a mud-turtle and a basilisk, and she’s forever telling my age +and telling it wrong. And she lays for every man that comes near me.”</p> + +<p>“Why, Molly, how awful!”</p> + +<p>“I’m going slowly mad. You’ve no idea! she’s so jealous that life is not +only a burden, it’s a weight that’s smashing me flatter every day. I’m +getting a gray hair and a wrinkle, and all because of her. And she wrote +Ivan—”</p> + +<p>“Who’s Ivan?”</p> + +<p>“He’s one of the men that I’ve accepted lately; he’s her cousin. He’s a +prince and she’s a princess; but oh, my soul and body, my head is uneasy +enough with lying and I’ve ceased to care a bit about the crown.”</p> + +<p>“Why, Molly, wouldn’t you like to be a princess?”</p> + +<p>“Not after this trip. Do you know what straits she’s driven me to? +actually I came near taking a Turk at Trieste.”</p> + +<p>“Did you?”</p> + +<p>“No, I didn’t. I thought it over and I decided I wasn’t built for the +monopoly of a harem.”</p> + +<p>Rosina burst out laughing.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span>“Molly,” she gasped, “imagine <em>you</em> confined to only one man, and he +your lord and master!”</p> + +<p>“I couldn’t possibly imagine it, and I make it a point to never go in +for anything that I can’t imagine. But, my dear, I must tell you the +great news. Being engaged is an old habit with me; but” (she put her +hand to her throat and felt within her high stock) “you must know that I +am now actually in love, for the first time in my life, too.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Molly, since when?”</p> + +<p>“Three weeks. Wait till I fish up my locket and you shall see him. +Handsome is nowhere! And our meeting was <em>so</em> romantic. I was lying on +the bottom of a boat waiting to be paddled into the Blue Grotto, and at +the last minute a stranger came, and they laid him down at my feet. When +we got into the grotto, of course we stood up; and it was lucky we did, +for we fell in love directly, and of course we couldn’t have fallen +unless we were standing.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Molly, who is he? do show me the picture.”</p> + +<p>“That’s what I’m trying to do, but I think the clasp has hooked on to +Captain Douglas’ locket,—you remember Captain Douglas!—I can’t pull it +anyway. Never mind, I’ll show you to-night.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82])</a></span>“Is he English?”</p> + +<p>“English, no; he’s Italian. Such eyes you never saw. They’re warmer than +white porcelain tile stoves in early autumn. And he belongs to the +Queen-mother’s regiment, and wears the most resplendent uniform and a +gray cape that he just carelessly sweeps across his chest and up over +the other shoulder—ah!”</p> + +<p>Molly stopped to draw a deep breath and sigh.</p> + +<p>“Where is he stationed?” her friend inquired.</p> + +<p>“Rome; and he hasn’t a cent beyond his pay, so we can’t think of any +future which makes him <em>so</em> blue.”</p> + +<p>“Poor fellow! do you consider yourself engaged to him?”</p> + +<p>“Of course I’m engaged to him. He came a whole day’s journey to propose. +You don’t suppose I’d say ‘no’ to a chap who was awfully hard up, and +then took a long, expensive trip just on my account! Besides, I’m most +desperately in love with him, and he is the kind of man who couldn’t +come to time any other way. He is a most awfully good sort—the sort +that believe in everything. Why, he has such a high opinion of me that +it’s almost depressing at times. I can’t live up to a high opinion; it’s +all I can do to keep above a low one.”</p> + +<p>“But how will it come out, Molly?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83])</a></span>“It won’t come out at all unless you tell it. No one else knows. He +<em>can’t</em> say anything without compromising himself, and I’m not likely to +let it out unless I some day pull up the wrong locket by accident.”</p> + +<p>“But don’t it trouble you?”</p> + +<p>“Trouble me! Why should it trouble me? It’s that old Russian woman who +troubles me. I’d be idiotic to add to my miseries by thinking up any +other torments while I’m around with her. Here we are at the +Quai,—that’s the hotel yonder. And I’ve talked one continuous stream +ever since we left the Gare and you’ve never said a word. Begin right +off and tell me something about yourself. Who have you met since you +came over in May? Of course you’ve met <em>some one</em>. Who?”</p> + +<p>“An old French marquis,” Rosina told her thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>“And no one else?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, of course there were loads of others. But this was such a dear +old gentleman, when he kissed my hand—well, really, I almost felt like +a princess.”</p> + +<p>“But not like a marchioness?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, dear no! I wouldn’t think of undertaking the gout before I’m +thirty.”</p> + +<p>“The Lord preserve me from dear old men!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span>” Molly ejaculated with fervor. +“Why, I had a baron propose to me last winter; he was actually so shaky +that his valet was always in attendance to stand him up and sit him +down. While he was pouring out his remnant of a heart I kept expecting +to see the valet come running in to throw him at my knees. He was over +eighty and awfully rich, but that servant of his was too careful and +conscientious for me to dare risk it,—a man like that with devoted +attention and plenty of rare beef might live ten years, you know,—so I +told him ‘no,’ and the valet came in and stood him up and led him +away.”</p> + +<p>The cab coming to a standstill before the hotel just at this moment, the +two young women were forced to interrupt their conversation, and +undertake the arduous labor of preparing for <em>déjeuner</em>. Ottillie was +just laying out the contents of the travelling toilet-case when her +mistress came in to be dressed, and it was quite two hours later before +any opportunity presented itself for renewing their talk. Then Molly +came into the salon of the blue-and-white suite which the friends +shared, and they curled up together on the divan, prepared to spend one +of those infinitely delightful hours which are only known to two +thoroughly congenial women who have had the rare luck of chancing to +know one another well.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span>Molly began by winding her arm about her friend’s shoulders and kissing +her warmly.</p> + +<p>“’Tis like Paradise to be with you instead of that fussy old woman,” she +said warmly; “now go on with what you were telling me in the +carriage,—the marquis, you know.”</p> + +<p>“There isn’t any more to tell you about him, he’s all over, but I’ll +tell you about some one else, if you’ll be good.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll be good. Who, and where, and which, and what is the other?”</p> + +<p>“I haven’t any faith in you, I’m afraid you will tease me.”</p> + +<p>“Did I ever tease you before?”</p> + +<p>“I was married then and I didn’t mind. I feel differently now.”</p> + +<p>“I promise not to tease you one bit. Where did you meet him?”</p> + +<p>“In Lucerne.”</p> + +<p>“What’s his name? I know a lot of people who are in Lucerne just now. +Perhaps I know him.”</p> + +<p>“I wish that you did know him.”</p> + +<p>“Tell me his name.”</p> + +<p>“It’s the composer, Herr von Ibn.”</p> + +<p>Molly screamed with joy.</p> + +<p>“Oh, my dear, what luck you do have! Did he play for you? Have you heard +any of his things?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86])</a></span>“No, unfortunately. You see I only met him on Saturday, and as I came +away this morning we had to rush every second as hard as we could in +order to become acquainted at all.”</p> + +<p>“What fun to know him! He’s going to be so tremendously famous, they +say; did you know that?”</p> + +<p>“So they told me there.”</p> + +<p>“And he plays in such a wonderful manner, too. What a pity he didn’t +play for you. Don’t you love a violin, anyhow?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know,” said Rosina thoughtfully; “I think that I like a flute +best, but I always think whenever I see a man playing on a violin that +the attitude ought to develop very affectionate tendencies in him.”</p> + +<p>“What kind of a fellow was he to talk to? Was he agreeable?”</p> + +<p>“Most of the American men didn’t like him, I believe,” said Rosina; then +she added, “but most of the American men never like any foreigners, you +know, unless it’s the Englishmen, perhaps.”</p> + +<p>“But what did you think of him?”</p> + +<p>“I thought he was very queer; and he got the better of me all the time.”</p> + +<p>“That ought to have made you hate him.”</p> + +<p>“That is what seems so odd to me. I’ve<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span> been thinking about him all the +time that I was on the train this morning. Do you know, Molly, that man +was positively rude to me over and over again, and yet, try as I might, +I couldn’t stay angry with him.” She paused and knit her brows for a few +seconds over some recollection, and then she turned suddenly and laid +her face against the other’s shoulder. “Molly, dear,” she said softly, +“he had a way of smiling,—if you could only see it! Well!”</p> + +<p>“Well!”</p> + +<p>“I could forgive anything to that smile,—honestly.”</p> + +<p>Molly looked thoughtful.</p> + +<p>“Saturday to Monday,” she murmured apropos of nothing.</p> + +<p>Rosina lifted her head and gave her a glance.</p> + +<p>“I wish that <em>you</em> might meet him,” she said gravely.</p> + +<p>“I wish that he was here in Zurich,” her friend replied.</p> + +<p>At that instant there sounded a tap on the door.</p> + +<p>“<em>Herein!</em>” Rosina cried.</p> + +<p>It was a waiter with a card upon a tray; Molly held out her hand for the +bit of pasteboard, glanced at it, and gave a start and a cry.</p> + +<p>“Is anything the matter?” Rosina asked,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> reaching for the card. Her +friend gave it to her, and as her eyes fell upon the name she turned +first white and then red.</p> + +<p>“It <em>can’t</em> be that he is here in Zurich!” she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>“This is his card, anyway.”</p> + +<p>“Mercy on us!”</p> + +<p>“Shall he come up here,—he had better, don’t you think?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know,” she gasped. “I’m too surprised to think! The idea of his +coming here this afternoon! Why, I never thought of such a thing. He +said good-bye <em>forever</em> last night. I—”</p> + +<p>“Show monsieur to the room,” Molly said to the man, cutting Rosina short +in the full tide of her astonishment.</p> + +<p>“Of course you must see him,” she said, as the door closed, “and, not +being entirely devoid of curiosity, I can’t help feeling awfully glad to +think that now I shall see him too.”</p> + +<p>She quitted the divan as she spoke and went to the mirror over the +mantelpiece. There was something in the action that suddenly recalled +Rosina to her senses, and she sprang to her feet and disappeared into +the sleeping-room beyond, returning in two or three minutes bearing +evidence of Ottillie’s deft touch. She found Molly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span> still before the +mirror, and as her own reflection appeared over her friend’s shoulder +the other nodded and laughed.</p> + +<p>“You seem to have made a deep impression,” she said gayly.</p> + +<p>“I can’t understand it all,” Rosina began; “he made <em>such</em> a fuss over +his good-bye last night and—and—well, really, I never dreamed of his +doing such a thing as to come here.”</p> + +<p>“I’m heartily glad that he’s come, because now I shall meet him, and +I’ve heard—”</p> + +<p>She was interrupted by a slight tap at the door, and before either could +cry “<em>Entrez!</em>” it was flung open and Von Ibn strode into the room. The +first glance at his face showed both that something was gone all wrong, +and most horribly so.</p> + +<p>Rosina, flushed afresh, went towards him, holding out her hand and +wondering if it was anything in connection with Molly that had produced +such an utter blackness.</p> + +<p>“This is a very great surprise,” she began, but he interrupted her at +once.</p> + +<p>“<em>Comme je vous ai cherché!</em>” he cried, with violence. “Why are you not +gone to the Victoria as you say—as I ask you to?” His face was like a +thunder-storm.</p> + +<p>The corners of her mouth felt suddenly traitorous;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span> she tried to speak, +beginning, “I did not know—” but he broke in, and went hotly on with:</p> + +<p>“Naturally you did not know, but I had already known! One could not, of +course, expect me to get up to ride on that most uncomfortable train +which you chose, but of course also I came on the first train leaving +after I did wake up.”</p> + +<p>Molly turned abruptly to the window and leaned as far out as she could, +her handkerchief pressed tightly over her mouth. Rosina wished that her +friend might have been anywhere else; even during what is commonly +called “a scene” two are infinitely better company than three.</p> + +<p>“How most absurd I have been made,” Von Ibn continued wrathfully, “in a +cab from hotel to hotel hunting for you! Do you think I have ever done +so before? Do you think I have found it very amusing to-day? Naturally I +go from the Gare to the Victoria, where I have told you to go. I take +there a room, and tell the <em>garçon</em> to bring my card to madame; and in +ten minutes, as I am getting me out of the dust of that most abominable +middle-day train, he returns to say that no such as madame is within the +house. <em>Figurez-vous?</em> Why are you acted so? Why are you always so oddly +singular?”</p> + +<p>Rosina appeared struck dumb by the torrent<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> of his words; she stood pink +and silent before his towering blackness. Molly, at the window, judged +it prudent to interfere, and, turning, began:</p> + +<p>“It’s all my fault, monsieur. Rosina wanted to go to the Victoria; she +wept when she found that she couldn’t, but I was here already and we +wanted to be together, and so she consented to come with me and live by +the lake.”</p> + +<p>Von Ibn turned his eyes upon the new speaker, and their first expression +was one of deep displeasure. But Molly’s eyes were of that brown which +is almost bronze, and fringed by eyelashes that were irresistibly long +and curly, and she furthermore possessed a smile that could have found +its way anywhere alone, and yet was rendered twice wise in the business +of hearts by two attendant dimples, to the end that the combination was +powerful enough to slowly smooth out some of the deepest lines of anger +in the face before her, and to vastly ameliorate its generally offended +air.</p> + +<p>From the evidently pardoned Irish girl the caller turned his somewhat +softened gaze towards the young American, and then, and then only, it +appeared that a fresh storm-centre had gathered force unto itself in +that one small salon, and that it was now Rosina who had decided to +exhibit <em>her</em> temper, beginning by saying, with a very haughty +coolness:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span>“It’s nice of mademoiselle to try and make a joke out of all this, but +she knows that I never thought for a minute of going anywhere except +where she might chance to be. And as to you, monsieur, I cannot see how +you could have expected or demanded that I should pay any attention +whatever to your wishes. You told me last night that we might never meet +again—”</p> + +<p>“And that could have truthed itself by chance,” he interrupted eagerly.</p> + +<p>“—And I believed you, and you know it,” she finished, not noticing his +interpolation.</p> + +<p>He stood still, looking straight at her, and when she was altogether +silent he stepped forward and raised her hand within his own.</p> + +<p>“Does one meet a real friendship on Saturday to let it go from him for +always after Monday?” he asked her, speaking with a simple dignity that +suddenly swept the atmosphere free from clouds and storms.</p> + +<p>Molly crossed the room hastily.</p> + +<p>“I hear madame calling,” she explained.</p> + +<p>Rosina knew that madame was down a corridor well around the corner, and +that she was not in the habit of calling for anything or anybody, but +she felt no desire to cover her friend with shame by forcing her to +admit that she was lying. Indeed, just at that particular moment +Molly’s<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> absence appeared to be a very desirable quota in the general +scheme of things. So the girl went away and stayed away—being wise in +her views as to life and love affairs.</p> + +<p>When they were alone Von Ibn flung himself into an arm-chair and +stretched forth his hand almost as if to command her approach to his +side. She stood still, but she could feel her color rising and was +desperately annoyed that it should be so.</p> + +<p>“You are not angry that I be here?” he asked.</p> + +<p>She drew a quick little breath and then turned to seat herself.</p> + +<p>“You must have known that I must come,” he continued.</p> + +<p>She felt her lips tremble, and was furious at them for it.</p> + +<p>“I played the ‘Souvenir’ last night,” he said, dropping his eyes and +sinking his voice; “it is then plain to me that I must travel to-day.”</p> + +<p>Something dragged her gaze upward until their eyes met.</p> + +<p>He smiled, and she blushed deeply....</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span>Chapter Six</h2> + + +<p class="cap">IT was very late that night—indeed the hour was dangerously close upon +the morning after—before the two friends found themselves alone +together again. Rosina lay up among the pillows, the centre of a mass of +blue cambric, with tiny bands of lace confining the fulness here and +there; while Molly, in such a dressing-gown as grows only in the Rue de +la Paix, sat on the foot of the narrow continental bed and thoughtfully +bound the braids of her bonny brown hair.</p> + +<p>“Well, you know him now,” Rosina said at last, the inflection of her +voice rampant with interrogative meaning.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” was the non-committal answer.</p> + +<p>“Don’t be horrid, Molly; you know I want so much to know what you think +of him? Isn’t he delicious? Isn’t he grand? Didn’t he impress you as +being just an ideal sort of a celebrity?”</p> + +<p>Molly opened her eyes to an exceeding width.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know,” she said slowly.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95])</a></span>“Don’t know! then you don’t like him? What don’t you like about him?”</p> + +<p>“Well, I’d prefer a Russian myself.”</p> + +<p>“Why! what do you mean?”</p> + +<p>“They’re not so fierce, and if one likes fierceness they’re plenty +fierce enough.”</p> + +<p>“What are you talking about?”</p> + +<p>“The way that he came bursting in on us to-day.”</p> + +<p>“But that was splendid! it was lovely to see him so worked up.”</p> + +<p>“You never can count on when he’ll work up, though.”</p> + +<p>“But I like men you can’t count on.”</p> + +<p>“Do you?”</p> + +<p>“You see, I could always count on my husband, and that sort of +arithmetic isn’t to my taste any more.”</p> + +<p>“Well, dear, from the little I’ve seen of Herr von Ibn I should say that +it would be impossible to ever work him by any other rule than that of +his own sweet—or otherwise—will.”</p> + +<p>“But I like that.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, so I gathered from your actions.”</p> + +<p>“And, after all, whatever he is—” Rosina paused and ran her fingers +through her hair. “It doesn’t any of it amount to anything, you know,” +she added.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96])</a></span>“Oh, dear no. That’s evident enough.”</p> + +<p>Rosina started.</p> + +<p>“What do you mean?” she cried.</p> + +<p>“Oh, nothing as far as he’s concerned;—only as far as you are.”</p> + +<p>“But,” Rosina insisted, “you did mean something. What was it? You +mean—”</p> + +<p>“I don’t mean anything,” said Molly; “if he don’t mean anything and you +don’t mean anything, how in Heaven’s name could <em>I</em> mean anything?”</p> + +<p>“I only met him Saturday, you know,” Rosina reminded her. “And this is +Monday,” she reminded her further. “Nothing ever can happen in such a +short time,” she wound up airily.</p> + +<p>“No,” said Molly thoughtfully, “to be sure you can die and they can bury +you between Saturday and Monday, but nothing ever happened to living +people in such a short time, of course.”</p> + +<p>“I wish you wouldn’t laugh.”</p> + +<p>“I’m not laughing, I’m thinking.”</p> + +<p>“What are you thinking?”</p> + +<p>“I was thinking that if I met a man in Lucerne on Saturday and he came +stalking me to Zurich on Monday, I certainly should—” she hesitated.</p> + +<p>“Well, I shouldn’t,” Rosina declared flatly.</p> + +<p>There was a pause, during which Molly finished her braids and proceeded +to establish herself<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> on the foot of her friend’s bed in a most +confidence-provoking attitude.</p> + +<p>“Let’s talk about the lieutenant,” the American suggested at last.</p> + +<p>“He’s too mild for to-night,” her friend said; “it would be like toast +and rain-water after a hunt meet to discuss him just now. Let’s talk +about Dmitri.”</p> + +<p>“Whose Dmitri? another one of your <em>fiancés</em>?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, dear no. He’s a cross Russian poodle that was given me last +Christmas. When you try to be nice to him he bites. I don’t know what +makes me think of him just now.”</p> + +<p>Rosina laughed, and held her hand out lovingly towards the pretty girl +at her feet.</p> + +<p>“Forgive me, Molly. I really didn’t mean to be vexed. Let us talk of +something pleasant and leave my latest to sleep in peace at the +Victoria.”</p> + +<p>“Are you sure that he’s at the Victoria?”</p> + +<p>“Not at all; he may have moved to this hotel, or returned to Lucerne.”</p> + +<p>“I should think so, indeed.”</p> + +<p>“But never mind.”</p> + +<p>Molly took her knees into the embrace of her clasped hands.</p> + +<p>“I wonder if you ever <em>will</em> marry again,” she murmured curiously.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98])</a></span>“Never.”</p> + +<p>“Are you sorry that you ever married?”</p> + +<p>“No-o-o,” said the other reflectively, “because I never could have known +the joy of being a widow any other way, you know.”</p> + +<p>“Would you advise me to marry,” Molly inquired; “one can’t be sure of +the widowhood, and if one has courage and self-denial a life of single +blessedness is attainable for any woman.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t believe it is for you, though.”</p> + +<p>“Why not, pray?”</p> + +<p>“Your eyes are all wrong; old maids never have such eyes.”</p> + +<p>“I got my eyes from my father.”</p> + +<p>“Well, he wasn’t an old maid, surely?”</p> + +<p>“No, he was a captain in the Irish Dragoons.”</p> + +<p>“There, you see!”</p> + +<p>Molly stood up and shook her gown out, preparatory to untying its series +of frontal bows.</p> + +<p>“But if you were to marry again—” she began.</p> + +<p>Rosina threw up an imploring hand.</p> + +<p>“You send cold December chills down my warm June back,” she cried +sharply.</p> + +<p>Molly flung the dressing-gown upon a chair and proceeded to turn off the +lights.</p> + +<p>“I don’t want you to think I’m cross,” began an apologetic voice in the +dark which descended about them.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99])</a></span>“I wasn’t thinking of you at all.”</p> + +<p>“What were you thinking of?”</p> + +<p>“Of Dmitri.”</p> + +<p>Then low laughter rippled from one narrow bed to the other and back +again.</p> + +<p>Five minutes later there was a murmur.</p> + +<p>“I do wish, Molly, that you’d tell me what you <em>really</em> thought of him.”</p> + +<p>“I thought he was grand. How could any one think anything else?”</p> + +<p>Then through the stillness and darkness there sounded the <em>frou-frou</em> of +ruffles and the sweetness and warmth of a fervent kiss.</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span>Chapter Seven</h2> + + +<p class="cap">THE next morning they both breakfasted in bed, the ingenuity of Ottillie +having somewhat mitigated the tray difficulty by a clever adjustment of +the wedge-shaped piece of mattress with which Europe elevates its head +at night. Molly was just “winding up” a liberal supply of honey, and +Rosina was salting her egg, when there came a tap at the door of the +salon.</p> + +<p>“Ah, Monsieur von Ibn is up early,” the Irish girl said in a calm +whisper, thereby frightening her friend to such a degree that she +dropped the salt-spoon into her cup of chocolate. Then they both held +their breath while Ottillie hurried to the door.</p> + +<p>It proved to be nothing more unconventional than the maid of Madame la +Princesse, a long-suffering female who bore the name of Claudine.</p> + +<p>“What is the matter?” Molly demanded anxiously.</p> + +<p>“Oh, mademoiselle, I am sent to say that it must that all go to-day!”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span>“To-day!” Molly screamed; “I thought that we were to remain until Friday +anyway?”</p> + +<p>“And I also thought it. Let mademoiselle but figure to herself how +yesterday I did all unpack in the thought of until Friday; and now +to-day I am bidden inpack once more!”</p> + +<p>“Now, did you <em>ever</em>?” Molly asked emphatically of Rosina, who shook her +head and looked troubled in good earnest. “Do you really think that she +means it?” she continued, turning to the maid once more; “she sometimes +changes her mind, you know.”</p> + +<p>“Not of this time, mademoiselle, I have already arrange her hairs, and I +am bidden place her other hairs in the case.”</p> + +<p>“Then it’s settled,” cried the Irish girl despairingly; “when her hair +is done, the end of all is at hand. What train do we go by, Claudine?”</p> + +<p>“I am not of all sure, mademoiselle; madame has spoken of he who runs by +Schaffhausen.”</p> + +<p>The Irish girl sighed heavily.</p> + +<p>“Very well, Claudine, you and I know what it is to travel as we do. Go +to madame and tell her I will come as soon as I am dressed,” and then +she picked up the honey-jar and sighed again.</p> + +<p>The maid went out.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102])</a></span>“What makes you go?” Rosina asked; “I wouldn’t.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, my dear, I’ve stayed at their place in the Caucasus weeks at a +time, and I have to be decent, and she knows it.”</p> + +<p>“Why did you ever accept an invitation to travel with such a horrid +person?”</p> + +<p>Molly was out of bed and jerking her hair-ribbons savagely loose.</p> + +<p>“She isn’t a horrid person,” she said; “they are very nice princes and +princesses, all of them. Only I hate to lead an existence like the slave +of the ring or the genii of the lamp, or whoever the johnny was who had +to jump whenever they rubbed their hands. It riles my blood just a bit +too much.”</p> + +<p>“I wouldn’t,” said Rosina decidedly; “I certainly wouldn’t.”</p> + +<p>“I wish I’d taken the Turk,” the Irish girl exclaimed, as she wove her +hair back and forth and in and out upon the crown of her head, “I’d have +been free of Russia then; ’tis a hint for European politics, my present +situation.”</p> + +<p>Rosina suddenly gave a sharp cry.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Molly,—and me?”</p> + +<p>Molly looked over her shoulder.</p> + +<p>“What is it?” she asked anxiously.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103])</a></span>“Why, what am I to do? I came here to be with you, and now you’re going +away.”</p> + +<p>“You’ll have to go too if you can’t stay behind without me.”</p> + +<p>“But I only came yesterday.”</p> + +<p>“Well, what of that?”</p> + +<p>“And, oh Molly, that man! I’ll <em>have</em> to go!”</p> + +<p>“Why?”</p> + +<p>“Why, because—because—Oh, you know why. And then,—if I go—what <em>do</em> +you suppose he will think?”</p> + +<p>Molly snatched her dressing-gown.</p> + +<p>“He’ll come too, I fancy. At least, judging from what I’ve seen of him I +should suppose that he’d come too.”</p> + +<p>“Come too!” Rosina gasped.</p> + +<p>“Why not? He’ll be just as interesting in Constance as he is here, or in +Lucerne.”</p> + +<p>“You don’t really think that he would come too; Molly, not <em>really</em>?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly I think that he would.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Molly!”</p> + +<p>“’Tis their way here on the Continent; they’ve nothing else to do, you +know. I know a man who went from Paris to St. Petersburg after a girl (I +know it for a fact, for the girl was myself), and another who came from +Naples to Nice just to call, and went back at midnight.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104])</a></span>Rosina appeared most uncomfortable.</p> + +<p>“I don’t want him to go to Constance—I don’t want to go myself!”</p> + +<p>“Oh, if it comes to that, you can both remain in Zurich indefinitely, of +course.”</p> + +<p>“No, we can’t; that is, I can’t. You know that. If he’s going to stay +I’ve got to go. Oh dear, oh dear, how aggravating it all is! I don’t +<em>want</em> him to follow me about.”</p> + +<p>“Why don’t you tell him so, then?”</p> + +<p>“Molly!”</p> + +<p>“Yes, just tell him so, and if you really mean it, he’ll understand, +never fear.”</p> + +<p>“But I don’t want to do that.”</p> + +<p>“No, I didn’t expect that you would. One never likes to do that, which +is one reason why I am myself betrothed to three different men at the +present minute.”</p> + +<p>“But, Molly—”</p> + +<p>“I thought that you liked him.”</p> + +<p>“I do like him, but there’s a wide difference between liking a man and +wanting to have him tagging along behind all the time.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, as to that, I don’t believe that <em>der</em> Herr von Ibn will stay +enough behind to be considered as tagging very long.”</p> + +<p>Rosina twisted uneasily in bed.</p> + +<p>“I don’t see what to do,” she murmured.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span>Molly was getting into her clothes with a rapidity little short of +marvellous.</p> + +<p>“I’ll be curious to see what you <em>do</em> do,” she said, sticking pins +recklessly into herself here and there, while she settled all nice +points with a jerk. “It’s ten o’clock,” she added, with a glance towards +the chimney-piece, “you’d better be arising, for I presume he is coming +this morning?”</p> + +<p>Rosina smiled delightfully.</p> + +<p>“You heard him say so last night, didn’t you?”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps; somehow the remark didn’t make an impression on me, if I did.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll get up directly you go. And oh, Molly, do tell me just once more +before you leave me that you think he’s—”</p> + +<p>Molly slashed the end of her four-in-hand through the loop and drew up +the knot with a single pull; then she approached the bed and leaned over +the face upon the pillow.</p> + +<p>“I think he’s desperately in love,” she said, “and I’ve no blame for him +if he is.”</p> + +<p>“But do you really think that he is?”</p> + +<p>“Well, of course one can never be sure with foreigners.”</p> + +<p>“<em>Molly!</em>”</p> + +<p>“’Tis a fact, my dear. But then you know<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> one can never be sure with +one’s self either, so there you are.”</p> + +<p>Rosina laughed ringingly. Then they kissed one another and Molly +departed.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>Then came work for Ottillie, and her mistress was hardly completed as to +embroidered batiste and black moiré ribbon, when the large and +remarkable card with which the more distinguished portion of European +masculinity announce their presence was brought to the room by one of +the hotel <em>garçons</em>.</p> + +<p>He awaited her in the salon below, and when she appeared there to him, +such an expression dawned within his eyes as altered completely not only +their habitual melancholy, but the customary shadows of his whole face +as well. There is no flattery so subtle in its charm or so deeply +touching in its homage as such a change, and Rosina felt as much +complimented as any other woman would have been, had it been in her to +work so great a miracle in so great, and such, a man.</p> + +<p>“<em>Vous allez bien?</em>” he asked eagerly, as he came quickly forward to bow +over her hand.</p> + +<p>“Yes, very well;” and then, because she always became nervous directly +she lived beneath his steady look, she plunged wildly into the subject +uppermost in her mind. “And I ought to feel<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span> very well, because in all +probability I must travel again to-day.”</p> + +<p>“You leave Zurich already so soon?” he asked, and his voice betrayed +neither surprise nor even interest.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” she answered, “we are all going to Constance this afternoon.”</p> + +<p>“You have change your plans?” he inquired; “yes?”</p> + +<p>She looked up quickly at the much-objected-to word, and he received the +little glance with a shrug of apology and a smile.</p> + +<p>“Madame la Princesse wishes to go on,” said Rosina, “and mademoiselle +thought that I would be so lonely without her that I—”</p> + +<p>“You would have wished to stay, <em>n’est-ce pas</em>?” he asked, interrupting +her.</p> + +<p>“I don’t like to travel two days in succession.”</p> + +<p>“I would beg you to stay,” he said, looking at his gloved hands, “but I +also go to-day.”</p> + +<p>She felt her heart jump suddenly; Molly’s prediction assaulted her +memory with great violence.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” he went on, “it happens oddly that my plans are also suddenly +changed. It is to say good-bye that I am come.”</p> + +<p>Ah, then he was not going to Constance.</p> + +<p>“I am called to Leipsic by a telegram.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108])</a></span>“No one is ill, I hope?”</p> + +<p>“No, fortunately,” he replied pleasantly; “but in Leipsic I am much +interested.”</p> + +<p>Rosina felt a sudden shock, not the less disagreeable because it was so +undefined, but she pulled herself together at once and promptly +swallowed it whole.</p> + +<p>“I do hope that you will have a pleasant journey,” she said cordially.</p> + +<p>He was staring steadily at her.</p> + +<p>“Shall we meet again?” he said at last.</p> + +<p>“Very likely.”</p> + +<p>“And your address?”</p> + +<p>“You have it.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, yes, truly.”</p> + +<p>Then he stood up.</p> + +<p>“I go at one, and I have ordered to eat at twelve. I must therefore +leave you this shortly. You will make my adieux to your charming friend, +<em>n’est-ce pas</em>?”</p> + +<p>“I am so glad that you came to Zurich and met her,” she said, rising +also and lifting her eyes to his.</p> + +<p>He was looking so indifferent that she felt for the instant both puzzled +and hurt, and was angry at herself for ever having blushed on his +account. Then she recollected the telegram from Leipsic and drew herself +up well.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span>“Is it only because that I have the pleasure to meet mademoiselle that +you are glad I come?” he asked, holding out his hand.</p> + +<p>She nodded, smiling, but ignoring the hand.</p> + +<p>“In Lucerne you gave me your hand in good-bye,” he said presently.</p> + +<p>She offered her fingers with a frankness unequalled.</p> + +<p>“Good-bye,” she said.</p> + +<p>He kissed her rings.</p> + +<p>“It is ‘<em>au revoir</em>,’” he replied, in an almost inaudible tone.</p> + +<p>She wondered which was true, the indifferent look or the inaudible tone.</p> + +<p>He took up his hat.</p> + +<p>“<em>Pensez à moi quelquefois</em>,” he said cheerfully, and departed.</p> + +<p>When Molly was made acquainted with this piece of news her comment was +simplicity itself.</p> + +<p>“How queer!” she said, folding a lace fichu into a tulle hat, for she +was packing fast and furiously.</p> + +<p>“Of course I shall not go now; I shall stay here until Thursday and buy +silk stockings.”</p> + +<p>“Very commendable in you.”</p> + +<p>“I’m really too tired to go before Thursday. I’ve been around night and +day in Lucerne until I’m all worn out.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110])</a></span>“Yes?” said Molly, ramming down shoes into the corners; “well you can +rest now, sure.”</p> + +<p>“You will engage rooms for me near yours for Thursday, won’t you?”</p> + +<p>“I will.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll sleep and shop to-morrow, and come on that ten o’clock express +Thursday.”</p> + +<p>“’Tis settled,” said Molly, slamming down the trunk-lid; “we’ll be at +the Insel, and expect you day after to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>“What number do you wear?” Rosina asked, as she watched the trunk +locked.</p> + +<p>“Where,—round my neck or my waist?”</p> + +<p>“On your feet?”</p> + +<p>“Two-and-a-half.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, what a fairy!”</p> + +<p>Then they hurried down to lunch.</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span>Chapter Eight</h2> + + +<p class="cap">THAT afternoon Rosina took her maid and went for a walk. As a companion +Ottillie was certainly less congenial than the lofty and eccentric +gentleman who had just taken his departure for Leipsic; but going out +alone with a maid is such an eminently proper occupation for a young +widow travelling abroad, that the knowledge that she was entirely above +suspicion should have compensated for any slight ennui which Rosina may +have suffered.</p> + +<p>They first went a few blocks up and down the Bahnhofstrasse, and sent +the various packages which were the natural result of such a course of +action to the hotel; then came the Stadthaus Garten and the Alpen-Quai.</p> + +<p>The Quai was as gay as the Quai in Lucerne, or as any other Promenade in +Switzerland at that hour and season. Rosina, tired with her shopping, +seated herself upon a bench and watched with interest the vast variety +and animation of the never-ending double rank which passed slowly along +before her. Beyond, the Zurichersee lay<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span> brilliantly blue beneath the +midsummer sun, and far away, upon the opposite shore, the Alps rose +upward, dark gray below, and shining white above.</p> + +<p>There was a sudden exclamation, and out from among the crowd thronging +before her came that American whose steamer-chair had elbowed Rosina’s +on the passage over. There was no manner of doubt as to his joy over +meeting his fellow-traveller again, and they first shook hands and then +sat down to re-tie their mutual recollections. The result was that +Ottillie returned alone to the hotel.</p> + +<p>“And since Berlin?” Rosina asked, interestedly.</p> + +<p>“Since Berlin—” said the man (and she noticed that his voice appeared +to be pitched quite two octaves higher than that other voice which had +lately dawned upon her ear), “oh, I’ve been lots of places since +then,—France and Germany and Italy, up to Innspruch and into Austria +and over to Buda-Pesth, and then to Salzburg and down through the Tyrol +here. I’ve never quit seeing new places since I finished my +business,—not once.”</p> + +<p>“Dear me, but you must have had a good time!”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I have. But I’ve often wished myself back on the +‘Kronprinz,’—haven’t you?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113])</a></span>“No, I don’t think that I have. The person that I saw the most of on the +‘Kronprinz’ has been with me ever since.”</p> + +<p>The American looked surprised, having supposed himself to be that very +person. Rosina laughed at his face.</p> + +<p>“I mean my maid,” she explained.</p> + +<p>Then he laughed too.</p> + +<p>“Did you ever smoke any more?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, dear, no. Don’t you remember how that one cigarette used me up?”</p> + +<p>“You ought to have kept on,—you’d have liked them after a while.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps; but some one told me that they would make my fingers yellow.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, pshaw, not if you hold them the right way.”</p> + +<p>“The smoke got in my eyes so too; oh, I didn’t seem to care anything +about it.”</p> + +<p>Then they rose and joined the promenaders, who were beginning to grow a +little fewer with the approach of the dinner hour.</p> + +<p>“And where have you been all this time?” the man asked.</p> + +<p>“In Paris buying clothes, and in Lucerne wearing them.”</p> + +<p>“You’re travelling with friends?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, most of the time. They went on to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span> Constance to-day, and I am to +join them there Thursday.”</p> + +<p>“If you haven’t anything else to do to-night, won’t you go with me to +the Tonhalle and hear the music? It appears to be quite the thing to +do.”</p> + +<p>“I think that that would be lovely, and I’d like to very much, only we +must be back at the hotel by ten or half-past, for I am really very +tired.”</p> + +<p>“That’s easily done; you know we can go whenever we want to. What time +shall I call for you?”</p> + +<p>“I’ll be ready after eight.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll come about quarter past, and we can stroll about first and see +something of the night side of Zurich.”</p> + +<p>“The night side of everything here is so beautiful,” said Rosina; “the +shops that are temptation incarnate by day become after dark nothing but +bottomless pits into which all my money and my good resolutions tumble +together.”</p> + +<p>By this time they had crossed the bridge and followed the Uto nearly to +the Badeanstalt; it seemed time to turn their faces hotel-ward, and so +they did so, and parted for an hour or two, during which to dine and to +dress were the main objects in life for each.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span>Then about half-past eight Monsieur l’Américain came for his +country-woman, and both went out into the charm and glow of the +Continental night, with no other thought than that of enjoying a placid +and uninterrupted evening amidst the music and electric lights of the +Tonhalle. That such was not to be the case was one of the secrets of the +immediate future, and the advantage of the future, when it is immediate, +is that it is soon forced to stand and deliver as regards its secrets. +Rosina, totally unconscious of what was impending over her head, entered +fully into the spirit of gayety which prevailed, and absorbed the +pleasure of the scene with open heart and hands. It is good to grow to +womanhood (or manhood) without losing a child’s capacity for spontaneous +enjoyment,—to be capable of joy without knowing the reason why, to be +flooded with enthusiasm for one knows not what. It was our lady’s luck +to possess this charm, and to be able to give herself up wholly to the +end in view, and drink its glass to the dregs,—which in her life had +generally proved to be sugar and to be almost as good as the +liquid,—only requiring a spoon.</p> + +<p>The concert, as is the way with summer concerts, was so arranged as to +be easily varied with something cool and refreshing; and when her escort +suggested that they should do as all the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span> others did, a table was found, +and they sat down to ices and fairy cakes, amid the flowers and colored +lights.</p> + +<p>It was about nine o’clock, and Rosina, in spite of the environments, was +beginning to realize forcibly that more interesting men than the one +before her undoubtedly did exist, when the ice that she was putting in +her mouth suddenly seemed to glide the full length of her spine, giving +her a terrible sensation of frozen fright. She had just heard somebody +behind her speaking in German to the <em>garçon</em>, and German, French, or +English, that voice was unmistakable. How, what, or why she knew not, +but <em>he</em> was surely there behind her, and the instant after he passed +close at her side.</p> + +<p>Of course it was Von Ibn, and the look that he gave her as he bowed, and +walked on at once, dyed her face as deeply as ever a face was dyed in +all the world before. She looked after him with a sort of gasp in her +eyes, forgetting the man opposite her, the crowd around her, everybody, +everything, except that one tall figure which with the passing of each +instant was disappearing more and more among the labyrinth of tables and +people. She saw him pause at last and seem to hesitate, and her heart +throbbed wildly in her throat as she felt, with that strange +instinctive<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> intuition which continues to follow one train of thought +while our very life seems paralyzed by another, that if he took a seat +with his back to her, the action would be witness to a displeasure far +beyond what he must be feeling if he so placed himself as to be able to +watch her.</p> + +<p>He stood still, with his usual halt for deliberation, and then, at the +end of a long minute, seated himself so that his profile was presented +to her view.</p> + +<p>“Now,” she said to herself, “he will look away very carefully for a +while, and then he will look at us;” and with the thought her breath +mounted tumultuously.</p> + +<p>The music, which had been playing loudly, wound up to a crashing pitch +just here, and then ceased suddenly. With its ceasing her escort, who +rejoiced in the well-known “wide-awake American look,” and saw all that +was to be seen within his range of vision, spoke:</p> + +<p>“You knew that man who just passed, didn’t you?”</p> + +<p>She started, having forgotten the very existence of him who addressed +her.</p> + +<p>“Yes, oh, yes,” she said confusedly; “I know him very well indeed,” and +then she was choked to silence by Von Ibn, who turned and gave her a +carefully cold look of complete unrecognition. It was too elaborate to +be genuine, but it made<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span> her feel sick all over; for where other women +had brains or souls, Rosina had a heart, and again a heart, and yet once +more a heart. And that heart was not only the mainspring of her physical +life, but it was also the source of all her thoughts and actions. Von +Ibn’s haughty stare pierced it to the very centre; she knew exactly what +he was thinking, and the injustice of appearances goaded her to +distraction. She did not stop to consider whether his own re-appearance +was or was not an unworthy trick; she only writhed painfully under the +lash of his vast displeasure. The American continued to probe her face +with his eyes, but for that she cared not a whit; her only care was for +those other eyes, those two great dark-circled, heavy-lidded eyes which +knew no mask and tore her to the quick. Her mind fled here and there +among the possibilities of the present, and found but one end to every +vista, and that end grew momentarily in importance until she felt that +at all costs he who glowered from afar must learn the falsity of his own +imaginings and so restore her peace of mind to her. She looked upon her +American friend as a mere means towards that end, a tool to quickly +accomplish that which her impatience could no longer delay. So she +leaned suddenly forward and threw herself upon his mercy.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119])</a></span>“I must tell you,” she cried hurriedly, “I know him very well—very, +very well. I did not know that he was in Zurich, and he—he did not +expect to see me here. I want to speak to him; I must speak to him—I +must!” And then, without paying any attention to the other’s look of +astonishment, she added with haste, “I wish that you would go to him and +beg him to come to me for five minutes. I only want five minutes. And +some day, perhaps, I’ll be able to do you a good turn too.”</p> + +<p>The American did not look exactly rejoiced over this latest development +in their acquaintance, but he rose from his chair and asked what name he +should address the stranger by. Rosina told him, and he was sufficiently +unversed in the world of music to have never heard it before and to +experience a difficulty in getting it straight now.</p> + +<p>“Von Ibn, Von Ibn,” Rosina repeated impatiently. “Oh, I am so much +obliged to you; he—he—”</p> + +<p>She stopped; some queer grip was at her throat. Her companion was +touched; he had never imagined her going all to pieces like that, and he +felt sorry for the terrible earnestness betrayed in her voice and +manner.</p> + +<p>“I’ll go,” he said, “and he shall be here in five minutes.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120])</a></span>Then he walked away, and she bent her eyes upon her music-card, asking +herself if it was possible that not four full days had elapsed since the +first one left her to seek Von Ibn at her request. This time she did not +look after the messenger, she could not; she only felt able to breathe +and try to grow calmer so that whatever might—</p> + +<p>Ah, the long minutes!</p> + +<p>Then a voice at her side said, almost harshly:</p> + +<p>“You wish to speak to me, madame!”</p> + +<p>She looked up and straight into his eyes; their blackness was so cool +and hard that some women’s courage would have been daunted; but the +courage of Rosina was a mighty one that rose with all opposing +difficulties.</p> + +<p>“Why are you not <em>en route</em> to Leipsic?” she asked.</p> + +<p>“Why are you not in Constance?” he retorted.</p> + +<p>“Sit down,” she said, “and I will tell you.”</p> + +<p>“I do not wish to take the place of your friend,” he answered, with a +stab of sharpest contempt.</p> + +<p>“I think that he will not return for a little.”</p> + +<p>Von Ibn remained standing, in the attitude of one detained against his +inclination. She could not but resent the attitude, but she felt that +her need of the moment required the swallowing of all resentment, and +she did so. She was not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span> able to raise her eyes to his a second time, +but fixed them instead upon her card, and began in a low tone:</p> + +<p>“Monsieur, I intended going—”</p> + +<p>“I can’t hear what you say,” he interrupted.</p> + +<p>“You’ll have to sit down then; I can’t speak any louder; I’m afraid that +I shall cry,” in spite of herself her voice trembled at the last words.</p> + +<p>“Why should you cry?” he asked, and he sat down at the table beside her, +and, leaning his chin upon his hand, turned his eyes upon her with a +look that blended undisguised anger with a strange and passionate +hunger.</p> + +<p>She was biting her lip,—the under one,—unconscious of the fact that by +so doing she rendered the corners of her mouth quite distracting; but he +perceived both cause and result, and both the anger and the hunger in +his gaze deepened as he looked, apparently in a blacker humor than ever.</p> + +<p>“Why should you cry?” he said again, after a minute; “you are in a +beautiful spot, listening to most excellent music, and you had with you +(before I come) a friend very agreeable. Why should you cry?”</p> + +<p>She clasped her hands hard and fast together.</p> + +<p>“Oh,” she exclaimed, “I—I hardly know how to speak in the noise and the +crowd! I feel quite<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span> crazy! I don’t know what I am saying—” she stopped +short.</p> + +<p>He leaned a little towards her.</p> + +<p>“Let us walk outside a minute,” he said. “Monsieur will surely know that +we are not far. In the air it is better,—yes?”</p> + +<p>“But what will he think?”</p> + +<p>“<em>Mon Dieu</em>, let him think what he will! I also have had thinking this +night. Let him think a little.”</p> + +<p>He rose as he spoke, and she rose too. Already the anger in his eyes was +fading fast before the sight of her so genuine emotion. They went out +into the garden, and there she took up her explanation again.</p> + +<p>“You thought I stayed here because of that man, didn’t you?”</p> + +<p>“<em>Donnerwetter!</em>” he cried violently; “here he returns already again!”</p> + +<p>It was indeed the American, approaching as fast as the crowd would let +him. His face bore a curious expression. One might have gathered from it +that he was much more clever, or much more stupid, than the vast +majority gave him credit for being. The instant that he was near enough +to speak, he began in out-of-breath accents:</p> + +<p>“I’ve just met some people that I haven’t seen<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> in years, and they want +me to drive with them up by the University and see the town by +moonlight, and I wondered if I could find you here in three-quarters of +an hour—”</p> + +<p>Rosina looked at him helplessly, divining that he supposed a degree of +friendship between herself and Von Ibn which would cause his proposition +to be most warmly welcome.</p> + +<p>But Von Ibn spoke at once, coldly, but politely.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps madame will permit me to escort her to her hotel this evening. +If she will do so, I shall be most happy.”</p> + +<p>The American looked eagerly at Rosina.</p> + +<p>“I am going very soon,” she said; “perhaps that will be best.”</p> + +<p>He appeared puzzled.</p> + +<p>“If you’d rather I stayed—” he suggested.</p> + +<p>“No,” said Von Ibn sharply, “it is better that you go!” then he added, +in a somewhat milder tone, “it is very fine, the moonlight from the +University.”</p> + +<p>When they were alone, he was silent and led her out of the crowded +garden down upon the Quai. It was a superb night, and the moon and its +golden beams were mirrored in the lake. Little waves came running +tranquilly across the shivering silver sheet and tossing themselves<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span> +gently up against the stone-sheathed bank; some merry boat-loads were +drifting out among the shadows, listening to the music from the shore +and sending a silver echo of laughter to join in its accords.</p> + +<p>They walked on until something of their own tumult was stayed by the +stillness, and then Von Ibn said quietly:</p> + +<p>“Tell me of what you were saying.”</p> + +<p>“I was saying that you thought that I had remained here because of that +man, and yet it was really all an accident.”</p> + +<p>He shrugged his shoulders slightly.</p> + +<p>“But you are quite free,—and he seems very nice, and is of your own +country and all so agreeable.”</p> + +<p>“I was really too tired to go to Constance, but—”</p> + +<p>“Oh, madame, <em>je vous en prie</em>,” he interrupted, “no explanation is +needful. It does not interest me, I assure you.”</p> + +<p>“I did not want to go to Constance until Thursday,” she went steadily +on; “but I could not stay here because—because—”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” he interrupted, “all that I have understand,—I understand all.”</p> + +<p>“So,” she continued, “I packed to go, and meant to go, and then when you +told me that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span> you were leaving too, I thought that I might just as well +adhere to my—”</p> + +<p>“What is ‘adhere’?” he broke in; “that word I have never known before.”</p> + +<p>“It means—well—it means ‘stick to.’”</p> + +<p>“Glue paste?”</p> + +<p>She felt as if a clown had suddenly turned a somersault into the midst +of the death scene of Hamlet!</p> + +<p>“Not glue paste,” she explained carefully; “of course, in one way, it +means the same thing; but I meant that when I knew that you were going, +I felt that I might just as well do as I had originally intended doing, +and remain here to rest a little.”</p> + +<p>“And you repose by coming to the Tonhalle with a gentleman?” he asked in +a tone of smothered sarcasm.</p> + +<p>“I met him this afternoon as I was walking—”</p> + +<p>“Have you only know him first this afternoon?”</p> + +<p>“<em>Monsieur!</em>” she cried in horror, “I came on the steamer with him from +New York, and he went to college with my cousin!”</p> + +<p>Von Ibn gave another shrug.</p> + +<p>“You tell everything very cleverly,” he remarked; “but, my dear madame, +we have too many difficulties,—it is always that between us,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span> and—what +is your proverb?—no smoke without over a fire?—<em>Eh bien</em>, I begin to +grow weary.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t you believe what I have just told you?” she demanded.</p> + +<p>They were near the further end of the Quai where the crowd was thinnest +and the play of moonbeam and shadow most alluring. He stopped and looked +long upon the shining water, and then long upon her face.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” he said at last, “I do believe.” He held out his hand, “I do +believe now, but I must tell you that truly if I had been of a +‘<em>tempérament jaloux</em>,’ I would have been very angry this night. +Yes,—of a surety.”</p> + +<p>She looked away, with an impulse to smile, and her heart was +sufficiently eased of its burden to allow her to do so.</p> + +<p>“Shall we go to the hotel now?” she asked after a moment.</p> + +<p>“But you have not given me your hand?”</p> + +<p>She put her hand in his, and he pressed it warmly, and then drew it +within his arm as they turned to retrace their steps.</p> + +<p>“I like better to walk alone,” she said, freeing herself.</p> + +<p>“You are, perhaps, still angry?” he inquired anxiously.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span>“No, but I can walk easier alone. And I want you to tell me now why you +are not <em>en route</em> North, instead of staying here in Zurich.”</p> + +<p>“But I have been North,” he said eagerly; “I have been this day to +Aârburg.”</p> + +<p>“To Aârburg!—Where is that?”</p> + +<p>“Wait, I will make all plain to you,” he looked down upon her with the +smile that always proclaimed a complete declaration of peace, “it all +went like this: I see so plain that I make you to leave before you like, +that I am glad to go away and so make you quite free. It came to my head +like this,—I wanted to know something and by looking at your face and +saying that I must go to Leipsic for some one there, I see all that I +wish to know—”</p> + +<p>“What did you see?” Rosina interrupted.</p> + +<p>“I see plainly that you think it is some lady—”</p> + +<p>“I did not think any such a thing!” she cried hotly.</p> + +<p>He laughed and tossed his head.</p> + +<p>“And so as I really should go to Leipsic I take the train and go, and +then on the train I think why am I gone, and when I think again, I feel +to leave the train at Aârburg and telegraph, and when the answer come +that you are still here, I feel very strongly to return at once, and so +I do.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128])</a></span>Rosina looked up with a smile, and, meeting his eyes, was suddenly +overcome with a fear, vague and undefined, it is true, but not the less +real, as to whether she had been wise in bringing about this most +complete reconciliation.</p> + +<p>“But you must still go to Leipsic?” she asked presently.</p> + +<p>“Yes, after a little.”</p> + +<p>“I wish you had gone when you started.”</p> + +<p>“Why?”</p> + +<p>“I am sure that you, who always understand, know why.”</p> + +<p>“After a while will do,” he said easily, “when we are more tired of +ourselves.” He paused. “Perhaps Thursday,” he suggested.</p> + +<p>“Oh!” she exclaimed, in spite of herself.</p> + +<p>“Why ‘oh’?”</p> + +<p>“You are so positive that we shall be <em>ennuyés</em> by Thursday.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” he replied tranquilly, “we see so much of us together that it +cannot last long so. Indeed it was for that that I was quite willing to +go to-day, but on the train I begin to think otherwise, and my otherwise +thoughts are become so strong that I find myself obliged to get down at +Aârburg.”</p> + +<p>“And Leipsic?”</p> + +<p>“Ah, for that you were so charming to send<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span> for me to-night and tell me +how all has been I will tell you all the truth of Leipsic. It is there +that my professor lives, the man who has teach me all that I know. He is +to me the most dear out of all the world, for he gave to me my music, +which is my life and my soul. And so you may understand that I speak +truth indeed when I say that I have much interest in Leipsic.”</p> + +<p>Rosina nodded, a sympathetic smile upon her lips.</p> + +<p>“But we must go back to the hotel now,” she said sadly; “it is nearly +ten o’clock.”</p> + +<p>“And I may come to-morrow morning and we shall make a promenade +together, <em>n’est-ce pas</em>?” he said eagerly; “it is so good, you and I +together, these days. How can I make you know how I feel if you have not +the same feeling,—the feeling that all the clouds and all the grass are +singing, that all about us is perfect accord of sound, when we are only +free to laugh and to talk as we may please.”</p> + +<p>“But I ought to go on to my friends to-morrow,” she said, “you must know +that.”</p> + +<p>“But I will go there.”</p> + +<p>“To Constance?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, surely.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, monsieur, that will not do at all!”</p> + +<p>“Why will it not do at all?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130])</a></span>“I don’t want you following me to Constance as you did to Zurich.”</p> + +<p>“But I will not follow you; I will this time go on the same train with +you.”</p> + +<p>“Oh,” she said, in despair at the wide space between his views and those +of the world in general, “you cannot do that, it would not look well at +all.”</p> + +<p>He stared at her in surprise.</p> + +<p>“Who will it look unwell to?”</p> + +<p>“Don’t say ‘unwell,’ say ‘not well.’”</p> + +<p>“Not well; who will see it not well?”</p> + +<p>“Ah,” she said, shaking her head, “there is no telling who would see +only too well, and that is just the trouble.”</p> + +<p>Von Ibn knit his black brows.</p> + +<p>“I do not understand that just,” he said, after a moment. And then he +reflected further and added, “You are of an oddness so peculiar. Why +must the world matter? I am my world—nothing matters to me. <em>Vous êtes +tortillante!</em> you are afraid of stupid people and the tongues they have +in them. That is your drollness. And anyway, I may go to Constance if I +will. I may go anywhere if I will. You cannot prevent.”</p> + +<p>She looked off across the lake.</p> + +<p>“You ought to want to do what pleases me,” she suggested.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span>“But I do not,” he said vigorously; “I want to do what pleases me, and +you must want it too,—it will be much better for America when all the +women do that. I observe much, and I observe especially in particular +that. An American woman is like a queen—she does her own wish always, +and is always unhappy; in Europe she does her husband’s wish, and it is +much better for her and very good for him, and they are very happy, and +I am coming to Constance.”</p> + +<p>“But I have no husband,” said Rosina insistently.</p> + +<p>“It will be very good if you learn to obey, and then you can have one +again.”</p> + +<p>“But I never mean to marry again.”</p> + +<p>“I never mean to marry once, <em>surtout pas une Americaine</em>.”</p> + +<p>She felt hurt at this speech and made no reply.</p> + +<p>“But I mean to come to Constance.”</p> + +<p>“Monsieur, you say that we see too much of one another; then why do you +want to drive our acquaintance to the last limits of boredom?”</p> + +<p>“But you do not bore me,” he said; and then after a long pause he added, +“yet.”</p> + +<p>She was forced to feel that the “y” in “yet” had probably begun with a +capital.</p> + +<p>“I want to go to the hotel now,” she said, in a tired tone.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132])</a></span>“Let us go and get an ice or some coffee first; yes?”</p> + +<p>“Don’t keep saying ‘yes’ that way,” she cried impatiently; “you know +how it frets me.”</p> + +<p>He took her arm gently.</p> + +<p>“You are indeed fatigued,” he said in a low tone, “I have troubled you +much to-night. But I have trouble myself too. Did you see how unhappy I +was, and was it so that you sent for me? <em>Dites-moi franchement</em>.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” she answered, with simplicity.</p> + +<p>“And why did you care?”</p> + +<p>“I didn’t want you to think what I knew that you were thinking.”</p> + +<p>“Did you care that I was unhappy?”</p> + +<p>“I cared that you thought that I would lie.”</p> + +<p>“I was quite furious,” he meditated; “I came from the train so late and +found that you were gone out. <em>Je ne me fâche jamais sans raison</em>,—but +I had good reason to-night.”</p> + +<p>“You had no right to be angry over my going out, and I had just as much +cause for displeasure over your returning as you had over my going.”</p> + +<p>“No,” he said quickly, “for it was a compliment to you that I return, +and no compliment at all to me that you stay after I am gone so as to +visit the concert with monsieur.”</p> + +<p>She laughed a little.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133])</a></span>“I hope that you will never behave so again; you were so unbearably rude +that I was sorry to have sent for you. If I had not,” she asked, with +real curiosity, “if I had not, would you have spoken to me after a +while?”</p> + +<p>He shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>“<em>Je ne sais pas</em>,” he replied with brevity; and then looking down at +her with one of his irresistible smiles he added, “but I find it +probable.”</p> + +<p>She smiled in return, saying:</p> + +<p>“Do undertake to never be angry like that again.”</p> + +<p>“Again!” he said quickly and pointedly; “then I <em>may</em> come to +Constance?”</p> + +<p>Her mind was forced to take a sudden leap in order to rejoin his rapid +deduction of effect from cause.</p> + +<p>“No, no,” she cried hastily, “you must not think any more of Constance, +you must go to Leipsic, just as you intended doing.”</p> + +<p>“But you said—” he began.</p> + +<p>“I meant, in the future, if we should ever chance to meet by accident.”</p> + +<p>His brow darkened.</p> + +<p>“Where?” he asked briefly.</p> + +<p>“Who can tell,” she answered cheerfully; “people are always meeting +again. See how that man of the steamer met me again to-day.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134])</a></span>“But you have hear of him since you come?” he demanded, a fresh shade of +suspicion in his tone.</p> + +<p>“Never! Never a word until he came out of the Promenade and spoke to me +this afternoon.”</p> + +<p>Von Ibn thought about it frowningly for a little and then decided it was +not worth his pains.</p> + +<p>“I would not care to meet again as he,” he declared carelessly; “how he +was sent to fetch me, and then he must go alone while we speak together, +and then make that tale of a drive when there was no drive by the +University, only a knowledge that he was much not wanted.”</p> + +<p>“Do you think he was not really invited to go to drive?” she asked, +opening her eyes widely.</p> + +<p>“Of a certainty not. But he could see he was not wanted by us. When he +came near, you really looked to weep.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, <em>no</em>!” she cried, in great distress.</p> + +<p>“Yes; it was just so.”</p> + +<p>There was a pause while she pondered this new phase of herself, and +after a while he went on:</p> + +<p>“There is something that I do not understand. Why do you desire so much +to speak to me to-night and then not desire me at Constance? <em>Ça—je ne +le comprends pas!</em>”</p> + +<p>“You do understand,” she said; “I know you do, and you know that I know +that you do.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135])</a></span>He looked at her for a few seconds and then asked:</p> + +<p>“How long are you in Constance?”</p> + +<p>“I do not know.”</p> + +<p>“And then where do you go?”</p> + +<p>“Probably to Munich.”</p> + +<p>“With always that Molly?”</p> + +<p>“I do not know whether they will go there or not. I believe they are +going to Bayreuth and then to Berlin.”</p> + +<p>He reflected for the space of half a block.</p> + +<p>“I should really go to Leipsic,” he said at last.</p> + +<p>“Then why don’t you go?” she retorted, more in answer to his tone than +to his speech.</p> + +<p>“I might perhaps go to Leipsic while you are in Constance,—<em>perhaps</em>.”</p> + +<p>Heavy emphasis on the last “perhaps.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, do!” she pleaded.</p> + +<p>“Are you going to Bayreuth?”</p> + +<p>“No, I don’t think so; they all come down to Munich right afterwards, +you know.”</p> + +<p>“But it is not the same in Munich. If you had been in Bayreuth you would +know that. It is not the same at all. And ‘Parsifal’ is only there.”</p> + +<p>He paused, but she made no answer.</p> + +<p>“I am going to Bayreuth,” he said, “and then I shall come to Munich.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136])</a></span>He made the last statement with an echo of absolute determination, but +she continued to keep silence.</p> + +<p>“In Munich I shall see you once more?”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps.”</p> + +<p>“Where will you be?”</p> + +<p>She told him.</p> + +<p>“And I shall be in the ‘Vierjahreszeiten’; why do you not come there?” +he added.</p> + +<p>“Because I love the <em>pension</em> with my whole heart,” she declared +fervently; “I was there for an entire winter before my marriage; it is +like home to me.”</p> + +<p>He stopped, pulled out his note-book and carefully wrote down the name +and address; as he put it up again, he remarked:</p> + +<p>“That was droll, what you said to-night, that you would never marry +again! Where do you get that idea?”</p> + +<p>“From being married once.”</p> + +<p>“I have it from never being married any, and I have it very strong. Have +you it very strong?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Rosina decidedly, “very strong indeed.”</p> + +<p>“Then when we know all is only nothing, why may I not come to +Constance?”</p> + +<p>“Because you can’t,” she said flatly, “I don’t want you to come.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137])</a></span>“But I will be very good, and—”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” she said interrupting; “I know, but to prevent further +misunderstanding, I may just as well tell you that I want all my time in +Constance for my other friend—”</p> + +<p>They were at the door of the hotel, and she had her foot upon the lower +step; he was just behind her, his hand beneath her elbow. She felt him +give a violent start and drop his hand, and, looking around quickly to +see what had happened, she forgot to end her sentence in the emotion +caused by the sight of his face. A very fury of anger had surcharged his +eyes and swelled the veins upon his temples.</p> + +<p>“So!” he said, in a low tone that almost shook with intense and angry +feeling, “that is why I may not come! He goes, does he? <em>Bête que je +suis</em>, that I did not comprehend before!”</p> + +<p>Rosina stared at him, motionless, for the space of perhaps ten seconds, +and then an utter contempt filled her, and every other consideration +fled.</p> + +<p>She ran up two or three steps, crossed the hall, and passed the +<em>Portier</em> like a flash, flew up the one flight of stairs that led to her +corridor, and broke in upon Ottillie with a lack of dignity such as she +was rarely guilty of.</p> + +<p>“Ottillie,” she exclaimed, panting under the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span> weight of many mixed +feelings, “I want to leave for Constance by the first train that goes in +the morning. I don’t care if it is at six o’clock, I’ll get up. Ring and +find out about everything, and then see to the bill and all. I <em>must</em> +go!”</p> + +<p>Ottillie stood there, and her clever fingers were already unfastening +her mistress’ hat-pins.</p> + +<p>“Madame may rest assured,” she said quietly, “all shall be as she +desires.”</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>Meanwhile below stairs Von Ibn had entered the café, lit a cigarette and +taken up one of the evening journals.</p> + +<p>He appeared to look over the pages of the latter with an interest that +was intent and unfeigned.</p> + +<p>But was it so?</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span>Chapter Nine</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 8px;"> +<img src="images/quote.png" width="8" height="7" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p class="cap">I SHALL certainly not tell Molly one word about these latest +developments,” Rosina said firmly to herself, and she remade the +resolution not once but a hundred times during the train ride of that +early Wednesday morning. She was too tired from excess of emotion, and +no balance of much-needed sleep, to feel anything but unhappy over the +termination of the preceding evening.</p> + +<p>Everything was over now, and the only glory to be reaped in any +direction would be the dignified way in which Molly should be kept in +ignorance of all that had occurred.</p> + +<p>Outside, the freshness of a Suabian morning lay over valley and +mountain. The country was beautiful with the charm of midsummer’s +immediate promise, which spread over the fields of ripening grain and +lost itself among the threading rivulets, or in the shadow of forest and +mountain. The white-plastered farmhouses with the stable-door at one +end, the house-door at the other, and the great sweep of straw-thatched<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> +roof sloping down over all, peeped out from among their surrounding +fruit-trees. Old, old women knit peacefully under the shadow of the +stone-bound well, and little, little children tumbled about their knees +in the grass. Out in the garden at one side the boys and girls were busy +gathering berries or vegetables for the market of next day. Yokes of +oxen passed slowly to and fro upon the shaded roads, their high, +two-wheeled carts loaded to the very top; beside a pond a maiden herded +geese; upon a hill a boy lay sleeping, his sheep nibbling the herbage +near by. It was all quaint and picturesque, and to the American eyes +surpassing strange to see, but those two particular American eyes before +which all the panorama was displayed, happened just then to be blind to +everything except one vivid spirit-photograph, and grew moist each time +that they pictured that afresh.</p> + +<p>“No, I shall not tell Molly one word,” she repeated mentally; “I can’t +tell her part,—I won’t tell her all,—so I just shan’t tell her +anything,” and then she stared sightlessly out of the wide-open window, +and knew not that it was the dregs of her own evaporated anger which +veiled the sunlit landscape in a dull-gray mist.</p> + +<p>The train came slowly in by the banks of the Bodensee, and halted at the +Kaufhaus soon after<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span> eleven o’clock. The Kaufhaus is that delightful old +building where Huss was tried before the great Council. Built for a +warehouse, it is now again a warehouse, Huss and his heresy having been +but a ripple on the tranquil centuries of its existence.</p> + +<p>Molly (who had been telegraphed to) was at the Gare to meet her friend, +and managed to smother her surprise over the sudden turn of events with +complete success.</p> + +<p>“Let the maid take the boxes to the hotel,” she said, after having +greeted the traveller, “and you and I will just have a nice drive before +dinner, and a good long nap right afterwards.”</p> + +<p>Rosina submitted to be led passively to a cab, and the strength of her +resolution was such that before they reached the spot where Huss was +burnt, Molly was in possession of the last detail as to the preceding +evening. She said never a word in reply, being much engaged in looking +out of the side of the cab to see if she could see the monument, an +action which struck her unhappy friend as heartless in the extreme. When +they drew up beside the iron fence, both got out and peered between the +bars at the huge ivy-covered boulder within the enclosure.</p> + +<p>“Was he burned <em>on</em> this stone?” Molly called<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span> to the cabman in German; +“now why does he laugh, do you suppose?” she asked in English of Rosina.</p> + +<p>“Oh,” the latter replied wearily, “you used the word for ‘fried,’ +instead of the word ‘burned,’ but it doesn’t matter,” she added with a +heavy sigh.</p> + +<p>“I wonder whether he was looking towards the woods or towards the town +when they lighted him!” Molly pursued with real interest.</p> + +<p>Rosina felt that such talk was horribly frivolous, her own tale of woe +considered, and made no reply; so they went back to the cab, and then +Molly clasped her hands in her lap and became serious.</p> + +<p>“I would forget all about him, if I was you,” she said; “you will never +get any satisfaction out of a man who is always going in for jealous +rages like that.”</p> + +<p>Rosina felt with a shock that Molly was of a nature more intensely +unsympathetic than any which she had hitherto encountered. She looked at +the Rhine, wondered if it flowed past Leipsic, and wished that she had +kept to her original determination and said nothing at all about any of +it.</p> + +<p>“I’m glad that I did as I did,” she said, with an effort to speak in a +tone of indifference<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span> (the effort was a marked failure). “I’m sure that +I want to forget him badly enough,” she added, and swallowed a choke.</p> + +<p>Molly put her hand upon hers and nodded.</p> + +<p>“Certainly, my dear; it was the only thing to do with a man like that. +You explained once, and once is enough, for one night, surely. Forget +him now and be happy again.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t let us talk about it any more,” said Rosina, feeling bitterly +that Molly lightly demanded oblivion of her when all her inclinations +were towards tears.</p> + +<p>They drove some distance in silence, and then Rosina said slowly:</p> + +<p>“Do you suppose that I shall ever see him again now?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, if you want to. One always sees the men again that one wants to +see again.”</p> + +<p>“Are you sure?”</p> + +<p>“I never knew it to fail.”</p> + +<p>“How does that happen?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know why it is, but it always does happen. Effect of mental +telepathy, perhaps. The man knows that he is to be given another chance, +and comes to get it, I fancy.”</p> + +<p>“But Monsieur von Ibn is so <em>very</em> singular!”</p> + +<p>“Every man is singular!”</p> + +<p>“My husband wasn’t. And he wasn’t ever<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span> the least bit jealous,” she +stopped to sigh. “I like jealous men!” she added.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Molly, dryly, “so I observed.”</p> + +<p>“He never lost his temper either,” Rosina continued. “We never had +anything to make up. And making up is so delicious. Oh, me!” she sighed, +and her eyes filled with tears again.</p> + +<p>“Never mind,” said Molly, consolingly, “you’ll soon be making it up this +time.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t you think,” said Rosina, slowly, “that he ought to have sent some +sort of an apology last night; it could have been put under the door, no +matter how late it was, you know?”</p> + +<p>“He isn’t that sort of a man, I fancy.”</p> + +<p>“But his behavior was so unpardonable!”</p> + +<p>“Yes, but he doesn’t see that.”</p> + +<p>“Then I don’t care if I never do meet him again,” Rosina exclaimed +passionately, and the next instant she burst into tears. “He’s so +interesting,” she sobbed; “and his way of speaking is such an +everlasting joy to me; and he never means to marry; and I never mean to +marry; and I know that he really cared a great deal about me; and now +it’s—all—all over!”</p> + +<p>Molly leaned over and kissed her, drew a comforting arm around her +waist, and gave her an affectionate squeeze.</p> + +<p>“Don’t take it so awfully to heart, my dear,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span>” she whispered soothingly; +“we all have troubles of one kind, if not of another. Here’s a long +letter come by the morning post from my dear gray-caped lieutenant, and +it’s just full of the worst sort of desperation over our mutual affairs. +He knows that we can’t possibly marry without a certain amount of money, +which we have neither of us got, and so there you are!”</p> + +<p>“How much is it?” Rosina asked dully. She felt that she ought to try and +make an effort to interest herself in the lives of others, even if her +own had so completely crashed in.</p> + +<p>“Oh, it’s something awful in pounds, but in those Italian <em>lire</em>!—why, +it’s not to be thought of for a moment. He thinks that he had best chuck +up the army and take me to America instead!”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Molly, don’t let him do that! We haven’t any Italians in America +except organ-grinders and miners, and the Ambassador, of course!”</p> + +<p>“I knew it wouldn’t do,” said the Irish girl. Then she shrugged her +shoulders and laughed.</p> + +<p>“But then I never did intend to marry him, anyhow!”</p> + +<p>They drove back to the hotel, and Rosina’s eyes were fairly presentable +when the <em>Portier</em> came out to receive them.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span>“There is a letter just come for madame,” he said, as they entered the +Kreuzgang; “it is in the office; I will bring it at once.”</p> + +<p>“There!” Molly whispered, “do you see!”</p> + +<p>Rosina trembled slightly as she held out her hand and saw the hotel +stamp of Zurich on the envelope. Then she tore it open and pulled out +the single folded sheet contained therein.</p> + +<p>It was her bill, receipted, which Ottillie had let fall in the haste of +their early departure!</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>Madame la Princesse Russe having a migraine that afternoon, the two +friends had the pleasure of a tête-á-tête dinner at half-past six. They +sat by one of the great windows of what used to be the chapel of the +monastery, but is now the dining-room of the Inselhaus, and enjoyed the +sweet lake breeze, while their tongues ran delightfully. Rosina, +liberally refreshed by a long nap, and mightily reinforced as to her +pride by the last terrific blow of the letter, was in the best possible +spirits, and her gayety quite rivalled, if it did not surpass, that of +her companion.</p> + +<p>As the waiter was removing the salad, a shadow fell suddenly athwart the +floor at their side, and Molly, looking quickly upward, beheld—the man!</p> + +<p>He was in evening dress, calm, cool, and smiling,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span> and neither the +surprised face of the one, nor the violent start of the other shook his +composure in the least.</p> + +<p>“<em>Vous allez bien, mesdames?</em>” he asked politely, and then, speaking to +the waiter with authority:</p> + +<p>“Lay another place here,” he said, indicating the end of the small +table, “for I shall dine with you, <em>n’est-ce pas</em>?” he added, looking +straight at Rosina.</p> + +<p>She appeared to have been stricken suddenly dumb, and was so evidently +incapable of speech that Molly came boldly to the front with the +un-original remark:</p> + +<p>“When <em>did</em> you come?”</p> + +<p>“By Schaffhausen, that <em>train-rapide</em> that does go so fast. I had been +more wise to have come this morning by the train as madame, for this +afternoon the tourists were very terrible—also the heat.”</p> + +<p>“Was it dusty?” she went on.</p> + +<p>“I believe you well that it was. And you,” he continued, turning to +Rosina, who sat helplessly staring at her plate, and was very pale +except for a crimson spot on either cheek, “had you a pleasant ride?”</p> + +<p>“No, she hadn’t,” said her faithful friend; “she arrived all used up.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148])</a></span>“You were made too tired, and do not feel well?” he asked, addressing +the scarlet cheeks again; “truly, you look much so. What has arrived in +Zurich to make you like that?”</p> + +<p>He put the question in a tone the intensity of which forced her to lift +her eyes to his. Molly did not see the glance, for the infinitude of her +own experiences led her to find the moment favorable for gazing out of +the window in a sort of rapt admiration for the Insel rose-bushes in the +foreground and the placid Bodensee beyond.</p> + +<p>It was the waiter who jarred them all three back to the knowledge of +mundane things by bringing soup for the latest arrival and ices for his +two companions.</p> + +<p>“Ah, now I may eat!” the gentleman exclaimed in a tone of deep +satisfaction, and began at once.</p> + +<p>“You must not be surprised over me,” he said to Molly, with a slight +smile.</p> + +<p>“I was not surprised,” she reassured him.</p> + +<p>“Because I have not eaten to-day before,” he explained.</p> + +<p>“Really?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, of a truthfulness. I am most <em>drôle</em> as that. I may never eat when +I am much troubled.”</p> + +<p>“Dear me, have you been troubled to-day?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149])</a></span>He looked at Rosina, whose face blazed yet deeper.</p> + +<p>“I have said that I may not eat,” he repeated simply.</p> + +<p>Molly laid down her spoon and glanced out of the window again. Her +feminine instinct divined what was to be.</p> + +<p>“And madame your friend, she is not ill, I hope?” he inquired politely, +as the waiter removed his soup.</p> + +<p>“No,” said the Irish girl, slowly, “or—that is,—yes, yes, she is.”</p> + +<p>“And you must go at once to her,” he cried, springing up to draw back +her chair, “I am so sad for that.”</p> + +<p>Molly rose to her feet.</p> + +<p>“I’m sorry, too,” she said, nodding a smiling thanks; “but you see I’ve +no choice.” And then she went coffee-less away to laugh alone +above-stairs.</p> + +<p>Von Ibn sat down again and ate his fish in silence. He did not appear +greatly perturbed over the twin-silence which was opposite him, rather +seeming to reflect upon the fresh reconciliation which was building +itself on such a substantial foundation of blushes.</p> + +<p>Finally, when the fish was gone, he leaned somewhat forward and spoke +very low.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span>“<em>Oh, que j’étais malheureux hier le soir!</em>” he said in a tone that +trembled with feeling; “you can figure to yourself nothing of what it +was! And this morning—when I send and find that you are gone!—I must +know then that you were very furious of me.”</p> + +<p>She raised her eyes, but to the window, not to him.</p> + +<p>“I was,” she said briefly, but not the less tensely.</p> + +<p>“When you are run last night—on the stairs like that, you know!—it +should have been amusing to see you run so fast; but I was not any +amused whatever. But why did you run?” he questioned, interrupting +himself; “did you think to leave me always then, there, forever? For an +instant I had the idea to go after you, but the <em>Portier</em> was there, and +I have thought, ‘What may he think?’”</p> + +<p>“Oh,” she exclaimed, distressedly, “I altogether forgot him! What do you +suppose he did think?”</p> + +<p>Von Ibn shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>“<em>Rien du tout</em>,” he said easily; “he has think most probably that you +have lost something from you—a pin or a button, you know. When a woman +runs so, that is what every one knows.”</p> + +<p>“Do they?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151])</a></span>“<em>Natürlich!</em> I always know.”</p> + +<p>“Oh!”</p> + +<p>He finished his dinner in short order and then looked a smiling inquiry +into her eyes.</p> + +<p>“We shall go now on to the terrace for the coffee; yes?” he asked as he +rose, and she rose too and went with him to where their little table was +spread among the dusk and the roses. The band in the Stadtgarten was +playing delightfully, and its sweetness came across water and park to +search out their very souls. The Bodensee spread all beyond in a gray +peace that seemed to bid the very leaves upon the trees to slumber. The +steamers were coming to their harbor rest in answer to the flaming +summons flung them by the searchlight at the head of the pier. They +glided in in slow procession, shivered at anchor, and submitted to the +lulling of the lake’s night breath.</p> + +<p>Von Ibn rested his elbow on the table and his chin upon his hand. He +looked dreamily out across the water for a long time before saying:</p> + +<p>“You pardon my impoliteness then of last night? I am not come to trouble +you here, only to ask that, and something else, and then I go again at +once.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I will pardon you,” said Rosina gently. She too was looking +thoughtfully out into the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span> twilight on the water. “Only don’t do so +again.”</p> + +<p>“It is that that I would ask,” he went on, looking always at the lake, +never at her; “that is what I would beg of you. Let us promise +sincerely—let us take a vow never to be angry again. I have suffer +enough last night both with my own anger and from yours. I will believe +what you may tell me. And let us never be angry so again.”</p> + +<p>“It is you who are so unreasonable,” she began.</p> + +<p>“No,” he interrupted quickly, “not unreasonable. <em>Jamais je ne me fâche +sans raison!</em>”</p> + +<p>“Yes, you do too. Just think of last night, you were twice angry for +nothing at all. It was terrible!”</p> + +<p>He stared afar and seemed to reflect doubly.</p> + +<p>“He was <em>bête</em>, that man,” he said at last.</p> + +<p>“He wasn’t either. He was very nice; I don’t know how I should have +gotten along coming over if I had not had him on the steamer to amuse +me.”</p> + +<p>“You could have done very well without him at Zurich,” said Von Ibn +doggedly; “myself, I did not like him the first minute that I see him.”</p> + +<p>“When did you first see him?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153])</a></span>“He was there at the table beside you.”</p> + +<p>Rosina laughed a little. He turned towards her and smiled.</p> + +<p>“Then you will forgive me?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, this one time more. But never, never again.”</p> + +<p>He turned to the lake and consumed five minutes in assimilating her +remark. Then his look came back to her.</p> + +<p>“I was awake so much last night that my eyes burn me; do they show it?”</p> + +<p>She looked into his eyes, and they burned indeed—burned with a latent +glow that forced her own to lower their lids.</p> + +<p>“Do they look strangely to you?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“No,” she said in a low tone.</p> + +<p>“That is odd, because in all my life they have never look at any one as +they look at you to-night.”</p> + +<p>She drew herself together suddenly.</p> + +<p>“Don’t talk foolishly,” she said distinctly.</p> + +<p>“That was no foolishness; it is true.”</p> + +<p>“It is just the sort of thing that all men say, and I like you because +you do not say things like all other men.”</p> + +<p>“Do all other men say to you that?”</p> + +<p>“Not just that, but its equivalents. Men in general are not very +original.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154])</a></span>He took out his cigarette case and contemplated its bas-relief of two +silver nymphs for several seconds.</p> + +<p>“You may,” said his companion, smiling.</p> + +<p>“May what?”</p> + +<p>“May smoke.”</p> + +<p>“But I am going to, anyway.”</p> + +<p>“Oh.”</p> + +<p>He looked at her with an air of remonstrance.</p> + +<p>“This is not your parlor,” he reminded her.</p> + +<p>“No,” she said meekly; “I stand corrected.”</p> + +<p>He lit the cigarette and threw the match into a rose-bush.</p> + +<p>“I think that I will go and find Molly,” she suggested presently.</p> + +<p>“Why?”</p> + +<p>“I think that she would be able to leave madame by this time.”</p> + +<p>“But if she can leave her then she will come to us, and I do not want +her; do you?”</p> + +<p>“I always want her.”</p> + +<p>“That is absurd. Why do you want her? I never want another man when we +speak together.”</p> + +<p>“But I am very fond of Molly.”</p> + +<p>“So am I most affectionate of my professor in Leipsic, but I never once +have wished for him when I was with you.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155])</a></span>“That’s different.”</p> + +<p>“No, it is quite one. Do not go for mademoiselle; I have something to +say to you, and there is only to-night to say it.”</p> + +<p>“What is it?”</p> + +<p>“It is that I have really to go away. This time I must. I go to-morrow +morning without fail.”</p> + +<p>“I am so glad,” she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” he said, with a quick glance; “is it really so that my going +makes you pleasure? Truly I only come in return for your kindness of +last night—when you send for me, you know. I think that I wish to +repay. But now, if we are quite friends, I must go very early to-morrow +in the morning.”</p> + +<p>“I am glad that you are going,” she said quietly, “and you know why. And +I shall be glad when we meet again,” she added in a lighter tone.</p> + +<p>Then a long silence fell between them, while to their ears came the +famous symphony of a famous composer. When the music ceased he spoke +again.</p> + +<p>“You will write to me?”</p> + +<p>“I am not a letter writer.”</p> + +<p>“But you will send me a few lines sometimes?”</p> + +<p>“Are you going to write me?”</p> + +<p>“<em>Si vous voulez de mes nouvelles.</em>”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span>“Yes, I do.”</p> + +<p>“I will tell you,” he said, tossing his cigarette into the lake; “I will +send you a post-card, as I tell you before—you recall? yes.”</p> + +<p>“No,” said Rosina, with decision, “I don’t want post-cards; you can +write me in an envelope or not at all.”</p> + +<p>He looked at her thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>“I have some very small paper,” he said at last, “I can use that; I use +it to write my family on.”</p> + +<p>She almost laughed.</p> + +<p>“That will be all right,” she said, “and I will answer on my +correspondence-cards. They only hold half a dozen lines, and they have +my monogram on them and are really very pretty.”</p> + +<p>“You can write on the back too,” he suggested.</p> + +<p>“I shan’t have any more to say than will go easily on the front, +though.”</p> + +<p>“And I shall see you next in August in Munich?”</p> + +<p>“<em>Espérons!</em>” with a smile.</p> + +<p>He stood up suddenly.</p> + +<p>“Let us walk to the Garten,” he suggested; “it is good to walk after +dinner a little.”</p> + +<p>She rose too, very willingly, and they went towards the bridge that +connects the Insel with the mainland.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span>“Did you love your husband?” he asked as they passed above the moat-like +stream.</p> + +<p>“Tremendously.”</p> + +<p>“For long?”</p> + +<p>“Until after we were married.”</p> + +<p>He halted short at that.</p> + +<p>“It was too bad to stop just then.”</p> + +<p>Rosina felt that there were safer places to pause than there on the +railroad tracks, and went on to the other side.</p> + +<p>“It was too bad to stop at all,” she said, when he came too.</p> + +<p>“<em>Assurément.</em>”</p> + +<p>They walked along the bank and came into the Stadtgarten, full of people +laughing and talking with the liveliness that is so pleasant to see and +so difficult, apparently, to import, unless it be in the steerage. +Perhaps it is the Custom House which takes all the gayety out of the +First and Second Classes before they can get ashore in America.</p> + +<p>“We shall have to say our parting very soon,” the man said presently; +“we have both travelled to-day, and I must go in a very early hour +to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” she replied, “I am much more weary to-night even than I was last +night.”</p> + +<p>“If we are tired we might again have trouble,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span>” suggested her companion +wisely. Then he added quickly, “But, no, never again,—I have promise +that.”</p> + +<p>“Shall we not return to the hotel now?” she asked.</p> + +<p>“But why will you go back so quick?” he asked in an injured tone; “do +you want to be so soon alone?”</p> + +<p>“I thought that you wanted to be.”</p> + +<p>“I want to sit down and not walk ever,” he said, pausing by an empty +table in the open-air café. “What made you stop?” he went on, looking at +her, she having paused where he did, naturally.</p> + +<p>“I stopped because you did.”</p> + +<p>“Because I did! that has no sense.”</p> + +<p>“Then I’ll go on alone,” and she moved away.</p> + +<p>He rejoined her in three steps, laughing.</p> + +<p>“Why do you walk off like that?” he demanded.</p> + +<p>“Because you said that there was no sense in my stopping.”</p> + +<p>He looked at her in great amusement.</p> + +<p>“<em>Que vous êtes tordante!</em> I asked you why you stopped loving your +husband?”</p> + +<p>She stared.</p> + +<p>“Why, it’s ever so long since we were speaking of that. How funny you +are!”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159])</a></span>He turned her back towards the empty table.</p> + +<p>“Let us sit down here and talk, it may be the last time for long.”</p> + +<p>She hesitated, thinking of Molly.</p> + +<p>“It is so nice here,” he declared, persuasively; “only for a few minutes +we stay.”</p> + +<p>She sat down forthwith; he followed suit. A maid came and took his +order, and then he clasped his hands upon the table before him and was +still, appearing to be overtaken by some sudden and absorbing train of +thought.</p> + +<p>After a little the music recommenced, and his soul returned to his eyes +with a quick upblazing light. He reached out his hand and touched hers.</p> + +<p>“Listen!” he exclaimed imperatively; “you go to learn something now. Pay +much notice.”</p> + +<p>The violins of the orchestra were pouring forth their hearts in a sweet +treble song, whose liquid liaisons flowed high above the background of a +dark monotony of single chords. The air was singularly full of feeling, +and reached forth its individual pleading to each individual listener.</p> + +<p>“You have hear that?” he whispered with a smile.</p> + +<p>“Never,” she whispered in return.</p> + +<p>“You shall wait a little,” he murmured, resting his chin on his hand and +turning his eyes on the lake again; “in a moment you shall hear.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160])</a></span>At that instant the song appeared to terminate, and bass and treble ran +together in long, sweeping arpeggios; and then, out over the merry +crowd, out over the infinite peace of the Bodensee, there rang and +resounded four notes,—E, F, F sharp, G; four notes, the pain, the +prayer, the passion of which shrieked to the inmost mysteries of every +hearing heart.</p> + +<p>Rosina started; her companion turned quickly towards her.</p> + +<p>“It is what you told me of at Lucerne that night on the steamer?” she +asked, with no question in her voice.</p> + +<p>He moved his head slowly in assent to her certainty. The cascading song +was already running its silvery course again; he leaned far towards her.</p> + +<p>“Have you comprehend, do you think?” he asked.</p> + +<p>She nodded. And then she too leaned her chin on her hand, and looked to +the lake to guard her eyes, while the music invaded and took complete +possession of her senses.</p> + +<p>“Do you play that on your violin?” she asked, when all was over.</p> + +<p>“There is no music that I may not play,” he replied, “unless I have +never see it, or hear it, or divine it for myself.”</p> + +<p>“Do you play the piano also?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161])</a></span>“Only what I must. Sometimes I must, you know. Then I say to my hands, +‘You shall go here, you shall go there!’ and they go, but very badly.”</p> + +<p>She looked straight at him with a curious dawning in her eyes.</p> + +<p>“I wonder, shall we ever make any music together?” she murmured.</p> + +<p>“Much,” he said tritely.</p> + +<p>She was conscious of neither wonder nor resistance, as if the music had +cast a spell over her self-mastery.</p> + +<p>“I want to hear you play,” she said, with an echo of entreaty.</p> + +<p>He shook his head, brushing a lock of hair off of his temple as he did +so. There was a sort of impatience in each movement.</p> + +<p>“Not these days; no! I played once after I saw you first, but only once. +Since that the case is locked; the key is here.” He interrupted himself +to draw out his keys, and separating one from the rest held it up to +her. “Let us hope that in Munich, perhaps.”</p> + +<p>The waitress had returned with their ices. He watched her arrange them, +and she watched him. The heavy circle under his eyes was especially +noticeable this night, the eyes themselves especially laughless.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span>“You are glad that I go?” he asked suddenly as he picked up his spoon +and plunged it into the saucer before him; “yes?”</p> + +<p>“I shall be more glad when I know that you are really gone.”</p> + +<p>“But this time it is sure. This time it is really a true going.” He +stopped and broke a piece of cake into tiny morsels, pushing them +together into a neat little pile. “Why were you unhappy in your +husband?” he asked slowly.</p> + +<p>“He drank,” she replied.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps he was unhappy?”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps.”</p> + +<p>“And you?”</p> + +<p>“Beyond a doubt.”</p> + +<p>He took another bit of cake and crumbed that up as he had the first.</p> + +<p>“Don’t do that.”</p> + +<p>“Why shall I not?” with an air of surprise.</p> + +<p>“It isn’t right.”</p> + +<p>“But I shall pay for it,” he said remonstrantly.</p> + +<p>“It’s bad manners, anyhow.”</p> + +<p>“What does it matter if I like, and pay for it too?”</p> + +<p>“Well, then, if you must know, it makes me horribly nervous!”</p> + +<p>He looked at her quickly.</p> + +<p>“Are you nervous?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163])</a></span>“Yes, when people waste cake like that.”</p> + +<p>He sighed and stopped his play.</p> + +<p>“Did you ever love after?” he asked presently.</p> + +<p>“No, never! Good Heavens, once was enough!”</p> + +<p>“Was your husband so very bad?”</p> + +<p>“He wasn’t bad at all; he was only disagreeable.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps he made you nervous?” he queried.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps,” she answered dryly.</p> + +<p>There was a long, long pause. The band now played “<em>Doch Einer Schoner +Zeit</em>,” and some peasants in the native costume sang the words.</p> + +<p>Finally he pushed his plate away and crossed his arms upon the table; +his eyes were very earnest.</p> + +<p>“Once I loved,” he said; “I have speak of that to you before.”</p> + +<p>She made no reply.</p> + +<p>“It was no passion of a whole life, but for a boy, as I was then, it was +much. I was quite young, and, <em>Gott</em>! how I <em>did</em> love! She was such a +woman as says, ‘I will make this man absolutely mad;’ and she did so. +She made me crazy—<em>tout-à-fait fou</em>; and then, when I could only +breathe by her eyes, she showed me that she was uncaring!”</p> + +<p>He stopped, stared sightlessly out at the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span> black water beyond, and then +turned towards her.</p> + +<p>“Is it so in <em>your</em> mind towards me?” he asked, and in his voice and +eyes was that heartrending pathos which once in a lifetime a man’s soul +may come to share with childhood’s heavy sorrows.</p> + +<p>She drew a quick breath. The pointed roofs of the Inselhaus off there +beyond the trees printed themselves darkly and forever upon her brain; +the scattered lights in the windows, the inky spots where the ivy +trailings were massed thickest,—all those details and a dozen others +were in that instant photographed upon her spirit, destined to +henceforth form the background to the scene whose centre was the face +opposite to her, all of the expression of which seemed to have condensed +itself into the burning gaze of those two great eyes, so vastly sad.</p> + +<p>“Oh, monsieur,” she said, with a tone of deep appeal, “believe me, I +have never done so cruel a thing as that in all my life!”</p> + +<p>“Are you to all men as to me?”</p> + +<p>“I hope so.”</p> + +<p>“That American in Zurich! when you met him again was it as to meet me +again?”</p> + +<p>“But he is no especial friend of mine.”</p> + +<p>“And am I especial?—Am I?—Yes?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165])</a></span>“Yes,” she said slowly, “I feel as if I had known you all my life.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” he answered quickly, “just so I feel also.”</p> + +<p>He put up his hand and again brushed the loose lock of his wavy hair +back from his forehead.</p> + +<p>“<em>Vraiment</em>,” he exclaimed, “I begin to feel that it is impossible that +I go to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, but you must,” she cried, much alarmed.</p> + +<p>“We are so happy; why can we not let this pleasure last?”</p> + +<p>“You <em>must</em> go!” she reiterated with decision.</p> + +<p>“We understand so well,” he went on, without noticing her words; “you +understand, I understand. I wish nothing of you, I require nothing of +you, only the friendship—only these good hours that we know together, +only the joy of our sympathy. Why can I not be where you are everywhere? +<em>Warum nichts</em>?”</p> + +<p>“It isn’t possible!” she said firmly.</p> + +<p>He turned about in his seat and called for the reckoning. After it was +paid they went together back towards the hotel.</p> + +<p>“You have told me that you will never marry again,” he said presently, +“and I have told you that I also intend never. But—” he stopped short. +The hotel court was there before them,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span> and the scent of some night +flowers came on the evening breeze from those beds of riotous color +which fill the central space of the old Cloister.</p> + +<p>“Let us walk once around the Kreuzgang,” he suggested, “and after that +we will go in.”</p> + +<p>She assented, and they followed the vivid outline of Constance’s history +as portrayed in the large frescoes upon the inner wall of the vaulted +passage.</p> + +<p>“I do not breathe here,” he said suddenly; “come into the garden with me +once again. But for a moment? I beg—I pray!”</p> + +<p>They went out on to the terrace, passing through the Refectory, now +thick with smoke and scintillating with beer-steins.</p> + +<p>“You say that you will never marry,” he said again, as they encircled +the base of Huss’ Tower, “and I tell you that I also have the idea to +never marry. But—”</p> + +<p>He paused again, just by that bit of the old monastery wall which +extends out towards the bathing-houses.</p> + +<p>“But if—<em>if</em>,” he emphasized the monosyllable with marked +emphasis,—“<em>if</em> I asked you to marry me, what would you say?”</p> + +<p>Rosina did not stop for an instant’s consideration.</p> + +<p>“I should say ‘no.’”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span>He received the blow full in his face.</p> + +<p>“Why?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“I do not want another husband. I don’t like husbands. They are all +alike.”</p> + +<p>“How?”</p> + +<p>“You can’t tell a thing about them beforehand; they always change, and +are different after marriage from what they were before.”</p> + +<p>“I shall never change,” he declared positively.</p> + +<p>“They all say that.”</p> + +<p>“But I speak truth!”</p> + +<p>“They all say that too.”</p> + +<p>“But with me it will arrive;” then he added, “with me it will arrive +that I shall never change, because I shall <em>never</em> marry.”</p> + +<p>His remark was such a complete surprise to her that she could hardly +master her shock for a moment.</p> + +<p>“If that was the point that you were leading up to,” she said finally, +“I’m certainly glad that I did not say ‘yes.’”</p> + +<p>He surveyed her, smiling.</p> + +<p>“I particularly said ‘if,’” he reminded her; “I said, ‘<em>if</em> I asked +you to marry me,’ you know?”</p> + +<p>Rosina felt a strong inclination to bring the evening to a close. She +wanted to be alone and think.</p> + +<p>“We must go in,” she said.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168])</a></span>“I also feel it,” he answered.</p> + +<p>So they went in. The hall and staircase were quite deserted. He walked +with her to the top of the first flight.</p> + +<p>“Do we leave good-bye here?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” she said smiling; “I think so.”</p> + +<p>He stood looking at her, and out of the depths of his nature various +phantoms strove into shape.</p> + +<p>“It is well that I go,” he said seriously; “after all, we are not +children, you and I, and however we laugh it is always that, that we +really are not children.” He put out his hand and took hers. “I shall be +away, and the time will be long, and—” he paused abruptly.</p> + +<p>Her eyes almost closed beneath the unbearable heat of his gaze.</p> + +<p>“Shall you remember me?” she asked, faintly this time.</p> + +<p>“Yes, much.”</p> + +<p>Then she opened her eyes and withdrew her hand.</p> + +<p>“For how long?” she said as before.</p> + +<p>He was still staring down at her.</p> + +<p>“Who can say!”</p> + +<p>“For three weeks? for four? for six?”</p> + +<p>“<em>Je ne sais pas</em>,” he said briefly; “if I think too much I must come +back, and that will not be wisely.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169])</a></span>“We must not stand here,” she said suddenly; “adieu, au revoir!”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” he replied sombrely, “we must part now.”</p> + +<p>He looked at her, and his eyes locked hers hard and fast for a long +minute. She felt ill, faint, her breath seemed failing her. Then—</p> + +<p>He seized her hand and pressed it so strongly against his lips that his +lips parted and she felt his teeth against her flesh.</p> + +<p>“<em>Je vous aime!</em>” he whispered, almost inaudibly. “Adieu!”<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span></p> + +<p class="back"><a href="#contents">Back to Contents</a></p> + +<div class="link"><a name="they" id="they"> </a></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 392px;"><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[171–172]</a></span> +<img src="images/gs03.jpg" class="jpg" width="392" height="600" alt="" title="" /><br /> +<span class="caption">“They stood together on the Maximilianbrücke”</span> +</div> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span><a name="ii" id="ii"></a><span class="smcap">Part II</span><br /> +<br /> +THE BEATING OF THE WAVES</h2> + +<hr class="hr4" /> + +<h2>Chapter Ten</h2> + + +<p class="cap">IT was September in Munich. They stood together on the Maximilianbrücke, +and, looking down into the gray and black turbulence of the Isar, felt +themselves to be by contrast most tranquil and even-tempered. The little +river rushed beneath them, forming a wealth of tiny whirlpools above its +stone-paved way, its waters seeming to clash and struggle in a species +of mimic, liquid warfare, and then, of a sudden, victor and vanquished +fled wildly on together, giving place to other waves with their other +personal scores to settle.</p> + +<p>The banks on either side were beginning to show some touches of autumnal +scarlet among those masses of vine whose ends trailed in the water +below, and among the shrubs of the Promenade the same blood stain +betrayed the summer’s death at the hands of the merciless frost king. +The Peace Monument was there, piercing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span> heaven with its golden wings; +the Lucaskirche towered to the east; above them all sat the lofty +Maximilianeum, that open-work crown of Munich, whose perfectly curved +approach and double arcaded wings must joy the soul of every +artist-nature that lingers near it.</p> + +<p>“How old are you?” the man said suddenly.</p> + +<p>Rosina jerked her consciousness up out of the bed of the Isar.</p> + +<p>“No gentleman at home would ask a lady that,” she told him, thus showing +great presence of mind.</p> + +<p>He smiled and twisted his moustache.</p> + +<p>“But I am not a gentleman at home,” he said pleasantly, “I am a +gentleman travelling.”</p> + +<p>“How old are you?”</p> + +<p>“I have thirty-three years.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I haven’t,” she said with decision; “you might think that I was +forty, but that is only because I have had so much experience.”</p> + +<p>He looked at her in a dubious, troubled way.</p> + +<p>“I did not think that you had forty: I did not get that just perhaps. +You have not truthfully forty, have you?”</p> + +<p>Rosina laughed in unfeigned amusement.</p> + +<p>“No, monsieur, I am not thirty even. I told you that if I seemed to be +forty, it was because I had had so much experience.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175])</a></span>“So much experience?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“You feel that you have had experience?”</p> + +<p>“I know it.”</p> + +<p>“Experience as, <em>par exemple</em>, me?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>He looked at her and smiled, shaking his head.</p> + +<p>“Oh, madame, you say that, not at all knowing how much experience I have +had.”</p> + +<p>She raised her eyebrows slightly and turned to walk on. He followed at +her shoulder, and when they came to the little stone stair that leads +down to the Promenade, he halted and glanced expressively off among the +paths and shade.</p> + +<p>“There isn’t time,” she said, shaking <em>her</em> head now.</p> + +<p>He went down two steps alone, and then held out his hand with that +irresistible smile; she hesitated, looked helplessly around, and then, +like all women who hesitate, was forthwith lost, swallowed up, in the +maze of those wandering paths. Von Ibn secured his cane well beneath his +arm and lit a cigarette.</p> + +<p>“Do I ever now ask you ‘may I’?” he said.</p> + +<p>“You never did ask me ‘might you?’” she replied.</p> + +<p>He drew two or three satisfied puffs.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span>“It is good to be so friends,” he commented placidly, and then he took +his cane into his right hand again and swung it with the peculiarly +vigorous swing which in his case always betrayed the possession of an +uncommon degree of <em>bonne humeur</em>. “And now for your experience?” he +asked after a little. “It is that which I will to hear.”</p> + +<p>“Did you ever go to a masked ball?”</p> + +<p>“<em>Mais, naturellement.</em>”</p> + +<p>“Well, so did I.” She paused to note the effect.</p> + +<p>He threw a quick glance of undefined question at her.</p> + +<p>“Masked?” he demanded.</p> + +<p>“Oh, dear no! thickly veiled, and ’way upstairs in a gallery.”</p> + +<p>“Were you greatly amused ’way upstairs in your gallery?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, really; there were ever so many men there that I knew.”</p> + +<p>“Did they come upstairs in the gallery?”</p> + +<p>“No indeed, no one knew that I was there. But it interested me to see +whom <em>I</em> knew—”</p> + +<p>“Was I there?” he interrupted.</p> + +<p>“Oh, it wasn’t here! it was ever so long ago, while my husband was +alive.”</p> + +<p>“Did you see your husband?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177])</a></span>“Yes,” she said flushing, “and he was just like all the other men. He +wore no mask, and he did not care one bit who might recognize him.”</p> + +<p>“You had been better not gone,” said the man decidedly.</p> + +<p>“Yes, I think so; I lost all my love for my husband that night, and +killed all my faith in mankind forever.”</p> + +<p>“Why did you be possessed to go?”</p> + +<p>“I went because I did not want to be deceived in the way that many women +are deceived.”</p> + +<p>Von Ibn laughed.</p> + +<p>“You know now all of everything, you think?”</p> + +<p>“I know more than most other women do.”</p> + +<p>“You would have known much more yet if you had worn a mask,” he told her +very dryly.</p> + +<p>She did not reply, and after a few minutes he continued:</p> + +<p>“And now, when you know everything, and can no more be deceived, are you +so most happy?”</p> + +<p>“I do not know,” she said slowly.</p> + +<p>“How have you lost your faith?” he inquired; “what in especial can no +more deceive you?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t believe in men,” she declared; “I don’t believe in anything +that they say, nor in anything that they promise. And I don’t believe +one bit in love!”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178])</a></span>The man stopped by an empty bench.</p> + +<p>“We have walked so long,” he remarked parenthetically; and she sat down, +parenthetically also, so to speak.</p> + +<p>“That is sad,” he said, digging in the gravel with his cane, “not to +believe in love, or in the truth of a man! and you are a woman, too! +Then there is no more truth and love for you.”</p> + +<p>Rosina felt disheartened. A ready acquiescence in her views is always +discouraging to a woman. What is the use of having views, if they are +just tamely agreed to at once?</p> + +<p>“I think perhaps men really mean what they say when they say it,” she +began; “but, oh dear, they can’t stick to it afterwards. Why, my husband +told me that my lightest wish should be his law, and then what do you +think he did?”</p> + +<p>“He did perhaps kiss you.”</p> + +<p>“No, he went and bought a monkey!”</p> + +<p>“What is a monkey?”</p> + +<p>“Don’t you know what a monkey is?”</p> + +<p>“If I know I will not trouble you to ask.”</p> + +<p>“<em>C’est un singe,—affe</em>; now you know.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes; I was thinking of a monk, and of how one told me that you had +them not with you.”</p> + +<p>Then he scraped gravel for a long time, while her mind wandered through +a vista of monks<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span> and monkeys, and finally, entering the realm of the +present day, paused over the dream of a hat which she had seen that +morning in the Theatinerstrasse, a hat with a remarkably clever +arrangement of one buckle between two wings; it was in the store that +faced—</p> + +<p>“I am an atheist,” said her companion, rising abruptly from his seat.</p> + +<p>“Apropos of what?” she asked, decidedly startled, but rising +too,—“apropos of the monkey?”</p> + +<p>“<em>Comment?</em>” he said blankly.</p> + +<p>“Nothing, nothing!” quickly.</p> + +<p>They walked on slowly among the shadows which were beginning to gather +beneath the trees; after a while he spoke again.</p> + +<p>“I tell you just now that I am an atheist, and that is very true. Now I +will make you a proposal and you shall see how serious I mean. I will +change myself and believe in God, if you will change yourself and +believe once more in men.”</p> + +<p>“Can you believe in God or not just as you please?” she asked +wonderingly.</p> + +<p>“I am the master of myself,” he replied straitly; “if I say that I will +pray to-night, I will pray. And you must say that you will believe,” he +insisted; “you must again have a faith in men, and in their truth, and +in honor.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span>” Then he paused lengthily. “And in love?” he continued; “say +that you will again believe in love?—you will, will you not? yes?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know that I can do it, even if I want to,” she said musingly; +“looking on at life is so terribly disheartening, especially with us in +America, you know.”</p> + +<p>“Oh,” he said quickly, “but I do not want you to believe in love in +America; I talk of here in Munich.”</p> + +<p>“I suppose you mean yourself?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” he said most emphatically,—“me.”</p> + +<p>She could not help laughing a little.</p> + +<p>“You do really amuse me so much,” she apologized.</p> + +<p>A workman in a dirty blouse and a forlorn, green Tyrolese hat, the +cock’s plume of which had been all too often rained upon, passed close +beside them. Von Ibn, nothing daunted, seized her gloved hand and +pressed it to his lips; she freed it quickly and swept all their +environage with one swift and comprehensive glance.</p> + +<p>“If any one that knew us should see you!” she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>He calmly gazed after the now distant workman.</p> + +<p>“I did not know him,” he said; “did you?”</p> + +<p>Then she was obliged to laugh again.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span>“You are always so afraid of the world,” he continued, remonstrating; +“what does it make if one do see me kiss your hand? kissing your hand is +so little kissing.”</p> + +<p>He paused a moment and smiled whimsically.</p> + +<p>“I did really laugh alone in my room the other night. I sit there +smoking and thinking what a bad fright you have always when I will to +take your hand and kiss it—you fear ever that some one shall not be +there to see. Then I think, if I would give you a true kiss, that would +be to your mind so awful,—the fear of a seeing, you know,—that we must +then go in a cellar and bolt nine doors first, probably.”</p> + +<p>He laughed, but she did not.</p> + +<p>“When I go into a cellar with you,” she said coldly, “and allow nine +doors bolted, you may kiss me, and I pledge you my word not to scream.”</p> + +<p>A dead silence followed her remark, and lasted until Von Ibn broke it, +saying abstractedly:</p> + +<p>“One does go underground to visit the breweries;” after which he +meditated some while longer before adding, “but they never would bolt +the doors, I think.”</p> + +<p>Rosina felt any comment on these words to be unnecessary and continued +upon the even tenor of her way. They were close by the Luitpoldbrücke<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span> +now, and she went towards the bridge, which lay upon their homeward +route. Von Ibn followed her lead placidly until they were upon the +opposite bank, when he suddenly halted.</p> + +<p>“Have you lost something?” she asked, stopping also.</p> + +<p>“No, but I asked you some question just now and you have never reply.”</p> + +<p>“What was it?”</p> + +<p>“About believing.”</p> + +<p>“But I am going so soon,” she objected.</p> + +<p>“How soon?”</p> + +<p>“In December.”</p> + +<p>“It is then all settled?” he inquired, with interest.</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“But you can unsettle it?” he reminded her eagerly.</p> + +<p>“I don’t want to unsettle it—I want to go.”</p> + +<p>He stared at her blankly.</p> + +<p>“How have I offended you?” he asked after a while.</p> + +<p>“You have not offended me,” she said, much surprised.</p> + +<p>“But you say that you want to go?”</p> + +<p>“That is because I feel that I must go.”</p> + +<p>“Why must you go? why do you not stay here this winter?—or, hold! why +do you not go to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span> Dresden? Later I also must go to Dresden, and it would +be so <em>gemüthlich</em>, in Dresden together.”</p> + +<p>“It will be <em>gemüthlich</em> for me to get home, too.”</p> + +<p>“Do you wish much to go?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; I think that I do.”</p> + +<p>Then she wondered if she was really speaking the truth, and, going to +the edge of the bank, looked abstractedly down into the rapid current.</p> + +<p>“What do you think?” he asked, following her there.</p> + +<p>She turned her face towards him with a smile.</p> + +<p>“I cannot help feeling curious as to whether, when I shall really be +again in America, I shall know a longing for—for the Isar, or not?”</p> + +<p>“I wonder, shall I ever be in America,” he said thoughtfully; “and if I +ever should come there, where do you think would be for me the most +interesting?”</p> + +<p>“<em>Chez moi</em>,” she laughed.</p> + +<p>He smiled in amusement at her quick answer.</p> + +<p>“But I shall never come to America,” he went on presently; “I do not +think it is a healthy country. I have an uncle who did die of the yellow +fever in Chili.”</p> + +<p>“There is more of America than Chili; that’s in South America—quite +another country from mine.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I know; your land is where the men<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span> had the war with the negroes +before they make them all free. I study all that once and find it quite +dull.”</p> + +<p>“The war was between the Northern and Southern States of North +America—” she began.</p> + +<p>“<em>Ça ne m’intéresse du tout</em>,” he broke in; “let us walk on.”</p> + +<p>They walked on, and there was a lengthy pause in the conversation, +because Rosina considered his interruption to be extremely rude and +would not broach another subject. They went a long way in the darkness +of a heavily clouded September twilight, and finally:</p> + +<p>“Where did he buy it?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“Where did he buy what? where did who buy what?”</p> + +<p>“The monkey.”</p> + +<p>“Oh! I don’t know, I’m sure.”</p> + +<p>Then there was another long silence.</p> + +<p>“To-morrow,” he announced, “I am going to the Tagernsee, and—”</p> + +<p>“I’m not,” she put in flatly.</p> + +<p>He turned his head and stared reprovingly.</p> + +<p>“How you have say that! not in the way of good manners at all.”</p> + +<p>“No,” she said, with an air of retort, “I am with you so much that I am +beginning to forget all my good manners.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span>“Am I so bad mannered?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, you are.”</p> + +<p>“How?”</p> + +<p>“You interrupt, and you are frank to a degree that is always impolite, +and sometimes really awful.”</p> + +<p>“And you,” he exclaimed eagerly, “how bad you also are! you never even +try to be agreeable, and when I speak with great seriosity you are often +more amused than before, even.”</p> + +<p>Rosina tried to look sorry, but found it safer, even in the twilight, to +look the other way.</p> + +<p>“The truth is,” he went on vigorously, “I am very much too good with +you! I have never taken my time to an American before, and I am always +fearful. I have been a fool. I shall not be a fool any more.”</p> + +<p>“How do you intend to begin to grow wise?”</p> + +<p>“You will see.”</p> + +<p>The threat sounded dire, but they were now at the corner by the +Maximiliansstrasse, and supper was too near for her to feel downcast.</p> + +<p>“I hope that we are to have potato salad to-night,” she said cheerfully.</p> + +<p>He continued to meditate moodily.</p> + +<p>“Oh, we are much too much together,” he announced at last.</p> + +<p>“Well,” she replied, “if you go to the Tagernsee<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> to-morrow that will +give us a little mutual rest.”</p> + +<p>“I may miss the train,” he added thoughtfully; “if I do—”</p> + +<p>“You can take the next one,” she finished for him.</p> + +<p>He looked at her witheringly.</p> + +<p>“If I do miss the train, I will carry my violin to you and we will make +some music in the evening.”</p> + +<p>Rosina stopped, fairly paralyzed with joy.</p> + +<p>“Oh, monsieur,” she cried, “will you really?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, that is what I will; <em>if</em> I miss the train.”</p> + +<p>They had entered beneath the long arcade, which was dark and altogether +deserted except for one distant figure.</p> + +<p>“I almost want you to miss your train,” she said eagerly. “You do not +know how very, very anxious I am to hear you play.”</p> + +<p>“I can miss it,” he said thoughtfully; “it is very simple to miss a +train. One can sleep, and then here in Munich one may say the cabman a +wrong Gare. If I say ‘Ostbahnhof’ when I must go from the Starnberg, I +shall surely miss the train, you know.”</p> + +<p>He looked at her gravely and she burst out laughing at the picture he +had drawn for her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span> mind, because there is all of three or four miles +between those two particular stations.</p> + +<p>“But I don’t want you to miss the train,” she said presently. “You can +play for me after you come back, I—”</p> + +<p>At this moment the figure which had been coming towards them suddenly +resolved itself into that of a stalwart young man, who, just as he was +directly in front of them, stopped, seized Rosina in his arms and kissed +her. She very naturally screamed in fright, and her escort delivered a +blow at the stranger which sent him reeling backwards against one of the +stone pillars.</p> + +<p>The man, who was well dressed and appeared to be a gentleman, recovered +himself with surprising quickness, and laughed oddly, saying:</p> + +<p>“My Lord, what a welcome!”</p> + +<p>At the sound of his voice Rosina screamed afresh, this time in quite +another tone, however, exclaiming:</p> + +<p>“It’s my cousin Jack!”</p> + +<p>“It is your—some one you know?” stammered Von Ibn. “Then I must demand +a thousand pardons.”</p> + +<p>“Not at all,” said Jack, taking his hand and shaking it heartily; +“that’s all right! don’t say a word more. The trouble was that when I +saw Rosina I forgot that she had gotten out of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span> habit of being +kissed. Of course I scared her awfully. Are you over it yet, dear?”</p> + +<p>Rosina stood between the two men, and appeared completely stunned by her +cousin’s arrival.</p> + +<p>“Where did you drop from, anyhow?” she asked, finding her tongue at +last.</p> + +<p>“Came over to go back with you; left Paris last night.”</p> + +<p>“Where will you stay? There isn’t an empty corner in the <em>pension</em>, one +has to write ever so long ahead.”</p> + +<p>“I’m going to stay at the Vierjahreszeiten, just beside you. I’m all +right.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Von Ibn suddenly, “you are very right; I stay there too.”</p> + +<p>Rosina thought despairingly, “They’ll see a lot of one another, and Jack +will dislike him and he’ll hate Jack.”</p> + +<p>By this time they were come to her door and paused there.</p> + +<p>“I’m going in with you,” the cousin said. “Madame was so glad to see me +again that she wanted me to come back and sit next to her at supper. I +was awfully glad to see her. She’s even younger and prettier than when I +last saw her—when you and I were kids there that winter, don’t you +remember?”</p> + +<p>Von Ibn was staring sombrely at Rosina and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span> she was sure that Jack would +notice it, and wished that he wouldn’t. Then he gave a little start and +held out his hand.</p> + +<p>“I shall not come to-night,” he said, “and to-morrow I go to the +Tagernsee; so it is ‘good-bye’ here.”</p> + +<p>She felt choked.</p> + +<p>“Good-bye,” she said, keenly aware of being watched, but striving to +speak pleasantly notwithstanding. He shook her hand, raised his hat, and +left them.</p> + +<p>Then her cousin swung the big <em>porte</em> open and they entered the passage +and went towards the stairs. At the first step he paused and said in a +peculiarly pointed tone of voice:</p> + +<p>“Well, are you going to marry him?”</p> + +<p>She jumped at the suddenness of the question, and then, recovering +herself quickly, answered coldly:</p> + +<p>“Of course not.”</p> + +<p>“Why of course not?”</p> + +<p>Her neck took on a quite new poise—not new to the man behind her, +however.</p> + +<p>“I asked you, ‘Why of course not’?” he repeated.</p> + +<p>“You know how foolish such a question is.”</p> + +<p>“It isn’t foolish. Yourself considered, it’s the most natural question +in the world.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190])</a></span>“You never met me before when I was walking with a stranger, and then +asked me such a thing.”</p> + +<p>“This man’s different. Some one wrote home that you were going to marry +him. You can imagine Uncle John! I was sent for from the beach and +shipped by the first thing that sailed after my arrival.”</p> + +<p>Rosina stopped on the first landing to stare in tranceful astonishment.</p> + +<p>“Some one wrote!” she ejaculated faintly. “Who wrote?”</p> + +<p>“Never you mind who wrote. Whoever it was set uncle thinking, and I was +posted off to look him up.”</p> + +<p>“When did you come over?”</p> + +<p>“Landed in Hamburg the last of August.”</p> + +<p>“Where have you been ever since?”</p> + +<p>“Been looking him up.”</p> + +<p>Rosina began to mount the second staircase; she appeared completely +bewildered.</p> + +<p>“It’s very nice of uncle,” she said about the fourth step, “and of +course I’m awfully obliged to whoever wrote home; but I’m not going to +marry him, really.”</p> + +<p>Jack whistled.</p> + +<p>“Well,” he said cheerily, as they attained the second landing, “I know +all about him now, anyway;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span> and if you ever do want to go ahead, you can +be sure that he’s all right.”</p> + +<p>“I knew that he was all right,” she said quietly; “every one in Europe +knows that he’s all right.”</p> + +<p>“He’s a first-class boxer, anyhow,” the cousin declared. “Lord, what a +blow that was! And I did not mean to frighten you at all, either; I +thought that you saw me coming.”</p> + +<p>“How was I to know that it was you? I supposed that you were in New +York. I did not think that there was a man on this continent who had a +right to kiss me. And even if there was I shouldn’t be expecting him to +do so in public. You never kissed me in the street yourself before. What +possessed you to do so this time?”</p> + +<p>She faced about on the stairs as she spoke, and he stopped and drew a +deep breath or two. It takes time to become acclimated to the stairs +abroad.</p> + +<p>“Don’t be vexed at me,” he implored, “or I shall think that you are not +glad that I came; and you are, aren’t you?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, of course I am.”</p> + +<p>“And after supper to-night we’ll go out and take a good old-fashioned +tramp and talk a lot, won’t we?”</p> + +<p>They were now before the door of the <em>pension</em> and he was pressing the +electric bell. She sighed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span> a resigned sigh of utter submission, nodded +acquiescently, and waited beside him.</p> + +<p>Anna, a maid whose countenance left much to be divined at pleasure, +finally let them in. When she saw that the lady had changed her escort, +her face fell and she slightly shook her head as if regretful that one +who was so generous should own openly to the vice of fickleness. They +went into the long hall and Jack paused to hang his hat upon one of the +hooks in that angle by the door; then he overtook his cousin and they +went together to the salon, the pretty little salon with its great +window, tall white-tiled stove, piano, corner-ways divan, tabouret, +table of magazines, quaint Dutch picture of Queen Wilhelmina, and the +vase in the corner—that green vase from whose stem hangs the +flower-like body of a delicate porcelain nymph.</p> + +<p>“You can’t smoke here, you know,” she cautioned him. “If you want to +smoke you must go into the corridor.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t want to smoke,” he said. “I’ll look out of the window. I like +to watch the people.”</p> + +<p>So she left him there and sought Ottillie.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>After supper that night they did go to walk; and if Rosina’s cousin came +abroad with a mission he certainly went in for fulfilling it +vigorously.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span>“Who wrote you about him, anyhow?” she demanded at last, when her +patience was nearly exhausted by the mercilessness of his +cross-examination. She was inwardly furious at whoever had done so, but +it seemed wisdom to conceal her fury—for the present at least.</p> + +<p>“You can’t travel about all summer with the same man everlastingly at +your heels, without other people’s seeing him as well as yourself.”</p> + +<p>“But some one person must have written. It can’t be that several people +would bother to.”</p> + +<p>“You won’t ever know who wrote, so don’t you fret.”</p> + +<p>They were crossing the Max-Joseph Platz diagonally, and a light flashing +from a passing trolley seemed to suddenly illuminate her brain.</p> + +<p>“I bet I do know,” she cried.</p> + +<p>“I bet you don’t.”</p> + +<p>“It was a man; now wasn’t it?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, it was a man; but I won’t say a word more.”</p> + +<p>She smiled, triumphant in her woman’s intuition.</p> + +<p>“It was that man at Zurich,” she exclaimed; “wasn’t it?”</p> + +<p>He turned into the Residenzstrasse and made no reply.</p> + +<p>“It was, wasn’t it?” she insisted.</p> + +<p>“I shan’t tell.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194])</a></span>“You needn’t tell. I know that it was and you know that it was too, so +I’m satisfied.”</p> + +<p>They went along past the two sentinels who guard the gate of the royal +palace, and emerged on the large open space that spreads before the +Feldherrnhalle. From there the Ludwigsstrasse stretches straight out and +away to the Siegesthor, stretches in one magnificent splendor of breadth +and boulevard and electric lights. They took the right-hand side and set +off at a pace neither swift nor slow—just such a pace as will allow +sufficient breath for ample conversation.</p> + +<p>“You know you’ll marry again, Rosina, no matter what you may say; you +know that, don’t you?”</p> + +<p>“No, I don’t.”</p> + +<p>“Nonsense!”</p> + +<p>“Well, I’m sure that I won’t for a long time.”</p> + +<p>“Of course you can’t until the two years are out, but they’re out this +October; and you know the more dead-set you are against doing anything +the surer you are to do it. We all know that just by the light of the +past.”</p> + +<p>She elevated her eyebrows and made no reply.</p> + +<p>“You’ve got so much money that naturally we couldn’t hear that any one +was following you continually, without wanting to know what he was +after. I should think you could see how that would strike Uncle John.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195])</a></span>“Monsieur von Ibn doesn’t mean to marry any more than I do,” she +declared positively.</p> + +<p>“Doesn’t he? How do you know?”</p> + +<p>“He told me so himself.”</p> + +<p>“When?”</p> + +<p>“Ever so many times.”</p> + +<p>He laughed and stopped to examine one of the posters of the +“Elfscharfrichters,”—the one of the cadaverous lady all in black, with +her hands outspread.</p> + +<p>“What interests you in him, anyhow?” he asked after a little.</p> + +<p>“Can’t a woman enjoy being with a man without wanting to marry him? I +like him because he’s so original.”</p> + +<p>“He’s original all right,” Jack reflected; “that’s very, very true. He’s +the first man who ever thought of knocking me down for kissing you.”</p> + +<p>“It was because I screamed. Why didn’t you write that you were coming?”</p> + +<p>“I wanted to arrive unexpectedly and see for myself.”</p> + +<p>“Well, did you see?”</p> + +<p>He chuckled.</p> + +<p>“Yes, and felt too. He doesn’t intend that any one else shall kiss you.”</p> + +<p>Rosina whirled, her eyes sparkling with anger.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span>“I’ll never forgive you if you say another thing like that,” she cried +hotly.</p> + +<p>The cousin judged it advisable to suggest diverging from the +Ludwigsstrasse, and extending their promenade in the direction of the +Wittelsbach Palace. Dark streets have a naturally subduing effect, and +he knew what an upheaval his arrival had produced even better than she +did.</p> + +<p>They went towards the Caserne, and were in the Améliesstrasse before +either began another subject. And even then it was really not a new one, +because Jack, having a definite end in view, could not lose sight of it +for a minute.</p> + +<p>“Why do you think that you don’t want to get married again?” he said, +courageously returning to the fight.</p> + +<p>“I don’t think anything about it. I know that I don’t want to get +married again!”</p> + +<p>“Von Ibn seems to be a mighty nice sort of a fellow. I’ve met ever so +many people who told me lots about him. He’s got quite a property for +these men over here, and he’ll have two jolly places and a title, too. +And the family won’t kick over his marrying any one; they’ve been at him +to get married for years and years. He’s the only son, you know.”</p> + +<p>“All right,” she said dryly.</p> + +<p>“Have you anything personal against him?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197])</a></span>“No; but I know that I can see all that I want of him without marrying +him; and as long as we do not get married we have the delightful +privilege of being able to separate the instant that we grow tired of +one another. And the ability to stop when you’ve had enough is a great +thing.”</p> + +<p>“Has he bored you any yet?”</p> + +<p>“Not yet. Oh, Jack, you ought to hear him talk. He said yesterday that +we must go somewhere early before the cool grew too hot.”</p> + +<p>Jack regarded her sympathetically.</p> + +<p>“I’d certainly marry him,” he said, with decision. “If he can say things +like that offhand, only think what he’d be to live with day after day.”</p> + +<p>Rosina was silent for a moment, and then she gave a violent shiver.</p> + +<p>“Oh,” she exclaimed, in a voice that echoed like a low cry, “I don’t +believe that I ever <em>can</em> marry again—it’s so <em>terrible</em>!”</p> + +<p>Jack took her hand and drew it closely within his arm.</p> + +<p>“Don’t say that,” he said earnestly. “Every one knows that you didn’t +have a fair show first time. Your husband was—Well, you know what he +was.”</p> + +<p>“I should say that I did know what he was.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198])</a></span>“I always wondered if you just wanted to get your hands on a big +establishment.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, what makes you say such things? You know that I was desperately in +love with him—as much so as a girl can be.”</p> + +<p>“Do you feel anything like it again now?”</p> + +<p>She shook her head.</p> + +<p>“No, indeed; I feel that I may get tired of monsieur any day.”</p> + +<p>They turned down towards the Ludwigsstrasse and Rosina appeared to be +thinking deeply. At last she spoke, and her accents were firm as +granite.</p> + +<p>“I do not believe that I ever <em>could</em> marry again.”</p> + +<p>Jack shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>“There’s no string on you,” he declared lightly.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>The next morning, as the lady was stirring her whipped cream into her +chocolate, Ottillie entered with a note:</p> + +<div class="block"> +<p>“<span class="smcap">Dear Rosina</span>,—Von Ibn and I are leaving for the Tagernsee by the early +train. Think we’ll be gone four or five days.</p> + +<p class="center">“Always yours,</p> +<p class="right">“<span class="smcap">Jack.</span>”</p> +</div> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span>Chapter Eleven</h2> + + +<p class="cap">IT was three o’clock on the last day of September, and the last day of +September had been a very rainy one. Little draggled sparrows quarrelled +on the black asphalt of the Maximiliansstrasse because it was wet and +they came in for their share of the consequent ill-humor; all the cabs +and cabmen and cab-horses were waterproofed to the fullest possible +extent; all the cocks’ plumes in the forlorn green hats of the forlorn +street-sweeping women hung dolefully and dejectedly down their backs. +People coming to the Schauspielhaus lowered their umbrellas at the +entrance and scooted in out of the drizzle; people coming out of the +Schauspielhaus raised their umbrellas and slopped away through the +universal damp and spatters.</p> + +<p>All of which but served to deepen the already deep melancholy and +<em>ennui</em> of Rosina, who leaned in her window across the way, staring upon +the outer world with an infinite sense of its pitiful inadequacy to meet +her present wishes, and a most profound regret that her cousin had ever +crossed the ocean on her account.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span>For they had not returned from the Tagernsee. On the contrary the +expedition had stretched to other “sees,” to the Herrn-Chiemsee, to +Salzburg, and now she held in her hand a hastily pencilled scrawl, +brought by the two o’clock post, which said:</p> + +<div class="block"> +<p class="center">“Ho for Vienna. Always did want to see Buda-Pesth.</p> +<p class="right">J.”</p> +</div> + +<p>And nothing more!</p> + +<p>“It’s so like a man,” she told herself without troubling to think just +what she did mean by the words. “Oh, dear! oh, <em>dear</em>!” and she turned +from the window and flung herself despairingly into one of the big red +velvet chairs, preparing to read or to cry as the fancy might seize her.</p> + +<p>There came a light tap at the door and then it opened a very little.</p> + +<p>“Oh, pardon me,” cried a sweet, sweet voice, “I think you are perhaps +gone out!”</p> + +<p>Then the door opened and the speaker showed herself. It was the daughter +of the house, an ideally blonde and bonny German girl. She came across +the room and her face shaded slightly as she asked:</p> + +<p>“You have no bad news? no?”</p> + +<p>“No,” said Rosina, forcing a smile; “I’m only very cross.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201])</a></span>“Cross? Why cross? You are but laughing at me. You are not really +cross.”</p> + +<p>Rosina was silent; her lip quivered slightly.</p> + +<p>“Oh,” said Fraülein quickly. “I am come that I may ask you a favor! The +parlor has a workman to make the window again; it is not good closed, +and the French lady wishes to call on you. May she come here?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” Rosina said, “I shall be so very glad to have her come here, and +Ottillie can bring us some tea after a while.”</p> + +<p>She dried her eyes openly in preparation for the visit to be.</p> + +<p>“You are lonely to-day,” said Fraülein sympathetically. “I am glad that +your cousin did come.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Rosina, “but he went away so soon again.”</p> + +<p>Her eyes immediately refilled.</p> + +<p>“You love each other so very much in America,” said the German girl +gently; she stood still for a minute and then smiled suddenly. “I will +tell madame to come here,” she added, and left the room.</p> + +<p>Rosina went back to the window and her unseeing contemplation of the +outdoors. Presently some one knocked and she turned, crying:</p> + +<p>“<em>Entrez!</em>”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span>The door opened, and instead of the French lady whose husband was +fleeing the revolution in Caraccas by bringing his family to Munich for +the winter, a man entered.</p> + +<p>The man was tall and dark, with brown eyes and a black moustache, and +his eyes were oddly full of light and laughter.</p> + +<p>She stood still staring for one short minute, and then suddenly +something swallowed up all the space between them, and her hand was fast +between his grasp, pressed hard against his lips, while the pleasure in +her eyes rose and fell against the joy of his own.</p> + +<p>“<em>Vous me voyez revenu!</em>” he said.</p> + +<p>“Where is Jack?” she asked; both spoke almost at once, and Von Ibn was +conscious of sharing a divine sense of relief with her as he replied:</p> + +<p>“He is gone alone to Vienna!”</p> + +<p>It was as if a heavy cloud had been lifted from her horizon. She sank +down in one of the big easy-chairs and he dragged another close, very +close to her side.</p> + +<p>“Not so near!” she exclaimed, a little frightened.</p> + +<p>He withdrew the chair two inches and fixed his eyes hungrily upon her +face.</p> + +<p>“Has it been long to you?” he asked, his tone one of breathless +feeling.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span>And then she realized to the full how very long it had been, and +confessed the fact in one great in-drawn sigh.</p> + +<p>“Why did you go so far?” she demanded.</p> + +<p>“It was one step beyond the another; I have no idea but of the Tagernsee +when we leave.”</p> + +<p>“You’ve been gone weeks!”</p> + +<p>He leaned forward and seized her hand again.</p> + +<p>“Was it so long?” he questioned softly.</p> + +<p>“You know that I only saw my cousin just that one evening!” she had the +face to say complainingly.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” he said sympathetically; “he is so nice, your cousin. I have +learned to like him so very much; we have really great pleasure +together. But,” he added, “I did not come back to talk of him.”</p> + +<p>“Why did you come back?” she asked, freeing herself and pushing her +chair away.</p> + +<p>He smiled upon her.</p> + +<p>“You ask?” he said, in amusement; “shall I say that it was to see you?”</p> + +<p>“I hope that you did not return on my account.”</p> + +<p>He paused, twisting his moustache; then started a little and said:</p> + +<p>“No, I am returned wholly for business.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204])</a></span>Rosina received the cold douche with a composure bred of experience, and +after a liberal interval he went on.</p> + +<p>“But I wanted also to see you too.”</p> + +<p>“Well, you are seeing me, are you not?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, but you do not smile as before your cousin is come. I want you to +smile. Oh,” he exclaimed, suddenly interrupting himself, “have you ride +horseback since I left?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, almost every day.”</p> + +<p>His face clouded slightly.</p> + +<p>“Who have you ride with?”</p> + +<p>“With my friends who are here, and twice with the lieutenant.”</p> + +<p>Then his face clouded very heavily.</p> + +<p>“Is he interesting?” he asked; “yes?”</p> + +<p>“It was the Englischergarten that was wonderful,” she told him. “We rode +very early in the morning and the dew was on the grass and we could hear +the pheasants in the underbrush when the noise of the horses’ feet +frightened them further away.”</p> + +<p>“And the lieutenant?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“And oh,” she continued, “you know that place where the woods open so +widely, and you can see so far across,—<em>eh bien</em>, we saw one morning +the deer standing in the edge of the forest just there, one would have +said fifty miles from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span> civilization, not at all as if they were in the +midst of Munich.”</p> + +<p>“And the lieutenant?” he repeated.</p> + +<p>“And then another day the clouds of morning mist were so thick that we +could see their outlines as they lay upon the earth, and ride into them +and ride out of them,—a quite new experience for me.”</p> + +<p>“But the lieutenant?” he exclaimed impatiently, “the lieutenant? what +did he talk of? what did you speak together of?”</p> + +<p>Rosina laughed, nodding merrily over his impatience.</p> + +<p>“We talked of the pheasants,” she said, “of the deer, of the fog. Are +you satisfied?”</p> + +<p>He shrugged his shoulders, his frown lifted.</p> + +<p>“It is quite one to me,” he said indifferently; “you know that I have +said before that I am not of a <em>tempérament jaloux</em>.”</p> + +<p>Then he got up and walked about the room, taking a cigar from his pocket +and holding it unlighted in his mouth.</p> + +<p>“May I smoke here?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“I don’t care if you do.”</p> + +<p>He returned suddenly to his chair, laid the cigar on the table, and took +her hand again.</p> + +<p>“Your cousin is so nice,” he told her, as if the recollection of Jack’s +charms had necessitated his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span> at once expressing his feelings towards +Jack’s cousin.</p> + +<p>“When is he coming back?” she asked.</p> + +<p>“In one week.”</p> + +<p>“When does he sail? Do you know?”</p> + +<p>“On the nineteenth day, from Genoa.”</p> + +<p>She quite sprang from her seat.</p> + +<p>“Not really!” she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>“Yes, so he tell me.”</p> + +<p>He drew her back into her chair and she forgot the hand which he still +held in her desperate feeling of the instant. She was helplessly choked +with conflicting emotions. October instead of December! That came of +having a cousin!</p> + +<p>The kingdom of the other chair advanced its border-line more than two +inches, and she did not appear to notice the bold encroachment.</p> + +<p>“What does it matter?” she asked herself bitterly; “in a few days I’m +going, and then I shall never lay eyes on him again,” and the tears +welled up thickly at the thought.</p> + +<p>“<em>Qu’est-ce que vous avez?</em>” he said anxiously; “you must not cry when I +am returned, you know!”</p> + +<p>At that she sobbed outright.</p> + +<p>He looked at her with an intentness very foreign to his usual +expression, and seemed to weigh two courses of action and deliberate as +to their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span> relative advisability; he ended by laying her hand down gently +and going to the window, where he remained for several minutes, looking +out and saying nothing.</p> + +<p>She dried her eyes quickly and quietly (only a foolish woman continues +to weep after the man has gone), and waited for him to turn. Finally he +did so.</p> + +<p>“It is not raining once more,” he said; “let us go out and walk far. +That will do you quite well; I cannot bear that you weep.”</p> + +<p>He added the last words in a lower tone, and coming close behind her +chair suddenly stooped.</p> + +<p>She realized all in a flash where he was, what he was meditating, the +half-open door, and writhed quickly out of the chair and away.</p> + +<p>“Why not?” he asked, looking after her unsmilingly. “It will do you no +hurt and me much good.”</p> + +<p>“I’m out of the habit,” she said shortly, recollecting Jack’s words on +that famous night of his arrival.</p> + +<p>They were both on their feet, she by the window and he by the chair +which she had just left.</p> + +<p>“Was your husband very <em>tendre</em>?” he asked.</p> + +<p>She felt the corners of her mouth give way under the stressful shock of +this question. “I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span> might say, ‘I never tried him to see,’” she thought, +“but he <em>never</em> would understand,” and so there was an instant of +silence.</p> + +<p>“Why do you smile?” he demanded, smiling himself.</p> + +<p>“Because we don’t call men ‘tender.’ We call meat ‘tender’ and men +‘affectionate.’”</p> + +<p>“But I <em>am</em> tender,” he affirmed.</p> + +<p>“Are you? Well, you are younger than my husband and perhaps that +accounts for it.”</p> + +<p>He reflected, but did not appear to understand; finally he gave it up +for a bad job and said, changing to a less abstruse subject:</p> + +<p>“We go to walk? yes?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly; if you will wait while I have some proper boots found for +me.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I will wait.”</p> + +<p>He came towards her.</p> + +<p>“Oh, you had better go into the corridor and wait,” she exclaimed +hastily. “I’ll come in a moment.”</p> + +<p>He stopped short and smiled his irresistible smile.</p> + +<p>“You are so madly queer. <em>Qu’est-ce que vous avez</em>? You scream always, +and yet I have not done nothing.”</p> + +<p>Then without another word he left the room.</p> + +<p>When she was alone Rosina rang for her maid.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span> As Ottillie knelt at her +feet, she frowned deeply, thinking how more than horrid it was that Jack +should have come, that she should be obliged to go, and that women may +not allow themselves to be kissed. Later she recollected that Jack was +in Vienna, that there was the half of October yet to be lived, and that +all disembodied kisses must of necessity have an incarnation yet to +come. And then she smiled once more.</p> + +<p>Ottillie brought her wraps and adjusted her hat.</p> + +<p>“Will madame take supper here?” she asked.</p> + +<p>“<em>Je le pense, oui.</em>”</p> + +<p>The maid muffled a sigh; she would have made Von Ibn a conquering hero +indeed, if her heartfelt wishes could have given him the victory. And +apropos of this subject, it would be interesting, very interesting, to +know how many international marriages have been backed up by a French +<em>femme-de-chambre</em> burning with impatience to return to her own +continent.</p> + +<p>Rosina went to the salon and found her hero looking at a “Jugend” with a +bored expression. When he saw her he sprang to his feet and sought his +hat and umbrella forthwith.</p> + +<p>Then they went down the three flights of stairs to the street, and found +it wet indeed.</p> + +<p>“We cannot go on the Promenade,” he said,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span> after casting a comprehensive +glance about and afar. “I think we will go by the Hofgarten and walk +under the arcade there; there will it be dry, <em>n’est-ce pas</em>?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, surely it will be dry there,” she acquiesced. “It is always dry +under cover in Europe, because your rain is so quiet and well behaved; +it never comes with a terrible gale, whirling and twisting, and +drenching everything inside and outside, like our storms.”</p> + +<p>“Why do your storms be so?”</p> + +<p>“We haven’t found any way of teaching them better manners yet. They are +like our flies; our flies are the noisiest, most intrusive, most +impertinent creatures. You don’t appreciate your timid, modest little +flies.”</p> + +<p>“I do not like flies.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” she laughed, “that is the whole story. You ‘do not like flies,’ +while we go crazy if there is one around, and have our houses screened +from cellar to garret.”</p> + +<p>“I do not find this subject very amusing,” he said; “let us speak of +another thing.”</p> + +<p>Rosina glanced up at the prison-like façade which they were passing.</p> + +<p>“I find the architecture of the Hoftheater terribly monotonous,” she +said warmly. “Why do you not have a more diversified style of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span> windows +where so many must be in a straight row?”</p> + +<p>“Munich is not my city,” he responded, shrugging his shoulder; “and if +you will to find fault with the way those windows go, you must wait to +meet the shade of Klenze in the after-world. He made it all in 1823.”</p> + +<p>“When I get among the Bavarian shades,” she said thoughtfully, “I want +to meet King Louis more than any one else. I think that he is the most +interesting figure in all the history of the country.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps he will be there as here, and not care to meet any one.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no,” she said hopefully; “he was crazy here, but he will be sane +there and—”</p> + +<p>“<em>Mon Dieu</em>, madame, have a care!” he cried in a low tone, glancing +apprehensively about.</p> + +<p>“What is it?” she asked, alarmed.</p> + +<p>He lowered his voice to an almost inaudible pitch.</p> + +<p>“It is that we do not discuss our kings in public as you are habited to +do. <em>Voyons donc</em>,” he continued, “if I said, ‘<em>Oh, je trouve +l’Empereur très-bête!</em>’ (as I well might say, for I find him often bête +enough); if I say that, I might find a <em>sergeant-de-ville</em> at my elbow, +and myself in prison almost as the words were still in the air.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span>Rosina looked thoroughly frightened.</p> + +<p>“And what would they do to you?” she asked, looking up at him with an +expression which brought a strange answering look into his own eyes.</p> + +<p>“That would depend on how <em>bête</em> I had found the emperor,” he declared, +laughing; “but, madame, do not be so troubled, because no one has heard +this time.”</p> + +<p>They were walking at a good pace, the puddles considered, and came now +to the arched entrance into the Hofgarten, where a turning brought them +beneath the arcades. The south side was crowded, thanks to the +guide-book recommendation to examine the frescoes there on a day when it +is too wet to “do” other sights about the city; but the west side, where +the frescoes are of landscapes only, and sadly defaced at that, was +quite deserted, and they made their way through the crowd to the +grateful peace of the silence beyond. It was a pleasant place to walk, +with the Hofgarten showing its fresh green picture between the frames of +the arcaded arches. The façade of the Hof formed the background to +all—a background of stone and marble, of serried ranks of windows +marshalled to order by lofty portals and balconies.</p> + +<p>“Why are women always like that?” he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span> asked, when they had paced in +silence to the other end and turned to return.</p> + +<p>“Like what?”</p> + +<p>He threw a quick glance of exasperation at her.</p> + +<p>“When I say a question, it is always with another question that you +reply!”</p> + +<p>“Well,” she said, “we were talking of the emperor, and now you say ‘why +are women always like that?’ and I ask ‘like what?’”</p> + +<p>He looked more exasperated than before.</p> + +<p>“I have all finished with the emperor,” he said, as if outraged by her +want of comprehension as to his meaning. “Is it likely that I will wish +to talk of the emperor when on the nineteenth you sail from Genoa?”</p> + +<p>She felt her eyes moistening afresh at this recurrence to her departure, +and made no answer. He slashed along vigorously for two or three yards, +cutting a wide swathe with his umbrella, and then his grievance appeared +somewhat appeased, and he explained in a milder tone:</p> + +<p>“I ask you why are women like that,—like that, that they never will +like to be kissed?”</p> + +<p>Rosina halted in astonishment.</p> + +<p>“What is it now?” he asked, turning because he missed her. “Have I not +yet made myself plain?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214])</a></span>“The idea—after all this while—of your going back to that subject!”</p> + +<p>“I have not go back to it,” he said coolly; “I have thought of no other +thing while you were booting yourself or now. Why do women say ‘No’? +Why do you say ‘No’?”</p> + +<p>“Let me see,” she said thoughtfully. “I think it is like this: if I +allowed you to, you would naturally feel that hereafter you could, +whereas I very much prefer that you should know that you can’t.”</p> + +<p>He looked in a despair so complete as to be almost ludicrous.</p> + +<p>“Oh, say slower,” he pleaded, earnestly. “It is so very important to +well understand.”</p> + +<p>She laughed at his serious face. For the moment Jack and Genoa were both +forgotten, and nothing but the pleasure of good company and an +atmosphere breathing the perfume that follows rain where there are +flowers, were left to joy her.</p> + +<p>“It isn’t worth repeating slower,” she said, with a smile. “It was a +positive negative which even if developed in a dark room would make a +proof that I did not want to be kissed.”</p> + +<p>They went the entire length of the arcade while he endeavored to work +out the solution of her second riddle, and then he shrugged his +shoulders, remarking:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span>“I have never interest myself in a kodak any,” and appeared to regard +the subject as finished.</p> + +<p>They came back up the arcade, and, the sidewalks being now fairly dry, +went out under the stairway at the corner, into the Galleriestrasse.</p> + +<p>“Do you like this country?” he asked presently.</p> + +<p>“Bavaria? Immensely.”</p> + +<p>“I mean, do you like the Continent—Europe?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“What do think about it?”</p> + +<p>“I think Europa showed great good taste in getting down from the bull +just where she did.”</p> + +<p>“Then you like this land?”</p> + +<p>“I love it! It hurts me whenever I hear my countrymen malign it.”</p> + +<p>They were in the Ludwigsstrasse, and the scene was like a holiday in +America. Every one was out after the rain and all faces reflected that +exuberant gayety which seems to be born about five o’clock in each +continental city. People in carriages, people in cabs, people on +horseback, people on bicycles, people walking, people leading dogs, +people wheeling babies, people following children, all one laughing, +bowing, chattering procession, coming and going ceaselessly between the +Feldherrnhalle and the Siegesthor, with the blue<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span> Bavarian sky blessing +all the pleasure, and the tame doves of Munich under the feet of each +and every one.</p> + +<p>Von Ibn stopped to watch the brilliant scene; Rosina stood beside him.</p> + +<p>“What ill can one say of us?” he asked, after a while. “How can a place +be better than this?”</p> + +<p>“<em>I</em> never said that any place could be better than this,” she +asseverated; “but I am uncommon in my opinions. The average American is +born in a land overflowing with steam-heat, ice-water, and bath-tubs, +and he suffers when he has to lose the hyphens and use the nouns +separately.”</p> + +<p>Von Ibn frowned.</p> + +<p>“You amuse yourself much with queer words to-day,” he said +discontentedly. “I wish I have stayed with Jack. I was much pleasured +with him.”</p> + +<p>“But you said that you had to return because of some business,” she +reminded him.</p> + +<p>He raised his eyebrows, and they went on again. After a little she +turned her eyes up to his and smiled.</p> + +<p>“Don’t say that you wish you were with Jack. I am so glad that you are +here.”</p> + +<p>He returned the smile.</p> + +<p>“I have no wish to be with your cousin,” he said amicably; “I find you +much more agreeable.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217])</a></span>Then a little dog that a lady was leading by a long chain ran three +times around his legs and half choked itself to death, and the lady +screamed, and it was several minutes before all was calm again.</p> + +<p>“I find it <em>bête</em> to have a dog like that,” he said, looking disgustedly +over his shoulder at the heroine of the episode, as she placidly +continued on her way. “It was <em>grand merci</em> that I am not fallen, then. +What was about my feet I could not fancy, and also,”—he began to +laugh,—“and also it was droll, for I might not kick the dog.”</p> + +<p>Rosina laughed too.</p> + +<p>“But in America,” he went on, suddenly recurring to their earlier topic, +“have you no art?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes; but nothing to compare with our sanitary arrangements. Our +president’s bath-tub is cut out of one solid block of marble,” she added +proudly.</p> + +<p>“That is not so wonderful.”</p> + +<p>“Isn’t it? The head-lines in the papers led me to think that it was. But +I’ll tell you what I think is a disgrace to America,” she went on with +energy, “and that is that the American artists who come to study abroad +must pay duty on their own pictures when they take them back.”</p> + +<p>“Is that really so?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“Yes, that is really so. And it is very unjust,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span> for the musician and +surgeon and scientist can bring all the results of their study in duty +free.”</p> + +<p>“They have them within their heads.”</p> + +<p>“Yes; but they have them just the same.”</p> + +<p>“Everything costs a great deal with you, <em>n’est-ce pas</em>?”</p> + +<p>“I should say it did. No one ought to blame us for telling what things +cost, because everything costs so much. A carriage is six to ten <em>marks</em> +an hour.”</p> + +<p>“<em>C’est assez cher!</em>” he said, laughing.</p> + +<p>“<em>C’est un peu trop!</em>” she rejoined warmly. “But the well-to-do +certainly do revel in griddle-cakes and hot-water faucets, and when I +meet an American man in Europe I am forced to believe that they are the +only really worthy ambitions to be striven for.”</p> + +<p>“I could not live there, I think,” he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>“I’m afraid not,” said she sadly. “You don’t play golf or drink, and men +of leisure have almost no other careers open to them with us.”</p> + +<p>“I have my music.”</p> + +<p>“But you could never enjoy that there,” she cried, shivering +involuntarily. “Every one talks during music, and some cough, and +gentlemen clear their throats—”</p> + +<p>“And does no one hiss them?” he interrupted, wide-eyed.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span>“Hiss them? Never! The idea!”</p> + +<p>He stopped and lit a cigarette.</p> + +<p>“But one can travel?” he suggested.</p> + +<p>“Yes, surely there is plenty of room for that,” she said dryly; “but you +don’t see many ruined castles or historic battlefields <em>en route</em>. And +the dust, <em>oh, la, la</em>! And the steam coils under your seat—and the +air—and the ventilation—and the nights—and the days.”</p> + +<p>“You would better stay here,” he remarked.</p> + +<p>“Oh, <em>I</em> think so,” she responded frankly; “it’s so jolly getting your +gloves cleaned for two cents a pair; but if we don’t change the subject +I shall cry.”</p> + +<p>He looked at her quickly.</p> + +<p>“That is the University there,” he told her, pointing to their left; +“shall we go there?”</p> + +<p>“What for?”</p> + +<p>“To look upon it.”</p> + +<p>“Why, I’ve seen it dozens of times.”</p> + +<p>He took his cigarette out of his mouth, examined it carefully, and +replaced it between his lips.</p> + +<p>“But one washes here,” he said presently.</p> + +<p>“One—washes—” she stammered blankly; and then it flashed across her +that it was the bath-tub that was rankling in his soul, and she gasped, +adjusted herself, and answered:</p> + +<p>“Of course one washes here. But in America<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span> it is all made so +convenient, and is regarded as less of an event.”</p> + +<p>“It is no event to me to wash,” he said indignantly; “I find no +excitement in washing.”</p> + +<p>“I never said you did; I was comparing quite another class of society +with their equals in the other country.”</p> + +<p>“But to shave,” he went on, “that I find terrible.”</p> + +<p>“It’s no worse than having a <em>coiffure</em> to make.”</p> + +<p>“But I have no <em>coiffure</em> to make.”</p> + +<p>“No; but I have.”</p> + +<p>He threw his cigarette into the street.</p> + +<p>“It is not so bad as shaving.”</p> + +<p>“It takes longer.”</p> + +<p>“Yes; but shaving you may cut yourself.”</p> + +<p>Rosina laughed; he heard her and turned suspiciously.</p> + +<p>“Why do you laugh?”</p> + +<p>“Because.”</p> + +<p>“What amuses you?”</p> + +<p>“You do.”</p> + +<p>He smiled and they walked one or two blocks in silence. They were now in +the suburb of Schwabing, far out by the western end of the +Englischergarten. The street was very uninteresting and comparatively +deserted.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221])</a></span>“Do you see my cravat?” he asked.</p> + +<p>She was wondering if they had not better be returning towards home.</p> + +<p>“I know that you have one on,” she said; “I can’t say that I notice +anything especial about it.”</p> + +<p>“I will show you something very curious about it.”</p> + +<p>“You’re not going to take it off, are you?”</p> + +<p>“I will show you how I tie it.”</p> + +<p>“I know how to tie that kind myself.”</p> + +<p>“Not as I tie it.”</p> + +<p>Then he deliberately handed her his umbrella and untied his cravat, and +proceeded to turn one end up and fold the other across and poke a loop +through and draw an end under, and thus manipulate the whole into a +reproduction of the same tiny bowknot as before. She held the umbrella +and contemplated the performance with an interest which was most +flattering to his labor.</p> + +<p>“I don’t see how you ever do it,” she exclaimed when the job was +complete and he took the umbrella again.</p> + +<p>“I will teach you some day,” he said readily. “I have myself invented +four cravats,” he added with pride.</p> + +<p>“Will you teach me all the four?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; I have thought, if I shall ever be poor, to go to Paris and have a +cab and drive about<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span> from house to house each morning and tie cravats +<em>pour les messieurs</em>. You can see how many would pay for that.”</p> + +<p>“Yes; but when you arrived and they were not ready,—were still in bed, +you know,—what would you do then?”</p> + +<p>He reflected, and then shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>“I would put on the collar, tie the cravat, and leave monsieur to sleep +again.”</p> + +<p>Rosina’s marital past presented her mind with a lively picture of one of +the cravat-tier’s clients struggling to bring his shirt into proper +connection with the <em>chef d’œuvre</em>, when he should arise to attire +himself for the day. She laughed outright. Then she grew sober and said:</p> + +<p>“We ought to go back; it must be after five.”</p> + +<p>He took out his watch.</p> + +<p>“No, it is not.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, it is; it was after four when we left the <em>pension</em>. I know it’s +after five now.”</p> + +<p>“It is not after five,” he declared calmly; “it is not after five +because it is after six.”</p> + +<p>She laughed again; he looked at her, smiling brightly himself.</p> + +<p>“It is good together, <em>n’est-ce pas</em>?” he said, putting his hand upon +her arm as they turned back upon their steps. There was in his eyes the +happy look that dispelled every trace of the usual<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span> shadow on his face. +“We are again those same children,” he went on, “children that the same +toy amuses both. What pleasures you always makes joy for me also.”</p> + +<p>Something came up in her throat as she listened. It might have been a +choke, but she was so positive that it was only Genoa that she swallowed +it at once and looked in the opposite direction. He had kept his hand +upon her arm, and now he bent his head a little and said, his voice +lowering:</p> + +<p>“I think—”</p> + +<p>The dusk was gathering heavily. The Siegesthor loomed blackly great +against the lights of the city beyond. It was no longer quiet about +them, but the hum and buzz of all the bees swarming home was in the air, +on the pavement, along the trolley wires.</p> + +<p>“I think,”—he said, his fingers closing about her arm,—“I think that +we might be always very happy together.”</p> + +<p>She looked up quickly, and then down yet more quickly.</p> + +<p>“Why do you speak that way when you know that I am going so soon?”</p> + +<p>“Let us turn here,” he said eagerly; “by here it will be quiet. Do walk +so,” he added pleadingly, as she hesitated, “we have not long to be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span> +together. <em>Il faut me gâter un peu.</em> There is but a week left for us.”</p> + +<p>She started.</p> + +<p>“A week! If we sail the nineteenth we need not leave here until the +fourteenth surely.”</p> + +<p>“But your cousin will leave on the eighth.”</p> + +<p>She looked up at him, and by the light of a street lamp which they were +just passing, he saw the great tears starting in her eyes, tears of +helplessness, the tears of a woman who feels and cannot speak. It was a +very quiet little street, that into which they had turned, with lines of +monotonous gray houses on either side, and certainly no better place for +tears was ever invented. Rosina’s appeared to know a good thing when +they saw it, and rolled heavily downward, thus proving in their passage +the sincerity of both her nature and her color. Her companion drew her +hand within his own, pressing her fingers hard and fast. He did not say +one word, and finally she wiped her eyes, smiled through the mist that +hung upon her lashes, and said with simple directness:</p> + +<p>“I don’t want to go.”</p> + +<p>“I know.”</p> + +<p>“But they want me to, and I must.”</p> + +<p>There was another long silence, and then he said:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225])</a></span>“You would not stay for me?”</p> + +<p>His voice was wonderfully soft and persuasive, and for a single instant +she admitted the possibility into her mental future; but the instant +after it found itself driven violently forth again.</p> + +<p>“No, no,” she cried, forcibly, “I will not—I cannot. I <em>never</em> want +another husband.”</p> + +<p>He hesitated one step in his gait and then went on as before.</p> + +<p>“I do not say that all would be as you wished,” he said slowly, with +pauses between, “or that I would live only to joy your life. That would +be very untrue. To be with you this week I put aside as it would not be +right for me to put aside again. These days I have throw away because I +will not say all in my after life that I did not try.” He stopped and +his voice changed strangely. “I must try with all my strength,” he +continued, drawing each breath as if in great pain; “I must, because to +me with my work it is what does not trouble, what gives me sympathy, +that is the most large of all. I have never marry because I know that so +well. How could I ever do my work if a single discord is there to +fret—fret—fret? As well ask me to play in concert on an untuned +instrument. To my ear the untune is agony; to my music, a discord in my +day is death to what would have been written that day. It is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span> so that I +have come to expect to never marry. My music must be first, and how can +I risk—” he stopped his speech and his steps. She tried to move on but +he held her still. “But,” he said, very low but with an accent the +intensity of which cut into her very heart, “but now I know that better +work would be if you were there; I should have greater force; I +should—I—if you loved—”</p> + +<p>He trailed his speech helplessly, faltered, and was silent. The night +had come heavily down and they learned the fact by the discovery that +they could no longer look into the eyes of one another. The quiet little +street had led them down to the borders of the Englischergarten, and its +forest rose up before them. He led her straight towards it.</p> + +<p>“It will be wet,” he said, in reply to the resistance in her arm; “but +we must be alone until I have finished all that I will to say. The trees +about us are best; we do not want cabs and streets just now.”</p> + +<p>She felt blindly, miserably wretched.</p> + +<p>“I don’t want to be married again,” she declared in a voice that was +thick with more tears; and then she gathered her skirt well into her +hand and they plunged together into the darkness beyond.</p> + +<p>The park was dusk with night’s downfall and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span> heavily misted by the day’s +rain. Its paths, usually like hard gray cement, were a slippery mosaic +of clay and brown leaves, and on either hand arose a stockade-like +effect of tree-trunks knowing no light beyond. Wind there was none to +rustle the leaves, nor sound of bird or beast. An utter and complete +silence echoed the footfalls of these two who had come into the +solitude, to the end that they might search there for a solution of +themselves.</p> + +<p>At the first forking of their way, Rosina said timidly:</p> + +<p>“We must not go too far; it is so lonely, I am afraid.”</p> + +<p>Von Ibn stopped short, drew one of her arms behind his back, caught her +firmly to his bosom, and approached his face so close to hers that his +breath came and went against her lips.</p> + +<p>“Are you frightened?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“No,” she said, wrapt in a sort of awe at the wonder of her own +sensations, “I have the utmost faith in you.”</p> + +<p>He loosed her instantly, and walked a little way off for a moment.</p> + +<p>“I felt that you wished not,” he said, bitterly, “and so I held myself +back. <em>Mon Dieu</em>, how good I am to you,—how cruel to myself,—and no +thanks.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228])</a></span>Her heart was wrung.</p> + +<p>“Oh, let us go back and go home,” she cried; “all this is of no use. It +makes me glad to go away, because I see now that for me to go will be +better for you.”</p> + +<p>“And for you?” he asked, returning to her side.</p> + +<p>“I said ‘for you,’” she answered gently.</p> + +<p>“Then not at all for you too?”—he laid his hand insistently upon her +arm,—“not at all for you too?” he repeated.</p> + +<p>She was silent.</p> + +<p>“It was there in Lucerne,” he went on presently; “I knew it at +first—the first time I see you; and when I found that it was you who +had sent for me—I—I dared to hope that you too felt something, even +then, even so at the very first. Have you never known that feeling?”—he +exclaimed, his breath rising passionately, “has such storm never swept +within you?—and you have no other life for a while but its longing,—no +sleep but the stupid fatigue when one cannot think more? What has my +existence been since that day on the Quai by the +Vierwaldstattersee?—<em>Je ne peux rien faire!</em>—To the world I am +dead.—There is perhaps no future for me because I have learned to love +and have not learned to be loved.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229])</a></span>His voice broke utterly; he loosed her arm, walked apart once more, and +was once more silent.</p> + +<p>Then her agitation suddenly found voice and to her own intense horror +she heard herself laughing—laughing a loud hysterical laughter, that +resounded hideously and was beyond her own control.</p> + +<p>“You are amused,” he exclaimed, and his mood took on a justifiable tone +of outraged anger; “you laugh. You have made me like this and now you +laugh. If you were suffering and I had made you so, I should be ashamed +and sorry; but a woman laughs. You are as that other,” he continued, +impetuously, “and it will be the same some time after. When she had made +me wild, then she laughed. When I heard her laugh, I grew quite cold, I +cared no more, never more. Then, when I cared no more, she learned to +care, she grew to love, she wrote me many letters, she became most +miserable; but for me nothing mattered. Because I could not care more.”</p> + +<p>Her laughter continued spasmodically in spite of her struggles to check +it. But between the paroxysms she gasped:</p> + +<p>“I never tried—to make you love me. I never wanted you to come where I +did—”</p> + +<p>“But now that I am all yours,” he interrupted,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span> “now that nothing is +left for me, but you—” He paused. “What will I do now?” he added, +asking the question with a simplicity at once boyish and heartrending.</p> + +<p>She was silent; her laughter had ceased. He came close to her and took +her hand again within his own. And then in the darkness beside him he +suddenly heard the bursting misery of her sobs.</p> + +<p>“You weep,” he cried.</p> + +<p>“No,” she whispered faintly, “no.”</p> + +<p>“You weep,” he repeated slowly, and gathered her warmly and closely +within his arms.</p> + +<p>“What is it necessary that we suffer?” he asked her softly. “Let us +cease struggling, let us be only happy,” and then he bent his head so +that his cheek touched hers, and waited for the words of her answer. +“Your heart is very near mine,” he whispered to her silence, “let it +stay near mine, let it rest mine.” Still she was silent. “<em>N’est-ce +pas?</em>” he asked, pressing her closer yet.</p> + +<p>To her, at that instant, the darkness was flashing with strange lights, +the silence was roaring in thunder, the trees charging and whirling in +giant combat. Her head was suddenly light and then suddenly heavy; her +breath strangled her and then failed altogether. She swayed from side to +side, her head fell backward, and Von Ibn had it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span> borne upon him, that +instead of being in love she had fainted.</p> + +<p>“<em>Qu’est-ce que vous avez?</em>” he cried, as he felt her reeling, and then +he knew; and knowing, recognized the fact that he was alone in the +depths of the rain-soaked forest, with a helpless woman on his hands, +and that the situation was infinitely more novel than amusing.</p> + +<p>He was obliged to let his umbrella fall in order that he might raise her +in his arms; and when she was so raised he felt a poignant wonder as to +what to do with her next. He had no idea which direction to take, for +the night was now night in good earnest, and the Englischergarten is so +large that one may walk for two hours and a half without passing its +limits. He felt uncertain as to just where they had entered it, the +common ingress not being from Schwabing, and also uncertain as to just +how far towards the centre they had penetrated. A pale, young moon +peeped up above the tree-tops; he looked at the moon and then at Rosina, +and they both appeared unnecessarily weak and inadequate to the urgent +necessities of the moment.</p> + +<p>“She should be laid on her back and have water thrown upon her face,” he +murmured to himself in French, and then he felt his boots sinking deeply +into the mud, and recognized the impracticability<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span> of that means of +resuscitation at this particular moment.</p> + +<p>“Why did I ever pray that I might hold her in my arms?” he thought in +German. “<em>Mein Gott</em>, what shall I do?”</p> + +<p>Failing all other remedies, he shook her hard, and her eyes flew open on +some wax-doll-like principle. She gave him a look of complete +unrecognition, and closed them with a sigh.</p> + +<p>“You must not faint once more,” he cried, anxiously; “you cannot, you +know.”</p> + +<p>Something like physical despair swept over him as he felt her tremble +and sway again.</p> + +<p>“What can I do?” he cried, shaking her very hard indeed, “we are far +from all. I cannot leave you to get a carriage, I cannot take you—”</p> + +<p>“I don’t care what you do,” she murmured, with the usual complete +resignation of the swooning, always so exasperating to those who care +for them. He felt desperately that she was telling the truth.</p> + +<p>There was a sound in the wilderness beyond, a sound that thrilled him +with hope and fear at the same instant. The developments of a sound may +under some circumstances prove one’s salvation or destruction. He +riveted his eyes anxiously<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span> in the direction from whence the echo of a +horse’s feet splashing through the mud was now drawing nearer each +second.</p> + +<p>“If it prove the Prinz Regent himself,” he said decidedly, “he must take +us in.”</p> + +<p>It proved to be, not a royal coach, but a mere ordinary cab, than which +nothing more welcome had ever crossed his vision in all his life before. +He hailed the cabman, and the cabman stopped in the greatest possible +astonishment, and was good enough to descend in the mud and open the +door. He asked no questions—cabmen never do—but took the address, +mounted to his seat, and put his horse to a rounder trot in the +direction of the city.</p> + +<p>Rosina leaned back in her corner and shook as if she had the ague. Her +hands and feet were icy cold; Von Ibn took her hands in his and feared +that she was ill, or going to be so.</p> + +<p>“What did make you like that?” he asked, as the wheels dashed the +mud-spatters up against the windows; “was it that I distress you, yes?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” she sighed.</p> + +<p>Then he kissed her hands.</p> + +<p>“Forgive me,” he said, contritely, “I have not meant it so. There in the +trees, when you were unconscious, I did not kiss you, I did not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span> touch +even your hair,—not thirty men in all Germany had been so good as that. +You see what I try to be for you.”</p> + +<p>He was leaning over her, the blood seemed to be boiling up into her +ears. She put up her hand:</p> + +<p>“If you speak so,” she said, “I shall faint again; I get dizzy when you +talk to me in that way.”</p> + +<p>“But if I kiss you only once,” he whispered.</p> + +<p>“No—no—no,” she reiterated, and raised her hand and pushed his lips +away with it.</p> + +<p>“<em>En effet vous n’êtes pas du tout gentille</em>,” he cried, in violent +anger, for his moods knew no shading in their transposition from one to +another; “you are cold and without heart. How long do you think that I +stood there in the wet and hold you back from the mud, and now you will +do nothing for me; and you were quite heavy too, and—oh, <em>mon Dieu</em>!” +he exclaimed sharply, interrupting himself, “my umbrella!”</p> + +<p>“Have you lost it?”</p> + +<p>“Have I lost it? Naturally I have let it fall to upraise you, and now I +have leave it there.”</p> + +<p>“I will give you another,” she said pacifically.</p> + +<p>“Another,” he commented scornfully; “do you think that I have no other?” +Then his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span> weathercock cast of mind whirled again: “I do not want an +umbrella,” he said more forcefully, “I want a kiss.”</p> + +<p>“I thought that you were distressed over losing it.”</p> + +<p>“Not at all; I have already very many others. But a kiss from you I have +never yet.”</p> + +<p>He seized her hand again, and tearing off the glove with a haste that +demolished two buttonholes, pressed the bare cold fingers to his lips +and eyes and forehead.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I do love you!” he cried in a fresh storm of feeling. “You <em>must</em> +love me, because my much <em>must</em> make of you a little.”</p> + +<p>Then he kissed her hand many times more, stopping his rapid caresses to +gaze upon her with that curious, burning glow firing the sombreness of +his eyes the while he held her wrist against the fever of his face.</p> + +<p>“If I obeyed myself,” he said hoarsely, “how I would hold you and kiss +you. <em>Je vous embrasserais tellement!</em>”</p> + +<p>She wondered why she was not distressed and alarmed. Instead the awe at +her own emotion that had come upon her spirit in the wood was with her +again. Something like strength seemed rising within her, and what it +rose against was—strangely<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span> enough—not him, but herself. She was +conscious of a sympathy for him in place of any fear for herself.</p> + +<p>She looked from the window and saw that they were now rolling rapidly +through the brightly lighted streets, and a glimpse of the Hof told her +that the end was but five minutes further on.</p> + +<p>“You answer not,” he said, insistently; “you must say me some word.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, what can I say?” she cried helplessly.</p> + +<p>“Say that you love me.”</p> + +<p>“But I do not.”</p> + +<p>Then he loosed her hand and ground his teeth.</p> + +<p>“Decidedly you are queer,” he said bitterly; “it is there in your eyes +and you will to deny it. You are senseless,—<em>vous n’avez pas de +cœur!</em> I am always a fool to go on as I go.”</p> + +<p>She turned her eyes upon him.</p> + +<p>“<em>Je ne suis pas pour vous</em>,” she said gently and very, very sadly; +“<em>mais je ne suis pour personne non plus</em>,” she added, and there was a +tone in her voice that he had never heard before. His temper faded +instantly.</p> + +<p>“You think of me with kindness, always,—<em>n’est-ce pas</em>?” he said, +returning her look.</p> + +<p>Their eyes rested steadily upon each other for a little space. Then he +exclaimed:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span>“You do love me,” and started to seize her in his arms forgetful of +lights, streets, passers-by, and all other good reasons for +self-restraint.</p> + +<p>But just then the cab stopped before the door of No. 6, the cabman +descended.</p> + +<p>There was no further question as to <em>les convenances</em>.</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span>Chapter Twelve</h2> + + +<p class="right">“<span class="smcap">Buda-Pesth.</span></p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 8px;"> +<img src="images/quote.png" width="8" height="7" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p class="cap"><span class="smcap">DEAR ROSINA</span>,—If you’re laid up I might just as well take a week more +in this direction. Plenty to see, I find, and lots of jolly company +lying around loose. I’ll get back about the twelfth and we’ll plan to +skip then as fast as we can. Keep on writing Poste Restante, Buda, and +I’ll have them forward. Don’t try to fool me any by being too sick to +sail. I’ve got to go the nineteenth and you must too.</p> + +<p class="center">“Lovingly,</p> +<p class="right">“<span class="smcap">Jack.</span>”</p> + +<p>She sat in the little salon the night of October fifth and read the +above affectionate epistle which the postman had brought to keep her +company, because every one else in the house was gone to the famous +concert of the famous pianist.</p> + +<p>She could not go; that little episode in the Englischergarten and all +the attendant agitation had put her in bed for three days and rendered +her quite unable to go out for two or three more. She had been obliged +to write Jack that she was ill, with the above results, and she read his +answer with the sensation that life was long, the future<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span> empty, and +none of its vistas worth contemplating. Her heart ached dully—it was +forever aching dully these days, and she—</p> + +<p>There was a tap at the door. Europe has no open-door policy, be it +known; all doors are always shut. Even those of <em>pension</em> salons.</p> + +<p>She looked up, and saw him coming in, his violin case in his hand. Then +life and its vistas underwent a great transformation, because he smiled +upon her and, putting the case down carefully, came eagerly to kiss her +hand.</p> + +<p>“<em>Vous allez bien ce soir?</em>” he asked pleasantly, standing before her +chair and looking down into her face.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I am almost well, thank you; but why are you not gone to the +concert?”</p> + +<p>He pointed to his violin with a smile.</p> + +<p>“It is a concert that I bring to you who may not go out,” he said.</p> + +<p>“But you are making a tremendous sacrifice for me, monsieur.”</p> + +<p>He stood before her, twisting his moustache.</p> + +<p>“It is that I am regretful for the other night,” he said briefly, “for +that I am glad to give the concert up and make you some pleasure. The +other night—”</p> + +<p>“Don’t,” she pleaded uncomfortably; “never mind all that. Let it all +go.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240])</a></span>“But I would ask your pardon. <em>J’étais tout-à-fait fou!</em>”</p> + +<p>“If I have anything to forgive it shall be forgiven you when you play. +Do so now, please. Oh, you have no idea how impatient I am to hear you.”</p> + +<p>He stared through her and beyond her for several seconds, and then came +back to himself with a start.</p> + +<p>“Then I do play,” he exclaimed, and went to where he had placed the case +of rosewood, and lifting it from the small table, set it on the floor +and knelt before it, as a priest at some holy shrine. She leaned her +head against the chair back and watched him, her eyes searching each +detail of his appearance without her spirit being cognizant of the +hunger which led to the seeking, of the soul-cry which strove to fortify +itself against the inevitable that each hour was bringing nearer.</p> + +<p>He felt in his pocket for his key-ring, chose from the many one +particular key, inserted it, turned it, left it sticking in the hole, +and then, with a curious breathless tightening of the lips, he raised +the lid, put aside the knit wool shield of white and violet, and with +the tender care which a mother bestows upon a very tiny baby lifted the +violin from its resting-place. As he did<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span> so his eye travelled with a +sudden keen anxiety over its every detail, as if the possibility of harm +was ever present, and as he held it to his ear and snapped the strings +one after another, she beheld with something akin to awe the dawning of +another nature upon his face, of another light within his eyes, the +strange light of that abnormal, unworldly gift which God gave man and +which we have elected to call by the name of genius. As he rested there +before her, tightening one cord, trying another, listening to a third, +she realized—with a sorrowful sense of her own remoteness at the +minute—that this man was some one who, in spite of all their hours of +intercourse, she had never met before.</p> + +<p>He loosened the bow from its buttons and rose slowly to his feet. His +eyes sought hers, and he said dreamily:</p> + +<p>“What shall I play?” even while his fingers were forming dumb notes, and +the uplifted bow quivered in the air as if impatient.</p> + +<p>“Oh,” she said, acutely conscious of her inferiority,—of the ten +thousand leagues of difference between his grandeur and her +commonplace,—“play what you will.”</p> + +<p>He hardly seemed to hear, his eyes roved over the little salon as if its +walls were gone, and he beheld a horizon illimitless. He just slightly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span> +knit his brows and then he bowed his head above the instrument and said +briefly:</p> + +<p>“Listen!”</p> + +<p>And she listened.</p> + +<p>And the unvoiceable wonder of his magic!</p> + +<p>It was an intangible echo of the Tonhalle at Zurich, with the music that +they had heard there sounding as the waves lapped up against the +embankment and the crowd laughed and chatted after; those strains to +which she had then been deaf on account of her agitation came back now, +and the thrill of her pain was there still, rising and falling amidst +the music and the water breaking up against the stones. While she waited +on the verge of tears, the whole shifted to Constance, and through the +slow sweep of the steamers coming into the harbor sounded the “Souvenir” +of Vieuxtemps, drifting across the rose-laden air and carrying her back +to the minutes when—Ah, when! She put her hand before her eyes and it +was not the cords of his violin, but the sinews of her soul which +responded to his bow. That which man may not voice he played, and that +which our ears may not hear she absorbed into the depths of her being. +Something within them each burst bonds and met at last, but neither knew +it then, and the wonder carried her out upon the bosom of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span> Bodensee, +showed her the charm of its gracious peace, and then drifted as the +breezes drift, to the concert in the open air that is given each day by +the Feldherrnhalle, a concert that knows no discord, because the murmur +of life, the calls of the birds, the splashing of the fountains, and the +light-hearted joy of the crowd around, all meet and mingle in its +chorus. He echoed them all with the sublimity of the power which he +controlled, and all—bird-calls, fountain-drip, desultory laughter, and +careless joy, all flowed from him, and took from him as they flowed that +subtle and precious subconsciousness which lines our every cloud with +the infinite hope that is better than all else in this world.</p> + +<p>She leaned forward breathlessly, her fingers interlaced around her +knees; her eyes had grown as dark as his own, her heart stood still, and +between its throbs she asked herself if <em>this</em> was the secret of their +sympathy,—if <em>this</em> was the basis of his mastery.</p> + +<p>Then there was silence in the room and he stood motionless, his eyes on +the floor, the violin still resting against his shoulder in its rightful +position, above his heart, quite touching his head.</p> + +<p>She did not speak and he did not speak,—neither knew for how long that +period of silence<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span> endured. But after a while he lowered the instrument +and looked at her.</p> + +<p>“You like, yes?” he said with a faint smile.</p> + +<p>“Can you ask?”</p> + +<p>He laid his hand upon a vase that sat upon the table and shook his head.</p> + +<p>“All this is not good, you know,” he said, as if communing with himself +alone; “here is no room for the music to spread. All these,” he pointed +to another ornament, “are so very, very bad. But some day, perhaps,” he +added, with another smile, “you will hear me in a good place.”</p> + +<p>Then he raised the violin to position once more.</p> + +<p>“Choose what you will have,” he told her.</p> + +<p>“Oh, forget that I am here,” she pleaded, speaking with a startled +hushedness, as if no claim of conventional politeness might dare intrude +itself upon that bewildering hour, “do not remember that I am +here,—play as you would if you were quite alone.”</p> + +<p>“That is very well,” he said, with a recurrence to his unseeing stare +and dreamy tone, “because for me you really are not here. Nothing is +here;—the violin is not here;—I am myself not here;—only the music +exists. And if I talk,” he added slowly, “the inspiration may leave +me.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245])</a></span>He went beside the piano and turned his back towards her, and then his +prayer made itself real and his love found words....</p> + +<p>She wept, and when he ceased to play he remained standing in silence as +the very reverent rest for a short interval after the termination of +holy service....</p> + +<p>After a while he moved to where the case lay open on the floor and knelt +again, laying his instrument carefully in its place and covering it with +its little knit wool quilt. Then he locked the lid down, replaced the +keys in his pocket, and, rising, seemed to return to earth.</p> + +<p>“Can you understand now,” he asked, taking a chair by her side,—“can +you understand now how it would be for me if I lost my power to create +music?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” she said, very humbly.</p> + +<p>“I think that nothing so bad could arrive,” he went on, pulling his +moustache and looking at her as he spoke, “because I am very much more +strong than anything that may arrive at me, and the music is still much +more strong than I. But if that <em>could</em> arrive, that a trouble might +kill my power, you can know how bad it would be for me.”</p> + +<p>She sat there, gazing always at her new conception of him. The tears +which she had shed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span> during his music filled her face with a sort of +tender charm. It did not occur to her that any words of hers could be +other than a desecration of those minutes.</p> + +<p>“I am going now,” he said presently, rising. “I have done no work since +in June, but I feel it within me to write what I have played to-night.” +He went over and took up the violin case and then he laid it down again +and came back to her side.</p> + +<p>“I shall kiss you,” he said, not in any tone of either doubt or +entreaty, rather with an imperativeness that was final. “In the music +that I go to write to-night I want to put your eyes and also your kiss.”</p> + +<p>He put his arms about her and raised her to his bosom.</p> + +<p>“<em>Regardez-moi!</em>” he commanded, and she lifted her eyes into his.</p> + +<p>Their lips met, and the kiss endured.</p> + +<p>Then he replaced her gently upon the sofa, took up the violin and went +out.</p> + +<p>Later that night she reproached herself bitterly.</p> + +<p>“I ought to have a chaperone,” she told her pillow in strict confidence.</p> + +<p>But the kiss had a place now in her life, and the place, like the kiss +itself, endured.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span>Von Ibn, in his room at the hotel, paused over his manuscript score, +laid down his pen and closed his eyes.</p> + +<p>“<em>Elle sera à moi!</em>” he murmured, and smiled.</p> + +<p>For him also the kiss was enduring.</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span>Chapter Thirteen</h2> + + +<p class="cap">JACK was expected on the morrow, and on the day after the start for +Genoa was to be made.</p> + +<p>Under these cheerful circumstances Von Ibn came to call at the pension, +and Amelia tapped at Rosina’s door to announce to the “<em>gnädige Frau</em>” +that “<em>der Herr von Ibn ist im Salon</em>.”</p> + +<p>Rosina was dressed for dinner and when her visitor saw her gown with its +long trailing skirt his face fell.</p> + +<p>“We go to walk, yes?” he said, in a doubtful tone. She looked from the +window out upon the rainy view.</p> + +<p>“It’s too wet,” she said hopelessly; but the hopelessness was +hypocritical, because she had resolved to never walk alone with him +again.</p> + +<p>He threw himself down upon the divan and entered into a species of +gloomy trance. She took a chair by the window and unfolded her +embroidery. Since the night of the music their mutual feelings had +become more complicated than ever, and sometimes she wanted to get away<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span> +with a desperation that was tainted with cowardice, while at other times +she almost wondered if she should ever have the strength to go at all. +What he was meditating in these last days she could not at all divine. +He continued to have fits of jealousy and periods of long and absorbing +thought. The new knowledge of the spirit which he revealed in his art +was always with her and always held her a little in awe. Also the +recollection of the Englischergarten and of her own overwhelming +sensations there stayed by her with a persistence which knew no +diminution.</p> + +<p>“I wouldn’t be off like that with him again for anything,” she thought, +as she drew a thread of red chenille from the skein upon her knee, and +stole a glance at the dark face opposite her.</p> + +<p>“Why may we not walk?” he asked, looking up as if she had spoken aloud. +“I will be <em>très raisonable</em>.”</p> + +<p>“It isn’t that,” she replied, annoyed to feel herself blushing; “it is +that it is so wet. I should ruin a skirt.”</p> + +<p>He started to argue the question but just then the salon door opened and +Mrs. Jones came in with a book in her hand. He saw the book and she knew +it. Mrs. Jones had evidently come to stay. The salon was public +property, and Mrs. Jones had just as much right there as they had.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span> +Nevertheless when she smiled and said, “Shall I disturb you?” they +resented her question as a sarcasm unworthy of Genoa’s proximity. Von +Ibn stood up and said, “Certainly not,” with a politeness which did +credit to his bringing up, but Rosina as she threaded her needle took a +vow to remember to <em>never</em>, in all time to come, pause for an instant +even in a room where two people were talking together.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Jones seated herself and then made the discovery that she had left +her glasses in her own room; she rose at once and started to get them.</p> + +<p>“Now we <em>must</em> go out,” he exclaimed, hurriedly, “we may not talk here +with her. She speaks French as well as we, and German much better than +you;” he referred to the cosmopolitan custom of altering one’s tongue to +disagree with an (unwelcome) third party.</p> + +<p>Rosina was already huddling her work together in hot haste.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” she said, “I have a short skirt that I can wear.” She rose and +went towards the door. “I won’t be five minutes,” she said, turning the +knob.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Jones was leisurely about coming back. She did not want to +inconvenience them too much, but she did want to find the salon empty on +her return, and she found it so.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span>While she was smiling and settling herself, they were going down the +three flights of stairs and out of the large main door. The rain had +ceased but it was still blackly and distinctly wet. Von Ibn had a +tightly rolled umbrella which he held with a grasp that somehow +suggested thoughts of their other promenade at nightfall.</p> + +<p>“You can walk well, yes?” he said, as they turned in the direction of +the Isar.</p> + +<p>“In this skirt,” she laughed, glancing down at her costume whose +original foundations had been laid for golf, “in this skirt I am equal +to anything!”</p> + +<p>“But if you slip?” he supposed, anxiously.</p> + +<p>“You ought to see the soles of my boots. I sent them to the little +shoemaker in the Wurzerstrasse and he soled them with rubber half an +inch thick.”</p> + +<p>“How much is an inch?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“Twice the width of the rubber on my boots.”</p> + +<p>“No, but earnestly,” he said, “is it a <em>centimètre</em>?”</p> + +<p>“Two <em>centimètres</em> and a half make one inch.”</p> + +<p>“You are droll, you English and Americans,” he said, “you see nothing +but your own way. I have heard Englishmen laugh as to how yet the +Russians count their time different from the civilization part of the +world, and then all England<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span> and America do their measure and weight in +a manner so uneven that a European is useless to even attempt to +understand it. There was a man there at Lucerne,—what did he say to me? +‘A mark is a quarter, is it not?’ that is what he asked. ‘<em>Mon Dieu</em>,’ +I said, ‘if you cut it in four pieces it is four quarters, and if you +leave it whole it is whole,’ then he looked to find me <em>bête</em>, and I was +very sure that he was, and we spoke no more.”</p> + +<p>Rosina laughed.</p> + +<p>“He meant a quarter of a dollar,” she explained.</p> + +<p>“I know that. You do not really think that I did not know that, do you? +It was for his poor careless grammar that I find the American even more +<em>bête</em> than for his ignorance. Do you believe that in my own tongue I +would speak as many of you speak yours? In my own tongue I am above +correction.”</p> + +<p>They were under the long arcade in front of the Regierung and in view of +the discussion which seemed impending she judged it advisable to say, +with a gesture:</p> + +<p>“There is where we met Jack; you remember?”</p> + +<p>Von Ibn looked quickly about.</p> + +<p>“Yes, it was here,” he said, and then he shuddered slightly. “It was +very well to laugh after, but that might have been so bad. I was angry<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span> +and I struck a fearful blow then; I have often think of it when we were +travelling together.”</p> + +<p>She grew thoughtful also, and her imagination found food among some +miserable possibilities which might have been.</p> + +<p>So they came to the river banks and the Maximilianbrücke, and paused by +its rail.</p> + +<p>The air was grand, fresh and moist, reminiscent of summer’s breath while +also prophetic of winter’s bite, and the Isar swept below them, carrying +its hurry of tumult away, away, far into the west, towards a wealth of +rose and golden sky. Between the glory and the water, in the middle +distance, lay a line of roofs stretching irregularly into the blackness +of their own shadows, and beyond them was the forest, to the fringing +haze of whose bare branches the distance lent a softness not their own. +The banks of the Promenade were still green, but the masses of vine that +trailed in the green ripples were all of a crimson or reddish brown, and +the shrubs showed here and there an echo of the same color.</p> + +<p>It was beautiful and wonderful to see, and they stood still and feasted +their eyes for some long minutes.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Isar,” Rosina cried softly, holding her hand out towards the +singing waters below, “when shall I see you again?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254])</a></span>“You will return some day,” her companion said hopefully.</p> + +<p>“Who can tell?”</p> + +<p>“But always you must come over some bridge to return to-night.”</p> + +<p>She felt that such levity jarred upon her mood, and refused to return +his smile. She did not like him to feel like smiling too often these +days.</p> + +<p>“Do not be of a bad humor,” he entreated. “I am this afternoon of such a +good one; and how can you know that you will not return? A woman can +never be decided, so you may very well see the Isar soon again. <em>Vous +comprenez?</em>”</p> + +<p>“Is it being bad-humored to be sad?” she asked; “and why can’t I be +decided if I want to be?”</p> + +<p>“Because,” he said, wisely, “you are a woman; and a woman is very +foolish to ever be decided, for she always changes her mind; and then +all her decided seems to have been quite useless.”</p> + +<p>Rosina felt that this sentence called for study before reply, and so +walked on without speaking.</p> + +<p>“Is that not so?” he asked, as they went down by the little stone stair.</p> + +<p>“I never change.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, now you know well that you do not speak the truth,—you are so very +changeable. This afternoon, <em>par exemple</em>, when I first come<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span> to ask you +to go out, you say you cannot of any possibility make it, and then, very +suddenly, we go.”</p> + +<p>“But I recollected that I might wear this skirt.”</p> + +<p>“And there was that lady, also,” he said thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>“Yes, she was there, too.”</p> + +<p>“But always you did change.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t call it being changeable when one has a good reason for so +doing.”</p> + +<p>He stopped short; and she, after going a few steps further, discovered +herself to be unaccompanied and stopped also.</p> + +<p>“What is the matter?”</p> + +<p>“Suddenly, I think.”</p> + +<p>“Can’t you walk and think at the same time?”</p> + +<p>He smiled, and came up with her again.</p> + +<p>“If I make you a good reason—” he began, and then hesitated and was +silent.</p> + +<p>They followed the muddy path almost to the Luitpoldbrücke before he +continued his phrase.</p> + +<p>“If one can change for a good reason, and if I make you a good reason, +then will you change about me?”</p> + +<p>She drew a quick little breath.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256])</a></span>“I can’t change in that way,” she said; “you know that I do not want to +marry again: marriage is too awful an undertaking. Don’t you see that +even now it does not make you always happy to be around me—”</p> + +<p>“I am never around you,” he exclaimed indignantly. “I never have hardly +touch you. I have been with you not as a man, but as an angel. <em>Je me +comporte comme un ange—comme un ange—c’est moi qui vous le dit!</em> I +have given you one kiss such as a small baby might give its mother, and +that is all;—and then you say that I am always around you.”</p> + +<p>He ceased speaking, and looked straitly and darkly before him. She +wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.</p> + +<p>“I tell you,” he continued violently after a short interval, “I am very +much too good. Whatever you bid me do, that I do. Whatever you bid me +not do, that I do not. And you do not thank me, or trust me, or treat me +as a friend. <em>Vous avez toujours peur de moi.</em> When I approach you, you +have always the air to expect that I will displease you. Have I deserved +that? Have I behaved badly once? Did I kiss you when you knew nothing +and I held you there in the mud—the night when I lose my umbrella? <em>Mon +Dieu</em>, you are very<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span> <em>drôle</em>, if you have known many men and do not +appreciate me.”</p> + +<p>He stopped as if choked.</p> + +<p>They had passed beyond the bridge and entered upon a path along the +river bank, a path bordered with willow trees. The sky was more +brilliantly gorgeous than ever, but under foot it was wet indeed.</p> + +<p>“Try not to stamp so much as you walk,” she asked him very gently; “you +keep splashing me.”</p> + +<p>“What is splash?” he demanded gloomily; “something that annoys your +ears?”</p> + +<p>“No, something that spoils my boots.”</p> + +<p>“I do not care if I spoil those boots; I find them most ugly.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps; but I could not be here but for them.”</p> + +<p>He walked on with somewhat less vigor.</p> + +<p>“Let us talk about us,” he suggested, presently.</p> + +<p>“With reference to what?”</p> + +<p>“To me.”</p> + +<p>“No, no,” she said unwillingly.</p> + +<p>“Yes; why not?”</p> + +<p>“You always come back to that same subject; your mind appears to follow +a circuit, like a squirrel in a ring.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258])</a></span>“‘Wheel,’ you mean.”</p> + +<p>“Well, ‘wheel,’ then.”</p> + +<p>“What squirrel? We never have talked of a squirrel before.”</p> + +<p>Rosina’s laugh rang out among the willows.</p> + +<p>“<em>Decidément vous n’êtes pas du tout poli</em>,” he cried angrily. “You say +I am like a squirrel; I ask what squirrel, and you begin to laugh.”</p> + +<p>“I never said that you were like a squirrel,” she exclaimed, greatly +shocked; “how can you think that I would say such a thing?”</p> + +<p>“You did,” he declared bitterly. “You said I was like a squirrel in his +wheel, because I tell you so often that I love you.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, monsieur, you <em>know</em> that I never meant it in that way; how can you +think for an instant that I could have—have said that—that—” She felt +it impossible to define her offence again without having the corners of +her mouth give way; but she went close beside him and faced his vexation +with earnest, upraised eyes the while that she laid one hand upon his +arm with the sweet impulsive gesture of a pleading child.</p> + +<p>The gold had all faded from the sky, and the pink reflection in the far +west was sunk beyond the horizon. The path was very solitary; they were +quite alone except for an occasional peasant returning from his labor.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span>“Say that you understand,” she said anxiously, as a break in the trees +revealed a long stretch of river; “you <em>must</em> say something, because I +want to know how far it is to the next bridge.”</p> + +<p>He stopped and stared ahead.</p> + +<p>“There are no more bridges,” he proclaimed.</p> + +<p>“No more bridges,” she cried.</p> + +<p>He shook his head.</p> + +<p>“Must we go the whole way back along this same muddy path?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, surely.”</p> + +<p>She turned.</p> + +<p>“Then let us go back now. There is no fun walking any further this way +after the sunset is over.”</p> + +<p>“Is it for the sunset alone that you walk?”</p> + +<p>“What shall I say?” she asked, looking up at him.</p> + +<p>“Say that you walk for me.”</p> + +<p>“And then what follows?”</p> + +<p>“I follow.”</p> + +<p>They laughed together.</p> + +<p>“I am so good to you,” he declared; “even when you laugh at me I am +never angry. I am truly so very good.”</p> + +<p>He appeared so well content with himself that they went the whole +distance to the Peace Monument before she disturbed his placid +introspection.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span> There was a pleasure to her in simply walking beside him +in silence; it was a sensation which she had never attempted to analyze, +but its existence had become a part of her own.</p> + +<p>“Do not let us go home,” he proposed suddenly, when her turning to cross +the Luitpoldbrücke recalled him to himself; “let us go somewhere and +dine alone together. It is perhaps the last time; Jack returns +to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, let us,” she agreed delightedly; but then her voice altered +suddenly for the worse. “No, it’s impossible,” she said sadly, “I can’t +go to a café and dine in this short skirt.”</p> + +<p>“Why can you not?”</p> + +<p>“Can’t you see why?”</p> + +<p>He walked off some ways to the side and gazed critically at her skirt.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” he said, rejoining her, “I can see why.”</p> + +<p>They were halfway across the bridge; he laid his hand on her arm and +stopped her.</p> + +<p>“<em>Je vous ferai un propos</em>,” he said eagerly; “we will take a car going +to the Ostbahnhof, and then we will leave it at a quiet place and seek a +quiet café and dine there.”</p> + +<p>“All right,” she said; “but you must telephone to the <em>pension</em>, or they +won’t know what has become of me.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span>“I can say that we are gone to the theatre,” he suggested.</p> + +<p>“They won’t believe that because of this skirt.”</p> + +<p>“I will say we are gone too far and must send for a cab, and will eat +while we wait.”</p> + +<p>“I think that whatever you say will sound like a lie, so it doesn’t +really matter.”</p> + +<p>“Then I will say that we do not return until after the supper, and +nothing else.”</p> + +<p>“Where will you telephone from?”</p> + +<p>“From the café. Where would I telephone from?”</p> + +<p>Rosina looked vaguely around in the darkness.</p> + +<p>“We are only three or four blocks from the <em>pension</em> now, are we not?”</p> + +<p>He glanced about.</p> + +<p>“It will be droll if we meet some one you know.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” she said coldly; “it will be very funny—like Mrs. Jones to-day.”</p> + +<p>“I am quite vexed when she came in,” he said seriously; “why do people +come in like that?”</p> + +<p>“We’ll be just as thoughtless when we’re her age,” Rosina said +charitably. “I think myself that it is astonishing that so many young +people manage to get betrothed when there are so many old people to keep +coming in.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262])</a></span>“Getting betrothed is very simple,” said Von Ibn, “because always the +young girl is willing; but when she is a young widow and not willing, +that is what is difficult, and makes Mrs. Jones <em>de trop</em>.”</p> + +<p>She was obliged to laugh.</p> + +<p>They were come to the Maximiliansstrasse, and a car was making its way +jerkily around the corners of the monument in the middle of the square. +It was a car for the Ostbahnhof, and full—very full.</p> + +<p>“Let it go by,” he said. “We will walk on and another comes in a +moment.”</p> + +<p>They let it pass, and wandered on towards the rushing river.</p> + +<p>“You see why it was so foolish to be sad,” he remarked, as they +approached the bridge; “here is the second time that you have seen the +Isar since you weep good-bye forever this afternoon.”</p> + +<p>“I didn’t weep,” she said indignantly.</p> + +<p>“Did you not? I thought that you did.”</p> + +<p>They waited for another car at the end of the bridge; the island where +the Isarlust sports its lights and music all summer, looked particularly +deserted in the contrast of this October night. She spoke of the fact.</p> + +<p>“You were often there?” he asked; “yes?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263])</a></span>“Yes, very often.”</p> + +<p>“With who?”</p> + +<p>She smiled a little in the dark.</p> + +<p>“We used to come in the evenings,” she said; “every one used to come.”</p> + +<p>Another car approached—again crowded.</p> + +<p>“Let us walk,” she suggested; “all the cars will be crowded for the next +hour.”</p> + +<p>“Will your feet go further?” he inquired anxiously.</p> + +<p>“Yes, I think so.”</p> + +<p>They turned their faces to that gardened slope which rises to the right +of the Maximilianeum. The full moon was coming up behind the stately +building, and its glorious open arches were outlined against the evening +sky. The great tower which rose at the end near them seemed to mount +straight upward into heaven itself.</p> + +<p>“I don’t want to leave the Maximilianeum,” she exclaimed, reft with an +intense admiration for the grandeur of what was before her; “I don’t +want to leave the Bavarian moon; oh, I don’t want to leave Munich; not a +bit.”</p> + +<p>“And me?” said her companion, taking her arm, “do you want to not leave +me also?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t want to leave you either,” she declared. “I don’t want to leave +anything, and I must leave everything. Oh,” she exclaimed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span> suddenly and +viciously, “I wish I might know who it was that wrote home to Uncle +John.”</p> + +<p>“But you have thought to know?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I’m almost sure that it was that man in Zurich.”</p> + +<p>“He was not so bad, that Zuricher man,” he said, reflectively. “Did I +ever say to you that I did go to the Gare with him when he went to +Lucerne?”</p> + +<p>“No, you never told me that. What did you go to the station with him +for?”</p> + +<p>“I thought that I would know whether after all he really went to +Constance. At the Gare, after he has bought his ticket for Lucerne, I +find him most agreeable.”</p> + +<p>“Did you really think that perhaps he <em>was</em> going to Constance?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I did. I find it very natural that he shall want to go to +Constance. I am surprise that day at every one who can decide to go any +other place because I so wish to get to Constance myself. <em>Vous +comprenez?</em>”</p> + +<p>She was obliged to smile audibly.</p> + +<p>“It was very funny the way that you came into the Insel <em>salle-à-manger</em> +that night. I never was more surprised in my life.”</p> + +<p>“I like to come to you that way,” he went on. “When you are so your face +becomes glad and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span> I believe that you have been really lonely for me +and—”</p> + +<p>He stopped suddenly; two big electric lights loomed at the corner to +their right and the scene which was revealed by the uncurtained state of +the window was responsible for the sudden turn of the current of his +thoughts.</p> + +<p>“We can eat there,” he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>She stopped, astonished.</p> + +<p>“Can we?” she asked. “I wouldn’t think so.”</p> + +<p>“But surely yes,” he affirmed; “it is a café.”</p> + +<p>He flung the door open as he spoke and stood back to let her pass +inside.</p> + +<p>“It is a little smoky,” he continued, as the door fell to, “but—”</p> + +<p>“A little!” she interrupted.</p> + +<p>“But what does that do to you? and there is another lady, so it is very +right for you to be here too.”</p> + +<p>“She doesn’t look like a lady to me,” said Rosina, dodging under a +billiard-cue, for in this particular café the centre of the room is +occupied by the billiard-tables; “she looks decidedly otherwise.”</p> + +<p>Von Ibn glanced carelessly at the person alluded to.</p> + +<p>“It is always a woman,” he remarked; and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span> then he led the way around to +a vacant corner where there was somewhat less confusion than elsewhere. +“Here you may sit down,” he commanded, and laid aside his own hat and +overcoat.</p> + +<p>She obeyed him, contemplating her surroundings with interest as she +began to unbutton her gloves.</p> + +<p>For the place was, to her eyes, unique of its kind, her lot having been +cast hitherto in quite another class of cafés. It was very large, and +decidedly hideous, wainscoted in imitation panels and frescoed in +imitation paintings. The columns which supported the ceilings were +brilliantly banded in various colors and flowered out below their +pediments into iron branches of oak leaves among which blossomed the +bulbs of many electric lights. By each column stood a severely plain +hat-rack. In the middle of the room were four billiard tables, around +its sides numberless small marble-topped stands where beer was being +served galore. Against the walls were fastened several of those +magnificent mirrors which testify so loudly to the reasonable price of +good glass in that happy land across the seas; each mirror was flanked +by two stuffed eagles, and decorated above its centre with one ornate +quirl in gilt and stucco. And the whole was full and more than full of +smoke.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span>Von Ibn rapped on the tiled floor with his umbrella, and a waitress +serving at a table near, five beer-mugs in each hand, nodded that she +heard. Then he turned to Rosina:</p> + +<p>“<em>Eh bien!</em>”</p> + +<p>“I never was in a place like this before.”</p> + +<p>“You may very likely never be in such a one again,” he told her +seriously; “so you must be as happy as you can while you’re here.”</p> + +<p>“That reason for having a good time hadn’t occurred to me,” she +answered, giving him back his smile.</p> + +<p>“Then think to occur it now,” he rejoined.</p> + +<p>The waitress had by this time gotten rid of her ten mugs and came to +them, beginning proceedings by spreading the ménu down on the table and +running her pencil through item after item.</p> + +<p>“You had better order before everything is gone,” Rosina suggested.</p> + +<p>“I must think the same,” he replied, and took up the ménu.</p> + +<p>“<em>Haben Sie bouillon?</em>” he demanded immediately.</p> + +<p>The waitress signified that bouillon was not to be.</p> + +<p>“How shall I do?” he asked, looking blank. “In all my life I have never +eat without a bouillon before?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268])</a></span>Rosina and the waitress felt their mutual helplessness in this +difficulty, and the proceedings in hand came to a standstill natural +under the circumstances.</p> + +<p>“Can’t they make you some?” the American brain suggested.</p> + +<p>He turned the idea over in his mind once or twice and then:</p> + +<p>“No,” he said; “it is not worth. It will be better that we eat now, and +later, when I am in town, I will get a bouillon.”</p> + +<p>So, that difficulty being disposed of, he ordered a species of repast +with an infinite sense of amusement over the bill of fare. The waitress +then retired and they were left alone in their corner.</p> + +<p>“The other lady is getting kissed,” Rosina said. The publicity of a +certain grade of continental love-making is always both interesting and +amazing to the Anglo-Saxon temperament.</p> + +<p>He looked behind him without at all disturbing what was in progress +there. After a minute’s quiet stare he turned back in his seat and +shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>“You see how simple it is when the woman is still,” he said pointedly. +“There is no fainting there; he loses no seventeen-mark umbrella from +Baden-Baden.”</p> + +<p>She ignored the gist of this remark, and began<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span> to unhook the collar of +her jacket. Then she decided to take it off altogether.</p> + +<p>“You find it too warm?” he said, rising to assist her.</p> + +<p>“I certainly do.”</p> + +<p>“It is curious for you and I to be in such a place, <em>n’est-ce pas</em>?”</p> + +<p>“Very curious.”</p> + +<p>“But it is an experience, like eating in the woods.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t think that it is at all like eating in the woods; I think that +nothing could be more different.”</p> + +<p>“We are so alone.”</p> + +<p>“Oh!”</p> + +<p>“Now you understand what I mean.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, now I understand what you mean. And it is really a little like the +woods, too,” she added. “Those iron acorns and leaves are the branches, +and the stuffed eagles are the birds.”</p> + +<p>He looked at the oak-branches and the eagles for some time, and then he +said:</p> + +<p>“Let us talk.”</p> + +<p>“What are we doing now?”</p> + +<p>“We are waiting for what is to be to eat.”</p> + +<p>“I thought that that in itself was always sufficient entertainment for a +man.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270])</a></span>“I like better to talk. I have not much time more to talk with you, +<em>vous savez</em>.”</p> + +<p>“We will talk,” she said, hastily. Her eyes wandered vaguely over the +room seeking a subject for immediate discussion; all that she saw was +the perpendicular cue of one of the billiard players.</p> + +<p>“Watch!” she exclaimed. “He’s going to make an awfully difficult shot.”</p> + +<p>Von Ibn looked towards the player with very little interest depicted on +his countenance.</p> + +<p>“Oh, he missed,” she exclaimed disgustedly.</p> + +<p>“But of course. How could a man like that do such a <em>massé</em>? You are so +hopeful ever. You say, ‘See him make so difficult a play,’ when only +looking upon the man’s face tells that he himself is sure that he is +about to fail.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll give you a riddle,” she went on, receiving his expostulation with +a smile. “But perhaps you don’t know what a riddle is?” she added +questioningly.</p> + +<p>“Yes, I do know what a riddle is; it is what you do not know and must +tell.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, that is it.”</p> + +<p>“And your riddle is?”</p> + +<p>“Why am I like a dragon?”</p> + +<p>“Like a—” he faltered.</p> + +<p>“Dragon.”</p> + +<p>“What is a dragon?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271])</a></span>“It’s a horrible monster. Don’t you know the picture in the Schaak +Gallery of that creature running its neck out through the slit in the +rock so as to devour the two donkeys?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I know the picture. But that creature is blue.”</p> + +<p>“Oh,” she said hopelessly, “it’s no use trying to tell you riddles, you +don’t understand.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I do,” he cried eagerly. “I understand perfectly and I assure you +that I like very much. Dragon is ‘<em>drachen</em>,’ <em>n’est ce pas</em>?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“And you are as one?”</p> + +<p>“I ask <em>why</em> am I like one?”</p> + +<p>He looked particularly blank.</p> + +<p>“You are perhaps hungry?” he hazarded.</p> + +<p>She began to laugh.</p> + +<p>“No, it’s because I’m breathing smoke.”</p> + +<p>“Do dragons breathe smoke? It is a salamander you are believing in.”</p> + +<p>“In pictures dragons always breathe smoke and fire.”</p> + +<p>“But there is no fire here.”</p> + +<p>“There must be somewhere, because there is so much smoke.”</p> + +<p>He was unmoved and ruminative.</p> + +<p>“I do not find your riddle very clever,” he said at last.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span>Rosina buried the poor, weak, little scintillation at once and stamped +on its grave in hot haste.</p> + +<p>“I think that our dinner is coming,” she announced presently, turning +her veil above her brows, “and I am so hungry.”</p> + +<p>“I find your hunger a much better answer of that riddle than to be +breathing smoke,” he said.</p> + +<p>“Of course you do, because that is the answer that you thought of.”</p> + +<p>The waitress began to arrange the dishes upon the table and when all was +in order he prepared to serve them both.</p> + +<p>“I often start to say most clever things,” he said, as he carved the +fish, “but before I can speak you have always say something else.”</p> + +<p>She took the plate that he passed her, and picked up her fork at once.</p> + +<p>“Then when you are silent for a quarter of an hour or so it would really +pay me to keep still and wait; wouldn’t it?” she inquired.</p> + +<p>He took a mouthful and deliberated.</p> + +<p>“I think so,” he said at last.</p> + +<p>A deep stillness fell over the festal board. Von Ibn was mute and his +companion felt that, the preceding remarks considered, she would be dumb +herself. The entire meal was accordingly eaten in absolute silence, +until, when she had finished,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span> she could not refrain from stealing one +amused glance in his direction.</p> + +<p>“You laugh,” he said, returning the smile in kind.</p> + +<p>“I am sure that it is going to be something very brilliant this time,” +she told him.</p> + +<p>He stared for a minute; and then he understood and laughed aloud.</p> + +<p>“I only eat then,” he exclaimed, “<em>mais, Dieu! quels enfants nous sommes +ensemble</em>. I must often wonder if you are so happy with me as I am with +you? I cannot say why it is, but if you only be there I am content. Tell +me, is it at all so for you?”</p> + +<p>“I enjoy you,” she answered; “most men are stupid or horrid.”</p> + +<p>“When?” he asked anxiously.</p> + +<p>“When one is much with them.”</p> + +<p>He looked at her with some alarm.</p> + +<p>“But are many men much with you?”</p> + +<p>Rosina laughed merrily over the trouble in his face.</p> + +<p>“You would have been unbearable if you had been of a jealous +disposition,” she said, nodding.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” he replied gravely, “I have always feel that myself; for with me +it is very strong that there shall be no other. But tell me now, truly +are many men much with you?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274])</a></span>“Why I have hosts of friends,” she declared, “and, on account of the way +that the world is made, half of them are obliged to be men.”</p> + +<p>“But you said that they were all stupid or horrible,” he reminded her +carefully.</p> + +<p>“I said that most of them were.”</p> + +<p>He thought a moment.</p> + +<p>“I wish that there had been a bouillon here,” he said then.</p> + +<p>She began to put on her gloves, thinking that the hour of departure was +close at hand.</p> + +<p>“<em>J’ai envie de fûmer une cigarette</em>,” he said suddenly, “<em>ça ne vous +fait rien d’attender un peu</em>?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t care,” she answered, and laid her gloves down again.</p> + +<p>“Am I ever horrible to you?” he asked, taking a match from the white +china pyramid that ornamented the centre of the table.</p> + +<p>“I didn’t say ‘horrible;’ I said ‘horrid.’”</p> + +<p>“Is there a difference?” he lit his cigarette.</p> + +<p>“Yes, indeed.”</p> + +<p>He crossed his arms upon the table, and smiled at her through his own +personal quota of smoke.</p> + +<p>“Tell me the difference. Why are we horrid?”</p> + +<p>“Because you so often are. Men never understand.”</p> + +<p>“<em>Au contraire</em>,” he said quietly, “men always<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span> understand. It is the +woman who will not believe it, and it is cruel to say her the truth. A +woman is always <em>genée</em>, she will sob in a man’s arms and still declare +that ‘No.’ Why is it necessary for her to be so? That I cannot +understand.”</p> + +<p>Rosina caught a quick little breath; she had not been prepared for such +a turn of conversation. Von Ibn went on with a degree of nonchalance +that masked his close observance admirably.</p> + +<p>“When a man loves a woman, he knows certainly if she loves him or not. +It is there every minute in her eyes and on her lips; and yet he must +ask her, and she must pretend a surprise. Why? We are altogether human. +Then why must women be different? I am most sorry for a poor woman; she +cannot be kissed or caressed or loved without the pretence that she +dislikes it. It must be very difficult.”</p> + +<p>She felt her face getting warm.</p> + +<p>“You do not like what I have say?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“Because it is true?”</p> + +<p>“It isn’t true.”</p> + +<p>“An American would not say that to you?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly not.”</p> + +<p>“Do you like better the American way of covering up all truth?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276])</a></span>“It is politer, I think.”</p> + +<p>He looked at her for a moment.</p> + +<p>“I have been horrible, <em>n’est-ce pas</em>?” he asked.</p> + +<p>She felt very uncomfortable indeed.</p> + +<p>“Do let us go now,” she said in a low tone.</p> + +<p>He struck his water-glass with a knife, and their waitress, who was near +by, looked around.</p> + +<p>“<em>’Zahlen!</em>” he called to her. She nodded. He went for his coat and hat, +and when he returned Rosina was fastening the frogs on her jacket.</p> + +<p>“I would have put it on if you had waited,” he said in a tone of +remonstrance.</p> + +<p>“I am used to getting into it,” she assured him.</p> + +<p>He looked attentively at her and perceived more than she thought. Then +the waitress came up and recited all that they had eaten in a sing-song +tone, and he pushed some money towards her with a gesture that disposed +of the question as to making change.</p> + +<p>“We will go out now,” he said, turning towards the door, and the next +minute they were in the cool, fresh night air. He put his hand upon her +arm, and bent his head a little.</p> + +<p>“Do not be vexed with me,” he said softly; “even a little vexing of you +makes me great pain.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span>Then he pressed her arm closely.</p> + +<p>“It is not long that we have now to talk. I beg you talk to me; do not +be so sad.”</p> + +<p>“I’m not sad.”</p> + +<p>“Then talk.”</p> + +<p>She gathered up her energy with a mighty effort.</p> + +<p>“What shall we talk about?”</p> + +<p>“Anything. Have you a letter to-day?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“From who? From Jack?”</p> + +<p>“No, from the Marquis de W——.”</p> + +<p>His fingers came together over her arm in a vice-like grip.</p> + +<p>“I have never heard of him,” he cried; “where have you know him?”</p> + +<p>“In Paris. And then I met him on the train—”</p> + +<p>Von Ibn’s eyes grew large with fright.</p> + +<p>“But you must not meet men on trains,” he said; “that is not at all +proper for you.”</p> + +<p>“He took charge of me from Paris to Lucerne,” she said soothingly; “he +is really very delightful—”</p> + +<p>“I did not see him at Lucerne,” he interrupted.</p> + +<p>“No, he was gone when you came.”</p> + +<p>“How old is he?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278])</a></span>“He is seventy.”</p> + +<p>His heat subsided suddenly, and there was a pause during which she felt +circulation returning slowly to her arm.</p> + +<p>“And you have a letter from him to-day?” he asked, after a while.</p> + +<p>“I have a letter from him almost every day.”</p> + +<p>He looked down at her with an air of genuine astonishment.</p> + +<p>“What can a man of seventy say in a letter almost every day?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“He can say a great deal. He wants me to marry him!”</p> + +<p>He laughed aloud, and then exclaimed gayly:</p> + +<p>“What a great lady you will be! and how nice you will look in your +mourning!” and then he threw his cigarette away and laughed afresh.</p> + +<p>His laughter was so infectious that she laughed also.</p> + +<p>“He writes me how happy I would be with him,” she continued merrily; +“and he is very positive about it, too. How can he think that I would +really wish to marry him?”</p> + +<p>“He can think it very well from the newspapers of your land. Is he not a +marquis? If I did not love you, I should always have surprise to think +that you are an American, and will not let me make you a great lady.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279])</a></span>She ignored this speech in its entirety.</p> + +<p>“To think,” she pursued, “that one cannot travel in a daughterly way +with a gentleman of seventy without—”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” he interrupted, “but that is why it is best not to travel in the +charge of gentlemen. One is always so liable to be disagreeably urged to +become a marchioness.”</p> + +<p>She assented with a thoughtful nod.</p> + +<p>“I don’t answer all his letters,” she said; “I burn them.”</p> + +<p>“Poor marquis!”</p> + +<p>“They are good letters of their kind; but there are a whole lot of +things which it does not pay to write to a widow. You can fool a girl, +but a widow always knows.”</p> + +<p>“Does a widow always know?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, dear me; yes.”</p> + +<p>“Then why did you not save the poor marquis his pain?”</p> + +<p>“I never dreamed of his feeling that way. How could I? I only thought he +was delightful. And always, even the first day at Madame de S——’s, +when he said adieu he would kiss my hands in the most adorable Louis +XIV. kind of a way.”</p> + +<p>“And all the while it was in his heart a plot to marry you. You see!”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280])</a></span>“Men are so queer,” she reflected; “I cannot see why that old gentleman +should have wanted to marry me.”</p> + +<p>“I can,” said Von Ibn, dryly; “I can see quite well.”</p> + +<p>The marquis as a topic of conversation seemed at an end. They were in +the Hellerstrasse, going towards the river, and the heaviness which the +Isar always cast over her fell down about her spirits.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I <em>cannot</em> believe that in forty-eight hours I shall be gone!” she +exclaimed suddenly.</p> + +<p>“Do not go,” he said, tightening his hold upon her arm again; “stay with +me.”</p> + +<p>“I must go,” she declared. “I couldn’t stay with you, anyway,” she +added, in a tone of unintended mournfulness.</p> + +<p>His mood altered, and the light of a street lamp showed that every tinge +of gayety had fled his face.</p> + +<p>“You have no will of your own,” he said with acerbity; “that Jack has it +all. I find you so very weak.”</p> + +<p>She raised her eyes to his and they looked strangely at one another. The +moon was above them, full and beautiful, and the Isar rapids were +murmuring their far cry.</p> + +<p>“We shall return over the Ludwigsbrücke,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span>” he said, and they went down +the incline in silence.</p> + +<p>She thought vaguely, “I am here now, and <em>he</em> is here! How will it be +when I am gone and we are separated forever?” But her brain refused to +comprehend—only her heart felt the warmth of his touch upon her sleeve.</p> + +<p>So they came down to the bridge, which abuts on an island and +accommodates the tram passing from the Ostbahnhof to the Marien Platz. +The Isarthor rose up grimly between the city lights and their view. +Above was the golden moon. Behind, the black outlines of the suburb +which they had just quitted.</p> + +<p>“Let us stop here,” he proposed, pausing by the bridge rail, and she +stayed her steps in obedience.</p> + +<p>It was nearly nine o’clock, and the passers-by were few. They had the +bridge quite to themselves; the water running beneath murmured gently, +but did not interrupt even their unvoiced thoughts.</p> + +<p>The man took out his <em>étui</em> and lit another cigarette, sinking his +sombre gaze meanwhile deep into the stream below. His companion leaned +upon the stone parapet.</p> + +<p>And then he sighed most heavily.</p> + +<p>“It is the autumn,” he said; “all the summer<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span> is over. <em>Tout est fini!</em>” +There was a profound melancholy in his voice which threw a band of iron +about her throat and choked all power of speech out of her. “How little +I know last May of what this summer brings,” he continued; “I have +believe that all summers were to come alike to me.”</p> + +<p>A tram approached and crossed behind them with a mighty rumble. When all +was still he spoke again, and the tone of his voice was childishly +wistful.</p> + +<p>“I did not know, there in Lucerne, before you came, how happy I might +be. You are not so wonderful, but to me you are now a need, like air +which I must breathe to live.”</p> + +<p>There was an anguish underlying his words which set her heart to aching +intolerably.</p> + +<p>“Oh,” she gasped helplessly, “let us walk on! Let us go home! I cannot +bear to hear all that again.”</p> + +<p>She turned to go, but he caught her hand in his.</p> + +<p>“I must speak,” he said forcefully, though in the lowest possible tones; +“it is perhaps the tenth time, but it is certainly the last time. Will +you not think once more again of it all, and say here now that you love +me?”</p> + +<p>He held her hand so tightly that it was impossible for her to withdraw +it. She looked up in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span> his face, and the moon showed each the unfeigned +feeling of the other.</p> + +<p>“You don’t know about marriage,” she told him with white lips and +laboring breath. “One may be very unhappy alone, and there is always the +strength to bear, but when you are married and unhappiness comes, there +is always that other unhappiness chained to you like a clog, shutting +out all joy in the present, all hope in the future; and nothing can help +you, and you can help nothing.” She stopped and put her hand to her +bosom. “Only death can help!” she cried, in a voice as if a physical +torture had its grip upon her; “and it is so awful when death alone can +help!” She looked at the ground and then up at him. “Oh,” she sighed +miserably, “how can I dare to go where I may come to that pass again? +Don’t ask that of me.”</p> + +<p>He turned his face away from her and she felt his fingers loosen, little +by little, their clasp upon her arm. Then he loosed her altogether, left +her side, moved away a space, and stood, his head bowed, his eyes bent +upon the water. There was a fearful horror of hopelessness in his +attitude.</p> + +<p>Down from the Gasteig came a cab, an empty cab, and he looked up and +hailed it.</p> + +<p>“We will ride home,” he said, coming back to her; “I am bereft of +strength.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284])</a></span>The cab halted and he put her inside.</p> + +<p>“6 Maximiliansstrasse,” he called to the driver, and got in himself and +banged the door behind him.</p> + +<p>Then he threw himself back against the cushions, covered his eyes with +his hand, and remained silent and motionless the ten minutes that they +were <em>en route</em>.</p> + +<p>She did not speak either; she dared not. The air was so heavy with +sorrow and despair that words would have seemed like desecration; and +the telepathic misery that emanated from him loaded her soul as if she +had been guilty of a crime.</p> + +<p>When the cab stopped he opened the door, and as he turned to give her +his hand she caught one shocked glimpse of the grief in his face—of the +oddly drawn look of suffering in his half-closed eyes. The whole change +in him, in them, in it all, had come so quickly that as she stepped from +the cab she was conscious of a stunned sensation, a dazed lack of +feeling, a cold and stony power to bear much—for a little while.</p> + +<p>“Go by the door,” he said in muffled tones, “I must pay the cab.”</p> + +<p>She crossed the width of the sidewalk and stood by the great <em>porte</em>, +waiting.</p> + +<p>When the cabman was disposed of he came to her side, and felt in his +pocket for the keys.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span> Then he took his gloves off and felt again; as he +felt he stared steadily across the street.</p> + +<p>“It’s the round key,” she said, when he finally produced them. “Have you +any tapers? I’m afraid that the hall will be dark.”</p> + +<p>He shrugged his shoulders as if tapers were of no earthly consequence in +such a time of stress. Then he fitted the key in the lock and swung back +the massive portal.</p> + +<p>Because of that vast key system which is part of the intricacy of the +very good housekeeping of Frau G——, there was no necessity to disturb +the Hausmeister; but nothing could lessen the wail of the door which let +them in with a groan, and closed behind them with a bang that was worthy +of the occasion. It was the man’s place to have lessened the noise by +laying a restraining hand upon the lock, in accordance with the printed +directions nailed against the main panel, but Rosina felt intuitively +that this was no time to remind him of the fact.</p> + +<p>With the closing of the door they were left in a darkness thorough and +complete.</p> + +<p>Rosina’s voice: “You said you had wax tapers.”</p> + +<p>Von Ibn’s voice: “No, I have not say so.”</p> + +<p>Rosina’s accents of distress: “Haven’t you any tapers?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286])</a></span>Von Ibn’s voice, dully: “Yes, I have, but I have not say so before.”</p> + +<p>Rosina, entreatingly: “Then do please light one.”</p> + +<p>Dead silence.</p> + +<p>She began to walk towards the stairs that she could not see; as she did +so she heard his keys jingling, and knew from the sound that he must be +hunting the wherewithal for illumination. He struck a match and adjusted +it in the small hole at the end of the box, and as he did so he called:</p> + +<p>“Stop! wait for me to come also.”</p> + +<p>She paused and looked back towards him. By the white light of the little +taper his face appeared absolutely ghastly, and his heavy eyelids +drooped in a way that pierced her heart.</p> + +<p>“I think,” he said, when he was beside her, “that it is better that I go +to-morrow very early, and that we meet no more.”</p> + +<p>At that she was forced to put her hand against the wall in the seeking +for some support without herself. They were upon the first step of the +stairs, she leaning against one side wall and he standing close to the +other. After he had spoken he crossed to her and his voice altered.</p> + +<p>“If you had loved me,” he said, “here—now—I should have kissed you, +and all would have been for us as of the skies above.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287])</a></span>“Oh, look out!” she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>He was close above her.</p> + +<p>“You are afraid of me?”</p> + +<p>“No, it is the wax; you are letting it drip on us both.”</p> + +<p>“It should stop upon the box,” he said shortly.</p> + +<p>She began to mount the stairs, pulling off her gloves as she went. One +fell, and he stooped quickly for it, with the result that he dropped the +match-box. Again they were alone in the darkness.</p> + +<p>“This is an awful place,” he said irritably, feeling blindly for what +was lost. “That I am on my knees to a match-box this night,” he added +savagely.</p> + +<p>Her soul was full of sympathy for him. She bent to aid him in his +search, and her hand in its wandering encountered his own. He seized her +fingers and pressed them to his lips, and she knew that he was kneeling +close at her feet.</p> + +<p>“This is impossible,” he said vaguely, hurriedly; “we may not part now +in a minute, like this. You have spoken foolishly, and I have accept it +too quick. We must speak longer and talk reasonably to each of us. We +must go where we may sit down and be quiet. <em>Faut être raisonable.</em> Let +us go out of the door and go to the Café Luitpold and there speak.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288])</a></span>The Café Luitpold is a gorgeous and fashionable resort in the +Briennerstrasse; its decorations are a cross between Herrn-Chiemsee and +a Norddeutscher steamer, and its reputation is blameless.</p> + +<p>“I can’t go to the Café Luitpold at ten o’clock at night in a golf +skirt,” she objected gently, and tried to continue on her upward way; +but he held her fast by her hand, and as he pressed it alternately to +his face and lips, she felt her flesh wet with hot tears.</p> + +<p>“You are crying!” she exclaimed in awe.</p> + +<p>“I hope not,” he said; “I hope not, but I am near it. If I do weep, will +you then despise me?”</p> + +<p>“No,” she said faintly; “no—I—”</p> + +<p>He rose to his feet, and in the dark she knew him to be very, very near. +He still held her hand and his breath touched her cheek.</p> + +<p>“Oh,” he whispered, “say you love me if it be but so little! <em>Dites que +vous m’aimez!</em> I have hoped so greatly, I have dreamed so greatly; I +will ask now no more to possess you for my own; I will content myself +with what you can so easy give—only a little love—”</p> + +<p>He drew his arm about her. Something within her was rising as the slow +tide rises before the September gale, and she felt that all her +firmness<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span> would be as the sand forts which the children build, when that +irresistible final wave shall carry its engulfing volume over all. She +summoned to her aid the most frightful souvenirs of her unhappy +marriage, and pushed him violently away. His answer was a sudden grasp +of mighty vigor, at which she gave a muffled scream.</p> + +<p>“You detest me, then?” he said through his teeth.</p> + +<p>“It is my hat,” she cried, freeing herself; “you drove the longest pin +straight into my head.”</p> + +<p>He moved a little away, and in so doing trod upon the match-box. Then in +an instant there was light again, and he could see her, her arms +upraised, straightening her hat.</p> + +<p>“It is most badly on,” he told her.</p> + +<p>“I know it,” she replied, starting swiftly upward.</p> + +<p>At the curve he stopped short and shut his eyes; she stopped too, three +steps farther on.</p> + +<p>“Are you ill?” she asked anxiously.</p> + +<p>He opened his eyes.</p> + +<p>“I am most unhappy,” he replied, and went on again.</p> + +<p>So they came to the top at last.</p> + +<p>“Here we are,” she said, halting before the door; “give me the keys, +they work intricately.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290])</a></span>He handed them to her in silence; she took them in her hand and tried to +smile.</p> + +<p>“If you really go to-morrow,” she said, as she put one into the lock, “I +hope—” her lips trembled traitorously and she could not go on.</p> + +<p>“<em>Dites</em>,” he whispered, coming nearer, “you do care a little, a very—”</p> + +<p>He dropped the matches a second time.</p> + +<p>“<em>That</em> was never an accident,” she cried, below her breath.</p> + +<p>“It was not my intention,” he declared; then he added, “you have only to +go in, I can very well find my way out in the dark.”</p> + +<p>But the door refused to open; instead, the key turned around and around +in the lock.</p> + +<p>“I do believe,” she said at last, in a curiously inexplicable tone, +“that we have come up the wrong stairs!”</p> + +<p>A sort of atmosphere of blankness saturated the gloom.</p> + +<p>“Is there another stair?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“Yes; it goes from the other passage. It’s the staircase to No. 5. I +think—indeed I’m sure—that we have come up the stairs of No. 6 with +the keys of No. 5.”</p> + +<p>“I have never know that there was another stair,” he declared. “If you +had say that before<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span> I—” then a fresh thought led him to interrupt +himself. “It is a fate that leads us. We must go to the street again, +and we shall go to the American Bar and talk there.”</p> + +<p>The “American Bar” is the name which the Hotel Vierjahreszeiten has +elected to give to a small and curious restaurant situated in its +basement. There is nothing against the “American Bar” except its name, +which naturally leads American women to avoid it.</p> + +<p>“I don’t want to go anywhere,” said Rosina, drawing the keys into her +hand; “it is no use. We are both all used up. I want to get home. And I +couldn’t go anywhere if I wanted to in this skirt.”</p> + +<p>“It is always that skirt,” he cried angrily; “that my heart breaks +to-night is nothing,—only ever I must hear of your skirt.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, where <em>are</em> the matches?” she said nervously; “we must find them +somehow.”</p> + +<p>He stooped to institute another search, and the umbrella slipped from +his hand; it struck the floor with a noise that echoed from the attic to +the cellar.</p> + +<p>“Oh!” she gasped sharply; “we shall wake every one in the building +before we get through.”</p> + +<p>“It is very terrible—this night,” he said quietly, and as he spoke he +found the match-box<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span> and there was light again. Then he picked up his +umbrella, and they returned down the three flights of stairs. In the +lower hall he stopped again.</p> + +<p>“We <em>cannot</em> separate like this,” he said, laying his hand upon her arm; +“there are doings that one human cannot do. I must speak longer with you +before I go. It is not talking to be going ever up and down steps with a +wax taper. I know nothing of what I have say since we leave the cab, and +here, each minute, any one may enter. When we go out, come with me +across to the Hofbrauhaus, and there we will talk for but five minutes, +and then you shall return. Your skirt will go very well there. We shall +quickly return. <em>Dites ‘oui’</em>.”</p> + +<p>The Hofbrauhaus is, as its name indicates, the café, or rather +<em>brasserie</em>, of the Court brewery. It is a curious place, the beer of +which is backed by centuries of fame, and Von Ibn told no lie when he +said that any skirt would do well there.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I can’t go,” she said, almost crying in her distress and agitation. +“It will do no good; we just suffer more and more the longer we are +together. I am miserable and you are miserable, and it takes all my +strength to remember that if I yield we shall be very much more +miserable in the end. Let me get home!”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293])</a></span>She unlocked the large <em>porte</em> as she spoke, and he blew out the taper, +pushed it open, held it while she passed through, and then stayed its +slam carefully behind her.</p> + +<p>Then there was the <em>porte</em> of No. 5 to unlock and the taper to relight, +and three more staircases to mount.</p> + +<p>“I shall go to-morrow morning,” he said quietly and hopelessly, as they +went a second time upon their upward way. “I shall put all the force of +my will to it that I go. It is better so. <em>Pourquoi vous vexer avec mon +ardent désir pour vous?</em>”</p> + +<p>Her heart contracted with a spasm of pain, but she made no reply.</p> + +<p>“To meet again will be but more to suffer,” he continued. “I touch at +the end of what I am capable to suffer. Why should I distress you for no +good to any one? And for me all this is so very bad! I can accomplish +nothing. The power dies in me these days. <em>Toute ma jeunesse est prise!</em> +I feel myself become old and most desolate. I am content that it is +good-bye here.”</p> + +<p>It seemed to her that her turn had come to falter, and fail to move, and +close her eyes in misery. If—if—only—</p> + +<p>But they went on slowly until the top landing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span> was just above their +heads. Both knew that the top landing must bring the termination of all.</p> + +<p>She took the door-key in her hand, went a little ahead of him and fitted +it noiselessly into the lock. It turned. The end was at hand. She looked +towards him and attempted a smile. He put the match-box on the window +ledge and drew her within his arms.</p> + +<p>“It is for the first and the last time,” he said hoarsely, and then he +kissed her furiously, passionately,—twice, thrice, and once again. +“<em>C’est comme ça, l’amour!</em>” he whispered; “and because you know nothing +of it, you let it go from you.”</p> + +<p>Then he put his hand to his throat as if strangling, and, opening the +door, stepped aside.</p> + +<p>“Good-bye,” he murmured, as she passed within. “<em>Bon voyage!</em>”</p> + +<p>The door closed between them.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>She went to her room and found Ottillie asleep upon the sofa.</p> + +<p>She crossed to the window, opened it softly and leaned out; after a +little she heard the door beneath open and close, and then his shadow +fell beneath the electric light.</p> + +<p>Then he was gone!</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span>This time there would be no return.</p> + +<p>The moisture of his lips was yet upon her own, and he was gone forever.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>She crossed the room and fell upon her knees beside the bed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296–298]</a></span></p> + +<p class="back"><a href="#contents">Back to Contents</a></p> + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span><a name="iii" id="iii"></a><span class="smcap">Part III</span><br /> +<br /> +THE BREAKING OF THE BARRIERS</h2> + + + +<hr class="hr4" /> + +<h2>Chapter Fourteen</h2> + + +<p class="cap">IT was very early, very dark, very cheerless, that most miserable hour +of six o’clock in the morning, the very worst hour ever known in which +to be routed out of bed in order that an unpleasant journey may be +begun.</p> + +<p>Without, it was faintly light; within, it was brightly gas. What is less +cheerful than the aspect given a room by the gas burning high at six +o’clock in the morning? Rosina’s room looked absolutely ghastly, for it +was bare of everything but travelling apparatus, and they were all +strapped and waiting. She herself sat before her untouched breakfast +tray and watched Ottillie lace her boots, while she dismally went over +for the two hundred and seventy-sixth time every detail of the night +before the last.</p> + +<p>There was a tap at the door and Jack came in. He was tanned with his +recent trip and had a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span> thrilling new travelling ulster with carved +deer-horn buttons. He had bought the buttons at the Tagernsee and had +had an ulster constructed in Vienna, just as a background for them. He +looked at his cousin with a buoyant air that she felt to be bitterly +unkind, all things considered, and exclaimed:</p> + +<p>“You must hurry up, my dear; the cab will be at the door in five +minutes, and we don’t want to miss that train, you know.”</p> + +<p>“I’m quite ready,” she said helplessly.</p> + +<p>“Is all this stuff going?” he asked, looking about; “you can’t mean to +carry all this with us to Genoa, surely.”</p> + +<p>Rosina’s eyes strayed here and there over the umbrella case, the two +dress-boxes, the carry-all, the toilet case, the two valises, the +dress-suit case, and the hat-box. She did not appear to consider the +total anything to be ashamed of.</p> + +<p>“What’s in those two boxes?” Jack continued.</p> + +<p>“Clothes.”</p> + +<p>“Why didn’t you put them in a trunk?”</p> + +<p>“You told me to send all my trunks <em>frachtgut</em> two weeks ago. I had to +keep out some to wear, naturally.”</p> + +<p>He drew a martyr’s breath.</p> + +<p>“You do beat all! I don’t know how we’re<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[301]</a></span> ever going to get all this +stuff along with us. There isn’t anything more, is there, Ottillie?”</p> + +<p>“<em>Oh, mais non, monsieur!</em>”</p> + +<p>“All right. You better have them take all this down; the cab must be +there by this time.”</p> + +<p>Rosina stood up.</p> + +<p>“I must say good-bye to Fraulein Hélène and her mamma,” she said sadly, +going to the door.</p> + +<p>The good-bye was a trying one, and its tears were harshly interrupted by +a voice in the hall:</p> + +<p>“Come on, Rosina, we’re going to miss that train for a fact if you don’t +hurry.”</p> + +<p>“Go, my dear child,” said Frau G——; “do not weep so. Many think that +they are going forever, but they all always return.”</p> + +<p>Rosina choked, and went.</p> + +<p>Jack rattled her down the stairs—those sob-provoking stairs—at a +tremendous rate, and when they went out of the <em>porte</em> their eyes were +greeted by a cab that looked like a furniture van, so overloaded was its +capacity.</p> + +<p>“George, but it’s full!” Jack cried in dismay. “Well, there’s no time to +get another; we must just pile in some way and let it go at that.”</p> + +<p>They piled in some way and it went at that.</p> + +<p>“The train leaves at 7.20,” Jack remarked as they passed the post-office +clock, “we shall just make it easy.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[302]</a></span>Rosina made no answer, and no one spoke again until they reached the +Karl Platz and the cabman slowed up and looked around inquiringly; for +some trains are reached from the front and some from the sides of the +main station at Munich, and the cabs suit their routes to the +circumstances from the Karl Platz on.</p> + +<p>“Zurich!” Jack called out, “and hurry!” he added. “We really are making +pretty close connection,” he went on, “it’s 7.05 now. But then there is +only one trunk to check.”</p> + +<p>“I’m glad that that’s yours,” Rosina said, thinking of her hand luggage +and his comments thereon.</p> + +<p>He whistled blithely.</p> + +<p>“Oh, we’ll get there all straight,” he said hopefully.</p> + +<p>They drew up before the Bahnhof at 7.10, and it behooved the man of the +party to be very spry indeed. He got their unlimited baggage on to a +hand-truck, paid the cabman, and hustled the whole caravan inside.</p> + +<p>“<em>Wo fahren Sie hin?</em>” asked the porter who operated the hand-truck, as +he went leisurely after their haste.</p> + +<p>“Zurich,” said Jack, “and <em>wir haben sehr wenig</em> time to spare; you want +to look lively.” Then he rushed to the ticket gate to send Rosina and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[303]</a></span> +her maid aboard while the trunk was being weighed.</p> + +<p>“<em>Wo fahren Sie hin?</em>” asked the man at the gate.</p> + +<p>“Zurich.”</p> + +<p>“Train goes at 7.45.”</p> + +<p>“It doesn’t either,” said Jack, who understood German fluently, “it goes +at 7.20.”</p> + +<p>For answer the man pointed to the great sign above his head, which bore +out the truth of his statement in letters six inches high.</p> + +<p>“Well, I vow,” said Jack blankly, “if that man at Schenker’s isn’t the +worst fraud I ever ran up against. Say, cousin, we’ve got over half an +hour to check my trunk in.”</p> + +<p>She shook her head as if she didn’t care.</p> + +<p>“I’ll go and see to it now,” he said, “and then I’ll come back here and +try to get on to the train.”</p> + +<p>He went off, and they waited by the gate while the man stationed there +looked at Ottillie, and her mistress recalled the tone in which a voice +had said, “It is for the first and last time!” and what came next.</p> + +<p>When Jack returned they were permitted to pass the gates and go aboard +the cars. The porter loaded the entire length of both racks with their +belongings, and as soon as he was paid Jack hung up his ulster with the +deer-horn buttons,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[304]</a></span> stretched himself at full length upon the longest +seat, and was asleep within five minutes.</p> + +<p>Rosina took the window corner opposite him and contemplated his callous +slumber with a burning bitterness.</p> + +<p>“And he must see how unhappy I am, too,” she said to herself.</p> + +<p>Then she leaned her chin upon her hand and fell into a reverie which so +blinded her with tears that when the train did move out of the yards she +beheld a Munich of mist and fog, and a Pasing which was a mere blot +amidst the general blur of her universe. She did not want to go to +Genoa, she wanted to stay in Germany; and everything which the train +passed appeared to be returning towards Munich with all possible speed, +while she, she alone, was being borne swiftly away from all—all—all.</p> + +<p>“Leaving for home,” she reflected. “I’m not <em>leaving</em> at all; I’m simply +being wrenched away! Talk about turning one’s face towards America! I’m +not turning my face; I’m having my neck wrung in that direction!” and +the tears rolled heavily down her cheeks.</p> + +<p>Ottillie unfastened one of the small valises and handed her mistress a +fresh pocket-handkerchief, an attention which was most welcome just at +that juncture.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[305]</a></span>About ten o’clock Jack opened his eyes and yawned vigorously twice or +thrice. Then he got up on his elbow.</p> + +<p>“You <em>are</em> a pretty sight!” he said, after a lengthy contemplation of +her woe; “you look like—like—well, you look pretty bad, and you +haven’t a soul to blame for it all but yourself.”</p> + +<p>She made no reply.</p> + +<p>“There’s Von Ibn gone north, declaring that his future is completely +ruined, and you sit crying like a baby because you must leave him, and +yet you won’t marry him. If he was some worthless scoundrel that +couldn’t be thought of, you know very well that all we might try to say +or do wouldn’t keep you from him for three minutes; but just because he +is so eminently all right you see a necessity for cooking up a sort of +tragedy out of nothing, and making him crazy, and yourself about as +bad.”</p> + +<p>“Have you heard from him?” she asked coldly.</p> + +<p>“I know that he left Munich yesterday early. He must have been awfully +cut up to have been willing to undertake a trip at that hour. He hates +to get up early—”</p> + +<p>“That’s no crime.”</p> + +<p>“Who said it was? So far from being a crime, it ought to have been +another bond of congeniality between you two.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[306]</a></span>“Do you know where he went?”</p> + +<p>“If he was a man at home he’d take to drink and go to the devil, but +being a fellow over here I suppose that he’ll just go up the Zug-spitz +and down the Matterhorn, and up Mont Blanc and down the Dent du Midi, +until he considers himself whole again.”</p> + +<p>She choked and said no more.</p> + +<p>The train guard came through soon after and put the usual question:</p> + +<p>“<em>Wo fahren Sie hin?</em>”</p> + +<p>“Zurich,” said Jack, as he produced their tickets; “about what time do +we get there?”</p> + +<p>“Are you going straight through?” the guard inquired as he punched a +page in each little book and restored the library to their rightful +possessor.</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Then why did you not take the express?”</p> + +<p>Jack fairly bounded in his seat.</p> + +<p>“The express!” he ejaculated. “Great Scott, do you mean to say that we +are not on it!!!”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no,” said the guard, “you are upon the way-train that follows half +an hour later. The express arrives at two-forty; this train gets in +between seven and eight at night.”</p> + +<p>Nothing could bear deeper testimony to the state of Rosina’s crushed +sensibilities than the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[307]</a></span> way in which she received this bit of +information. While Jack swore violently she continued to look out of the +window with an indifference that was entirely genuine.</p> + +<p>“To think that that other train must have been right there within a +hundred feet of us!” cried her cousin.</p> + +<p>She did not turn an eyelash.</p> + +<p>“By George, Rosina, I don’t believe I ever was as mad as this in all my +life before!”</p> + +<p>She sighed.</p> + +<p>“I don’t mind anything,” she said sadly.</p> + +<p>“You ought to mind getting to Zurich at eight o’clock instead of +half-past two; there’s quite a little difference.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t mind,” she repeated.</p> + +<p>“Well, I do,” said Jack. After a pause of stormy thought he unclenched +his fist and said, “I bet I get even for this some day, but just at +present I think that I’ll go to sleep again.”</p> + +<p>Which he did forthwith.</p> + +<p>About noon they came to Lindau on the Bodensee. Rosina shivered and felt +sick, because Constance lay upon the further side. The train did not run +beyond Lindau and a change was necessary. The change revealed the fact +that there was a custom-house at that point. An unexpected custom-house +is one of the worst features<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[308]</a></span> of continental travel; but the officials +of Lindau were delightful, drew chalk circles on everything, and sent +every one upon their way rejoicing. Our party went around the little +station and were halted by a guard with the common greeting:</p> + +<p>“<em>Wo fahren Sie hin?</em>”</p> + +<p>“Zurich,” Jack answered, hauling out his tickets.</p> + +<p>“<em>Fahren Sie mit Bahn oder fahren Sie mit Schiff?</em>”</p> + +<p>Jack looked nonplussed.</p> + +<p>“Which are the tickets for?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“Either.”</p> + +<p>He turned to where Rosina waited, her eyes gazing in the direction of +Constance.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Rosina,” he called out, “do you want to <em>fahr</em> from here on <em>mit</em> +the <em>Bahn</em> or the <em>Schiff</em>?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t care,” she replied.</p> + +<p>“What’s the difference, anyhow?” he asked the man.</p> + +<p>“With the boat you do not connect with the train on the other shore,” he +was told.</p> + +<p>“You don’t, eh? Well, I’m very anxious to make that train upon the other +shore, so I think we’ll <em>fahr</em> right along <em>mit</em> the <em>Bahn</em>. Come on!” +he called again to his cousin, “we must get aboard.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[309])</a></span>They went slowly along the platform to the train gate.</p> + +<p>“They call Lindau the German Venice,” he said, as they waited to pass +the gate, “but I don’t think that it looks very Venetian; do you?”</p> + +<p>She choked, because Venice began with V, and felt herself quite unable +to frame an answer to his question.</p> + +<p>As every one but themselves seemed to have elected for the “Schiff,” +they found an entire wagon empty and spread their luggage out well. Jack +even went so far as to establish himself in solitary state in an +adjoining compartment, to the end that he might consider the proposition +of more sleep. Before the train was well under way the guard came +through, and past experience led Rosina to call through the connecting +door:</p> + +<p>“Do ask him if we must change again.”</p> + +<p>“Do we change again?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“<em>Wo fahren Sie hin?</em>”</p> + +<p>“Zurich.”</p> + +<p>“You must change in Bregenz.”</p> + +<p>“We must change in Bregenz,” Jack called out.</p> + +<p>By that time the German Venice was well behind, and the train was +skirting the southern shore of the Bodensee. The sun was shining on the +waves, and the woods upon the banks were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[310]</a></span> spattered with red and yellow. +And off to the north Constance was lying. Ah, Constance—the +Stadtgarten—Huss’ Tower—the “Souvenir” of Vieuxtemps!</p> + +<p>Rosina wept afresh.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Ottillie,” she sobbed, forlornly, “<em>que je suis malheureuse +aujourd’hui</em>!”</p> + +<p>Ottillie opened her little bag and handed her mistress another fresh +handkerchief; it was the only way in which she could testify to her +devotion upon this especial day.</p> + +<p>At Bregenz they descended, with the aid of a porter, at about half-past +two. As they left the train it was borne in upon them that this change +was not a change at all, but just another custom-house.</p> + +<p>“What strange country have we run up against, I’d like to know!” Jack +asked in amazement; and then the black cocks’ plumes in the <em>casquette</em> +of the <em>douanier</em> revealed the information that he craved.</p> + +<p>“How does Austria get to the Bodensee?” Rosina begged to know, having +seen the cocks’ plumes as quickly as he had.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know,” replied Jack, not at all pleased at the discovery as to +where they were. “It does seem as if every country in Europe has a +finger in this lake, though; or, if they haven’t, they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[311]</a></span> keep a +custom-house open on it just as a side line to their regular business.”</p> + +<p>The porter led them into the great wooden shed, where some unplaned +boards laid across boxes served as counters, Bregenz being in the throes +of the erection of a new station.</p> + +<p>“I bet they make it plain whether its <em>kronen</em> or <em>gulden</em>,” said +Rosina’s cousin as he threw his valise on top of the porter’s small +mountain; “if I’d known that I was to come in connection with that vile +money system again I’d have <em>schiffed</em> it across the lake or walked +around the northern shore before I’d ever have come this route.”</p> + +<p>By this remark he testified to a keen recollection of his Viennese +experiences and the double dealing (no pun intended) of the Austrian +shopkeeper just at the present epoch in the national finance system of +that country.</p> + +<p>Behind the boards two uniformed officials paced up and down, and when +all was neatly ranged before them the one bestowed his attention upon +Rosina while the other turned his in among the infinity of boxes +belonging to her party. He peeped into two or three of the valises and +chalked them and all of their kind; then he demanded the opening of the +largest dress-box. Ottillie unstrapped it and undertook to satisfy his +curiosity to the fullest possible extent.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[312]</a></span>The object uppermost of all was a Russian leather writing-tablet. The +official leapt upon that at once.</p> + +<p>“On this you must pay thirty <em>centimes</em>,” he declared, grabbing it up.</p> + +<p>“<em>Warum?</em>” said Jack. He found “<em>warum</em>” the most useful word in his +German vocabulary, because by the very nature of things it always threw +the burden of the conversation on to the shoulders of the other party.</p> + +<p>“You cannot pretend that it is an article of wearing apparel for +madame,” said the officer archly.</p> + +<p>“I never said that it was an article of wearing apparel for any one,” +Jack retorted hotly; “I asked why I had to pay thirty <em>centimes</em> on it. +It isn’t new and it isn’t dutiable, and I know that, and you know it +too.”</p> + +<p>“What is it, anyhow?” asked the man.</p> + +<p>“It’s to write on.”</p> + +<p>“Why does not madame write on paper, like everybody else?” inquired the +witty fellow.</p> + +<p>“There’s your six cents,” said Jack, in great disgust; “I reckon you +take <em>pfennigs</em>, don’t you?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes,” said the Austrian, “we take everything.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” replied the American, “so I observed in Vienna.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[313])</a></span>Then he turned away and the porter loaded up again.</p> + +<p>They went out on the platform and were told that the train had just +gone.</p> + +<p>“<em>Wo fahren Sie hin?</em>” asked the guard, taking pity on their +consternation at being left high and dry so unexpectedly.</p> + +<p>“Zurich.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, then that wasn’t your train anyway; that train went to Rorshack. +You take the Zurichbahn at half-past three.”</p> + +<p>There was three-quarters of an hour to wait.</p> + +<p>“Do you suppose that there is anything worth seeing in Bregenz?” the man +of the party suggested.</p> + +<p>“I don’t want to see it if there is,” his cousin replied.</p> + +<p>“Well, I do want to see it, even if there isn’t,” he answered; “you and +Ottillie can go into the waiting-room and I’ll be back in half an hour.”</p> + +<p>So he went off whistling, his ulster floating serenely around him. +Rosina established herself in a boarded-off angle which under existing +circumstances was dignified by the title of “Warte-Saal,” and every nail +that was driven into the new Gare of Bregenz pierced her aching heart +and echoed in her aching head.</p> + +<p>After the lapse of half an hour Jack turned up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[314]</a></span> again, having thoroughly +exhausted Bregenz and purchased a new cane most ingeniously carved with +bears’ heads and paws interlaced.</p> + +<p>He was not overpleased to be informed that the Zurichbahn was late, and +that there was no probability of their leaving the dominions of Francis +Joseph before four o’clock at the earliest.</p> + +<p>“It’s an awful shame the way this world is put on,” he said, yawning and +walking up and down; “it would be Paradise to Von Ibn to have the right +to cart you and your bags around, and it’s h—l for me, and I’ve got it +to do notwithstanding.”</p> + +<p>“I never sent for you to take me home,” Rosina said in an outraged tone.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I wasn’t blaming you,” he declared amicably.</p> + +<p>“Oh,” she said coldly, “I thought that you were.”</p> + +<p>The Zurichbahn was very late, and did not put in an appearance until +half-past four. Then they went aboard with a tired feeling that would +have done credit to an arrival in Seattle from New York.</p> + +<p>“Do we change again?” Rosina asked with latent sarcasm, when the guard +(a handsome guard, worthy to have been a first lieutenant at the very +least) came through to tear some pages out of their little books.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[315]</a></span>“<em>Wo fahren Sie hin?</em>” he asked, with a beaming smile.</p> + +<p>“Zurich,” Jack sung out, with renewed vigor.</p> + +<p>The guard opened the door leading into the next compartment, and then, +when his exit was assured, he told them:</p> + +<p>“Must in St. Margarethen change,” and vanished.</p> + +<p>“He knows the time for disappearing, evidently,” Jack said; “I bet +somebody that felt as I do threw him out of the window when he said that +once. And I have a first-class notion of getting down and taking the +next train straight back to Munich for the express purpose of murdering +that fellow that started us out this morning.”</p> + +<p>Rosina felt a deep satisfaction that none of his heat could be charged +up to her; <em>she</em> had offered no advice as to this unlucky day. She sat +there silent, her eyes turned upon the last view of the Bodensee, and +after some varied and picturesque swearing her cousin laid down and went +to sleep again.</p> + +<p>They arrived in St. Margarethen about half-past five, and night, a damp, +chill night, was falling fast. The instant that the train halted a guard +rushed in upon them.</p> + +<p>“<em>Wo fahren Sie hin?</em>” he cried, breathlessly.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[316])</a></span>“Zurich, d—— you!” Jack howled. He was making too small a shawl-strap +meet around too large a rug for the fifth time that day, and the last +remnant of his patience had fled.</p> + +<p>“Must be very quick; no time to lose,” said the man and hurried away.</p> + +<p>That he spoke a deep and underlying truth was evidenced by the mad rush +of passengers and porters which immediately ensued. They joined the +crowd and found themselves speedily flung in some shape into Zurichbahn +No. II., which moved out of the station at once.</p> + +<p>Jack was too saturated with sleep to be able to try any more. He went +through to the smoker’s compartment, and Rosina looked apathetically out +upon the Lake of Zurich and reflected her same reflections over again +and again. The moon, which had looked down upon the Isar rapids, rode +amidst masses of storm clouds above the dark sheet of water, and +illuminated with its fitful light the shadows that lay upon the bosom of +the waves. She felt how infinitely darker were the shadows within her +own bosom, and how vain it was to seek for any moon among her personal +clouds.</p> + +<p>“It’s a terrible thing to have been married,” she thought bitterly. +“Before you’ve been married you’re so ready to be married to any one,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[317]</a></span> +and after you’ve been married you don’t dare marry any one.” Then she +took out her handkerchief and wiped her eyes. “Oh, dear,” she sobbed, +“it doesn’t seem as if I could possibly be more wretched with him than I +am without him!”</p> + +<p>They reached Zurich in the neighborhood of nine o’clock. The end of a +trip always brings a certain sense of relief to the head of the party, +and Jack’s spirits rose prodigiously as he got them all into a cab.</p> + +<p>“We’ll get something to eat that’s good,” he declared gayly, “and then +to-morrow, after a first-class night’s sleep, we’ll go over the +Gotthard, and be in Milan Monday. And then, ho for Genoa, Gibraltar, and +joy everlasting!”</p> + +<p>He seized Rosina’s hand and gave it a hard squeeze.</p> + +<p>“Cheer up, you poor dear!” he cried; “you’ll come out all right in the +end,—now you see!”</p> + +<p>She pressed her lips tightly together and did not trust herself to say +one word in reply.</p> + +<p>She felt that she was beginning to really hate her cousin.</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[318]</a></span>Chapter Fifteen</h2> + + +<p class="cap">THEY stood at the summit of that double flight of marble steps which run +up the right-hand side of the Milan Cathedral’s roof and down the left. +There are one hundred steps on either side, and having just mounted the +right-hand hundred Rosina looked down the left-hand hundred with an +affright born of appreciative understanding.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Jack,” she cried, “I never shall get down from here alive! What did +you ever bring me up for?”</p> + +<p>“I brought you up to talk,” said her cousin. “Come over here, and sit +down on the ridge-pole beside me.”</p> + +<p>The ridge-pole of the Milan Cathedral is of white marble, like all the +rest of the edifice; it is wide and flat, and just the height for a +comfortable seat.</p> + +<p>The cousins placed themselves side by side thereon, and Jack lit a +cigarette while he deliberated on just how he should proceed with the +case in hand.</p> + +<div class="link"><a name="want" id="want"> </a></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 391px;"> +<img src="images/gs04.jpg" class="jpg" width="391" height="600" alt="" title="" /><br /> +<span class="caption">“‘I want you to pay a lot of attention to what I am +going to say, Rosina’”</span> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[319]</a></span>“Well,” he said at last, folding his arms, clearing his throat, crossing +his legs, and in other ways testifying to the solemnity of what was +forthcoming, “I want you to pay a lot of attention to what I’m going to +say, Rosina, for I’m going to talk to you very seriously, and you must +weigh my words well, for once let us get out to sea next week and it +will be too late to ever take any back tacks as to this matter.”</p> + +<p>She turned her sad eyes towards him; she was looking pale and tired, but +not cross or impatient.</p> + +<p>“Go on,” she said quietly.</p> + +<p>“It’s just this: it’s four days now since we left Munich, and I can see +that your spirits aren’t picking up any; instead, you seem more utterly +done up every day. So I’ve made up my mind to give you one more chance. +It’s this way: you know we’re all awfully fond of you and proud of you +and all that, but you know too that no one can ever make you out or +manage you—unless it’s me,” he added parenthetically; “and you always +do what you please, and you always will do what you please, and the +family share in the game generally consists in having to get you out of +the messes that your own folly gets you into. You didn’t need to marry, +you know, but you just would do it in spite of anything that any one +could say, and all we could do was to be sorry for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[320]</a></span> it, and sorry for +you when you were unhappy, as we all knew that you would be beforehand. +And that was the one mess that no one could get you out of. Well, then +he died, and you had another show.” Jack paused and jarred his cigarette +ash off with his finger-tip. “You know and I know just who there was +waiting there at home, but you elected to turn them all down and come +over here to travel around alone. And that was all right as long as you +stayed alone, but terribly risky when,—well, when that letter was +written in Zurich—”</p> + +<p>“Ah,” she cried sharply, “then it <em>was</em> from Zurich!”</p> + +<p>“Yes, it was from Zurich,” he replied indifferently; “and it was +perfectly natural under the circumstances that the letter should have +been written. The letter was straightforward enough, only, of course, it +necessitated Uncle John’s sending me over to—”</p> + +<p>“But I hadn’t known him but three days then,” she interrupted.</p> + +<p>“That wasn’t making any difference to him, evidently. And so I came over +and looked up everything; and I even did more, I came there to Munich +and went off with him on that trip so as to learn just everything that +it was possible to learn, and it all comes to just what I’ve told<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[321]</a></span> you +before: if you want to marry him, you can; if you don’t want to marry +him, you needn’t; but for Heaven’s sake why do you persist in refusing +him if it uses you up so awfully?”</p> + +<p>Her mouth quivered and her eyes filled slowly.</p> + +<p>“Have you been flirting?” he asked, with a very real kindness veiled in +his voice, “or do you really love him?”</p> + +<p>She lifted her wet eyes to his.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know,” she said, with simple sincerity; and after a minute she +added, “But I can’t make up my mind to marry just for the sake of +finding out.”</p> + +<p>Jack whistled softly.</p> + +<p>“So that’s it!” he said at last.</p> + +<p>They remained sitting quietly side by side for two or three minutes, and +then he spoke again; his voice was gentle, but firm and resolved, and +there was a sort of finality about his words which clinched into her +heart like an ice-grip.</p> + +<p>“Then the best thing to do is just what we’re doing; I know that you +wanted to stay and see more of him, but, feeling as you do, that +wouldn’t have been right to him or to yourself either. It seems tough on +you, but you’ll get over it in a few months, and if it comes to a +funeral for Von Ibn—why, it isn’t our funeral, anyway!”</p> + +<p>He stood up as he spoke, and smiled and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[322]</a></span> held out his hand to her. She +rose, feeling as if some fearful ultimatum had been proclaimed above her +head.</p> + +<p>“It’s sort of hard, you know,” Jack said, as he assisted her carefully +down the steep steps; “it’s <em>awful</em> hard to travel with you and have you +never smile and never say anything, and not be able to explain that you +feel bad because you won’t marry a man who wants you and whom you want.”</p> + +<p>“I married just such a man once upon a time,” she replied sadly.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Jack; “but I didn’t like that man, and I do like Von Ibn.”</p> + +<p>She drew a quick breath.</p> + +<p>From the cathedral they returned directly to the hotel.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[323]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2>Chapter Sixteen</h2> + + +<p class="cap">IT was Genoa.</p> + +<p>The end of all was at hand.</p> + +<p>Rosina recollected the careless, callous manner with which in earlier, +happier days she had spoken of this fated spot.</p> + +<p>“Are you going home by the Southern Route?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, we sail from Genoa;” or, “Do you leave at Naples?” “Oh, no, it’s +Monte Carlo this time, so we shall get off at Genoa.”</p> + +<p>Genoa!</p> + +<p>Once she had thought its blue mountain masses most sublimely beautiful, +now anything with hollows and shadows reminded her of those two +misery-circled eyes, and she was led to wonder afresh if he, or she, +would ever recover.</p> + +<p>It is always astonishing how the port from which we sail partakes of our +sailing sentiments. It’s a “jolly good place” or a “dull old hole,” just +according to who is on the deck or who is on the dock. Handkerchiefs +flutter gayly in the stolid face of Hoboken every day of the year, and +many beside Marie Stuart have wept themselves out of sight of sunny +France. It isn’t<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[324]</a></span> the place that counts when the anchor goes down or up, +it’s the Who and the When; and in view of what has filled all the +foregoing pages I trust that the reader will sympathize with Rosina and +pardon my slang if I state that Genoa appeared to her upon this occasion +very much more rocky than ever before.</p> + +<p>Their arrival had not been auspicious, to begin with. The cab on its +narrow way hotel-ward had collided energetically with another cab and +had a wheel taken off. Jack was on the high side, and Rosina was only +too anxious to have anything happen to her; but Ottillie, who had +narrowly escaped being pitched out on her head, was quite perturbed, and +feared that the accident was a bad omen for the voyage.</p> + +<p>The following morning Rosina saw her cousin leave for the inevitable +visit to Fratelli’s, and when he was safely out of the way she put on a +walking-suit, veiled herself thickly, and, taking a carriage, went all +alone to that grand eastern sweep of boulevard whose panorama of sea and +city is so beyond the language of any pen to portray. At the summit she +dismissed the carriage, and rested there alone, leaning against the iron +balustrade, her eyes turned afar, her bosom riven by emotions as +limitless as the horizon that lay before her. A sailing-vessel was +spreading<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[325]</a></span> its wings for an Egyptian flight; in the port to her right +the great white ocean liner was loading her cargo; overhead the gulls +whirled, shrieking. But to all she was blind, deaf, unwitting.</p> + +<p>For with the conversation upon the ridge-pole of the Milan Cathedral +life had seemed to close for her. The finality of Jack’s ruling had +barred the future out of her present forever. There is no more +unmitigated grief for a woman than to be chained to the consequences +begotten of her own way, and to have her judgment taken seriously and +acted upon, to the end that all possible chance of change is swept +forever beyond the reach of her will.</p> + +<p>She hung there against the cold iron and knew no tears, because her +wretchedness had outstripped their solace.</p> + +<p>Her reasons had reached the pass where they craved to be overruled, and +no one was going to overrule them. She did not state the facts to +herself in so many words, but she felt her helplessness and moaned her +pain.</p> + +<p>Oh, that pain! the pain of one who sees the light too late, who divines +the sun only by the splendor of the glow which it has left behind. What +memories they hold to torture everlastingly! What reveries they nurse +from thence on evermore!</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[326]</a></span>If only more had been said, or less! If only more had been denied, or +granted! There is forever imprinted on the brain some one especial look +which time can never dim—some special word whose burden nor sleep nor +wake will lighten.</p> + +<p>There, at her feet, the Isar rushed, and through the myriad murmur of +its rapids his voice came back to her. “<em>Tout est fini</em>,—all is +finished!” he had said, with that enveloping mist of melancholy in which +his spirit shrouded itself so easily. And then a wax taper flashed +before the blackness that sheathed her vision, and she looked in +heart-quivering agony upon the dumb appeal of those great, brown eyes, +with their shadows doubled by the torturing of the hour.</p> + +<p>“He felt perhaps as I feel now,” she thought, pressing her hand against +her bosom; “I didn’t know then—I didn’t know!”</p> + +<p>She turned to walk along the cliff.</p> + +<p>“If I was sure,” she told herself, “I think that I would—” but there +she paused, shuddered violently, and left the phrase unfinished.</p> + +<p>At luncheon Jack was uncommonly cheerful. He asked her if she didn’t +want to go to Nice and spend one of the two days before their departure. +She shook her head.</p> + +<p>“But why don’t you go?” she said; “you could just as well as not.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[327]</a></span>“I don’t know but that I will,” he replied; “only I hate to leave you +here alone.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I’ll do very well,” she assured him, smiling.</p> + +<p>About four that afternoon he came into her room, where she was lying in +a reclining-chair by the window, looking listlessly out and dreaming of +Munich. He stood before her for a long time, contemplating her and the +gown of lace and silk which foamed about her throat and arms, and then +cascaded down to spread in billows on the floor.</p> + +<p>“I declare,” he said suddenly, “it seems wasteful somehow for you to +dress like that just to sit here alone.”</p> + +<p>Her mouth curved a little.</p> + +<p>“Is that a night-dress?” he inquired curiously.</p> + +<p>“No, cousin, it’s a tea-gown.”</p> + +<p>“Oh!”</p> + +<p>He stood still beside her.</p> + +<p>“They told me a funny thing at the steamship office this morning,” he +said, after a while; “the man says that there’s never a steamer sails +but that some one who has made their last payment down is obliged for +some reason to stay behind.”</p> + +<p>“Do they give them back their money?” she asked, trying to appear +interested.</p> + +<p>“Yes; and they always fill the room either at Naples or Gibraltar.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[328])</a></span>And still he stood there.</p> + +<p>“Why don’t you sit down?” she asked at last.</p> + +<p>“Where’s Ottillie?” he said, without seeming to notice her question.</p> + +<p>“I’ve sent her out to do some errands. Why, do you want anything done?”</p> + +<p>“No;” he leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I do love you, Rosina,” he +added, half joking, half serious; “I wonder what sort of a show I’d have +had if I’d tried—ever?”</p> + +<p>She shrank from him with a quick breath.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Jack, I beg of you, don’t tease me these days.”</p> + +<p>He straightened up and laughed, taking out his watch.</p> + +<p>“It’s quarter after four,” he said, reflecting. “The mail must be in; +I’ll see if there are any letters,” and he went out.</p> + +<p>She remained by the window, twirling the shade-tassel with her idle +fingers, and seeing, not the rattle and clatter of Italian street-life, +but the great space of the Maximilian-Joseph Platz, with the doves +pattering placidly over the white and black pattern of its pavement, and +the Maximiliansstrasse stretching before her with the open arches of the +Maximilianeum closing its long vista at the further end....</p> + +<p>Quick steps in the hall broke in upon her day<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[329]</a></span> dream, and her cousin +re-entered, an open letter in his hand and his face curiously drawn. He +gave her one strange look and halted.</p> + +<p>“What has happened?” she asked hastily and anxiously.</p> + +<p>He went to the window and looked out, so that his back was turned +towards her and his face concealed from her view.</p> + +<p>“I’ve just heard from Von Ibn,” he said briefly.</p> + +<p>“Is that letter from him?”</p> + +<p>“No; he’s not writing any letters these days.”</p> + +<p>“Oh—” she began, and then stopped.</p> + +<p>He kept his back towards her, and then, after a short pause:</p> + +<p>“He’s going all to pieces,” he said in a low tone, very slowly.</p> + +<p>“Oh—” she exclaimed again, and again stopped.</p> + +<p>“I reckon he’s pretty badly off; he’s got beyond himself. He’s—well, +he’s—. Rosina, the long and short of it is, he’s gone crazy!”</p> + +<p>She rose slowly out of her seat, her face deadly white, her finger-nails +turned cruelly into her palms.</p> + +<p>“Jack!” she stammered; “Jack!”</p> + +<p>He continued to look from the window.</p> + +<p>“I knew he’d take it awfully hard,” he said,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[330]</a></span> in a voice that sounded +strained, “but I didn’t think he’d give up so completely; he’s—”</p> + +<p>Then she screamed, reaching forth and touching his hand.</p> + +<p>“You’re not breaking it to me that he’s dead! You’re not telling me that +he’s dead!”</p> + +<p>He turned from the window at that, and was shocked at her face and the +way that her hands were twisting.</p> + +<p>“I know he’s dead!” she screamed again, and he sprang forward and caught +her in his arms as she sank down there at his knees.</p> + +<p>“He is <em>not</em> dead!” he told her forcefully; “honestly, he is <em>not</em> dead! +But he’s in a bad way, and with it all just as it is, I don’t know what +to do about you. If you don’t care, why, as I said before, it’s not our +funeral; but if you do care, I—well, I—”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Jack, can I go to him? I must go to him! Can’t you take me to him?”</p> + +<p>She writhed in his arms as if she also was become a maniac.</p> + +<p>“Do you really want to go to him? Do you know what that means? It means +no more backing out, now or never.”</p> + +<p>“I know, I understand, I’m willing! Only hurry! only telegraph that I +will come! only—” she began to choke.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[331]</a></span>“I’ll tell you,” said he, putting her into the big chair again; “you +shall go to him. Stay there a minute and I’ll get my railway guides and +look it up right away. Collect yourself, be a good girl!”</p> + +<p>He went out, and she folded her hands and prayed wildly:</p> + +<p>“God, let him live! God, take me to him!” over and over again.</p> + +<p>And then her impatience stretched the seconds into minutes, and she +sought her cousin’s room, which was just across the hall from the suite +given to herself.</p> + +<p>She flung the door open without knocking and entered precipitately, +expecting to find Jack and the railway guides. But Jack was not there.</p> + +<p>There <em>was</em> a man there, sitting by the window, twisting his moustache +and biting his lips in raging impatience. To this man Jack had said +three minutes before, “She’ll be in here in less than sixty seconds. I’m +going to the steamship office,” and then the man had been left to wait, +and his was not a patient disposition....</p> + +<p>A tall man, a dark man, a man whose hair lay in loose, damp, wavy locks +above his high forehead; a man whose eyes were heavy-circled underneath, +and whose long, white hands beat nervously upon the chair-arms.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[332])</a></span>At the sound of the opening door the man looked up. She was there, +staring as if petrified, by the door.</p> + +<p>He made one bound. She was within his arms.</p> + +<p>“<em>Alors tu m’aimes!</em>” he cried, and something mutual swallowed her reply +and the consciousness of both for one long heaven-rifting minute.</p> + +<p>“<em>Alors tu m’aimes?</em>” he said again, with a great quivering breath; “<em>tu +m’aimes, n’est-ce pas?</em>”</p> + +<p>“With my whole heart and soul and life,” she confessed.</p> + +<p>And then he kissed her hastily, hungrily, murmuring:</p> + +<p>“<em>Ma cherie!</em> my angel, mine, mine!”</p> + +<p>She cried a little and laughed a little, looked up a little and looked +down a little, tried to draw away from him and found herself drawn yet +nearer; was kissed, and kissed him; was looked upon and returned the +look; felt the strength of his love and felt the strength of her own; +feeling at last that the wavelets of Lucerne which had splashed softly +up against the stones at Zurich, and murmured in her ears at Constance, +had been swelled by the current of the Isar into a mighty resistless +storm that here, this day, upon the rocky coast of the Mediterranean, +had come resistlessly roaring upwards, and, sweeping away all barriers, +carried<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[333]</a></span> her heart and her life out into its bottomless depths +forevermore.</p> + +<p>“<em>Attends!</em>” he said, after a minute, loosing her suddenly to the end +that he might turn the key in Jack’s door; then he took her by the hand +and led her to the chair where he had been sitting. It was one of those +vast and luxurious <em>fauteuils</em> which have prevented the Old World from +ever importing the rocker. He installed her in its depth and placed +himself upon the broad and cushioned arm.</p> + +<p>“<em>Mon Dieu, que je suis heureux!</em>” he said, smiling down into her eyes; +“<em>alors tu m’aimes vraiment</em>?”</p> + +<p>“Jack told me that you were terribly ill,” she said, her eyes resting +upon his face with a sort of overwhelming content.</p> + +<p>“And you have care?”</p> + +<p>“I thought that I should lose my mind!”</p> + +<p>“<em>Ma cherie!</em>”</p> + +<p>“But you really look as if you had been ill?”</p> + +<p>“Not ill, but most <em>malheureux</em>. It has not been easy always to wait and +believe that you shall love me yet.”</p> + +<p>“But you always did believe it?”</p> + +<p>He smiled his irresistible smile of eyes and lip.</p> + +<p>“Your cousin has said to me in Tagernsee, ‘She will certainly marry you +because she declares<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[334]</a></span> that she will not, and she always does do exactly +<em>le contraire</em>;’ but, <em>Mon Dieu</em>, how could I trust to that?”</p> + +<p>Rosina laughed ringingly.</p> + +<p>“Dear Jack! I wish that I had known myself as well as he knows me.”</p> + +<p>“He has been very good to me,” said Von Ibn, leaning above her and +breaking his sentences in a manner that was perhaps only natural, all +things considered; “he has kept me from—the real madness. But for him I +was quite willing to shoot myself. It has never been anything so +terrible for me as—when you enter the door of the <em>pension</em> that night +and shut it between us.”</p> + +<p>She lifted up her hand and closed his big eyes with its soft touch.</p> + +<p>“I loved you in Lucerne,” she declared to his blindness, “that first +moment when I saw you walking on the Quai. I did not know why, but I +felt that I <em>must</em> know you.”</p> + +<p>He snatched her hand away and laughed.</p> + +<p>“<em>Voilà!</em>” he exclaimed; “what have I say to you that time in Munich, +that the women are always <em>gênées</em>! You love in Lucerne, and insist not +for all the summer after.”</p> + +<p>Then they laughed together.</p> + +<p>“Would you have liked me to have told you there on the Quai? would you +have believed it?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[335])</a></span>“Yes,” he said gravely; “I would have believed it very well, because I +also knew the same. In the hotel I had seen you, and on the Promenade I +said myself, ‘<em>Voilà la jolie Américaine encore une fois!</em>’ You see!”</p> + +<p>She wondered how she had ever for a moment thought that his eyes were +melancholy, they appeared so big and bright and joyous now.</p> + +<p>“When did you come?” she remembered to ask after a long time.</p> + +<p>“I am come yesterday morning.”</p> + +<p>“Before we did?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes; because I have very much here to do.”</p> + +<p>“In Genoa?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; and Jack and I have been out all this morning also.”</p> + +<p>“And I never knew!”</p> + +<p>He looked a little uneasy and rose to his feet.</p> + +<p>“There is something very serious that I must say,” he said, standing +before her.</p> + +<p>She looked up in a little anxiety; a crowd of ordinary, every-day +thoughts suddenly swarmed into her mind.</p> + +<p>“Do not be <em>gênée</em>!” he implored parenthetically; “what I have to say is +so most important.”</p> + +<p>“I am not <em>gênée</em>,” she assured him.</p> + +<p>“Then why do you not come and stand by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[336]</a></span> me?” he asked. “If you love me +and will not show it, I am to be very unhappy always.”</p> + +<p>Rosina laughed; but she stood up and went close to him at once.</p> + +<p>“I do love you,” she said, “and I am not at all afraid to show it. You +see!”</p> + +<p>He took her face between his hands and gazed down fondly upon her.</p> + +<p>“Love is good, is it not?” he said. “There is a great joy to me to hold +you so, and reflect upon those stairs at Munich.”</p> + +<p>He paused—perhaps in consideration of the Munichian stairs—for a +moment, and then said:</p> + +<p>“I have heard that there is love so strong that it crushes; if I ever +take hold of you so that your bones break, it is only that I think of +the stairs in Munich.”</p> + +<p>She laughed again.</p> + +<p>“I will remember,” she said, not at all frightened.</p> + +<p>He took her two hands tightly within his own.</p> + +<p>“I must now say that very serious thing.”</p> + +<p>“But I shall not run away.”</p> + +<p>“No, but you may be surprised and unarrange yourself before I can hold +you to stop.”</p> + +<p>“Go on,” she begged.</p> + +<p>“It is this: Jack and I have been out all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[337]</a></span> this morning, because all +must be very ready; I—” he stopped.</p> + +<p>“You are going with us?” she exclaimed joyously.</p> + +<p>“No; I—”</p> + +<p>“You are not going before we do?”</p> + +<p>He smiled and shook his head.</p> + +<p>Then he drew her very closely and tenderly to him and kissed her eyes +and forehead.</p> + +<p>“It is that I am to be married to-morrow,” he told her softly, and held +her tightly as the shock of his words ran quivering through her.</p> + +<p>“And I!” she gasped, after two or three paralyzed seconds.</p> + +<p>“Naturally you are to be married also.”</p> + +<p>She stared mutely up into the reassurance of his smile.</p> + +<p>“Jack and I find that best,” he said. “I have no time to go to America +to bring you again, and all is quite good arranged. I have telegraphed +to Dresden about a larger apartment, and those papers from the lawyers +in New York waited here when you came. We may not marry like peasants, +you and I, you know.”</p> + +<p>She felt completely overcome.</p> + +<p>“<em>To-morrow!</em>” she said, at last.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” he said placidly; “I am much hasted to be again in the north, and +we have arranged<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[338]</a></span> with the consuls—your consul and my consul—for +to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>“But my steamer passage!”</p> + +<p>“Oh, that your cousin has given up; all the money has been returned. I +think for a little that we will go with him as far as Naples, but I go +and look at your stateroom this morning, and I have just a <em>centimétre</em> +more than the berth.”</p> + +<p>Rosina was forced to laugh; her humor began to bubble riotously upwards +at the notion of Von Ibn and Jack measuring the berth that morning. He +did not know why she laughed, but he kissed her without caring.</p> + +<p>“For me there is no comfort under two <em>métres</em>,” he declared vigorously.</p> + +<p>Just then the owner of the room tried the door.</p> + +<p>“This is my room,” he called through the crack.</p> + +<p>They looked at each other, and she ran lightly to the door, unlocked it +and let her cousin enter.</p> + +<p>“You fearful liar!” she exclaimed, as he put his arm about her, and held +out the spare hand to her lover. “Oh, Jack, you awful, <em>awful</em> liar, +what shall I say to you?”</p> + +<p>“Say to him that you are most happy,” her lover suggested.</p> + +<p>Jack was beaming.</p> + +<p>“I never said a word that wasn’t true,” he declared.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[339]</a></span> “You asked me if +the letter was from him, and I said that he wasn’t writing any letters +these days, and then I said that he was going crazy.”</p> + +<p>“And that was most true,” the other man broke in; “I have no manner to +think left in my head these later nights.”</p> + +<p>“And you began to scream that you must go to him, and I told you that +you could go; and I see that you went.”</p> + +<p>Von Ibn crossed to the chimney-piece and picked up a cigarette and a +match. He was smiling to himself.</p> + +<p>“She consents to be married to-morrow,” he said, facing about.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Rosina airily; “I see that conventionality and I are to be +more two than ever henceforth, so I am going to yield up my own way at +once.”</p> + +<p>“You are a brave fellow,” Jack said to his friend; “I have always been +able to do more with her than any one else, but, honestly, I tell you +that I, even I, would never dare to undertake her forever.”</p> + +<p>Von Ibn lit his cigarette and laughed.</p> + +<p>“She will obey me,” he said easily; “she will have to. It will be a +great good for her. I shall be very tender with her and most severe, +that is what is best for a woman.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[340]</a></span>“Oh, Rosina!” said Jack, and in his tone resounded a succession of many +feelings each more indescribable than its predecessor.</p> + +<p>“It is not needful that you kiss her,” the lover went on, coming back +across the room; “I wish that you would not, that does me no pleasure to +watch.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t care anything about kissing her,” the cousin replied; “Rosina’s +novelty in kisses was over for me before I was five years old. Don’t you +remember—”</p> + +<p>Some one rapped at the door.</p> + +<p>“<em>Entrez!</em>” they cried in chorus.</p> + +<p>It was a <em>garçon</em> with a card.</p> + +<p>“‘Madame La Francesca,’” said Rosina, reading. “Who is Madame La +Francesca?”</p> + +<p>The two men exchanged glances.</p> + +<p>“Where is the lady?” Jack asked.</p> + +<p>“She is gone at once to madame’s room,” the boy replied.</p> + +<p>“You’d better go and see who’s in your room,” Jack suggested; “and you,” +he added, turning to her <em>fiancé</em>, “you must come with me and attend to +what yet remains to be done.”</p> + +<p>Rosina hesitated, her hand upon the door-knob.</p> + +<p>“I will come at once,” she told the boy, who was waiting, and then she +looked towards the man by the chimney-piece.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[341]</a></span>“Never mind me,” said her cousin kindly; “I’ll look out of the window, +if you wish.”</p> + +<p>Von Ibn threw his cigarette into the grate.</p> + +<p>“You need not look from the window,” he said, laughing; “you may look +straight to us, and see two most happy.”</p> + +<p>He put his hand on either side of her smile and took the smile to +himself. Then she went out.</p> + +<p>“I can’t tell you,” the American said warmly, “how glad I am for you +both. I do honestly think that she’ll make you very happy. And I hope +and pray that you’ll be good to her.”</p> + +<p>“I shall be good to her,” said his friend seriously; “I know her well. +She is very ‘<em>tendre</em>’ and I love her much; she will not have her own +will always, but with her love she will do mine. It is that that makes +the life so happy with us. We give much affection and little liberty; it +is not well for you, because with you all is so different. In America it +is all liberty, and no time for love.”</p> + +<p>“Maybe not,” said Jack carelessly; “but we make a lot of money all the +same.” He picked up his ulster with the deer-horn buttons. “You’re +coming, aren’t you?” he said.</p> + +<p>The other man sought an eminently correct overcoat and silk hat in the +adjoining room.</p> + +<p>“<em>Natürlich</em>,” he said, “you know that I am of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[342]</a></span> at any rate an equal +interest with you in what is to be to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>Jack laughed.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps if you knew your lady as well as I do—” he began, and then he +stopped.</p> + +<p>They went out to the staircase, and Von Ibn descended several steps in +advance. Jack contemplated his back, and his lips twitched with the +conquering of a rebellious smile.</p> + +<p>“So there walks the end of all,” he said to himself. “Who would have +thought it of Rosina! Poor girl, she is about over; in fact, I’m afraid +that, in the ordinary acceptation of the term, ‘Rosina’ has already +ceased to exist—knocked under for good, so to speak. Only to think of +that particular girl choosing a thorough-bred European husband with a +Tartar syllable in his name!” He paused and chuckled. “I’ve proved my +truth to Carter, anyhow. I told him that there was but one man in +America clever enough to marry my cousin, and now he’ll perceive that +that man’s brains so far surpass the brains of all others, that, +although capable of marrying her, he took precious good care to marry +her to another fellow. Well, if they’re happy they owe it all to me; and +if they’re miserable, they have no one but themselves to blame.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[343])</a></span>Von Ibn had paused at the foot of the stairs and now looked up, smiling, +into his friend’s eyes.</p> + +<p>“I am this day so greatly rejoiced,” he said earnestly, “what life is to +have for me, and for her, after this! You may not divine it, I think.”</p> + +<p>Jack looked into the warm and shining light of his uplifted face.</p> + +<p>“I hope you’ll both be just everlastingly happy,” he said sincerely.</p> + +<p>“But that is certain,” the lover said, in a tone of deep feeling. “Did +you look at her to-day? It is heaven she brings me with her. We were two +in the great world, and Lucerne brought us to one. Then love did all the +rest.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I say,” Jack remonstrated; “I certainly worked some too!”</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[344]</a></span>Chapter Seventeen</h2> + + +<p class="cap">WHEN Rosina opened her door it was Molly who stood there; a gorgeous +Molly, put forth by all that was uppermost in the Kärntnerstrasse of +that year.</p> + +<p>“Why, where ever did you come from?” she cried.</p> + +<p>“From Vienna,” said Molly; “from Vienna by way of Botzen and Venice.”</p> + +<p>“And Madame la Princesse?”</p> + +<p>“I’ve left her and qualified as a chaperone on my own hook.”</p> + +<p>“You’re with Madame—Madame—” Rosina looked down at the +<em>carte-de-visite</em> which she held in her fingers still.</p> + +<p>“I’m not with her; I’m <em>her</em>!”</p> + +<p>“You’re—”</p> + +<p>“Madame La Francesca.”</p> + +<p>“Molly, you’re not—”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I am.”</p> + +<p>“Not <em>married</em>?”</p> + +<p>The Irish girl, or rather the Italian lady, nodded.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[345]</a></span>“Why, Molly, however did you do it? you said he was too poor.”</p> + +<p>“He was too poor.”</p> + +<p>“And how—”</p> + +<p>Molly was pulling off her gloves and laughing.</p> + +<p>“My dear, this is another.”</p> + +<p>Rosina sank abruptly on the sofa.</p> + +<p>“’Tis a fact. I never told you a thing about him, but he’s as +handsome—wait!” She put her hand to her collar. “No getting them +tangled any more,” she said, smiling, as she felt for her chain. “I wear +only one now, but I wear that one night and day.”</p> + +<p>Rosina could do little else than gasp and stare.</p> + +<p>“But who is he?” she asked.</p> + +<p>“He’s the lieutenant’s colonel. He called on me to—Well, I do believe +I’ve left that locket on the washstand after all!”</p> + +<p>“Haven’t you got it on?”</p> + +<p>“No, I haven’t. And I meant to wear it forever.”</p> + +<p>“Never mind, go on about the colonel.”</p> + +<p>“I do hope he won’t find the locket, that’s all. He put it on me the day +we were married, and I promised to never unclasp it. Of course I never +thought of baths when I spoke.”</p> + +<p>“But do go on about how you came to—”</p> + +<p>“I didn’t come to any one; he came to me, to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[346]</a></span> beg me to give up the +lieutenant, who was taking to absinthe. My dear, you should just see the +man! (Oh, if I <em>only</em> had my locket!) All Italy can’t show such another! +I gave up the lieutenant that day and married the colonel just as fast +as was possible. That’s why I haven’t written you this last month.”</p> + +<p>“Is he rich?”</p> + +<p>“Well, not in pounds; but he’s a millionaire in these Italian <em>lire</em>. We +shall live like princes,—Italian princes, <em>bien entendu</em>.”</p> + +<p>“But when were you married?”</p> + +<p>“Day before yesterday; to-day’s the first time I’ve taken off the +locket.”</p> + +<p>“And where?”</p> + +<p>“In Venice. Oh, ’twas like heaven, being paddled to church.”</p> + +<p>“And now you’re—”</p> + +<p>“Signora La Francesca.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I declare!”</p> + +<p>Rosina leaned back, staring helplessly. Finally she said:</p> + +<p>“And how did you happen to come here?”</p> + +<p>“To your wedding. I hurried my own a little on that account.”</p> + +<p>“<em>Molly</em>, then you knew about me!”</p> + +<p>Molly swept down upon the sofa and folded her friend in her arms.</p> + +<p>“Knew about you! Why, my dear, I knew<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[347]</a></span> about you in Zurich. How could I +help it? How could any one help it?”</p> + +<p>“Why, Molly, was it as bad as that?”</p> + +<p>“Worse,” said the signora briefly.</p> + +<p>“But you never could have known that I would marry him in Genoa then?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no; of course I didn’t know about Genoa, I only knew you were bound +to marry him somewhere.”</p> + +<p>“When did you know about Genoa?”</p> + +<p>“Last week. Your cousin wrote me.”</p> + +<p>Rosina’s face was a study, but finally she began to laugh.</p> + +<p>“Molly, I have been tricked and deceived at every turn by those two men. +Just listen while I tell you all about it.”</p> + +<p>Molly listened and was told all about it, from the Isar to the +Mediterranean, the roof of Milan’s cathedral included.</p> + +<p>“You wouldn’t believe it, would you?” the heroine of all concluded when +she paused, altogether out of breath.</p> + +<p>“Yes, I would. Because really I never saw two people so tremendously in +love before.”</p> + +<p>“And you thought I—cared for him when we were there in Zurich?”</p> + +<p>“I didn’t think; I could see it with my eyes shut.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[348])</a></span>“Really?”</p> + +<p>“Sure! and as to him—” the signora shrugged her shoulders expressively.</p> + +<p>Rosina threw her arms around her and kissed her.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I am so delightfully glad to be so happy, and for you to be so +happy at the same time.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I like to be happy myself,” Molly confessed.</p> + +<p>“You <em>are</em> happy, aren’t you? You do like being married, don’t you?”</p> + +<p>“Pleasantest two days of my life,” declared the bride, with apparent +sincerity.</p> + +<p>“Do you think your husband is as good-looking as monsieur?”</p> + +<p>Molly started violently.</p> + +<p>“<em>As good-looking!</em> Why, my dear, didn’t I tell you that he was the—Oh, +if I <em>only</em> had my locket!”</p> + +<p>“Never mind,” Rosina said soothingly; “you can think he’s handsomest, if +you like, I don’t mind. At any rate, he isn’t a great musician.”</p> + +<p>“No,” said Molly proudly; “but he’s a colonel, and a colonel ranks a +genius anywhere, any day, in Europe.”</p> + +<p>“All right,” said the <em>fiancée</em> amicably; “but, dear, didn’t you think +that it was awful in Jack to tell me that he’d gone crazy, and frighten +me half to death?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[349])</a></span>“It must have been a terrible blow when you found that he hadn’t cared +enough to go crazy, after all.”</p> + +<p>“<em>Molly!</em>”</p> + +<p>“And however are you going to exist with the <em>‘tempérament jaloux</em>’?”</p> + +<p>“I never minded that a bit. Every time he is angry he is <em>so</em> adorable +afterwards. We shall have such lovely makings-up. Oh, I expect to just +revel in his rages!”</p> + +<p>Madame La Francesca’s dimples danced afresh.</p> + +<p>“And I,” she said, “I was raised with a hot-headed Irish father and four +hot-headed Irish brothers, and I’ve been engaged to one peppery +Scotchman and to frequent red-peppery continentals, so I find my ideal +in an Italian who is, as the French say, ‘<em>Doux comme un agneau.</em>’”</p> + +<p>“I thought it was ‘<em>Doux comme un mouton</em>,’” said Rosina cruelly, even +while she was conscious of a real and genuine pity for her friend, under +the circumstances.</p> + +<p>“No, it’s ‘<em>agneau</em>,’” the other replied placidly, and then she rose +and shook out her stunning blue grenadine self. “I must go. I’ve been +away a long time.”</p> + +<p>“You don’t get a bit tired of him, do you?”</p> + +<p>“Well, I haven’t yet.”</p> + +<p>“Isn’t it curious? I used to be so bored if I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[350]</a></span> had to talk to the same +man into the second hour, and then I never guessed what made me so +contented to walk around with this one forever and ever.”</p> + +<p>“But you know now?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I know now.”</p> + +<p>“I shall see you to-night,” Molly said, adjusting her hat before the +pier-glass; “your cousin is going to give an especially magnificent +dinner to just we five.”</p> + +<p>“I didn’t know that he was going to give a dinner,” Rosina exclaimed, +starting up affrightedly. “Why, all my trunks are down on the steamer!”</p> + +<p>“They aren’t now,” said Molly, “they’re in the next room; and your gown +is laid out on the bed, and on the table is a diamond star from your +cousin, and a bracelet from my beloved and myself, and a perfectly +ripping tiara from your beloved to yourself.”</p> + +<p>Rosina put two bewildered hands to her head.</p> + +<p>“Nobody tells me <em>anything</em>!” she wailed.</p> + +<p>“No,” said Molly mockingly; “you’re so set on having your own way that +it really seems wiser not to.”</p> + +<p>Then they threw their arms about one another, kissed, laughed, kissed +again, and parted.</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[351]</a></span>Chapter Eighteen</h2> + + +<p class="cap">IT was some ten or twelve days later, and the hour was half-past nine, +and the scene a private salon in the Schweizerhof at Lucerne. It was +early November, or very close upon it, and so a fire blazed on the +hearth, and the looped-back curtains at the windows showed only a +mirrored reflection of what was within. Beside the chimney-piece stood a +wee table with a coffee service upon it, and scattered on the floor +beside was a typical European mail,—letters, postals and papers galore; +the “Munchener Jugend,” the “Town Topics,” a “Punch,” a “Paris-Herald,” +the “Fliegender-Blätter,” three “Figaros,” and two “Petit-Journaux.” +There was a grand piano across one corner of the room, and the priceless +Stradivarius lay in its unlocked case beside it. Upon the music-rack was +spread “Le Souvenir” of Vieuxtemps, with directions in pencil dashed +across it here and there, and upward sweeps and great fortes and +pianissimos indicated by the hand that was never patient with life, but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[352]</a></span> +always positive in the painstaking of perfection as to its art.</p> + +<p>The artist himself lay in a deep chair before the fire, smoking and +dreaming in his old familiar way; his wife sat on the floor beside him, +her head leaning against the arm of his chair, her clasped hands hanging +about his knee, and in her eyes and on her lips there rested a charm of +utter joy as sweet as it was beautiful.</p> + +<p>They were so silent in the content of their mutual reverie that the call +of the cuckoo clock startled them both slightly. Von Ibn took his cigar +from between his lips and discovered that it had gone out some time +since. Rosina smiled at his face and extended her hand towards the +coffee table, on the side of which lay two or three wax matches.</p> + +<p>“No, no,” her husband cried quickly, “it is no need. I have quite +finish,” and he threw what remained of the cigar to the flames as he +spoke. “What have you think of?” he asked, as she laid her head back on +the chair-arm; “was it of a pleasant thing?”</p> + +<p>“I was thinking,” she said slowly, “of that man in Zurich, and wondering +when and where he would learn of our marriage.”</p> + +<p>“Who of Zurich?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[353])</a></span>“Surely you haven’t forgotten that man in Zurich that I went to the +Tonhalle with.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes,” he exclaimed quickly; “the one I did go to the Gare with.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, the one who wrote Uncle John about you.”</p> + +<p>“Did he write about me? What has that Zuricher man to say of me?”</p> + +<p>She rose to her feet and stood beside the fire, staring down into its +leaping blades of light and flame.</p> + +<p>“You know what he said as well as I do,—just everything that he could +to make trouble for you and me.”</p> + +<p>Then her wrath began to rise, as it always did when her mind recurred to +this particular subject.</p> + +<p>“What do you suppose made him bother to do such a mean thing? Why did he +want to make all that trouble for? Why couldn’t he stick to his own +business and let us alone? It is maddening to think of. I shall never +forgive him—never!”</p> + +<p>Von Ibn raised the heavy darkness of his eyes up to her profile, and a +dancing light passed over the unutterable tenderness that shadowed their +glow.</p> + +<p>“What trouble has he make?” he asked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[354]</a></span> gently; “why may you never forgive +him? Come to me, here upon my knee, and tell me of that.”</p> + +<p>He held out his hand, smiling, and she smiled too, and came to take her +place upon the seat which he had indicated to her.</p> + +<p>“He made all the trouble that he possibly could,” she said, touching his +hair here and there with a fanciful hand, while the expression of her +face indicated a conflict between the sentiments with which the man of +Zurich inspired her and those provoked by her hearer.</p> + +<p>“Ah, so,” said the latter; and then after a little he added, “But +because he writes, your cousin is caused to arrive, and of that arriving +we are become married. I see no trouble in that. <em>Au contraire</em>, I see +much good. If I think it were really that Zuricher man that has write to +America I should be most grateful of him. I think I should at once buy +him a cane as that one which I get myself this afternoon.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, it was he,” she said confidently; “Jack told me as much himself. I +asked him if the letter was from Zurich, and he said ‘Yes.’”</p> + +<p>Von Ibn flung his head far back against the chair cushions and laughed +heartily.</p> + +<p>“Oh, <em>mon Dieu</em>!” he exclaimed, “I must ever<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[355]</a></span> amuse myself of a woman; a +woman does always know!”</p> + +<p>Rosina looked at him.</p> + +<p>“Why, it <em>couldn’t</em> have been any one else,” she said positively; “you +know <em>that</em>.”</p> + +<p>He caught her face quickly between his hands and kissed it.</p> + +<p>“It could very well be myself,” he exclaimed, laughing.</p> + +<p>“<em>You!</em>”</p> + +<p>“Yes; quite with ease. <em>Pourquoi pas?</em>”</p> + +<p>“<em>You!</em>”</p> + +<p>Then he laughed afresh in the face of her most complete bewilderment.</p> + +<p>“<em>Tu es tordante!</em>” he said, and then he crushed her suddenly up in his +arms. “It was I that wrote; it was like this.—You shall hear.”</p> + +<p>She freed herself so as to regain an upright position and the ability to +fully satisfy her desire to stare in amazement full in his face.</p> + +<p>“It <em>wasn’t you</em>!” she said incredulously; “not <em>really</em>?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, it was very really I. <em>Écoutez donc</em>, you shall know all.”</p> + +<p>He raised her hands in his, palm to palm, the fingers interwoven, and +looked into her eyes.</p> + +<p>“It was because I am quite decided to marry you,” he began.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[356]</a></span>“There, in Zurich!” she interrupted with a gasp.</p> + +<p>“No, not in Zurich.—Naturally in Lucerne; here that first day, out +there where the Quai lies so still in to-night’s darkness. When you have +spoken first to me I have decided, and from that hour on it is become +only stronger, never less sure.”</p> + +<p>She was drawn to lay her two arms about his neck and to listen +breathlessly to his recital.</p> + +<p>“If you had been rich and I nobody, it had been so simple to marry you, +perhaps; but being myself somebody, I cannot risk anything. It is so +easy to marry an American when one desires but her money, but when one +has also money and desires to marry, <em>voilà ce qui est difficile</em>. It +was for that that I go to the Gare with that man of Zurich,—ah, he has +surely serve us well, that Zuricher man,—and I get of him the address +of your uncle, and then I may write to that uncle and beg that one be +sent over who will have full power to arrange for you, if I can ever +bring you to say ‘Yes.’” He stopped and his voice sank. “I could not be +sure that you would say ‘Yes’ ever,” he continued softly; “but in your +eyes, even at first, I have thought to find a hope.”</p> + +<p>“Go on,” she whispered, touching his lips very lightly with her own.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[357])</a></span>“I am cabled to Leipsic that your cousin will arrive at Hâvre, and we +meet there.”</p> + +<p>Rosina’s head flew upward suddenly.</p> + +<p>“You met Jack!”</p> + +<p>“But certainly. We go together to Dinard that he may meet all my family, +and then we go to Cassel, where there is a castle to us, and to hunt in +the Schwarzwald, and then he has written to America that I am quite rich +and most honest, and of a real love for you; and when there has come an +answer of your uncle, then I return to Munich to you.”</p> + +<p>“And I never knew a thing about any of it!”</p> + +<p>“<em>Ah, ma chérie, pour l’instant on n’avait pas besoin de toi</em>,” he +reminded her, smiling.</p> + +<p>“Go on!”</p> + +<p>“Jack is very sure that all goes well at the end, and I am full of hope +when—”</p> + +<p>“But if you knew him, why did you strike him that night in front of the +Regierung?”</p> + +<p>“But I did not know him there in the dark, and that he should kiss you +there in the street, that did me great surprise. And you have scream so, +naturally I have not think but of a stranger; one would not expect a +cousin of such a scream.”</p> + +<p>“And you went off with him the very next day; why didn’t you let him go +alone?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[358])</a></span>“He has say you were better left. <em>Mon Dieu</em>, but I have been the angel +these past months! I must despair, you are so much decided; and when I +despair the most, Jack will always say, ‘Wait and you shall see that +she sails never from Genoa.’ But I was most unhappy. And my work, my +work that should have gone so greatly out to the world this summer! +<em>Perdu</em>—lost—lost!”</p> + +<p>She laid her cheek softly against his.</p> + +<p>“But that music is not really gone,” she whispered; “it will find a +voice again, a better voice, because—”</p> + +<p>She kissed him fondly.</p> + +<p>“Oh, of a surety,” he said, returning the kiss twofold; “do not think +that I repent me of one second lost in your winning. <em>Mon Dieu</em>, what +life was left me if I had get you not? That I will never bear to +remember for a second. But you must now say that you forgive the man who +did write the letter from Zurich. You will, will you not?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” she declared fervently; “I forgive him for ever and always. I +even,” she smiled into his eyes,—“I even feel obliged to him for the +trouble that he took. But,” she added, “I truly never expected to learn +in the end that ours was simply a ‘<em>mariage des convenances</em>’ after +all!”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>(<a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[359])</a></span>“It was as the marriage of a queen,” he laughed, taking her hand within +his own and raising it reverently to his lips; “with such a marriage +every one knows, everything is quite well ready, the lawyers are done, +all the papers are signed, and then it is last of all that they go to +the queen, and the queen does then say ‘Yes.’<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[360]</a></span>”</p> + + + + + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"><em>A New Romance by the Author of “The Shadow of the Czar”</em></p> + +<h2>THE VIKING’S SKULL</h2> + +<p class="center">By JOHN R. CARLING, author of “The Shadow of the Czar,” etc.<br /> +Illustrated. 12mo. $1.50</p> + +<p>Mr. Carling has written a spirited story of love and adventure, with an +ingeniously constructed plot, which tells how Idris Marville, true Earl +of Ormsby, recovered a treasure hidden by one of his progenitors,—a +Viking of the Ninth Century,—and how he cleared the memory of his +father, who had been wrongfully convicted of murder. There are many +powerful scenes in the book and abundant love interest. The whole story +is exceptionally strong, dramatic, vivid, and interest-compelling. It is +a worthy successor to the author’s remarkable and successful novel, “The +Shadow of the Czar.”</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p class="center"><em>A Story of Modern Quebec by Miss Ray</em></p> + +<h2>BY THE GOOD SAINTE ANNE</h2> + +<p class="center">By ANNA CHAPIN RAY, author of “The Dominant Strain,” etc.<br /> +With frontispiece. 12mo. $1.25</p> + +<p>A young Englishman, Cecil Barth, visiting Quebec on his way to a ranch, +a New York physician and his daughter Nancy, a Canadian of English +descent, and a young French-Canadian studying law are the chief +characters of this charming summer novel, abounding in bright and +interesting conversations. This pleasing story of the love affairs of +vivacious Nancy, the heroine, has for a background the many places of +interest in and around Quebec.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p class="center"><em>A Stirring Tale of the Plains</em></p> + +<h2>THE RAINBOW CHASERS</h2> + +<p class="center">By JOHN H. WHITSON<br /> +Author of “Barbara, A Woman of the West,” etc.<br /> +Illustrated. 12mo. $1.50</p> + +<p>Full of the atmosphere of the West, with a cowboy, land speculator, and +lover for its hero, Mr. Whitson’s new novel, without being in the least +a copy, has many of the attractions of Mr. Wister’s hero, “The +Virginian.”</p> + +<p>“The Rainbow Chasers” is a virile American novel and treats of the +elemental forces of Western life and the results of the great fever of +speculation in land. The prairies and forests of the West are the scenes +which the author has chosen for a novel which is full of interest and +strength.</p> + +<p>The characters of the story are vigorous men, men with red blood in +their veins, men of action who build up new communities.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p class="center"><em>By the Author of “A Prince of Sinners”</em></p> + +<h2>ANNA THE ADVENTURESS</h2> + +<p class="center">By E. PHILLIPS OPPENHEIM, author of<br /> +“A Prince of Sinners,” etc. Illustrated. 12mo. $1.50</p> + +<p>Mr. Oppenheim’s new story of London life shows this talented and +increasingly popular author at his best. The subtle character study of +two sisters, Anna and Annabel, is masterly. The latter “got herself +talked about” when she and her sister lived in Paris, and when Sir John +Ferringham proposed to her, believing her to be Anna, she keeps up the +delusion. The consequences of this bold deception Mr. Oppenheim has +unfolded to us with remarkable ingenuity. The story increases in +interest as it progresses, and sparkles with brilliant conversation and +strong situations.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p class="center"><em>The Story of a Man’s Triumph over the Flesh</em></p> + +<h2>THE WOOD-CARVER OF ’LYMPUS</h2> + +<p class="center">By MARY E. WALLER, author of “A Daughter of the<br /> +Rich,” etc. Illustrated. 12mo. $1.50</p> + +<p>The hero of Miss Waller’s new story is one of the most powerful and +original characters portrayed in recent fiction. Hugh Armstrong, used to +a busy out-of-door life, in felling a tree meets with an accident and +loses the use of his limbs. At first he finds it impossible to adjust +himself to his shut-in life, but a friend suggests wood-carving to him. +Through work and love a great change comes over him, and the author has +portrayed to us in a powerful manner Armstrong’s salvation. The scenes +are laid in the Green Mountains of Vermont.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p class="center"><em>A New Novel of Present-Day Virginia Life</em></p> + +<h2>WHERE THE TIDE COMES IN</h2> + +<p class="center">By LUCY MEACHAM THRUSTON, author of “Mistress<br /> +Brent,” “A Girl of Virginia,” etc.<br /> Illustrated. +12mo. $1.50</p> + +<p>In her new story Mrs. Thruston portrays a heroine as charming as her +delightful “Girl of Virginia.” The scenes of the novel are laid at +Norfolk and Portsmouth, and the vicissitudes of the Southern vegetable +farmer, who depends on the irrepressible negro, are strongly pictured. +The novel is a genuine love-story with a touch of politics, and the +Southern atmosphere is delightfully unhackneyed.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p class="center"><em>A Tale of Norway in the Tenth Century</em></p> + +<h2>THE NORTH STAR</h2> + +<p class="center">By M. E. HENRY-RUFFIN. Illustrated. 12mo. $1.50</p> + +<p>This Viking romance is a tale of love and adventure with King Olaf +Tryggveson for the hero. The story opens with a scene at a fair in +Ireland, where Olaf meets a beautiful Irish princess, and later changes +to Norway, where Olaf returns to be received as King. Such history and +legend as have come to us of that time furnish fertile imagination a +frame for stirring incident and rapid action.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p class="center"><em>By the Author of “The God of Things”</em></p> + +<h2>THE EFFENDI</h2> + +<p class="center">By FLORENCE BROOKS WHITEHOUSE. With<br /> +illustrations. 12mo. $1.50</p> + +<p>The Prologue of this engrossing romance of the Soudan deals with the +siege of Khartoum and the death of the hero, Gordon, and the Epilogue +with the retribution which England exacted from the Arab hordes. Between +the two is placed a dramatic story of love and adventure.</p> + +<p>The author of this stirring story has been highly praised for +characterization and imagination, and for her knowledge of the Nile +country.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p class="center"><em>Some New Stories by Sienkiewicz</em></p> + +<h2>LIFE AND DEATH</h2> + +<p class="center">AND OTHER LEGENDS AND STORIES. By HENRYK +SIENKIEWICZ,<br /> author of “<em>Quo Vadis</em>,” etc. Translated from the original +Polish by<br /> <span class="smcap">Jeremiah Curtin</span>. Illustrated. 16mo. $1.00.</p> + +<p>Contents: I. Life and Death: a Hindu Legend. II. Is he the Dearest One? +III. A Legend of the Sea. IV. The Cranes. V. The Judgment of Peter and +Paul on Olympus.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p class="center"> +LITTLE, BROWN, & CO., <span class="smcap">Publishers</span><br /> +BOSTON, MASS.</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="block"> +<p class="center"><strong>Transcriber’s Note:</strong></p> + +<p class="center">Accents are as they appear in the original book.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> +</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Woman's Will, by Anne Warner + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A WOMAN'S WILL *** + +***** This file should be named 27225-h.htm or 27225-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/7/2/2/27225/ + +Produced by Suzanne Shell and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + +</pre> + +</body> +</html> diff --git a/27225-h/images/cover.jpg b/27225-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..8ac8ea5 --- /dev/null +++ b/27225-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/27225-h/images/gs01.jpg b/27225-h/images/gs01.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4b0ea44 --- /dev/null +++ b/27225-h/images/gs01.jpg diff --git a/27225-h/images/gs02.jpg b/27225-h/images/gs02.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6907933 --- /dev/null +++ b/27225-h/images/gs02.jpg diff --git a/27225-h/images/gs03.jpg b/27225-h/images/gs03.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..51c9ff4 --- /dev/null +++ b/27225-h/images/gs03.jpg diff --git a/27225-h/images/gs04.jpg b/27225-h/images/gs04.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..cb22185 --- /dev/null +++ b/27225-h/images/gs04.jpg diff --git a/27225-h/images/quote.png b/27225-h/images/quote.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0f0a7ac --- /dev/null +++ b/27225-h/images/quote.png diff --git a/27225-h/images/title.jpg b/27225-h/images/title.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1cb2277 --- /dev/null +++ b/27225-h/images/title.jpg |
