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+The Project Gutenberg Etext of Maurice Guest
+by Henry Handel Richardson
+(#1 in our series by Henry Handel Richardson)
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+Title: Maurice Guest
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+Author: Henry Handel Richardson
+
+Release Date: February, 2003  [Etext #3727]
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+The Project Gutenberg Etext of Maurice Guest
+by Henry Handel Richardson
+******This file should be named mrcgs10.txt or mrcgs10.zip******
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+Produced by Col Choat.
+
+
+
+
+
+MAURICE GUEST
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Part I
+
+
+S'amor non e che dunque e quel ch'io sento?
+Ma s'egli e amor, per Dio, che cosa e quale?
+
+PETRARCH
+
+
+
+I.
+
+
+
+One noon in 189-, a young man stood in front of the new Gewandhaus in
+Leipzig, and watched the neat, grass-laid square, until then white and
+silent in the sunshine, grow dark with many figures.
+
+The public rehearsal of the weekly concert was just over, and, from
+the half light of the warm-coloured hall, which for more than two
+hours had held them secluded, some hundreds of people hastened, with
+renewed anticipation, towards sunlight and street sounds. There was a
+medley of tongues, for many nationalities were represented in the
+crowd that surged through the ground-floor and out of the glass doors,
+and much noisy ado, for the majority was made up of young people, at
+an age that enjoys the sound of its own voice. In black, diverging
+lines they poured through the heavy swinging doors, which flapped
+ceaselessly to and fro, never quite closing, always opening afresh,
+and on descending the shallow steps, they told off into groups, where
+all talked at once, with lively gesticulation. A few faces had the
+strained look that indicates the conscientious listener; but most of
+these young musicians were under the influence of a stimulant more
+potent than wine, which manifested itself in a nervous garrulity and a
+nervous mirth.
+
+They hummed like bees before a hive. Maurice Guest, who had come out
+among the first, lingered to watch a scene that was new to him, of
+which he was as yet an onlooker only. Here and there came a member of
+the orchestra; with violin-case or black-swathed wind-instrument in
+hand, he deftly threaded his way through the throng, bestowing, as he
+went, a hasty nod of greeting upon a colleague, a sweep of the hat on
+an obsequious pupil. The crowd began to disperse and to overflow in
+the surrounding streets. Some of the stragglers loitered to swell the
+group that was forming round the back entrance to the building; here
+the lank-haired Belgian violinist would appear, the wonders of whose
+technique had sent thrills of enthusiasm through his hearers, and
+whose close proximity would presently affect them in precisely the
+same way. Others again made off, not for the town, with its
+prosaic suggestion of work and confinement, but for the freedom of the
+woods that lay beyond.
+
+Maurice Guest followed them.
+
+It was a blowy day in early spring. Round white masses of cloud moved
+lightly across a deep blue sky, and the trees, still thin and naked,
+bent their heads and shook their branches, as if to elude the gambols
+of a boisterous playfellow. The sun shone vividly, with restored
+power, and though the clouds sometimes passed over his very face, the
+shadows only lasted for a moment, and each returning radiance seemed
+brighter than the one before. In the pure breath of the wind, as it
+gustily swept the earth, was a promise of things vernal, of the tender
+beauties of a coming spring; but there was still a keen, delightful
+freshness in the air, a vague reminder of frosty starlights and serene
+white snow--the untrodden snow of deserted, moon-lit streets--that
+quickened the blood, and sent a craving for movement through the
+veins. The people who trod the broad, clean roads and the paths of the
+wood walked with a spring in their steps; voices were light and high,
+and each breath that was drawn increased the sense of buoyancy, of
+undiluted satisfaction. With these bursts of golden sunshine, so other
+than the pallid gleamings of the winter, came a fresh impulse to life;
+and the most insensible was dimly conscious how much had to be made up
+for, how much lived into such a day.
+
+Maurice Guest walked among the mossgreen tree-trunks, each of which
+vied with the other in the brilliancy of its coating. He was under the
+sway of a twofold intoxication: great music and a day rich in promise.
+From the flood of melody that had broken over him, the frenzied storms
+of applause, he had come out, not into a lamplit darkness that would
+have crushed his elation back upon him and hemmed it in, but into the
+spacious lightness of a fair blue day, where all that he felt could
+expand, as a flower does in the sun.
+
+His walk brought him to a broad stream, which flashed through the wood
+like a line of light. He paused on a suspension bridge, and leaning
+over the railing, gazed up the river into the distance, at the horizon
+and its trees, delicate and feathery in their nakedness against the
+sky. Swollen with recent rains and snows, the water came hurrying
+towards him--the storm-bed of the little river, which, meandering in
+from the country, through pleasant woods, in ever narrowing curves,
+ran through the town as a small stream, to be swelled again on
+the outskirts by the waters of two other rivers, which joined it at
+right angles. The bridge trembled at first, when other people crossed
+it, on their way to the woods that lay on the further side, but soon
+the last stragglers vanished, and he was alone.
+
+As he looked about, eager to discover beauty in the strip of landscape
+that stretched before him--the line of water, its banks of leafless
+trees--he was instinctively filled with a desire for something grander,
+for a feature in the scene that would answer to his mood. There, where
+the water appeared to end in a clump of trees, there, should be
+mountains, a gently undulating line, blue with the unapproachable blue
+of distance, and high enough to form a background to the view; in
+sumer, heavy with haze, melting into the sky; in winter, lined and
+edged with snow. From this, his thoughts sprang back to the music he
+had heard that morning. All the vague yet eager hopes that had run
+riot in his brain, for months past, seemed to have been summed up and
+made clear to him, in one supreme phrase of it, a great phrase in C
+major, in the concluding movement of Beethoven's Fifth Symphony. First
+sounded by the shrill sweet winds, it had suddenly been given out by
+the strings, in magnificient unison, and had mounted up and on, to the
+jubilant trilling of the little flutes. There was such a courageous
+sincerity in this theme, such undauntable resolve; it expressed more
+plainly than words what he intended his life of the next few years to
+be; for he was full to the brim of ambitious intentions, which he had
+never yet had a chance of putting into practice. He felt so ready for
+work, so fresh and unworn; the fervour of a deep enthusiasm was
+rampant in him. What a single-minded devotion to art, he promised
+himself his should be! No other fancy or interest should share his
+heart with it, he vowed that to himself this day, when he stood for
+the first time on historic ground, where the famous musicians of the
+past had found inspiration for their immortal works. And his thoughts
+spread their wings and circled above his head; he saw himself already
+of these masters' craft, their art his, he wrenching ever new secrets
+from them, penetrating the recesses of their genius, becoming one of
+themselves. In a vision as vivid as those that cross the brain in a
+sleepless night, he saw a dark, compact multitude wait, with breath
+suspended, to catch the notes that fell like raindrops from his
+fingers; saw himself the all-conspicuous figure, as, with masterful
+gestures, he compelled the soul that lay dormant in brass and strings,
+to give voice to, to interpret to the many, his subtlest
+emotions. And he was overcome by a tremulous compassion with himself
+at the idea of wielding such power over an unknown multitude, at the
+latent nobility of mind and aim this power implied.
+
+Even when swinging back to the town, he had not shaken himself free of
+dreams. The quiet of a foreign midday lay upon the streets, and there
+were few discordant sounds, few passers-by, to break the chain of his
+thought. He had movememt, silence, space. And as is usual with
+active-brained dreamers, he had little or no eye for the real life
+about him; he was not struck by the air of comfortable prosperity, of
+thriving content, which marked the great commercial centre, and he let
+pass, unnoticed, the unfamiliar details of a foreign street, the
+trifling yet significant incidents of foreign life. Such impressions
+as he received, bore the stamp of his own mood. He was sensible, for
+instance, in face of the picturesque houses that clustered together in
+the centre of the town, of the spiritual GEMUTLICHKEIT, the absence of
+any pomp or pride in their romantic past, which characterises the old
+buildings of a German town. These quaint and stately houses, wedged
+one into the other, with their many storeys, their steeply sloping
+roofs and eye-like roof-windows, were still in sympathetic touch with
+the trivial life of the day which swarmed in and about them. He
+wandered leisurely along the narrow streets that ran at all angles off
+the Market Place, one side of which was formed by the gabled RATHAUS,
+with its ground-floor row of busy little shops; and, in fancy, he
+peopled these streets with the renowned figures that had once walked
+them. He looked up at the dark old houses in which great musicians had
+lived, died and been born, and he saw faces that he recognised lean
+out of the projecting windows, to watch the life and bustle below, to
+catch the last sunbeam that filtered in; he saw them take their daily
+walk along these very streets, in the antiquated garments of their
+time. They passed him by, shadelike and misanthropic, and seemed to
+steal down the opposite side, to avoid his too pertinent gaze. Bluff,
+preoccupied, his keen eyes lowered, the burly Cantor passed, as he had
+once done day after day, with the disciplined regularity of high
+genius, of the honest citizen, to his appointed work in the shadows of
+the organ-loft; behind him, one who had pointed to the giant with a
+new burst of ardour, the genial little improviser, whose triumphs had
+been those of this town, whose fascinating gifts and still more
+fascinating personality, had made him the lion of his age. And
+it was only another step in this train of half-conscious thought,
+that, before a large lettered poster, which stood out black and white
+against the reds and yellows of the circular advertisement-column, and
+bore the word "Siegfried," Maurice Guest should not merely be filled
+with the anticipation of a world of beauty still unexplored, but that
+the world should stand to him for a symbol, as it were, of the easeful
+and luxurious side of a life dedicated to art--of a world-wide fame;
+the society of princes, kings; the gloss of velvet; the dull glow of
+gold.--And again, tapering vistas opened up, through which he could
+peer into the future, happy in the knowledge, that he stood firm in a
+present which made all things possible to a holy zeal, to an
+unhesitating grasp.
+
+But it was growing late, and he slowly retraced his steps. In the
+restaurant into which he turned for dinner, he was the only customer.
+The principal business of the day was at an end; two waiters sat
+dozing in corners, and a man behind the counter, who was washing
+metal-topped beer-glasses, had almost the whole pile polished bright
+before him. Maurice Guest sat down at a table by the window; and, when
+he had finished his dinner and lighted a cigarette, he watched the
+passers-by, who crossed the pane of glass like the figures in a moving
+photograph.
+
+Suddenly the door opened with an energetic click, and a lady came in,
+enveloped in an old-fashioned, circular cloak, and carrying on one arm
+a pile of paper-covered music. This, she laid on the table next that
+at which the young man was sitting, then took off her hat. When she
+had also hung up the unbecoming cloak, he saw that she was young and
+slight. For the rest, she seemed to bring with her, into the warm,
+tranquil atmosphere of the place, heavy with midday musings, a breath
+of wind and outdoor freshness--a suggestion that was heightened by the
+quick decisiveness of her movements: the briskness with which she
+divested herself of her wrappings, the quick smooth of the hair on
+either side, the business-like way in which she drew up her chair to
+the table and unfolded her napkin.
+
+She seemed to be no stranger there, for, on her entrance, the younger
+and more active waiter had at once sprung up with officious haste, and
+almost before she was ready, the little table was newly spread and
+set, and the dinner of the day before her. She spoke to the man in a
+friendly way as she took her seat, and he replied with a pleased and
+smiling respect.
+
+Then she began to eat, deliberately, and with an overemphasised
+nicety. As she carried her soup-spoon to her lips, Maurice Guest felt
+that she was observing him; and throughout the meal, of which she ate
+but little, he was aware of a peculiarly straight and penetrating
+gaze. It ended by disconcerting him. Beckoning the waiter, he went
+through the business of paying his bill, and this done, was about to
+push back his chair and rise to his feet, when the man, in gathering
+up the money, addressed what seemed to be a question to him. Fearful
+lest he had made a mistake in the strange coinage, Maurice looked up
+apprehensively. The waiter repeated his words, but the slight
+nervousness that gained on the young man made him incapable of
+separating the syllables, which were indistinguishably blurred. He
+coloured, stuttered, and felt mortally uncomfortable, as, for the
+third time, the waiter repeated his remark, with the utmost slowness.
+
+At this point, the girl at the adjacent table put down her knife and
+fork, and leaned slightly forward.
+
+"Excuse me," she said, and smiled. "The waiter only said he thought
+you must be a stranger here: DER HERR IST GEWISS FREMD IN LEIPZIG?"
+Her rather prominent teeth were visible as she spoke.
+
+Maurice, who understood instantly her pronunciation of the words, was
+not set any more at his ease by her explanation. "Thanks very much."
+he said, still redder than usual. "I . . . er . . . thought the fellow
+was saying something about the money."
+
+"And the Saxon dialect is barbarous, isn't it?" she added kindly. "But
+perhaps you have not had much experience of it yet."
+
+"No. I only arrived this morning."
+
+At this, she opened her eyes wide. "Why, you are a courageous person!"
+she said and laughed, but did not explain what she meant, and he did
+not like to ask her.
+
+A cup of coffee was set on the table before her; she held a lump of
+sugar in her spoon, and watched it grow brown and dissolve. "Are you
+going to make a long stay?" she asked, to help him over his
+embarrassment.
+
+"Two years, I hope," said the young man.
+
+"Music?" she queried further, and, as he replied affirmatively: "Then
+the Con. of course?"--an enigmatic question that needed to be
+explained. "You're piano, are you not?" she went on. "I thought so. It
+is hardly possible to mistake the hands"--here she just glanced
+at her own, which, large, white, and well formed, were lying on the
+table. "With strings, you know, the right hand is as a rule shockingly
+defective."
+
+He found the high clearness of her voice very agreeable after the deep
+roundnesses of German, and could have gone on listening to it. But she
+was brushing the crumbs from her skirt, preparatory to rising.
+
+"Are you an old resident here?" he queried in the hope of detaining
+her.
+
+"Yes, quite. I'm at the end of my second year; and don't know whether
+to be glad or sorry," she answered. "Time goes like a flash.--Now, look
+here, as one who knows the ways of the place, would you let me give
+you a piece of advice? Yes?--It's this. You intend to enter the
+Conservatorium, you say. Well, be sure you get under a good man--that's
+half the battle. Try and play privately to either Schwarz or Bendel.
+If you go in for the public examination with all the rest, the people
+in the BUREAU will put you to anyone they like, and that is disastrous.
+Choose your own master, and beard him in his den beforehand."
+
+"Yes . . . and you recommend? May I ask whom you are with?" he said
+eagerly.
+
+"Schwarz is my master; and I couldn't wish for a better. But Bendel is
+good, too, in his way, and is much sought after by the
+Americans--you're not American, are you? No.--Well, the English colony
+runs the American close nowadays. We're a regular army. If you don't
+want to, you need hardly mix with foreigners as long as you're here.
+We have our clubs and balls and other social functions--and our
+geniuses--and our masters who speak English like natives . . . But
+there!--you'll soon know all about it yourself."
+
+She nodded pleasantly and rose.
+
+"I must be off," she said. "To-day every minute is precious. That
+wretched PROBE spoils the morning, and directly it is over, I have to
+rush to an organ-lesson--that's why I'm here. For I can't expect a
+PENSION to keep dinner hot for me till nearly three o'clock--can I?
+Morning rehearsals are a mistake. What?--you were there, too?
+Really?--after a night in the train? Well, you didn't get much, did
+you, for your energy? A dull aria, an overture that 'belongs in the
+theatre,' as they say here, an indifferently played symphony that one
+has heard at least a dozen times. And for us poor pianists, not a
+fresh dish this season. Nothing but yesterday's remains heated
+up again."
+
+She laughed as she spoke, and Maurice Guest laughed, too, not being
+able at the moment to think of anything to say.
+
+Getting the better of the waiter, who stood by, napkin on arm, smiling
+and officious, he helped her into the unbecoming cloak; then took up
+the parcel of music and opened the door. In his manner of doing this,
+there may have been a touch of over-readiness, for no sooner was she
+outside, than she quietly took the music from him, and, without even
+offering him her hand, said a friendly but curt good-bye: almost
+before he had time to return it, he saw her hurrying up the street, as
+though she had never vouchsafed him word or thought. The abruptness of
+the dismissal left him breathless; in his imagination, they had walked
+at least a strip of the street together. He stepped off the pavement
+into the road, that he might keep her longer in sight, and for some
+time he saw her head, in the close-fitting hat, bobbing along above
+the heads of other people.
+
+On turning again, he found that the waiter was watching him from the
+window of the restaurant, and it seemed to the young man that the
+pale, servile face wore a malicious smile. With the feeling of
+disconcertion that springs from being caught in an impulsive action we
+have believed unobserved, Maurice spun round on his heel and took a
+few quick steps in the opposite direction. When once he was out of
+range of the window, however, he dropped his pace, and at the next
+corner stopped altogether. He would at least have liked to know her
+name. And what in all the world was he to do with himself now?
+
+Clouds had gathered; the airy blue and whiteness of the morning had
+become a level sheet of grey, which wiped the colour out of
+everything; the wind, no longer tempered by the sun, was chilly, as it
+whirled down the narrow streets and freaked about the corners. There
+was little temptation now to linger on one's steps. But Maurice Guest
+was loath to return to the solitary room that stood to him for home,
+to shut himself up with himself, inside four walls: and turning up his
+coat collar, he began to walk slowly along the curved
+GRIMMAISCHESTRASSE. But the streets were by this time black with
+people, most of whom came hurrying towards him, brisk and bustling,
+and gay, in spite of the prevailing dullness, at the prospect of the
+warm, familiar evening. He was continually obliged to step off the
+pavement into the road, to allow a bunch of merry, chattering
+girls, their cheeks coloured by the wind beneath the dark fur of their
+hats, or a line of gaudy capped, thickset students, to pass him by,
+unbroken; and it seemed to him that he was more frequently off the
+pavement than on it. He began to feel disconsolate among these jovial
+people, who were hastening forward, with such spirit, to some end, and
+he had not gone far, before he turned down a side street to be out of
+their way. Vaguely damped by his environment, which, with the sun's
+retreat, had lost its charm, he gave himself up to his own thoughts,
+and was soon busily engaged in thinking over all that had been said by
+his quondam acquaintance of the dinner-table, in inventing neatly
+turned phrases and felicitous replies. He walked without aim, in a
+leisurely way down quiet streets, quickly across big thoroughfares,
+and paid no attention to where he was going. The falling darkness made
+the quaint streets look strangely alike; it gave them, too, an air of
+fantastic unreality: the dark old houses, marshalled in rows on either
+side, stood as if lost in contemplation, in the saddening dusk. The
+lighting of the street-lamps, which started one by one into existence,
+and the conflict with the fading daylight of the uneasily beating
+flame, that was swept from side to side in the wind like a woman's
+hair--these things made his surroundings seem still shadowier and less
+real.
+
+He was roused from his reverie by finding himself on what was
+apparently the outskirts of the town. With much difficulty he made his
+way back, but he was still far from certain of his whereabouts, when
+an unexpected turn to the right brought him out on the spacious
+AUGUSTUSPLATZ, in front of the New Theatre. He had been in this square
+once already, but now its appearance was changed. The big buildings
+that flanked it were lit up; the file of droschkes waiting for fares,
+under the bare trees, formed a dotted line of lights. A double row of
+hanging lamps before the CAFE FRANCAIS made the corner of the
+GRIMMAISCHESTRASSE dazzling to the eyes; and now, too, the massive
+white theatre was awake as well. Lights shone from all its high
+windows, streamed out through the Corinthian columns and low-porched
+doorways. Its festive air was inviting, after his twilight wanderings,
+and he went across the square to it. Immediately before the theatre,
+early corners stood in knots and chatted; programme--and text-vendors
+cried and sold their wares; people came hurrying from all directions,
+as to a magnet; hastily they ascended the low steps and disappeared
+beneath the portico.
+
+He watched until the last late-comer had vanished. Only he was left;
+he again was the outsider. And now, as he stood there in the deserted
+square, which, a moment before, had been so animated, he had a sudden
+sinking of the heart: he was seized by that acute sense of desolation
+that lies in wait for one, caught by nightfall, alone in a strange
+city. It stirs up a wild longing, not so much for any particular spot
+on earth, as for some familiar hand or voice, to take the edge off an
+intolerable loneliness.
+
+He turned and walked rapidly back to the small hotel near the railway
+station, at which he was staying until he found lodgings. He was tired
+out, and for the first time became thoroughly conscious of this; but
+the depression that now closed in upon him, was not due to fatigue
+alone, and he knew it. In sane moments--such as the present--when
+neither excitement nor enthusiasm warped his judgment, he was under no
+illusion about himself; and as he strode through the darkness, he
+admitted that, all day long, he had been cheating himself in the usual
+way. He understood perfectly that it was by no means a matter of
+merely stretching out his hand, to pluck what he would, from this tree
+that waved before him; he reminded himself with some bitterness that
+he stood, an unheralded stranger, before a solidly compact body of
+things and people on which he had not yet made any impression. It was
+the old story: he played at expecting a ready capitulation of the
+whole--gods and men--and, at the same time, was only too well aware of
+the laborious process that was his sole means of entry and fellowship.
+Again--to instance another of his mental follies--the pains he had been
+at to take possession of the town, to make it respond to his forced
+interpretation of it! In reality, it had repelled him--yes, he was
+chilled to the heart by the aloofness of this foreign town, to which
+not a single tie yet bound him.
+
+By the light of a fluttering candle, in the dingy hotel bedroom, he
+sat and wrote a letter, briefly announcing his safe arrival. About to
+close the envelope, he hesitated, and then, unfolding the sheet of
+paper again, added a few lines to what he had written. These cost him
+more trouble than all the rest.
+
+ONCE MORE, HEARTY THANKS TO YOU BOTH, MY DEAR PARENTS, FOR LETTING ME
+HAVE MY OWN WAY. I HOPE YOU WILL NEVER HAVE REASON TO REGRET IT. ONE
+THING, AT LEAST, I CAN PROMISE YOU, AND THAT IS, THAT NOT A DAY OF MY
+TIME HERE SHALL BE WASTED OR MISSPENT. YOU HAVE NOT, I KNOW,
+THE SAME FAITH IN ME THAT I HAVE MYSELF, AND THIS HAS OFTEN BEEN A
+BITTER THOUGHT TO ME. BUT ONLY HAVE PATIENCE. SOMETHING STRONGER THAN
+MYSELF DROVE ME TO IT, AND IF I AM TO SUCCEED ANYWHERE, IT WILL BE
+HERE. AND I MEAN TO SUCCEED, IF HUMAN WILL CAN DO IT.
+
+He threw himself on the creaking wooden bed and tried to sleep. But
+his brain was active, and the street was noisy; people talked late in
+the adjoining room, and trod heavily in the one above. It was long
+after midnight before the house was still and he fell into an uneasy
+sleep.
+
+Towards morning, he had a strange dream, from which he wakened in a
+cold sweat. Once more he was wandering through the streets, as he had
+done the previous day, apparently in search of something he could not
+find. But he did not know himself what he sought. All of a sudden, on
+turning a corner, he came upon a crowd of people gathered round some
+object in the road, and at once said to himself, this is it, here it
+is. He could not, however, see what it actually was, for the people,
+who were muttering to themselves in angry tones, strove to keep him
+back. At all costs, he felt, he must get nearer to the mysterious
+thing, and, in a spirit of bravado, he was pushing through the crowd
+to reach it, when a great clamour arose; every one sprang back, and
+fled wildly, shrieking: "Moloch, Moloch!" He did not know in the least
+what it meant, but the very strangeness of the word added to the
+horror, and he, too, fled with the rest; fled blindly, desperately, up
+streets and down, watched, it seemed to him, from every window by a
+cold, malignant eye, but never daring to turn his head, lest he should
+see the awful thing behind him; fled on and on, through streets that
+grew ever vaguer and more shadowy, till at last his feet would carry
+him no further: he sank down, with a loud cry, sank down, down, down,
+and wakened to find that he was sitting up in bed, clammy with fear,
+and that dawn was stealing in at the sides of the window.
+
+
+
+
+II.
+
+
+
+In Maurice Guest, it might be said that the smouldering unrest of two
+generations burst into flame. As a young man, his father, then a poor
+teacher in a small provincial town, had been a prey to certain dreams
+and wishes, which harmonised ill with the conditions of his life.
+When, for example, on a mild night, he watched the moon scudding a
+silvery, cloud-flaked sky; when white clouds sailed swiftly, and soft
+spring breezes were hastening past; when, in a word, all things seemed
+to be making for some place, unknown, afar-off, where he was not, then
+he, too, was seized with a desire to be moving, to strap on a knapsack
+and be gone, to wander through foreign countries, to see strange
+cities and hear strange tongues, was unconsciously filled with the
+desire to taste, lighthearted, irresponsible, the joys and experiences
+of the WANDERJAHRE, before settling down to face the
+matter-of-factnesss of life. And as the present continually pushed the
+realisation of his dreams into the future, he satisfied the immediate
+thirst of his soul by playing the flute, and by breathing into the
+thin, reedy tones he drew from it, all that he dreamed of, but would
+never know. For he presently came to a place in his life where two
+paths diverged, and he was forced to make a choice between them. It
+was characteristic of the man that he chose the way of least
+resistance, and having married, more or less improvidently, he turned
+his back on the visions that had haunted his youth: afterwards, the
+cares, great and small, that came in the train of the years, drove
+them ever further into the background. Want of sympathy in his
+home-life blunted the finer edges of his nature; of a gentle and
+yielding disposition, he took on the commonplace colour of his
+surroundings. After years of unhesitating toil, it is true, the most
+pressing material needs died down, but the dreams and ambitions had
+died, too, never to come again. And as it is in the nature of things
+that no one is less lenient towards romantic longings than he who has
+suffered disappointment in them, who has failed to transmute them into
+reality, so, in this case, the son's first tentative leanings to a
+wider life, met with a more deeply-rooted, though less decisive,
+opposition, on the part of the father than of the mother.
+
+But Maurice Guest had a more tenacious hold on life.
+
+The home in which he grew up, was one of those cheerless, middle-class
+homes, across which never passes a breath of the great gladness, the
+ideal beauty of life; where thought never swings itself above the
+material interests of the day gone, the day to come, and existence
+grows as timid and trivial as the petty griefs and pleasures that
+intersperse it. The days drip past, one by one, like water from a
+spout after a rain-shower; and the dull monotony of them benumbs all
+wholesome temerity at its core. Maurice Guest had known days of this
+kind. For before the irksomeness of the school-bench was well behind
+him, he had begun his training as a teacher, and as soon as he had
+learnt how to instil his own half-digested knowledge into the minds of
+others, he received a small post in the school at which his father
+taught. The latter had, for some time, secretly cherished a wish to
+send the boy to study at the neighbouring university, to make a
+scholar of his eldest son; but the longer he waited, the more
+unfavourable did circumstances seem, and the idea finally died before
+it was born.
+
+Maurice Guest looked back on the four years he had just come through,
+with bitterness; and it was only later, when he was engrossed heart
+and soul in congenial work, that he began to recognise, and be vaguely
+grateful for, the spirit of order with which they had familiarised
+him. At first, he could not recall them without an aversion that was
+almost physical: this machine-like regularity, which, in its disregard
+of mood and feeling, had something of a divine callousness to human
+stirrings; the jarring contact with automaton-like people; his
+inadequacy and distaste for a task that grew day by day more painful.
+His own knowledge was so hesitating, so uncertain, too slight for
+self-confidence, just too much and too fresh to allow him to
+generalise with the unthinking assurance that was demanded of him. Yet
+had anyone, he asked himself, more obstacles to overcome than he, in
+his efforts to set himself free? This silent, undemonstrative father,
+who surrounded himself with an unscalable wall of indifference; this
+hard-faced, careworn mother, about whose mouth the years had traced
+deep lines, and for whom, in the course of a single-handed battle with
+life, the true reality had come to be success or failure in the
+struggle for bread. What was art to them but an empty name, a pastime
+for the drones and idlers of existence? How could he set up his
+ambitions before them, to be bowled over like so many ninepins? When,
+at length, after much heartburning and conscientious scrupling,
+he was mastered by a healthier spirit of self-assertion, which made
+him rebel against the uselessness of the conflict, and doggedly
+resolve to put an end to it, he was only enabled to stand firm by
+summoning to his aid all the strengthening egoism, which is latent in
+every more or less artistic nature. To the mother, in her honest
+narrowness, the son's choice of a calling which she held to be
+unfitting, was something of a tragedy. She allowed no item of her duty
+to escape her, and moved about the house as usual, sternly observant
+of her daily task, but her lips were compressed to a thin line, and
+her face reflected the anger that burnt in her heart, too deep for
+speech. In the months that followed, Maurice learnt that the censure
+hardest to meet is that which is never put into words, which refuses
+to argue or discuss: he chafed inwardly against the unspoken
+opposition that will not come out to be grappled with, and overthrown.
+And, as he was only too keenly aware, there was more to be faced than
+a mere determined aversion to the independence with which he had
+struck out: there was, in the first place, a pardonably human sense of
+aggrievedness that the eldest-born should cross their plans and
+wishes; that, after the year-long care and thought they had bestowed
+on him, he should demand fresh efforts from them; and, again, most
+harassing of all and most invulnerable, such an entire want of faith
+in the powers he was yearning to test--the prophet's lot in the mean
+blindness of the family--that, at times, it threatened to shake his
+hard-won faith in himself.--But before the winter drew to a close he
+was away.
+
+Away!--to go out into the world and be a musican--that was his longing
+and his dream. And he never came to quite an honest understanding with
+himself on this point, for desire and dream were interwoven in his
+mind; he could not separate the one from the other. But when he
+weighed them, and allowed them to rise up and take shape before him,
+it was invariably in this order that they did so. In reality, although
+he himself was but vaguely conscious of the fact, it was to some
+extent as means to an end, that, when his eyes had been opened to its
+presence, he clutched--like a drowning man who seizes upon a
+spar--clutched and held fast to his talent. But the necessary insight
+into his powers had first to be gained, for it was not one of those
+talents which, from the beginning, strut their little world with the
+assurance of the peacock. He was, it is true, gifted with an
+instinctive feeling for the value and significance of tones--as
+a child he sang by ear in a small, sweet voice, which gained him the
+only notice he received at school, and he easily picked out his notes,
+and taught himself little pieces, on the old-fashioned, silk-faced
+piano, which had belonged to his mother as a girl, and at which, in
+the early days of her marriage, she had sung in a high, shrill voice,
+the sentimental songs of her youth. But here, for want of incentive,
+matters remained; Maurice was kept close at his school-books, and,
+boylike, he had no ambition to distinguish himself in a field so
+different from that in which his comrades won their spurs. It was only
+when, with the end of his schooldays in sight, he was putting away
+childish things, that he seriously turned his attention to the piano
+and his hands. They were those of the pianist, broad, strong and
+supple, and the new occupation soon engrossed him deeply; he gave up
+all his spare time to it, and, in a few months, attained so creditable
+a proficiency, that he went through a course of instruction with a
+local teacher of music, who, scenting talent, dismissed preliminaries
+with the assurance of his kind, and initiated his pupil into all that
+is false and meretricious in the literature of the piano--the cheaply
+pathetic, the tinsel of transcription, the titillating melancholy of
+Slavonic dance-music--to leave him, but for an increased agility of
+finger, not a whit further forward than he had found him. Then
+followed months when the phantom of discontent stalked large through
+Maurice's life, grew, indeed, day by day more tangible, more easily
+defined; for there came the long, restless summer evenings, when it
+seemed as if a tranquil darkness would never fall and bar off the
+distant, the unattainable; and as he followed some flat, white country
+road, that was lost to sight on the horizon as a tapering line, or
+looked out across a stretch of low, luxuriant meadows, the very
+placidity of which made heart and blood throb quicker, in a sense of
+opposition: then the desire to have finished with the life he knew,
+grew almost intolerable, and only a spark was needed to set his
+resolve ablaze.
+
+It was one evening when the summer had already dragged itself to a
+close, that Maurice walked through a drizzling rain to the
+neighbouring cathedral town, to attend a performance of ELIJAH. It was
+the first important musical experience of his life, and, carried away
+by the volumes of sound, he repressed his agitation so ill, that it
+became apparent to his neighbour, a small, wizened, old man, who was
+leaning forward, his hands hanging between his knees and his eyes
+fixed on the floor, alternately shaking and nodding his head.
+In the interval between the parts, they exchanged a few words,
+halting, excited on Maurice's part, interrogative on his companion's;
+when the performance was over, they walked a part of the way together,
+and found so much to say, that often, after this, when his week's work
+was behind him, Maurice would cover the intervening miles for the
+pleasure of a few hours' conversation with this new friend. In a
+small, dark room, the air of which was saturated with tobacco-smoke,
+he learned, by degrees, the story of the old musician's life: how,
+some thirty years previously, he had drifted into the midst of this
+provincial population, where he found it easy to earn enough for his
+needs, and where his position was below that of a dancing-master; but
+how, long ago, in his youth--that youth of which he spoke with a
+far-away tone in his voice, and at which he seemed to be looking out
+as at a fading shore--it had been his intention to perfect himself as a
+pianist. Life had been against him; when, the resolve was strongest,
+poverty and ill-heath kept him down, and since then, with the years
+that passed, he had come to see that his place would only have been
+among the multitude of little talents, whose destiny it is to imitate
+and vulgarise the strivings of genius, to swell the over-huge mass of
+mediocrity. And so, he had chosen that his life should he a failure--a
+failure, that is, in the eyes of the world; for himself, he judged
+otherwise. The truth that could be extracted from words was such a
+fluctuating, relative truth. Failure! success!--what WAS success, but a
+clinging fast, unabashed by smile or neglect, to that better part in
+art, in one's self, that cannot be taken away?--never for a thought's
+space being untrue to the ideal each one of us bears in his breast;
+never yielding jot or tittle to the world's opinion. That was what it
+meant, and he who was proudly conscious of having succeeded thus,
+could well afford to regard the lives of others as half-finished and
+imperfect; he alone was at one with himself, his life alone was a
+harmonious whole.
+
+To Maurice Guest, all this mattered little or not at all; it was
+merely the unavoidable introduction. The chief thing was that the old
+man had known the world which Maurice so desired to know; he had seen
+life, had lived much of his youth in foreign lands, and had the
+conversation been skilfully set agoing in this direction, he would lay
+a wrinkled hand on his listener's shoulder, and tell him of this
+shadowy past, with short hoarse chuckles of pleasure and reminiscence,
+which invariably ended in a cough. He painted it in vivid colours, and
+with the unconscious heightening of effect that comes natural
+to one who looks back upon a happy past, from which the countless
+pricks and stings that make up reality have faded, leaving in their
+place a sense of dreamy, unreal brightness, like that of sunset upon
+distant hills. He told him of Germany, and the gay, careless years he
+had spent there, working at his art, years of inspiriting,
+untrammelled progress; told him of famous musicians he had seen and
+known, of great theatre performances at which he had assisted, of
+stirring PREMIERES, long since forgotten, of burning youthful
+enthusiasms, of nights sleepless with holy excitement, and days of
+fruitful, meditative idleness. Under the spell of these reminiscences,
+he seemed to come into touch again with life, and his eyes lit with a
+spark of the old fire. At moments, he forgot his companion altogether,
+and gazed long and silently before him, nodding and smiling to himself
+at the memories he had stirred up in his brain, memories of things
+that had long ceased to be, of people who had long been quiet and
+unassertive beneath their handful of earth, but for whom alone, the
+brave, fair world had once seemed to exist. Then he would lose himself
+among strange names, in vague histories of those who had borne these
+names, and of what they had become in their subsequent journeyings
+towards the light, for which they had set out, side by side, with so
+much ardour (and oftenest what he had to tell was a modest
+mediocrity); but the greater number of them had lost sight one of the
+other; the most inseparable friends had, once parted, soon forgotten.
+And the bluish smoke sent upwards as he talked, in clouds and spirals
+that mounted rapidly and vanished, seemed to Maurice symbolic of the
+brief and shadowy lives that were unrolled before him. But, after all
+this, when the lights came, the piano was opened, and then, for an
+hour or two, the world was forgotten in a different way. It was here
+that the chief landmarks of music emerged from the mists in which, for
+Maurice, they had hitherto been enveloped; here he learned that Bach
+and Beethoven were giants, and made uncertain efforts at appreciation;
+learnt that Gluck was a great composer, Mozart a genius of many parts,
+Mendelssohn the direct successor in this line of kings. Sonatas,
+symphonies, operas, were hammered out with tremendous force and
+precision on the harsh, scrupulously tuned piano; and all were
+dominated alike by the hoarse voice of the old man, who never wavered,
+never faltered, but sang from beginning to end with all his might.
+Each one of the pleasant hours spent in this new world helped to
+deepen Maurice's resolution to free himself while there was yet
+time; each one gave more clearness and precision to his somewhat
+formless desires; for, in all that concerned his art, the nameless old
+musician hated his native land, with the hatred of the bigot for those
+who are hostile or indifferent to his faith.
+
+With a long and hot-chased goal in sight, a goal towards which our
+hearts, in joyous eagerness, have already leapt out, it is astonishing
+how easy it becomes to make light of the last, monotonous stretch of
+road that remains to be travelled. Is there not, just beyond, a
+resting-place?--and cool, green shadows? Events and circumstances which
+had hitherto loomed forth gigantic, threatening to crush, now appeared
+to Maurice trivial and of little moment; he saw them in other
+proportions now, for it seemed to him that he was no longer in their
+midst: he stood above them and overlooked them, and, with his eyes
+fixed upon a starry future, he joyfully prepared himself for his new
+life. What is more, those around him helped him to this altered view
+of things. For as the present marched steadily upon the future,
+devouring as it went; as the departure this future contained took on
+the shape of a fact, the countless details of which called for
+attention, it began to be accepted as even the most unpalatable facts
+in the long run usually are, with an ungracious resignation in face of
+the inevitable. Thus, with all his ardour to be gone, Maurice Guest
+came to see the last stage of his home-life almost in a bright light,
+and even with a touch of melancholy, as something that was fast
+slipping from him, never to be there in all its entirety, exactly as
+it now was, again: the last calm hour of respite before he plunged
+into the triumphs, but also into the tossings and agitations of the
+future.
+
+
+
+
+III.
+
+
+
+It was April, and a day such as April will sometimes bring: one of
+those days when the air is full of a new, mysterious fragrance, when
+the sunshine lies like a flood upon the earth, and high clouds hang
+motionless in the far-distant blue--a day at the very heels of which it
+would seem that summer was lurking. Maurice Guest stood at his window,
+both sides of which were flung open, drinking in the warm air, and
+gazing absently up at the stretch of sky, against which the dark
+roof-lines of the houses opposite stood out abruptly. His hands were
+in his pockets, and, to a light beat of the foot, he hummed softly to
+himself, but what, he could not have told: whether some fragment of
+melody that had lingered in a niche of his brain and now came to his
+lips, or whether a mere audible expression of his mood. The strong,
+unreal sun of the afternoon was just beginning to reach the house; it
+slanted in, golden, by the side of the window, and threw on the wall
+above the piano, a single long bar of light.
+
+He leaned over and looked down into the street far below--still no one
+there! But it was only half-past four. He stretched himself long and
+luxuriously, as if, by doing so, he would get rid of a restlessness
+which arose from repressed physical energy, and also from an
+impatience to be more keenly conscious of life, to feel it, as it
+were, quicken in him, not unakin to that passionate impulse towards
+perfection, which, out-of-doors, was urging on the sap and loosening
+firm green buds: he had a day's imprisonment behind him, and all
+spring's magic was at work to ferment his blood. How small and close
+the room was! He leaned out on the sill, as far out as he could, in
+the sun. It was shining full down the street now, gilding the
+canal-like river at the foot, and throwing over the tall, dingy houses
+on the opposite side, a tawdry brightness, which, unlike that of the
+morning with its suggestion of dewy shade, only served to bring out
+the shabbiness of broken plaster and paintless window; a shamefaced
+yet aggressive shabbiness, where high-arched doorways and wide entries
+spoke to better days, and also to a subsequent decay, now openly
+admitted in the little placards which dotted them here and there,
+bearing the bold-typed words GARCON LOGIS, and dangling bravely
+yellow from the windows of the cheap lodgings they proclaimed vacant.
+It was very still; the hoarse voice of a fruit-seller crying his wares
+in the adjoining streets, was to be heard at intervals, but each time
+less distinctly, and from the distance came the faint tones of a
+single piano. How different it was in the morning! Then, if, pausing a
+moment from his work, he opened the window and leaned out for a brief
+refreshment, what a delightful confusion of sounds met his ear! Pianos
+rolled noisily up and down, ploughing one through the other, beating
+one against the other, key to key, rhythm to rhythm, each in a
+clamorous despair at being unable to raise its voice above the rest,
+at having to form part of this jumble of discord: some so near at hand
+or so directly opposite that, none the less, it was occasionally
+possible to follow them through the persistent reiterations of a
+fugue, or through some brilliant glancing ETUDE, the notes of which
+flew off like sparks; others, further away, of which were audible only
+the convulsive treble outbursts and the toneless rumblings of the
+bass, now and then cut shrilly through by the piercing sharpness of a
+violin, now and then, at quieter moments, borne up and accompanied by
+the deep, guttural tones of a neighbouring violoncello. This was
+always discovered at work upon scales, uncertain, hesitating scales on
+the lower strings, and, heard suddenly, after the other instruments'
+genial hubbub, it sounded like some inarticulate animal making uncouth
+attempts at expression. At rare intervals there came a lull, and then,
+before all burst forth again together, or fell in, one by one, a
+single piano or the violin would, like a solo voice in a symphony,
+bear the whole burden; or if the wind were in the west, it would
+sometimes carry over with it, from the woods on the left, the mournful
+notes of a French horn, which some unskilful player had gone out to
+practise.
+
+This was that new world of which he was now a part--into which he had
+been so auspiciously received.
+
+Yes, the beginning and the thousand petty disquiets that go with
+beginnings, were behind him; he had made a start, and he believed a
+good one--thanks to Dove. He was really grateful to Dove. A chance
+acquaintance, formed on one of those early days when he loitered,
+timid and unsure, about the BUREAU of the Conservatorium, Dove had
+taken him up with what struck even the grateful new-comer as
+extraordinary good-nature, going deliberately out of his way to be of
+service to him, meeting him at every turn with assistance and advice.
+It was Dove who had helped him over the embarrassments of the
+examination; it was through Dove's influence that he had obtained a
+private interview with Schwarz, and, in Dove's opinion, Schwarz was
+the only master in Leipzig under whom it was worth while to study; the
+only one who could be relied on to give the exhaustive TECHNIQUE that
+was indispensable, without, in the process, destroying what was of
+infinitely more account, the individuality, the TEMPERAMENT of the
+student. This and more, Dove set forth at some length in their
+conversations; then, warming to his work, he would go further: would
+go on to speak of phrasings and interpretations; of an artistic use of
+the pedals, and the legitimate participation of the emotions; of the
+confines of absolute music as touched in the Ninth Symphony: would
+refer incidentally to Schopenhauer and make Wagner his authority,
+using terms that were new to his hearer, and, now and then, by way of
+emphasis, bringing his palm down flat and noiselessly upon the
+table.--It had not taken them long to become friends;
+fellow-countrymen, of the same age, with similar aims and interests,
+they had soon slipped into one of the easy-going friendships of youth.
+
+A quarter to five! As the strokes from the neighbouring church--clock
+died away, the melody of Siegfried's horn was whistled up from the
+street, and looking over, Maurice saw his friend. He seized his music
+and went hastily down the four flights of stairs.
+
+They crossed the river and came to newer streets. It was delightful
+out-of-doors. A light breeze met them as they turned, and a few
+ragged, fleecy clouds that it was driving up, only made the sky seem
+bluer, The two young men walked leisurely, laughing and talking rather
+loudly. Maurice Guest had already, in dress and bearing, taken on a
+touch of musicianly disorder, but Dove's lengthier residence had left
+no trace upon him; he might have stepped that day from the streets of
+the provincial English town to which he belonged. His well brushed
+clothes sat with an easy inelegance, his tie was small, his linen
+clean, and the only concession he made to his surroundings, the
+broad-brimmed, soft felt hat, looked oddly out of place on his
+close-cut hair. He carried himself erectly, swinging a little on his
+hips.
+
+As they went, he passed in review the important items of the day:
+so-and-so had strained a muscle, so-and-so had spoilt a second piano.
+But his particular interest centred upon that evening's
+ABENDUNTERHALTUNG. A man named Schilsky, whom it was no
+exaggeration to call their finest, very finest violinist was to play
+Vieuxtemps' Concerto in D. Dove all but smacked his lips as he spoke
+of it. In reply to a query from Maurice, he declared with vehemence
+that this Schilsky was a genius. Although so great a violinist, he
+could play almost every other instrument with case; his memory had
+become a by-word; his compositions were already famous. At the present
+moment, he was said to be at work upon a symphonic poem, having for
+its base a new and extraordinary book, half poetry, half philosophy, a
+book which he, Dove, could confidently assert, would effect a
+revolution in human thought, but of which, just at the minute, he was
+unable to remember the name. Infected by his friend's enthusiasm,
+Maurice here recalled having, only the day before, met some one who
+answered to Dove's description: the genial Pole had been storming up
+the steps of the Conservatorium, two at a time, with wild, affrighted
+eyes, and a halo of dishevelled auburn hair.--Dove made no doubt that
+he had been seized with a sudden inspiration.
+
+Gewandhaus and Conservatorium lay close together, in a new quarter of
+the town. The Conservatorium, a handsome, stone-faced building, three
+lofty storeys high, was just now all the more imposing in appearance
+as it stood alone in an unfinished street-block, and as, opposite,
+hoardings still shut in all that had yet been raised of the great
+library, which would eventually overshadow it. The severe plainness of
+its long front, with the unbroken lines of windows, did not fail to
+impress the unused beholder, who had not for very long gone daily out
+and in; it suggested to him the earnest, unswerving efforts,
+imperative on his pursuit of the ideal; an ideal which, to many, was
+as it were personified by the concert-house in the adjoining square:
+it was hither, towards this clear-limned goal, that bore him, like a
+magic carpet, the young enthusiast's most ambitious dream.--But in the
+life that swarmed about the Conservatorium, there was nothing of a
+tedious austerity. It was one of the briskest times of day, and the
+short street and the steps of the building were alive with young
+people of both sexes. Young men sauntered to and from the cafe at the
+corner, or stood gesticulating in animated groups. All alike were
+conspicuous for a rather wilful slovenliness, for smooth faces and
+bushy hair, while the numerous girls, with whom they paused to laugh
+and trifle, were, for the most part, showy in dress and loudly
+vivacious in manner. On the kerbstone, a knot of the latter, tittering
+among themselves, shot furtive glances at Dove and Maurice as
+they passed. Here, a pretty, laughing face was the centre of a little
+circle; there, a bevy of girls clustered about a young man, who, his
+hands in his pockets, leaned carelessly against the door-arch; and
+again, another, plump and much befeathered, with a string of large
+pearlbeads round her fat, white neck, had isolated herself from the
+rest, to take up, on the steps, a more favourable stand. A master who
+went by, a small, jovial man in a big hat, had a word for all the
+girls, even a chuck of the chin for one unusually saucy face. Inside,
+classes were filing out of the various rooms, other classes were going
+in; there was a noisy flocking up and down the broad, central
+staircase, i crowding about the notice-board, a going and coming in
+the long, stone corridors. The concert-hall was being lighted.
+
+Maurice slowly made his way through the midst of all these people,
+while Dove loitered, or stepped out of hearing, with one friend after
+another. In a side corridor, off which, cell like, opened a line of
+rooms, they pushed a pair of doubledoors, and went in to take their
+lesson.
+
+The room they entered was light and high, and contained, besides a
+couple of grand pianos, a small table and a row of wooden chairs.
+Schwarz stood with his back to the window, biting his nails. He was a
+short, thickset man, with keen eyes, and a hard, prominent mouth,
+which was rather emphasised than concealed, by the fair, scanty tuft
+of hair that hung from his chin. Upon the two new-comers, he bent a
+cold, deliberate gaze, which, for some instants, he allowed to rest
+chillingly on them, then as deliberately withdrew, having--so at least
+it seemed to those who were its object--having, without the tremor of
+an eyelid, scanned them like an open page: it was the look,
+impenetrable, all-seeing, of the physician for his patient. At the
+piano, a young man was playing the Waldstein Sonata. So intent was he
+on what he was doing, that his head all but touched the music standing
+open before him, while his body, bent thus double, swayed vigorously
+from side to side. His face was crimson, and on his forehead stood out
+beads of perspiration. He had no cuffs on, and his sleeves were a
+little turned back. The movement at an end, he paused, and drawing a
+soiled handkerchief from his pocket, passed it rapidly over neck and
+brow. In the ADAGIO which followed, he displayed an extreme delicacy
+of touch--not, however, but what this also cost him some exertion, for,
+previous to the striking of each faint, soft note, his hand described
+a curve in the air, the finger he was about to use, lowered,
+the others slightly raised, and there was always a second of something
+like suspense, before it finally sank upon the expectant note. But
+suddenly, without warning, just as the last, lingering tones were
+dying to the close they sought, the ADAGIO slipped over into the
+limpid gaiety of the RONDO, and then, there was no time more for
+premeditation: then his hands twinkled up and down, joining, crossing,
+flying asunder, alert with little sprightly quirks and turns, going
+ever more nimbly, until the brook was a river, the allegretto a
+prestissimo, which flew wildly to its end amid a shower of dazzling
+trills.
+
+Schwarz stood grave and apparently impassive; from time to time,
+however, when unobserved, he swept the three listeners with a rapid
+glance. Maurice Guest was quite carried away; he had never heard
+playing like this, and he leaned forward in his seat, and gazed full
+at the player, in open admiration. But his neighbour, a pale, thin
+man, with one of those engaging and not uncommon faces which, in mould
+of feature, in mildness of expression, and still more in the cut of
+hair and beard, bear so marked a likeness to the conventional
+Christ-portrait: this neighbour looked on with only a languid
+interest, which seemed unable to get the upper hand of melancholy
+thoughts. Maurice, who believed his feelings shared by all about him,
+was chilled by such indifference: he only learned later, after they
+had become friends, that nothing roused in Boehmer a real or lasting
+interest, save what he, Boehmer, did himself. Dove sat absorbed, as
+reverent as if at prayer; but there were also moments when, with his
+head a little on one side, he wore an anxious air, as if not fully at
+one with the player's rendering; others again, after a passage of
+peculiar brilliancy, when he threw at Schwarz a humbly grateful look.
+While Schwarz, the sonata over, was busy with his pencil on the margin
+of the music, Dove leaned over to Maurice and whispered behind his
+hand: "Furst--our best pianist."
+
+Now came the turn of the others, and the master's attention wandered;
+he stretched himself, yawned, and sighed aloud, then, in the search
+for something he could not find, turned out on the lid of the second
+piano the contents of sundry pockets. While Dove played, he wrote as
+if for life in a bulky notebook.
+
+Maurice remarked this without being properly conscious of it, so
+impressed had he been by the sonata. The exultant beauty of the
+great final theme had permeated his every fibre, inciting him,
+emboldening him, and, still under the sway of this little elation when
+his own turn to play came, he was the richer by it, and acquitted
+himself with unusual verve.
+
+As the class was about to leave the room, Schwarz signed to Maurice to
+remain behind. For several moments, he paced the floor in silence;
+then he stopped suddenly short in front of the young man, and, with
+legs apart, one hand at his back, he said in a tone which wavered
+between being brutal and confidential, emphasising his words with a
+series of smart pencil-raps on his hearer's shoulder:
+
+"Let me tell you something: if I were not of the opinion that you had
+ability, I should not detain you this evening. It is no habit of mine,
+mark this, to interfere with my pupils. Outside this room, most of
+them do not exist for me. In your case, I am making an exception,
+because . . ."--Maurice was here so obviously gratified that the
+speaker made haste to substitute: "because I should much like to know
+how it is that you come to me in the state you do." And without
+waiting for a reply: "For you know nothing, or, let us say, worse than
+nothing, since what you do know, you must make it your first concern
+to forget." He paused, and the young man's face fell so much that he
+prolonged the pause, to enjoy the discomfiture he had produced. "But
+give me time," he continued, "adequate time, and I will undertake to
+make something of you." He lowered his voice, and the taps became more
+confidential. "There is good stuff here; you have talent, great
+talent, and, as I have observed to-day, you are not wanting in
+intelligence. But," and again his voice grew harsher, his eye more
+piercing, "understand me, if you please, no trifling with other
+studies; let us have no fiddling, no composing. Who works with me,
+works for me alone. And a lifetime, I repeat it, a lifetime, is not
+long enough to master such an instrument as this!"
+
+He brought his hand down heavily on the lid of the piano, and glared
+at Maurice as if he expected the latter to contradict him. Then,
+noisily clearing his throat, he began anew to pace the room.
+
+As Maurice stood waiting for his dismissal, with very varied feelings,
+of which, however, a faint pride was uppermost; as he stood waiting,
+the door opened, and a girl looked in. She hesitated a moment, then
+entered, and going up to Schwarz, asked him something in a low voice.
+He nodded an assent, nodded two or three times, and with quite
+another face; its hitherto unmoved severity had given way to an
+indulgent friendliness. She laid her hat and jacket on the table, and
+went to the piano.
+
+Schwarz motioned Maurice to a chair. He sat down almost opposite her.
+
+And now came for him one of those moments in life, which,
+unlooked-for, undivined, send before them no promise of being
+different, in any way, from the commonplace moments that make up the
+balance of our days. No gently graduated steps lead up to them: they
+are upon us with the violent abruptness of a streak of lightning, and
+like this, they, too, may leave behind them a scarry trace. What such
+a moment holds within it, is something which has never existed for us
+before, something it has never entered our minds to go out and
+seek--the corner of earth, happened on by chance, which comes most near
+the Wineland of our dreams; the page, idly perhaps begun, which brings
+us a new god; the face of the woman who is to be our fate--but,
+whatever it may be, let it once exist for us, and the soul responds
+forthwith, catching in blind haste at the dimly missed ideal.
+
+For one instant Maurice Guest had looked at the girl before him with
+unconcern, but the next it was with an intentness that soon became
+intensity, and feverishly grew, until he could not tear his eyes away.
+The beauty, whose spell thus bound him, was of that subtle kind which
+leaves many a one cold, but, as if just for this reason, is almost
+always fateful for those who feel its charm: at them is lanced its
+accumulated force. The face was far from faultless; there was no
+regularity of feature, no perfection of line, nor was there more than
+a touch of the sweet girlish freshness that gladdens like a morning in
+May. The features, save for a peremptory turn of mouth and chin, were
+unremarkable, and the expression was distant, unchanging . . . but
+what was that to him? This deep white skin, the purity of which was
+only broken by the pale red of the lips; this dull black hair, which
+lay back from the low brow in such wonderful curves, and seemed, of
+itself, to fall into the loose knot on the neck--there was something
+romantic, exotic about her, which was unlike anything he had ever
+seen: she made him think of a rare, hothouse flower; some scentless,
+tropical flower, with stiff, waxen petals. And then her eyes! So
+profound was their darkness that, when they threw off their covering
+of heavy lid, it seemed to his excited fancy as if they must
+scorch what they rested on; they looked out from the depths of their
+setting like those of a wild beast crouched within a cavern; they lit
+up about them like stars, and when they fell, they went out like
+stars, and her face took on the pallor of early dawn.
+
+She was playing from memory. She gazed straight before her with
+far-away eyes, which only sometimes looked down at her hands, to aid
+them in a difficult passage. At her belt, she wore a costly yellow
+rose, and as she once leaned towards the treble, where both hands were
+at work close together, it fell to the floor. Maurice started forward,
+and picking it up, laid it on the piano; beneath the gaslight, it sank
+a shadowy gold image in the mirror-like surface. As yet she had paid
+no heed to him, but, at this, she turned her head, and, still
+continuing to play, let her eyes rest absently on him.
+
+They sank their eyes in each other's. A thrill ran through Maurice, a
+quick, sharp thrill, which no sensation of his later life outdid in
+keenness and which, on looking back, he could always feel afresh. The
+colour rose to his face and his heart beat audibly, but he did not
+lower his eyes, and for not doing so, seemed to himself infinitely
+bold. A host of confused feelings bore down upon him, well-nigh
+blotting out the light; but, in a twinkling, all were swallowed up in
+an overpowering sense of gratitude, in a large, vague, happy
+thankfulness, which touched him almost to the point of tears. As it
+swelled through him and possessed him, he yearned to pour it forth, to
+make an offering of this gratefulness--fine tangle of her beauty and
+his own glad mood--and, by sustaining her look, he seemed to lay the
+offering at her feet. Nor would any tongue have persuaded him that she
+did not understand. The few seconds were eternities: when she turned
+away it was as if untold hours had passed over him in a body, like a
+flight of birds; as if a sudden gulf had gaped between where he now
+was and where he had previously stood.
+
+Dismissed curtly, with a word, he hung about the corridor in the hope
+of seeing her again; but the piano went on and on, unceasingly. Here,
+after some time, he was found by Dove, who carried him off with loud
+expressions of surprise.
+
+The concert was more than half over. The main part of the hall was
+brightly lit and full of people: from behind, one looked across a sea
+of heads. On the platform at the other end, a girl in red was playing
+a sonata; a master sat by her side, and leant forward, at regular
+intervals, to turn the leaves of the music. Dove and Maurice
+remained standing at the back, under the gallery, among a portion of
+the audience which shifted continuously: those about them wandered in
+and out of the hall at pleasure, now inside, head in hand, critically
+intent, now out in the vestibule, stretching their legs, lounging in
+easy chat. In the pause that followed the sonata, Dove went towards
+the front, to join some ladies who beckoned him, and, while some one
+sang a noisy aria, Maurice gave himself up to his own thoughts. They
+all led to the same point: how he should contrive to see her again,
+how he should learn her name, and, beside them, everything else seemed
+remote, unreal; he saw the people next him as if from a distance. But
+in a wait that was longer than usual, he was awakened to his
+surroundings: a stir ran over the audience, like a gust of wind over
+still water; the heads in the seats before him inclined one to
+another, wagged and nodded; there was a gentle buzz of voices. Behind
+him, the doors opened and shut, letting in all who were outside: they
+pressed forward expectantly. On his left, a row of girls tried to
+start a round of applause and tittered nervously at their failure.
+Schilsky had come down the platform and commenced tuning. He bent his
+long, thin body as he pressed his violin to his knee, and his reddish
+hair fell over his face. The accompanist, his hands on the keys,
+waited for the signal to begin.
+
+Maurice drew a deep breath of anticipation. But the first shrill,
+sweet notes had hardly cut the silence, when, the door opening once
+more, some one entered and pushed through the standing crowd. He
+looked round, uneasy at the disturbance, and found that it was she:
+what is more, she came up to his very side. He turned away so hastily
+that he touched her arm, causing it to yield a little, and some
+moments went by before he ventured to look again. When he did, in some
+tremor, he saw that, without fear of discovery, he might look as long
+or as often as he chose. She was listening to the player with the
+raptness of a painted saint: her whole face listened, the tightened
+lips, the open nostrils, the wide, vigilant eyes. Maurice, lost in her
+presence, grew dizzy with the scent of her hair--that indefinable
+odour, which has something of the raciness in it of new-turned
+earth--and foolish wishes arose and jostled one another in his mind: he
+would have liked to plunge both hands into the dark, luxuriant mass;
+still better, cautiously to draw his palm down this whitest skin,
+which, seen so near, had a faint, satin-like sheen. The mere
+imagining of it set him throbbing, and the excitement in his blood was
+heightened by the sensuous melancholy of the violin, which, just
+beyond the pale of his consciousness, throbbed and languished with him
+under the masterful bow.
+
+Shortly before the end of the concerto, she turned and made her way
+out. Maurice let a few seconds elapse, then followed. But the long
+white corridors stretched empty before him; there was no trace of her
+to he seen. As he was peering about, in places that were strange to
+him, a tumult of applause shook the hall, the doors flew open and the
+audience poured out.
+
+Dove had joined other friends, and a number of them left the building
+together; everyone spoke loudly and at once. But soon Maurice and Dove
+outstepped their companions, for these came to words over the means
+used by Schilsky to mount, with bravour, a certain gaudy scale of
+octaves, and, at every second pace, they stopped, and wheeled round
+with eloquent gesture. In their presence Dove had said little; now he
+gave rein to his feelings: his honest face glowed with enthusiasm, the
+names of renowned players ran off his lips like beads off a string,
+and, in predicting Schilsky a career still more brilliant, his voice
+grew husky with emotion.
+
+Maurice listened unmoved to his friend's outpouring, and the first
+time Dove stopped for breath, went straight for the matter which, in
+his eyes, had dwarfed all others. So eager was he to learn something
+of her, that he even made shift to describe her; his attempt fell out
+lamely, and a second later he could have bitten off his tongue.
+
+Dove had only half an ear for him.
+
+"Eh? What? What do you say?" he asked as Maurice paused; but his
+thoughts were plainly elsewhere. This fact is, just at this moment, he
+was intent on watching some ladies: were they going to notice him or
+not? The bow made and returned, he brought his mind back to Maurice
+with a great show of interest.
+
+Here, however, they all turned in to Seyffert's Cafe and, seating
+themselves at a long, narrow table, waited for Schilsky, whom they
+intended to fete. But minutes passed, a quarter, then half of an hour,
+and still he did not come. To while the time, his playing of the
+concerto was roundly commented and discussed. There was none of the
+ten or twelve young men but had the complete jargon of the craft at
+his finger-tips; not one, too, but was rancorous and admiring in a
+breath, now detecting flaws as many as motes in a beam, now
+heaping praise. The spirited talk, flying thus helter-skelter through
+the gamut of opinion, went forward chiefly in German, which the
+foreigners of the party spoke with various accents, but glibly enough;
+only now and then did one of them spring over to his mother-tongue, to
+fetch a racy idiom or point a joke.
+
+Not having heard a note of Schilsky's playing, Maurice did not trust
+himself to say much, and so was free to observe his right-hand
+neighbour, a young man who had entered late, and taken a vacant chair
+beside him. To the others present, the new-comer paid no heed, to
+Maurice he murmured an absent greeting, and then, having called for
+beer and emptied his glass at a draught, he appeared mentally to
+return whence he had come, or to engage without delay in some urgent
+train of thought. His movements were noiseless, but startlingly
+abrupt. Thus, after sitting quiet for a time, his head in his hands,
+he flung back in his seat with a sort of wildness, and began to stare
+fixedly at the ceiling. His face was one of those, which, as by a
+mystery, preserve the innocent beauty of their childhood, long after
+childhood is a thing of the past: delicate as the rosy lining of a
+great sea-shell was the colour that spread from below the forked blue
+veins of the temples, and it paled and came again as readily as a
+girl's. Girlish, too, were the limpid eyes, which, but for a trick of
+dropping unexpectedly, seemed always to be gazing, in thoughtful
+surprise, at something that was visible to them alone. As to the
+small, frail body, it existed only for sake of the hands: narrow
+hands, with long, fleshless fingers, nervous hands, that were never
+still.
+
+All at once, in a momentary lull, he leant towards Maurice, and,
+without even looking up, asked the latter if he could recall the
+opening bars of the prelude to TRISTAN UND ISOLDE. If so, there was a
+certain point he would like to lay before him.
+
+"You see, it's this way, old fellow," he said confidentially. "I've
+come to the conclusion that if, at the end of the third bar, Wagner
+had----"
+
+"Throw him out, throw him out!" cried an American who was sitting
+opposite them. "You might as well try to stop a nigger in heat as
+Krafft on Wagner."
+
+"That's so," said another American named Ford, who, on arriving, had
+not been quite sober, and now, after a few glasses of beer, was
+exceedingly tipsy. "That's so. As I've always said, it's a disgrace to
+the township, a disgrace, sir. Ought to be put down. Why don't he
+write them himself?"
+
+From the depths of his brown study, Krafft looked vaguely at the
+speakers, and checked, but not discomposed, drew out a notebook and
+jotted down an idea.
+
+Meanwhile, at the far end of the table, Boehmer and a Russian
+violinist still harped upon the original string. And, having worked
+out Schilsky, they passed on to Zeppelin, his master, and the Russian,
+who was not Zeppelin's pupil, set to showing with vehemence that his
+"method" was a worthless one. He was barely started when a wiry
+American, in a high, grating voice, called Schilsky a wretched fool:
+why had he not gone to Berlin at Easter, as he had planned, instead of
+dawdling on here where he had no more to gain? At this, several of the
+young men laughed and looked significant. Furst--he had proved to be a
+jolly little man, who, with unbuttoned vest, absorbed large quantities
+of beer and perspired freely--Furst alone was of the opinion, which he
+expressed forcibly, in his hearty Saxon dialect, that had Schilsky
+left Leipzig at this particular time, he would have been a fool
+indeed.
+
+"Look here, boys," he cried, pounding the table to get attention.
+"That's all very well, but he must have an eye to the practical side
+of things, too----"
+
+"DER BIEDERE SACHSE HOCH!" threw in Boehmer, who was Prussian, and of
+a more ideal cast of mind.
+
+"--and a chance such as this, he will certainly never have again. A
+hundred thousand marks, if a pfennig, and a face to turn after in the
+street! No, he is a confounded deal wiser to stay here and make sure
+of her, for that sort is as slippery as an eel."
+
+"Krafft can tell us; he let her go; is she?--is it true?" shouted half
+a dozen.
+
+Krafft looked up and winked. His reply was so gross and so witty that
+there was a very howl of mirth.
+
+"KRAFFT HOCH, HOCH KRAFFT!" they cried, and roared again, until the
+proprietor, a mild, round-faced man, who was loath to meddle with his
+best customers, advanced to the middle of the floor, where he stood
+smiling uneasily and rubbing his hands.
+
+But it was growing late.
+
+"Why the devil doesn't he come?" yawned Boehmer.
+
+Perhaps," said Dove, mouthing deliberately as if he had a good
+thing on his tongue; perhaps, by now, he is safe in the arms of----"
+
+"Jesus or Morpheus?" asked a cockney 'cellist.
+
+"Safe in the arms of Jesus!" sang the tipsy pianist; but he was
+outsung by Krafft, who, rising from his seat, gave with dramatic
+gesture:
+
+O sink' hernieder,
+Nacht der Liebe,
+gieb Vergessen,
+dass ich lebe . . .
+
+After this, with much laughter and ado, they broke up to seek another
+cafe in the heart of the town, where the absinthe was good and the
+billiard-table better, two of his friends supporting Ford, who was
+testily debating with himself why a composer should compose his own
+works. At the first corner, Maurice whispered a word to Dove, and,
+unnoticed by the rest, slipped away. For some time, he heard the sound
+of their voices down the quiet street. A member of the group, in
+defiance of the night, began to sing; and then, just as one bird is
+provoked by another, rose a clear, sweet voice he recognised as
+Krafft's, in a song the refrain of which was sung by all:
+
+Give me the Rose of Sharon,
+And a bottle of Cyprus wine!
+
+What followed was confused, indistinct, but over and over again he
+heard:
+
+. . . the Rose of Sharon,
+. . . a bottle of Cyprus wine!
+
+until that, too, was lost in the distance.
+
+When he reached his room, he did not light the lamp, but crossed to
+the window and stood looking out into the darkness. The day's
+impressions, motley as the changes of a kaleidoscope, seethed in his
+brain, clamoured to be recalled and set in order; but he kept them
+back; he could not face the task. He felt averse to any mental effort,
+in need of a repose as absolute as the very essence of silence itself.
+The sky was overcast; a wayward breeze blew coolly in upon him and
+refreshed him; a few single raindrops fell. In the air a gentle
+melancholy was abroad, and, as he stood there, wax for any
+passing mood, it descended on him and enveloped him. He gave himself
+up to it, unresistingly, allowed himself to toy with it, to sink
+beneath it. Just, however, as he was sinking, sinking, he was roused,
+suddenly, as from sleep, by the vivid presentiment that something was
+about to happen to him: it seemed as if an important event were
+looming in the near distance, ready to burst in upon his life, and not
+only instantly, but with a monstrous crash of sound. His pulses beat
+more quickly, his nerves stretched, like bows. But it was very still;
+everything around him slept, and the streets were deserted.
+
+A keen sense of desolation came over him; never, in his life, had he
+felt so utterly alone. In all this great city that spread, ocean-like,
+around him, not a heart was the lighter for his being there. Oh, to
+have some one beside him!--some one who would talk soothingly to him,
+of shadowy, far-off things, or, still better, be merely a sympathetic
+presence. He passed rapidly in review people he had known, saw their
+faces and heard their voices, but not one of them would do. No, he
+wanted a friend, the friend he had often dreamed of, whose thoughts
+would be his thoughts, with whom there would be no need of speech.
+Then his longing swelled, grew fiercer and more undefined, and a
+sudden burst of energy convulsed him and struggled to find vent. His
+breath came hard, and he stretched his arms out into the night,
+uncertainly, as if to grasp something he did not see; but they fell to
+his side again. He would have liked to sweep through the air, to feel
+the wind rushing dizzily through him; or to be set down before some
+feat that demanded the strength of a Titan--anything, no matter what,
+to be rid of the fever in his veins. But it beset him, again and
+again, only by slow degrees weakening and dying away.
+
+A bitter moisture sprang to his eyes. Leaning his head on his arms, he
+endeavoured to call up her face. But it was of no use, though he
+strained every nerve; for some time he could see only the rose that
+had lain beside her on the piano, and in the troubled image that at
+last crowned his patience, her eyes looked out, like jewels, from a
+setting of golden petals.
+
+Lying wakeful in the darkness, he saw them more clearly. Now, though,
+they had a bluish light, were like moons, moons that burnt. If he lit
+the lamp and tried to read, they got between him and the book, and
+danced up and down the pages, with jerky, clockwork movements, like
+stage fireflies. He put the light out, and lay staring vacantly
+at the pale square of the window. And then, just when he was least
+expecting it, he saw the whole face, so close to him and so
+distinctly, that he started up on his elbow; and in the second or two
+it remained--a Medusa-face, opaquely white, with deep, unfathomable
+eyes--he recognised, with a shock, that his peace of mind was gone;
+that the sudden experience of a few hours back had given his life new
+meaning; that something had happened to him which could not be undone;
+in other words--with an incredulous gasp at his own folly--that he was
+head over ears in love.
+
+Through the uneasy sleep into which he ultimately fell, she, and the
+yellow rose, and the Rose of Sharon--a giant flower, with monstrous
+crimson petals--passed and repassed, in one of those glorious tangles,
+which no dreamer has ever unravelled.
+
+When he wakened, it was broad daylight, and things wore a different
+aspect. Not that his impression of the night had faded, but it was
+forced to retire behind the hard, clear affairs of the morning. He got
+up, full of vigour, impatient to be at work, and having breakfasted,
+sat down at the piano, where he remained until his hands dropped from
+the keys with fatigue. Throughout these hours, his mind ran chiefly on
+the words Schwarz had said to him, the previous evening. They rose
+before him in their full significance, and he leisurely chewed the
+honeyed cud of praise. "I will undertake to make something of you,
+undertake to make something of you"--his brain tore the phrase to
+tatters. "Something" was properly vague, as praise should be, and
+allowed the imagination free scope. Under the stimulus, everything
+came easy; he mastered a passage of bound sixths that had baffled him
+for days. And in this elated frame of mind, there was something almost
+pleasurable in the pang with which he would become conscious of a
+shadow in the background, a spot on his sun to make him unhappy.
+
+Unhappy?--no: it gave a zest to his goings--out and comings-in. Through
+long hours of work he was borne up by an ardent hope: afterwards, he
+might see her. It made the streets exciting places of possible
+surprises. Might she not, at any moment, turn the corner and be before
+him? Might she not, this very instant, be going in the same direction
+as he, in the next street? But a very little of this pleasant dallying
+with chance was enough. One morning, when the houses opposite
+were ablaze with sunshine, and he had settled down to practice with a
+keen relish for the obstacles to be overcome; on this morning, within
+half an hour, his mood swung round to the other extreme, and, from now
+on, his desire to see her again was a burning unrest, which roused him
+from sleep, and drove him out, at odd hours, no matter what he was
+doing. Moodily he scoured the streets round the Conservatorium,
+disconcerted by his own folly, and pricked incessantly by the
+consciousness of time wasted. A companion at his side might have
+dispelled the cobwebs; but Dove, his only friend, he avoided, for the
+reason that Dove's unfailing good spirits needed to be met with a
+similiar mood. And as for speaking of the matter, the mere thought of
+the detailed explanation that would now be necessary, did he open his
+lips, filled him with dismay. When four or five days had gone by in
+this manner, without result, he took to hanging about, with other
+idlers, on the steps of the Conservatorium, always hoping that she
+would suddenly emerge from the doors behind him, or come towards him,
+a roll of music in her hand.
+
+But she never came.
+
+One afternoon, however, as he loitered there, he encountered his
+acquaintance of the very first day. He recognised her while she was
+still some distance off, by her peculiar springy gait; at each step,
+she rose slightly on the front part of her foot, as if her heels were
+on springs. As before, she was indifferently dressed; a small, close
+hat came down over her face and hid her forehead; her skirt seemed
+shrunken, and hung limp about her ankles, accentuating the
+straightness of her figure. But below the brim of the hat her eyes
+were as bright as ever, and took note of all that happened. On seeing
+Maurice, she professed to remember him "perfectly," beginning to speak
+before she had quite come up to him.
+
+The following day they met once more at the same place. This time, she
+raised her eyebrows.
+
+"You here again?" she said.
+
+She disappeared inside the building; but a few minutes later returned,
+and said she was going for a walk: would he come, too?
+
+He assented, with grateful surprise, and they set off together in the
+direction of the woods, as briskly as though they were on an errand.
+But when they had crossed the suspension-bridge and reached the
+quieter paths that ran through the NONNE, they simultaneously
+slackened their pace. The luxuriant undergrowth of shrub, which filled
+in, like lacework, the spaces between the tree-trunks, was sprinkled
+with its first dots and pricks of green, and the afternoon was
+pleasant for walking--sunless and still, and just a little fragrantly
+damp from all the rife budding and sprouting. It was a day to further
+a friendship more effectually than half a dozen brighter ones; a day
+on which to speak out thoughts which a June sky, the indiscreet
+playing of full sunlight, even the rustling of the breeze in the
+leaves might scare, like fish, from the surface.
+
+When they had laughingly introduced themselves to each other Maurice
+Guest's companion talked about herself, with a frankness that left
+nothing to be desired, and impressed the young man at her side very
+agreeably. Before they had gone far, he knew all about her. Her name
+was Madeleine Wade; she came from a small town in Leicestershire, and,
+except for a step-brother, stood alone in the world. For several
+years, she had been a teacher in a large school near London, and the
+position was open for her to return to, when she had completed this,
+the final year of her course. Then, however, she would devote herself
+exclusively to the teaching of music, and, with this in view, she had
+here taken up as many branches of study as she had time for. Besides
+piano, which was her chief subject, she learned singing, organ,
+counterpoint, and the elements of the violin.
+
+"So much is demanded nowadays," she said in her dear soprano. "And if
+you want to get on, it doesn't do to be behindhand. Of course, it
+means hard work, but that is nothing to me--I am used to work and love
+it. Since I was seventeen--I am twenty-six now--I can fairly say I have
+never got up in the morning, without having my whole day mapped and
+planned before me.--So you see idlers can have no place on my list of
+saints."
+
+She spoke lightly, yet with a certain under-meaning. As, however,
+Maurice Guest, on whom her words made a sympathetic impression, as of
+something strong and self-reliant--as he did not respond to it, she
+fell back on directness, and asked him what he had been doing when she
+met him, both on this day and the one before.
+
+"I tell you candidly, I was astonished to find you there again," she
+said. "As a rule, new-comers are desperately earnest brooms."
+
+His laugh was a trifle uneasy; and he answered evasively, not meaning
+to say much. But he had reckoned without the week of silence that lay
+behind him; it had been more of a strain than he knew, and his pent-up
+speech once set agoing could not be brought to a stop. An almost
+physical need of comunication made itself felt in him; he spoke with a
+volubility that was foreign to him, began his sentences with a
+confidential "You see," and said things at which he himself was
+amazed. He related impressions, not facts, and impressions which,
+until now, he had not been conscious of receiving; he told unguardedly
+of his plans and ambitions, and even went back and touched on his
+home-life, dwelling with considerable bitterness on the scant sympathy
+he had received.
+
+His companion looked at him curiously. She had expected a casual
+answer to her casual words, a surface frankness, such as she herself
+had shown, and, at first, she felt sceptical towards this unbidden
+confidence: she did not care for people who gave themselves away at a
+word; either they were naive to foolishness or inordinately vain. But
+having listened for some time to his outpourings, she began to feel
+reassured; and soon she understood that he was talking thus at random,
+merely because he was lonely and bottled-up. Before he had finished,
+she was even a little gratified by his openness, and on his confiding
+to her what Schwarz had said to him, she smiled indulgently.
+
+"Perhaps I took it to mean more than it actually did," said Maurice
+apologetically. "But anyhow it was cheering to hear it. You see, I
+must prove to the people at home that I was right and they were wrong.
+Failure was preached at me on every side. I was the only soul to
+believe in myself."
+
+"And you really disliked teaching so?"
+
+"Hated it with all my heart."
+
+She frankly examined him. He had a pale, longish face, with thin lips,
+which might indicate either narrow prejudice or a fanatic tenacity.
+When he grew animated, he had a habit of opening his eyes very wide,
+and of staring straight before him. At such moments, too, he tossed
+back his head, with the impatient movements of a young horse. His
+hands and feet were good, his clothes of a provincial cut. Her fingers
+itched to retie the bow of his cravat for him, to pull him here and
+there into shape. Altogether, he made the impression upon her of being
+a very young man: when he coloured, or otherwise grew embarrassed,
+under her steady gaze, she mentally put him down for less than
+twenty. But he had good manners; he allowed her to pass before him,
+where the way grew narrow; walked on the outside of the path; made
+haste to draw back an obstreperous branch; and not one of these
+trifling conventionalities was lost on Madeleine Wade.
+
+They had turned their steps homewards, and were drawing near the edge
+of the wood, when, through the tree-trunks, which here were bare and
+far apart, they saw two people walking arm in arm; and on turning a
+corner found the couple coming straight towards them, on the same path
+as themselves. In the full flush of his talk, Maurice Guest did not at
+first grasp what was about to happen. He had ended the sentence he was
+at, and begun another, before the truth broke on him. Then he
+stuttered, lost the thread of his thought, was abruptly silent; and
+what he had been going to say, and what, a moment before, had seemed
+of the utmost importance, was never said. His companion did not seem
+to notice his preoccupation; she gave an exclamation of what sounded
+like surprise, and herself looked steadily at the approaching pair.
+Thus they went forward to a meeting which the young man had imagined
+to himself in many ways, but not in this. The moment he had waited for
+had come; and now he wished himself miles away. Meanwhile, they walked
+on, in a brutal, matter-of-fact fashion, and at a fairish pace, though
+each step he took was an event, and his feet were as heavy and awkward
+as if they did not belong to him.
+
+The other two sauntered towards them, without haste. The man she was
+with had his arm through hers, her hand in his left hand, while in his
+right he twirled a cane. They were not speaking; she looked before
+her, rather listlessly, with dark, indifferent eyes. To see this, to
+see also that she was taller and broader than he had believed, and in
+full daylight somewhat sallow, Maurice had first to conquer an
+aversion to look at all, on account of the open familiarity of their
+attitude. It was not like this that he had dreamt of finding her. And
+so it happened that when, without a word to him, his companion crossed
+the path and confronted the other two, he only lingered for an
+instant, in an agony of indecision, and then, by an impulse over which
+he had no control, walked on and stood out of earshot.
+
+He drew a deep breath, like one who has escaped a danger; but almost
+simultaneously he bit his lip with mortification: could any power on
+earth make it clear to him why he had acted in this way? All
+his thoughts had been directed towards this moment for so long, only
+to take this miserable end. A string of contemptuous epithets for
+himself rose to his lips. But when he looked back at the group, the
+reason of his folly was apparent to him; at the sight of this other
+beside her, a sharp twinge of jealousy had run through him and
+disturbed his balance. He gazed ardently at her in the hope that she
+would look round, but it was only the man--he was caressing his slight
+moustache and hitting at loose stones while the girls talked--who
+turned, as if drawn by Maurice's stare, and looked full at him, with
+studied insolence. In him, Maurice recognised the violinist of the
+concert, but he, too, was taller than he had believed, and much
+younger. A mere boy, said Maurice to himself; a mere boy, with a
+disagreeable dissipated face.
+
+Madeleine Wade came hurrying to rejoin him, apologising for the delay;
+the meeting had, however, been fortunate, as she had had a message
+from Schwarz to deliver. Maurice let a few seconds elapse, then asked
+without preamble: "Who is that?"
+
+His companion looked quickly at him, struck both by his tone and by
+his unconscious use of the singular. The air of indifference with
+which he was looking out across the meadowland, told its own tale.
+
+"Schilsky? Don't you know Schilsky? Our Joachim IN SPE?" she asked, to
+tease him.
+
+Maurice Guest coloured. "Yes, I heard him play the other night," he
+answered in good faith. "But I didn't mean him. I meant the--the lady
+he was with."
+
+The girl at his side laughed, not very heartily.
+
+"ET TU, BRUTE!" she said. "I might have known it. It really is
+remarkable that though so many people don't think Louise goodlooking--I
+have often heard her called plain--yet I never knew a man go past her
+without turning his head.--You want to know who and what she is? Well,
+that depends on whom you ask. Schwarz would tell you she was one of
+his most gifted pupils--but no: he always says that of his pretty
+girls, and some do find her pretty, you know."
+
+"She is, indeed, very," said Maurice with warmth. "Though I think
+pretty is not just the word."
+
+"No, I don't suppose it is," said Madeleine, and this time there was a
+note of mockery in her laugh. But Maurice did not let himself be
+deterred. As it seemed likely that she was going to let the
+subject rest here, he persisted: "But suppose I asked you--what would
+you say?"
+
+She gave him a shrewd side-glance. "I think I won't tell you," she
+said, more gravely. "If a man has once thought a girl pretty, and all
+the rest of it, he's never grateful for the truth. If I said Louise
+was a baggage, or a minx, or some other horrid thing, you would always
+bear me a grudge for it, so please note, I don't say it--for we are
+going to be friends, I hope?"
+
+"I hope so, too," said the young man.
+
+They walked some distance along the unfinished end of the
+MOZARTSTRASSE, where only a few villas stood, in newly made gardens.
+
+"At least, I should like to know her name her whole name. You said
+Louise, I think?"
+
+She laughed outright at this. "Her name is Dufrayer, Louise Dufrayer,
+and she has been here studying with Schwarz for about a year and a
+half now. She has some talent, but is indolent to the last degree, and
+only works when she can't help it. Also she always has an admirer of
+some kind in tow. This, to-day, is her last particular friend.--Is that
+biographical matter enough?"
+
+He was afraid he had made himself ridiculous in her eyes, and did not
+answer. They walked the rest of the way in silence. At her house-door,
+they paused to take leave of each other.
+
+"Good-bye. Come and see me sometimes when you have time. We were once
+colleagues, you know, and are now fellow-pupils. I should be glad to
+help you if you ever need help."
+
+He thanked her and promised to remember; then walked home without,
+knowing how he did it. He had room in brain for one thought only; he
+knew her name, he knew her name. He said it again and again to
+himself, walked in time with it, and found it as heady as wine; the
+mere sound of the spoken syllables seemed to bring her nearer to him,
+to establish a mysterious connection between them. Moreover, in itself
+it pleased him extraordinarily; and he was vaguely grateful to
+something outside himself, that it was a name he could honestly
+admire.
+
+In a kind of defiant challenge to unseen powers, he doubled his arm
+and felt the muscles in it. Then he sat down at his piano, and, to the
+dismay of his landlady--for it was now late evening--practised for a
+couple of hours without stopping. And the scales he sent flying
+up and down in the darkness had a ring of exultation in them, were
+like cries of triumph.
+
+He had discovered the "Open Sesame" to his treasure. And there was
+time and to spare. He left everything to the future, in blind trust
+that it would bring him good fortune. It was enough that they were
+here together, inhabitants of the same town. Besides, he had formed a
+friendship with some one who knew her; a way would surely open up, in
+which he might make her aware of his presence. In the meantime, it was
+something to live for. Each day that dawned might be THE day.
+
+But little by little, like a fountain run dry, his elation subsided,
+and, as he lay sleepless, he had a sudden fit of jealous despair. He
+remembered, with a horrid distinctness, how he had seen her. Again she
+came towards them, at the other's side, hand in hand with him,
+inattentive to all but him. Now he could almost have wept at the
+recollection. Those clasped hands!--he could have forgiven everything
+else, but the thought of these remained with him and stung him. Here
+he lay, thinking wild and foolish things, building castles that had no
+earthly foundation, and all the time it was another who had the right
+to be with her, to walk at her side, and share her thoughts. Again he
+was the outsider; behind these two was a life full of detail and
+circumstance, of which he knew nothing. His excited brain called up
+pictures, imagined fiercely at words and looks, until the darkness and
+stillness of the room became unendurable; and he sprang up, threw on
+his clothing, and went out. Retracing his steps, he found the very
+spot where they had met. Guiltily, with a stealthy look round him,
+though wood and night were black as ink, he knelt down and kissed the
+gravel where he thought she had stood.
+
+
+
+
+IV.
+
+
+
+It was through Dove's agency--Dove was always on the spot to guide and
+assist his friends; to advise where the best, or cheapest, or rarest,
+of anything was to be had, from secondhand Wagner scores to hair
+pomade; he knew those shops where the "half-quarters" of ham or
+roast-beef weighed heavier than elsewhere, restaurants where the beer
+had least froth and the cutlets were largest for the money; knew the
+ins and outs of Leipzig as no other foreigner did, knew all that went
+on, and the affairs of everybody, as though he went through life
+garnering in just those little facts that others were apt to overlook.
+Through Dove, Maurice became a paying guest at a dinner-table kept by
+two maiden ladies, who eked out their income by providing a plain
+meal, at a low price, for respectable young people.
+
+The company was made up to a large extent of English-speaking
+foreigners. There were several university students--grave-faced, older
+men, with beards and spectacles--who looked down on the young
+musicians, and talked, of set purpose, on abstruse subjects. More
+noteworthy were two American pianists: Ford, who could not carry a
+single glass of beer, and played better when he had had more than one;
+and James, a wiry, red-haired man, with an unfaltering opinion of
+himself, and an iron wrist--by means of a week's practice, he could
+ruin any piano. Two ladies were also present. Philadelphia Jensen; of
+German-American parentage, was a student of voice-production, under a
+Swedish singing master who had lately set musical circles in a
+ferment, with his new and extraordinary method: its devotees swore
+that, in time, it would display marvellous results; but, in the
+meantime, the most advanced pupils were only emitting single notes,
+and the greater number stood, every morning, before their respective
+mirrors, watching their mouths open and shut, fish-fashion, without
+producing a sound. Miss Jensen--she preferred the English pronunciation
+of the J--was a large, fleshy woman, with a curled fringe and prominent
+eyes. Her future stage-presence was the object of general admiration;
+it was whispered that she aimed at Isolde. Loud in voice and manner,
+she was fond of proclaiming her views on all kinds of subjects,
+from diaphragmatic respiration, through GHOSTS, which was being read
+by a bold, advanced few, down to the continental methods of regulating
+vice--to the intense embarrassment of those who sat next her at table.
+Still another American lady, Miss Martin, was studying with Bendel,
+the rival of Schwarz; and as she lived in the same quarter of the town
+as Dove and Maurice, the three of them often walked home together. For
+the most part, Miss Martin was in a state of tragic despair. With the
+frankness of her race, she admitted that she had arrived in Leipzig,
+expecting to astonish. In this she had been disappointed; Bendel had
+treated her like any other of his pupils; she was still playing Haydn
+and Czerny, and saw endless vistas of similar composers "back of
+these." Dove laid the whole blame on Bendel's method--which he
+denounced with eloquence--and strongly advocated her becoming a pupil
+of Schwarz. He himself undertook to arrange matters, and, in what
+seemed an incredibly short time, the change was effected. For a
+little, things went better; Schwarz was reported to have said that she
+had talent, great talent, and that he would make something of her; but
+soon, she was complaining anew: if there were any difference between
+Czerny and Bertini, Haydn and Dussek, some one might "slick up "and
+tell her what it was. Off the subject of her own gifts, she was a
+lively, affable girl, with china-blue eyes, pale flaxen hair, and
+coal-black eyebrows; and both young men got on well with her, in the
+usual superficial way. For Maurice Guest, she had the additional
+attraction, that he had once seen her in the street with the object of
+his romantic fancy.
+
+Since the afternoon when he had heard from Madeleine Wade who this
+was, he had not advanced a step nearer making her acquaintance; though
+a couple of weeks had passed, though he now knew two people who knew
+her, and though his satisfaction at learning her name had immediately
+yielded to a hunger for more. And now, hardly a day went by, on which
+he did not see her. His infatuation had made him keen of scent; by
+following her, with due precaution, he had found out for himself in
+the BRUDERSTRASSE, the roomy old house she lived in; had found out how
+she came and went. He knew her associates, knew the streets she
+preferred, the hour of day at which she was to be met at the
+Conservatorium. Far away, at the other end of one of the quiet streets
+that lay wide and sunny about the Gewandhaus, when, to other eyes she
+was a mere speck in the distance, he learned to recognise her--if only
+by the speed at which his heart beat--and he even gave chase to
+imaginary resemblances. Once he remained sitting in a tramway far
+beyond his destination, because he traced, in one of the passengers, a
+curious likeness to her, in long, wavy eyebrows that were highest in
+the middle of the forehead.
+
+Thus the pale face with the heavy eyes haunted him by day and by
+night.
+
+He was very happy and very unhappy, by turns--never at rest. If he
+imagined she had looked observantly at him as she passed, he was
+elated for hours after. If she did not seem to notice him, it was
+brought home to him anew that he was nothing to her; and once, when he
+had gazed too boldly, instead of turning away his eyes, as she went
+close by him to Schwarz's room, and she had resented the look with
+cold surprise, he felt as culpable as if he had insulted her. He
+atoned for his behaviour, the next time they met, by assuming his very
+humblest air; once, too, he deliberately threw himself in her way, for
+the mere pleasure of standing aside with the emphatic deference of a
+slave. Throughout this period, and particularly after an occasion such
+as the last, his self-consciousness was so peculiarly intensified that
+his surroundings ceased to exist for him--they two were the gigantic
+figures on a shadow background--and what he sometimes could not believe
+was, that such feelings as these should be seething in him, and she
+remain ignorant of them. He lost touch with reality, and dreamed
+dreams of imperceptible threads, finer than any gossamer, which could
+be spun from soul to soul, without the need of speech.
+
+He heaped on her all the spiritual perfections that answered to her
+appearance. And he did not, for a time, observe anything to make him
+waver in his faith that she was whiter, stiller, and more
+unapproachable--of a different clay, in short, from other women. Then,
+however, this illusion was shattered. Late one afternoon, she came
+down the stairs of the house she lived in, and, pausing at the door,
+looked up and down the hot, empty street, shading her eyes with her
+hand. No one was in sight, and she was about to turn away, when, from
+where he was watching in a neighbouring doorway, Maurice saw the
+red-haired violinist come swiftly round the corner. She saw him, too,
+took a few, quick steps towards him, and, believing herself unseen,
+looked up in is face as they met; and the passionate tenderness of the
+look, the sudden lighting of lip and eye, racked the poor, unwilling
+spy for days. To suit this abrupt descent from the pedestal, he
+was obliged to carve a new attribute to his idol, and laboriously
+adapt it.
+
+Schilsky, this insolent boy, was the thorn in his side. It was
+Schilsky she was oftenest to be met with; he was her companion at the
+most unexpected hours; and, with reluctance, Maurice had to admit to
+himself that she had apparently no thought to spare for anyone else.
+But it did not make any difference. The curious way in which he felt
+towards her, the strange, overwhelming effect her face had on him,
+took no account of outside things. Though he might never hope for a
+word from her; though he should learn in the coming moment that she
+was the other's promised wife; he could not for that reason banish her
+from his mind. His feelings were not to be put on and off, like
+clothes; he had no power over them. It was simply a case of accepting
+things as they were, and this he sought to do.
+
+But his imagination made it hard for him, by throwing up pictures in
+which Schilsky was all-prominent. He saw him the confidant of her joys
+and troubles; HE knew their origin, knew what key her day was set in.
+If her head ached, if she were tired or spiritless, his hand was on
+her brow. The smallest events in her life were an open book to him;
+and it was these worthless details that Maurice Guest envied him most.
+He kept a tight hold on his fancy, but if, as sometimes happened, it
+slipped control, and painted further looks of the kind he had seen
+exchanged between them, a kiss or an embrace, he was as wretched as if
+he had in reality been present.
+
+At other times, this jealous unrest was not the bitterest drop in his
+cup; it was bitterer to know that she was squandering her love on one
+who was unworthy of it. At first, from a feeling of exaggerated
+delicacy, he had gone out of his way to escape hearing Schilsky's
+name; but this mood passed, and gave place to an undignified hankering
+to learn everything he could, concerning the young man. What he heard
+amounted to this: a talented rascal, the best violinist the
+Conservatorium had turned out for years, one to whom all gates would
+open; but--this "but" always followed, with a meaning smile and a wink
+of the eye: and then came the anecdotes. They had nothing
+heaven-scaling in them--these soiled love-stories; this perpetual
+impecuniosity; this inability to refuse money, no matter whose the
+hand that offered it; this fine art in the disregarding of established
+canons--and, to Maurice Guest, bred to sterner standards, they seemed
+unspeakably low and mean. Hours came when he strove in vain to
+understand her. Ignorant of these things she could not be; was it
+within the limits of the possible that she could overlook them?--and he
+shivered lest he should be forced to think less highly of her.
+Ultimately, sending his mind back over what he had read and heard,
+drawing on his own slight experience, he came to a compromise with
+himself. He said that most often the best and fairest women loved men
+who were unworthy of them. Was it not a weakness and a strength of her
+sex to see good where no good was?--a kind of divine frailty, a wilful
+blindness, a sweet inability to discern.
+
+At times, again, he felt almost content that Schilsky was what he was.
+If the day should ever come when, all barriers down, he, Maurice
+Guest, might be intimately associated with her life; if he should ever
+have the chance of proving to her what real love was, what a holy
+mystic thing, how far removed from a blind passing fancy; if he might
+serve her, be her slave, lay his hands under her feet, lead her up and
+on, all suffused in a sunset of tenderness: then, she would see that
+what she had believed to be love had been nothing but a FATA MORGANA,
+a mirage of the skies. And he heard himself whispering words of
+incredible fondness to her, saw her listening with wonder in her eyes.
+
+At still other moments, he was ready to renounce every hope, if, by
+doing so, he could add jot or tittle to her happiness.
+
+The further he spun himself into his dreams, however, and the better
+he learnt to know her in imagination, the harder it grew to take the
+first step towards realising his wishes. In those few, brief days,
+when he hugged her name to him as a talisman, he waited cheerfully for
+something to happen, something unusual, that would bring him to her
+notice--a dropped handkerchief, a seat vacated for her at a concert,
+even a timely accident. But as day after day went by, in eventless
+monotony, he began to cast about him for human aid. From Dove, his
+daily companion, Dove of the outstretched paws of continual help, he
+now shrank away. Miss Martin was not to be spoken to except in Dove's
+company. There was only one person who could assist him, if she would,
+and that was Madeleine Wade. He called to mind the hearty invitation
+she had given him, and reproached himself for not having taken
+advantage of it.
+
+One afternoon, towards six o'clock, he rang the bell of her lodgings
+in the MOZARTSTRASSE. This was a new street, the first blocks of which
+gave directly on the Gewandhaus square; but, at the further
+end, where she lived, a phalanx of redbrick and stucco fronts looked
+primly across at a similar line. In the third storey of one of these
+houses, Madeleine Wade had a single, large room, the furniture of
+which was so skilfully contrived, that, by day, all traces of the
+room's double calling were obliterated.
+
+As he entered, on this first occasion, she was practising at a grand
+piano which stood before one of the windows. She rose at once, and,
+having greeted him warmly, made him sit down among the comfortable
+cushions that lined the sofa. Then she took cups and saucers from a
+cupboard in the wall, and prepared tea over a spirit-lamp. He soon
+felt quite at home with her, and enjoyed himself so well that many
+such informal visits followed.
+
+But the fact was not to be denied: it was her surroundings that
+attracted him, rather than she herself. True, he found her frankness
+delightfully "refreshing," and when he spoke of her, it was as of an
+"awfully good sort," "a first-class girl"; for Madeleine was
+invariably lively, kind and helpful. At the same time, she was without
+doubt a trifle too composed, too sure of herself; she had too keen an
+eye for human foibles; she came towards you with a perfectly natural
+openness, and she came all the way--there was nothing left for you to
+explore. And when not actually with her, it was easy to forget her;
+there was never a look or a smile, never a barbed word, never a sudden
+spontaneous gesture--the vivid translation of a thought--to stamp itself
+on your memory.
+
+But it was only at the outset that he thought things like these.
+Madeleine Wade had been through experiences of the same kind before;
+and hardly a fortnight later they were calling each other by their
+Christian names.
+
+When he came to her, towards evening, tired and inclined to be lonely,
+she seated him in a corner of the sofa, and did not ask him to say
+much until she had made the tea. Then, when the cups were steaming in
+front of them, she discussed sympathetically with him the progress of
+his work. She questioned him, too, about
+
+When he came to her, tired and inclined to be lonely, she seated him
+in a corner of the sofa, and did not ask him to say much until she
+made tea. Then, when the cups were steaming in front of them, she
+discussed sympathetically with him the progress of his work. She
+questioned him, too, about his home and family, and he read her parts
+of his mother's letters, which arrived without fail every Tuesday
+morning. She also drew from him a more detailed account of his
+previous life; and, in this connection, they had several animated
+discussions about teaching, a calling to which Madeleine looked
+composedly forward to returning, while Maurice, in strong superlative,
+declared he had rather force a flock of sheep to walk in line.
+She told him, too, some of the gossip the musical quarter of the town
+was rife with, about those in high places; and, in particular, of the
+bitter rivalry that had grown up with the years between Schwarz and
+Bendel, the chief masters of the piano. If these two met in the
+street, they passed each other with a stony stare; if, at an
+ABENDUNTERHALTUNG, a pupil of one was to play, the other rose
+ostentatiously and left the hall. She also hinted that in order to
+obtain all you wanted at the Conservatorium, to be favoured above your
+fellows, it was only necessary flagrantly to bribe one of the clerks,
+Kleefeld by name, who was open to receive anything, being wretchedly
+impecunious and the father of a large family.
+
+Finding, too, that Maurice was bent on learning German, she, who spoke
+the language fluently, proposed that they should read it together; and
+soon it became their custom to work through a few pages of QUINTUS
+FIXLEIN, a scene or two of Schiller, some lyrics of Heine. They also
+began to play duets, symphonies old and new, and Madeleine took care
+constantly to have something fresh and interesting at hand. To all
+this the young man brought an unbounded zeal, and, if he had had his
+way, they would have gone on playing or reading far into the evening.
+
+She smiled at his eagerness. "You absorb like a sponge."
+
+When it grew too dark to see, he confided to her that his dearest wish
+was to be a conductor. He was not yet clear how it could be managed,
+but he was sure that this was the branch of his art for which he had
+most aptitude.
+
+Here she interrupted him. "Do you never write verses?"
+
+Her question seemed to him so meaningless that he only laughed, and
+went on with what he was saying. For the event of his plan proving
+impracticable--at home they had no idea of it--he was training as a
+concert-player; but he intended to miss no chance that offered, of
+learning how to handle an orchestra.
+
+Throughout these hours of stimulating companionship, however, he did
+not lose sight of his original purpose in going to see Madeleine. It
+was only that just the right moment never seemed to come; and the name
+he was so anxious to hear, had not once been mentioned between them.
+Often, in the dusk, his lips twitched to speak it; but he feared his
+own awkwardness, and her quick tongue; then, too, the subject was
+usually far aside from what they were talking of, and it would have
+made a ludicrous impression to drag it in by the hair.
+
+But one day his patience was rewarded. He had carelessly taken
+up a paper-bound volume of Chopin, and was on the point of commenting
+upon it, for he had lately begun to understand the difference between
+a Litolff and a Mikuli. But it slipped from his hand, and he was
+obliged to crawl under the piano to pick it up; on a corner of the
+cover, in a big, black, scrawly writing, was the name of Marie Louise
+Dufrayer. He cleared his throat, laid the volume down, took it up
+again; then, realising that the moment had come, he put a bold face on
+the matter.
+
+"I see this belongs to Miss Dufrayer," he said bluntly, and, as his
+companion's answer was only a careless: "Yes, Louise forgot it the
+last time she was here," he went on without delay: "I should like to
+know Miss Dufrayer, Madeleine. Do you think you could introduce me to
+her?"
+
+Madeleine, who was in the act of taking down a book from her hanging
+shelves, turned and looked at him. He was still red in the face, from
+the exertion of stooping.
+
+"Introduce you to Louise?" she queried. "Why?--why do you want to be
+introduced to her?"
+
+"Oh, I don't know. For no particular reason."
+
+She sat down at the table, opened the book, and turned the leaves.
+
+"Oh well, I daresay I can, if you wish it, and an opportunity
+occurs--if you're with me some day when I meet her.--Now shall we go on
+with the JUNGFRAU? We were beginning the third act, I think. Here it
+is:
+
+Wir waren Herzensbruder, Waffenfreunde,
+Fur eine Sache hoben wir den Arm!"
+
+But Maurice did not take the book she handed him across the table.
+
+"Won't you give me a more definite promise than that?"
+
+Madeleine sat back in her chair, and, folding her arms, looked
+thoughtfully at him.
+
+Only a momentary silence followed his words, but, in this fraction of
+time, a series of impressions swept through her brain with the
+continuity of a bird's flight. It was clear to her at once, that what
+prompted his insistence was not an ordinary curiosity, or a passing
+whim; in a flash, she understood that here, below the surface,
+something was at work in him, the existence of which she had not even
+suspected. She was more than annoyed with herself at her own
+foolish obtuseness; she had had these experiences before, and then, as
+now, the object of her interest had invariably been turned aside by
+the first pretty, silly face that came his way. The main difference
+was that she had been more than ordinarily drawn to Maurice Guest;
+and, believing it impossible, in this case, for anyone else to be
+sharing the field with her, she had over-indulged the hope that he
+sought her out for herself alone.
+
+She endeavoured to learn more. But this time Maurice was on his guard,
+and the questions she put, straight though they were, only elicited
+the response that he had seen Miss Dufrayer shortly after arriving,
+and had been much struck by her.
+
+Madeleine's brain travelled rapidly backwards. "But if I remember
+rightly, Maurice, we met Louise one day in the SCHEIBENHOLZ, the first
+time we went for a walk together. Why didn't you stop then, and be
+introduced to her, if you were so anxious?"
+
+"Why do we ever do foolish things?"
+
+Her amazement was so patent that he made uncomfortable apology for
+himself. "It is ridiculous, I know," he said and coloured. "And it
+must seem doubly so to you. But that I should want to know her--there's
+nothing strange in that, is there? You, too, Madeleine, have surely
+admired people sometimes--some one, say, who has done a fine thing--and
+have felt that you must know them personally, at all costs?"
+
+"Perhaps I have. But romantic feelings of that kind are sure to end in
+smoke. As a rule they've no foundation but our own wishes.--If you take
+my advice, Maurice, you will be content to admire Louise at a
+distance. Think her as pretty as you like, and imagine her to be all
+that's sweet and charming: but never mind about knowing her."
+
+"But why on earth not?"
+
+"Why, nothing will come of it."
+
+"That depends on what you mean by nothing."
+
+"You don't understand. I must be plainer.--Do sit down, and don't
+fidget so.--How long have you been here now? Nearly two months. Well,
+that's long enough to know something of what's going on. You must have
+both seen and heard that Louise has no eyes for anyone but a certain
+person, to put it bluntly, that she is wrapped up in Schilsky. This
+has been going on for over a year now, and she seems to grow more
+infatuated every day. When she first came to Leipzig, we were friends;
+she lived in this neighbourhood, and I was able to be of
+service to her. Now, weeks go by and I don't see her; she has broken
+with every one--for Louise is not a girl to do things by
+halves.--Introduce you? Of course I can. But suppose it done, with all
+pomp and ceremony, what will you get from it? I know Louise. A word or
+two, if her ladyship is in the mood; if not, you will be so much thin
+air for her. And after that, a nod if she meets you in the street--and
+that's all."
+
+"It's enough."
+
+"You're easily satisfied.--But tell me, honestly now, Maurice, what
+possible good can that do you?"
+
+He moved aimlessly about the room. "Good? Must one always look for
+good in everything?--I can see quite well that from your point of view
+the whole thing must seem absurd. I expect nothing whatever from it,
+but I'm going to know her, and that's all about it."
+
+Still in the same position, with folded arms, Madeleine observed him
+with unblinking eyes.
+
+"And you won't bear me a grudge, if things go badly?--I mean if you are
+disappointed, or dissatisfied?"
+
+He made a gesture of impatience.
+
+"Yes, but I know Louise, and you don't."
+
+He had picked up from the writing-table the photograph of a curate,
+and he stared at it as if he had no thought but to let the mild
+features stamp themselves on his mind. Madeleine's eyes continued to
+bore him through. At last, out of a silence, she said slowly: "Of
+course I can introduce you--it's done with a wave of the hand. But, as
+your friend, I think it only right to warn you what you must expect.
+For I can see you don't understand in the least, and are laying up a
+big disappointment for yourself. However, you shall have your way--if
+only to show you that I am right."
+
+"Thanks, Madeleine--thanks awfully."
+
+They settled down to read Schiller. But Maurice made one slip after
+another, and she let them pass uncorrected. She was annoyed with
+herself afresh, for having made too much of the matter, for having
+blown it up to a fictitious importance, when the wiser way would have
+been to treat it as of no consequence at all.
+
+The next afternoon he arrived, with expectation in his face; but not
+on this day, nor the next, nor the next again, did she bring the
+subject up between them. On the fourth, however, as he was leaving,
+she said abruptly: "You must have patience for a little, Maurice.
+Louise has gone to Dresden."
+
+"That's why the blinds are down," he exclaimed without
+thinking, then coloured furiously at his own words, and, to smooth
+them over, asked: "Why has she gone? For how long?"
+
+But Madeleine caught him up. "SIEH DA, some one has been playing
+sentinel!" she said in raillery; and it seemed to him that every fold
+in his brain was laid bare to her, before she answered: "She has gone
+for a week or ten days--to visit some friends who are staying there."
+
+He nodded, and was about to open the door, when she added: "But set
+your mind at rest--HE is here."
+
+Maurice looked sharply up; but a minute or two passed before the true
+meaning of her words broke on him. He coloured again--a mortifying
+habit he had not outgrown, and one which seemed to affect him more in
+the presence of Madeleine than of anyone else.
+
+"It's hardly a thing to joke about."
+
+"Joke!--who is joking?" she asked, and raised her eyebrows so high that
+her forehead was filled with wrinkles. "Nothing was further from my
+thoughts."
+
+Maurice hesitated, and stood undecided, holding the doorhandle. Then,
+following an impulse, he turned and sat down again. "Madeleine, tell
+me--I wouldn't ask anyone but you--what sort of a fellow IS this
+Schilsky?"
+
+"What sort of a fellow?" She laughed sarcastically. "To be quite
+truthful, Maurice, the best fiddler the Con. has turned out for
+years."
+
+"Now you're joking again. As if I didn't know that. Everyone says the
+same."
+
+"You want his moral character? Well, I'll be equally candid. Or, at
+least, I'll give you my opinion of him. It's another superlative. Just
+as I consider him the best violinist, I also hold him to be the
+greatest scamp in the place--and I've no objection to use a stronger
+word if you like. I wouldn't take his hand, no, not if he offered it
+to me. The last time he was in this room, about six months ago, he--
+well, let us say he borrowed, without a word to me, five or six marks
+that were lying loose on the writing-table. Yes, it's a fact," she
+repeated, complacently eyeing Maurice's dismay. "Otherwise?--oh,
+otherwise, he was born, I think, with a silver spoon in his mouth. He
+has one piece of luck after another. Zeppelin discovered him ten years
+ago, on a concert-tour--his father is a smith in Warsaw--and brought him
+to Leipzig. He was a prodigy, then, and a rich Jewish banker
+took him up, and paid for his education; and when he washed his hands
+of him in disgust, Schaefele's wife--Schaefele is head of the
+HANDELVEREIN, you know--adopted him as a son--some people say as more
+than a son, for, though she was nearly forty, she was perfectly crazy
+over him, and behaved as foolishly as any of the dozens of silly girls
+who have lost their hearts to him."
+
+"I suppose they are engaged," said Maurice after a pause, speaking out
+of his own thoughts.
+
+"Do you?" she asked with mild humour. "I really never asked them.--But
+this is just another example of his good fortune. When he has worn out
+every one else's patience, through his dishonest extravagance, he
+picks up a rich wife, who is not averse to supporting him before
+marriage."
+
+Maurice looked at her reproachfully. "I wonder you care to repeat such
+gossip."
+
+"It's not gossip, Maurice. Every one knows it. Louise makes no mystery
+of her doings--doesn't care that much what people say. While as for
+him--well, it's enough to know it's Schilsky. The thing is an open
+secret. Listen, now, and I'll tell you how it began--just to let you
+judge for yourself what kind of a girl you have to deal with in
+Louise, and how Schilsky behaves when he wants a thing, and whether
+such a pair think a formal engagement necessary to their happiness.
+When Louise came here, a year and a half ago, Schilsky was away
+somewhere with Zeppelin, and didn't get back till a couple of months
+afterwards. As I said, I knew Louise pretty well at that time; she had
+got herself into trouble with--but that's neither here nor there. Well,
+my lord returns--he himself tells how it happened. It was a Thursday
+evening, and a Radius Commemoration was going on at the Con. He went
+in late, and stood at the back of the hall. Louise was there, too,
+just before him, and, from the first minute he saw her, he couldn't
+take his eyes off her--others who were by say, too, he seemed perfectly
+fascinated. No one can stare as rudely as Schilsky, and he ended by
+making her so uncomfortable that she couldn't bear it any longer, and
+went out of the hall. He after her, and it didn't take him an hour to
+find out all about her. The next evening, at an ABEND, they were both
+there again it was just like Louise to go!--and the same thing was
+repeated. She left again before it was over, he followed, and this
+time found her in one of the side corridors; and there--mind you,
+without a single word having passed between them!--he took her
+in his arms and kissed her, kissed her soundly, half a dozen
+times--though they had never once spoken to each other: he boasts of it
+to this day. That same evening----"
+
+"Don't, Madeleine--please, don't say any more! I don't care to hear
+it," broke in Maurice. He had flushed to the roots of his hair, at
+some points of resemblance to his own case, then grown pale again, and
+now he waved his arm meaninglessly in the air. "He is a scoundrel,
+a--a----" But he recognised that he could not condemn one without the
+other, and stopped short.
+
+"My dear boy, if I don't tell you, other people will. And at least you
+know I mean well by you. Besides," she went on, not without a touch of
+malice as she eyed him sitting there, spoiling the leaves of a book.
+"Besides, I may as well show you, how you have to treat Louise, if you
+want to make an impression on her. You call him a scoundrel, but what
+of her? Believe me, Maurice," she said more seriously, "Louise is not
+a whit too good for him; they were made for each other. And of course
+he will marry her eventually, for the sake of her, money "--here she
+paused and looked deliberately at him--"if not for her own."
+
+This time there was no mistaking the meaning of her words.
+
+"Madeleine!"
+
+He rose from his seat with such force that the table tilted.
+
+But Madeleine did not falter. "I told you already, you know, that
+Louise doesn't care what is said about her. As soon as this
+unfortunate affair began, she threw up the rooms she was in at the
+time, and moved nearer the TALSTRASSE--where he lives. Rumour has it
+also that she provided herself with an accommodating landlady, who can
+be blind and deaf when necessary."
+
+"How CAN you repeat such atrocious scandal?"
+
+He stared at her, in incredulous dismay. Her words were so many
+arrows, the points of which remained sticking in him.
+
+She shrugged her shoulders. "Your not believing it doesn't affect the
+truth of the story, Maurice. It was the talk of the place when it
+happened. And you may despise rumour as you will, my experience is, a
+report never springs up that hasn't some basis of fact to go
+on--however small."
+
+He choked back, with an effort, the eloquent words that came to his
+lips; of what use was it to make himself still more ridiculous in her
+eyes? His hat had fallen to the floor; he picked it up, and brushed it
+on his sleeve, without knowing what he did. "Oh, well, of
+course, if you think that," he said as coolly as he was able, "nothing
+I could say would make any difference. Every one is free to his
+opinions, I suppose. But, all the same, I must say, Madeleine"--he
+grew hot in spite of himself. "You have been her friend, you say; you
+have known her intimately; and yet just because she . . . she cares for
+this fellow in such a way that she sets caring for him above being
+cautious--why, not one woman in a thousand would have the courage for
+that sort of thing! It needs courage, not to mind what people--no, what
+your friends imagine, and how falsely they interpret what you do.
+Besides, one has only to look at her to see how absurd it is. That
+face and--I don't know her, Madeleine; I've never spoken to her, and
+never may, yet I am absolutely certain that what is said about her
+isn't true. So certain that--But after all, if this is what you think
+about . . . about it, then all I have to say is, we had better not
+discuss the subject again. It does no good, and we should never be of
+the same opinion."
+
+Not without embarrassment, now that he had said his say, he turned to
+the door. But Madeleine was not in the least angry. She gave him her
+hand, and said, with a smile, yet gravely, too: "Agreed, Maurice! We
+will not speak of Louise again."
+
+
+
+
+V.
+
+
+
+He shunned Madeleine for days after this. He was morose and unhappy,
+and brooded darkly over the baseness of wagging tongues. For the first
+time in his life he had come into touch with slander, that invisible
+Hydra, and straightway it seized upon the one person to whom he was
+not indifferent. In this mood it was a relief to him that certain
+three windows in the BRUDERSTRASSE remained closed and shuttered; with
+the load of malicious gossip fresh on his mind, he chose rather not to
+see her; he must first accustom himself to it, as to the scar left by
+a wound.
+
+He did not, of course, believe what Madeleine, with her infernal
+frankness, had told him; but the knowledge that such a report was
+abroad, depressed him unspeakably: it took colour from the sky and
+light from the sun. Sometimes in these days, as he sat at his piano,
+he had a sudden fit of discouragement, which made it seem not worth
+while to continue playing. It was unthinkable that she could be aware
+how busy scandal was with her name, and how her careless acts were
+spied on and misrepresented; and he turned over in his mind ways and
+means by which she might be induced to take more thought for herself
+in future.
+
+He did not believe it; but hours of distracting uncertainty came, none
+the less, when small things which his memory had stored up made him go
+so far as to ask himself, what if it should be true?--what then? But
+he had not courage enough to face an answer; he put the possibility
+away from him, in the extreme background of his mind, refused to let
+his brain piece its observations together. The mere suspicion was a
+blasphemy, a blasphemy against her dignified reserve, against her
+sweet pale face, her supreme disregard of those about her. Not thus
+would guilt have shown itself.
+
+Schilsky, who was the origin of all the evil, he made wide circuits to
+avoid. He thought of him, at this time, with what he believed to be a
+feeling of purely personal antipathy. In his most downcast moments, he
+had swift and foolish visions publicly executing vengeance on him; but
+if, a moment later, he saw the violinist's red hair or big hat before
+him in the street, he turned aside as though the other had been
+plague-struck. Once, however, when he was going up the steps of the
+Conservatorium, and Schilsky, in leaping down, pushed carelessly
+against him, he returned the knock so rudely and swore with such
+downrightness that, in spite of his hurry, Schilsky stopped and fixed
+him, and with equal vehemence damned him for a fool of an Englishman.
+
+His despondency spread like a weed. A furious impatience overcame him,
+too, at the thought of the innumerable hours he would be forced to
+spend at the piano, day in, day out, for months to come, before the
+result could be compared with the achievements even of many a
+fellow-student. As the private lessons Schwarz gave were too expensive
+for him, he decided, as a compromise, to take a course of extra
+lessons with Furst, who prepared pupils for the master, and was quite
+willing to come to terms, in other words, who taught for what he could
+get.
+
+Once a week, then, for the rest of the summer, Maurice climbed the
+steep, winding stair of the house in the BRANDVORWERKSTRASSE where
+Furst lived with his mother. It was so dark on this stair that, in
+dull weather, ill-trimmed lamps burnt all day long on the different
+landings. To its convolutions, in its unaired corners, clung what
+seemed to be the stale, accumulated smells of years; and these were
+continually reinforced; since every day at dinnertime, the various
+kitchen-windows, all of which gave on the stair, were opened to let
+the piercing odours of cooking escape. The house, like the majority of
+its kind in this relatively new street, was divided into countless
+small lodgings; three families, with three rooms apiece, lived on each
+storey, and on the fifth floor, at the top of the house, the same
+number of rooms was let out singly. Part of the third storey was
+occupied by a bird-fancier; and between him and the Fursts above waged
+perpetual war, one of those petty, unending wars that can only arise
+and be kept up when, as here, such heterogeneous elements are forced
+to live side by side, under one roof. The fancier, although his
+business was nominally in the town, had enough of his wares beside him
+to make his house a lively, humming kind of place, and the strife
+dated back to a day when, the door standing temptingly ajar, Peter,
+the Fursts' lean cat, had sneaked stealthily in upon this, to him,
+enchanted ground, and, according to the fancier, had caused the death,
+from fright, of a delicate canary, although the culprit had done
+nothing more than sit before the cage, licking his lips. This had
+happened several years ago, but each party was still fertile in
+planning annoyances for the other, and the females did not bow when
+they met. On the fourth floor, next the Fursts, lived a pale, harassed
+teacher, with a family which had long since outgrown its
+accommodation; for the wife was perpetually in childbed, and cots and
+cradles were the chief furniture of the house. As the critical moments
+of her career drew nigh, the "Frau Lehrer" complained, with an
+aggravated bitterness, of the unceasing music that went on behind the
+thin partition; and this grievance, together with the racy items of
+gossip left behind the midwife's annual visit, like a trail of smoke,
+provided her and Furst's mother with infinite food for talk. They were
+thick friends again a few minutes after a scene so lively that blows
+seemed imminent, and they met every morning on the landing, where,
+with broom or child in hand, they stood gossiping by the hour.
+
+When Maurice rang, Frau Furst opened the door to him herself, having
+first cautiously examined him through the kitchen window. Drying her
+hands on her apron, she ushered him through the tiny entry--a place of
+dangers, pitch-dark as it was, and lumbered with chests and
+presses--into Franz's room, the "best room" of the house. Here were
+collected a red plush suite, which was the pride of Frau Furst's
+heart, and all the round, yellowing family photographs; here, too,
+stood the well-used Bechstein, pile upon pile of music, a couple of
+music-stands, a bust of Schubert, a faded, framed diploma. For years,
+assuredly, the windows had never been thrown wide open; the odours of
+stale coffee and forgotten dinners, of stove and warmed wood, of
+piano, music and beeswax: all these lay as it were in streaks in the
+atmosphere, and made it heavy and thought-benumbing.
+
+A willing listener was worth more than gold to Frau Furst and here,
+the first time he came, while waiting for Franz, Maurice heard in
+detail the history of the family. The father had been an oboist in the
+Gewandhaus orchestra, and had died a few years previously, of a chill
+incurred after a performance of DIE MEISTERSINGER. At his death, it
+had fallen on Franz to support the family; and, thanks to Schwarz's
+aid and influence, Franz was able to get as many pupils as he had time
+to teach. It was easy to see that this, her eldest son, was the apple
+of Frau Furst's eye; her other children seemed to be there only to
+meet his needs; his lightest wish was law. Each additional pupil that
+sought him out, was a fresh tribute to his genius, each one that left
+him, no matter after how long, was unthankful and a traitor.
+For the nights on which his quartet met at the house, she prepared as
+another woman would for a personal fete; and she watched the candles
+grow shorter without a tinge of regret. When Franz played at an
+ABENDUNTERHALTUNG, the family turned out in a body. Schwarz was a god,
+all-powerful, on whom their welfare depended; and it was necessary to
+propitiate him by a quarterly visit on a Sunday morning, when, over
+wine and biscuits, she wept real and feigned tears of gratitude.
+
+In this hard-working, careworn woman, who was seldom to be seen but in
+petticoat, bed-jacket, and heelless, felt shoes; who, her whole life
+long, had been little better than a domestic servant; in her there
+existed a devotion to art which had never wavered. It would have
+seemed to her contrary to nature that Franz should be anything but a
+musician, and it was also quite in the order of things for them to be
+poor. Two younger boys, who were still at school, gave up all their
+leisure time to music--they had never in their lives tumbled round a
+football or swung a bat--and Franz believed that the elder would prove
+a skilful violinist. Of the little girls, one had a pure voice and a
+good ear, and was to be a singer--for before this Juggernaut, prejudice
+went down. Had anyone suggested to Frau Furst that her daughter should
+be a clerk, even a teacher, she would have flung up hands of horror;
+but music!--that was a different matter. It was, moreover, the single
+one of the arts, in which this staunch advocate of womanliness granted
+her sex a share.
+
+"Ask Franz," she said to Maurice. "Franz knows. He will explain. All
+women can do is to reproduce what some one else has thought or felt."
+
+As an immortal example of the limits set by sex, she invariably fell
+back on Clara Schumann, with whom she had more than once come into
+personal contact. In her youth, Frau Furst had had a clear soprano
+voice, and, to Maurice's interest, she told him how she had sometimes
+been sent for to the Schumann's house in the INSELSTRASSE, to sing
+Robert's songs for him.
+
+"Clara accompanied me," she said, relating this, the great
+reminiscence of her life; "and he was there, too, although I never saw
+him face to face. He was too shy for that. But he was behind a screen,
+and sometimes he would call: 'I must alter that; it is too high;' or
+'Quicker, quicker!' Sometimes even 'Bravo!'"
+
+Her motherly ambitions for Franz knew no bounds. One of the few
+diversions she allowed herself was a visit to the theatre--when Franz
+had tickets given to him; when one of her favourite operas was
+performed; or on the anniversary of her husband's death--and, on such
+occasions, she pointed out to the younger children, the links that
+bound and would yet bind them to the great house.
+
+"That was your father's seat," she reminded them every time. "The
+second row from the end. He came in at the door to the left. And
+that," pointing to the conductor's raised chair, "is where Franz will
+sit some day." For she dreamed of Franz in all the glory of
+KAPELLMEISTER; saw him swinging the little stick that dominated the
+theatre-audience, singers and players alike.
+
+And the children, hanging over the high gallery, shuffling their
+restless feet, thus had their path as dearly traced for them, their
+destiny as surely sealed, as any fate-shackled heroes of antiquity.
+
+
+
+* * * * *
+
+
+
+Late one afternoon about this time, Franz might have been found
+together with his friends Krafft and Schilsky, at the latter's lodging
+in the TALSTRASSE. He was astride a chair, over the back of which he
+had folded his arms; and his chubby, rubicund face glistened with
+moisture.
+
+In the middle of the room, at the corner of a bare deal table that was
+piled with loose music and manuscript, Schilsky sat improving and
+correcting the tails and bodies of hastily made, notes. He was still
+in his nightshirt, over which he had thrown coat and trousers; and,
+wide open at the neck, it exposed to the waist a skin of the dead
+whiteness peculiar to red-haired people. His face, on the other hand,
+was sallow and unfresh; and the reddish rims of the eyes, and the
+coarsely self-indulgent mouth, contrasted strikingly with the general
+youthfulness of his appearance. He had the true musician's head: round
+as a cannon-ball, with a vast, bumpy forehead, on which the soft
+fluffy hair began far back, and stood out like a nimbus. His eyes were
+either desperately dreamy or desperately sharp, never normally
+attentive or at rest; his blunted nose and chin were so short as to
+make the face look top-heavy. A carefully tended young moustache stood
+straight out along his cheeks. He had large, slender hands, and quick
+movements.
+
+The air of the room was like a thin grey veiling, for all three puffed
+hard at cigarettes. Without removing his from between his
+teeth, Schilsky related an adventure of the night before. He spoke in
+jerks, with a strong lisp, intent on what he was doing than on what he
+was saying.
+
+"Do you think he'd budge?" he asked in a thick, spluttery way. "Not
+he. Till nearly two. And then I couldn't get him along. He thought it
+wasn't eleven, and wanted to relieve himself at every corner. To
+irritate an imaginary bobby. He disputed with them, too. Heavens, what
+sport it was! At last I dragged him up here and got him on the sofa.
+Off he rolls again. So I let him lie. He didn't disturb me."
+
+Heinrich Krafft, the hero of the episode lay on the short,
+uncomfortable sofa, with the table-cover for a blanket. In answer to
+Schilsky, he said faintly, without opening his eyes: "Nothing would.
+You are an ox. When I wake this morning, with a mouth like gum arabic,
+he sits there as if he had not stirred all night. Then to bed, and
+snores till midday, through all the hellish light and noise."
+
+Here Furst could not resist making a little joke. He announced himself
+by a chuckle-like the click of a clock about to strike.
+
+"He's got to make the most of his liberty. He doesn't often get off
+duty. We know, we know." He laughed tonelessly, and winked at Krafft.
+
+Krafft quoted:
+
+In der Woche zwier--
+
+"Now, you fellows, shut up!" said Schilsky. It was plain that banter
+of this kind was not disagreeable to him; at the same time he was just
+at the moment too engrossed, to have more than half an car for what
+was said. With his short-sighted eyes close to the paper, he was
+listening with all his might to some harmonies that his fingers played
+on the table. When, a few minutes later he rose and stretched the
+stiffness from his limbs, his face, having lost its expression of rapt
+concentration, seemed suddenly to have grown younger. He set about
+dressing himself by drawing off his nightshirt over his head. At a
+word from him, Furst sprang to collect utensils for making coffee.
+Heinrich Krafft opened his eyes and followed their movements; and the
+look he had for Schilsky was as warily watchful as a cat's.
+
+Schilsky, an undeveloped Hercules--he was narrow in proportion to his
+height--and still naked to the waist, took some bottles from a long
+line of washes and perfumes that stood on the washstand, and,
+crossing to an elegant Venetian-glass mirror, hung beside the window,
+lathered his chin. It was a peculiarity of his only to be able to
+attend thoroughly to one thing at a time, and a string of witticisms
+uttered by Furst passed unheeded. But Krafft's first words made him
+start.
+
+Having watched him for some time, the latter said slowly. "I say, old
+fellow, are you sure it's all square about Lulu and this Dresden
+business?"
+
+Razor in hand, Schilsky turned and looked at him. As he did so, he
+coloured, and answered with an over-anxious haste: "Of course I am. I
+made her go. She didn't want to"
+
+"That's a well-known trick."
+
+The young man scowled and thrust out his under-lip. "Do you think I'm
+not up to their tricks? Do you want to teach me how to manage a woman?
+I tell you I sent her away."
+
+He tried to continue shaving, but was visibly uneasy. "Well, if you
+won't believe me," he said, with sudden anger, though neither of the
+others had spoken. "Now where the deuce is that letter?"
+
+He rummaged among the music and papers on the table; in chaotic
+drawers; beneath dirty, fat-scaled dinner-dishes on the washstand;
+between door and stove, through a kind of rubbishheap that had formed
+with time, of articles of dress, spoiled sheets of music-paper, soiled
+linen, empty bottles, and boots, countless boots, single and in pairs.
+When he had found what he looked for, he ran his eyes down the page,
+as if he were going to read it aloud. Then, however, he changed his
+mind; a boyish gratification overspread his face, and, tossing the
+letter to Krafft, he bade them read it for themselves. Furst leaned
+over the end of the sofa. It was written in English, in a bold,
+scrawly hand, and ran, without date or heading:
+
+MY OWN DEAREST
+
+NOW ONLY FOUR DAYS MORE--I COUNT THEM MORNING AND NIGHT. I AM GOOD FOR
+NOTHING--MY THOUGHTS ARE ALWAYS WITH YOU. YESTERDAY AT THE GALLERY I
+SAT ALONE IN THE ROOM WHERE THE MADONNA IS, PRETENDING ENTHUSIASM--WHILE
+THE REST WENT TO HOLBEIN--AND READ YOUR LETTER OVER AND OVER
+AGAIN. BUT IT MADE ME A LITTLE UNHAPPY TOO, FOR I SOON FOUND OUT THAT
+YOU HAD WRITTEN IT AT THREE DIFFERENT TIMES. IS IT REALLY SO HARD TO
+WRITE TO LULU?
+
+HAVE YOU WORKED BETTER FOR WANT OF INTERRUPTION ?--MY DAMNED
+INTERRUPTIONS, AS YOU CALLED THEM LAST WEEK WHEN YOU WERE SO ANGRY
+WITH ME. SHALL YOU HAVE A GREAT DEAL TO SHOW ME WHEN I COME HOME?
+NO--DON'T SAY YOU WILL--OR I SHALL HATE ZARATHUSTRA MORE THAN I DO
+ALREADY.
+
+AND NOW ONLY TILL FRIDAY. THIS TIME YOU WILL MEET ME YES?--AND NOT COME
+TO THE STATION AN HOUR LATE, AS YOU SAID YOU DID LAST TIME. IF YOU ARE
+NOT THERE--I WARN YOU--I SHALL THROW MYSELF UNDER THE TRAIN. I AM
+WRITING, TO GRUNHUT. GET FLOWERS--THERE IS MONEY IN ONE OF THE VASES
+ON THE WRITING-TABLE. OH, IF YOU ONLY WILL, WE SHALL HAVE SUCH A HAPPY
+EVENING--IF ONLY YOU WILL. AND I SHALL NEVER LEAVE YOU AGAIN, NEVER
+AGAIN.
+
+YOUR OWN LOVING, L.
+
+Furst could not make out much of this; he was still spelling through
+the first paragraph when Krafft had finished. Schilsky, who had gone
+on dressing, kept a sharp eye on his friends--particularly on Krafft.
+
+"Well?" he asked eagerly as the letter was laid down.
+
+Krafft was silent, but Furst kissed his finger-tips to a large hanging
+photograph of the girl in question, and was facetious on the subject
+of dark, sallow women.
+
+"And you, Heinz? What do you say?" demanded Schilsky with growing
+impatience.
+
+Still Krafft did not reply, and Schilsky was mastered by a violent
+irritation.
+
+"Why the devil can't you open your mouth? What's the matter with you?
+Have YOU anything like that to show--you Joseph, you?"
+
+Krafft let a waxen hand drop over the side of the sofa and trail on
+the floor. "The letters were burned, dear boy--when you appeared." He
+closed his eyes and smiled, seeming to remember something. But a
+moment later, he fixed Schilsky sharply, and asked: "You want my
+opinion, do you?"
+
+"Of course I do," said Schilsky, and flung things about the room.
+
+"Lulu," said Krafft with deliberation, "Lulu is getting you under her
+thumb."
+
+The other sprang up, swore, and aimed a boot, which he had been vainly
+trying to put on the wrong foot, at a bottle that protruded from the
+rubbish-heap.
+
+"Me? Me under her thumb?" he spluttered--his lips became more
+marked under excitement. "I should like to see her try it. You don't
+know me. You don't know Lulu. I am her master, I tell you. She can't
+call her soul her own."
+
+"And yet," said Krafft, unmoved, "it's a fact all the same."
+
+Schilsky applied a pair of curling tongs to his hair, at such a degree
+of heat that a lock frizzled, and came off in his hand. His anger
+redoubled. "Is it my fault that she acts like a wet-nurse? Is that
+what you call being under her thumb?" he cried.
+
+Furst tried to conciliate him and to make peace. "You're a lucky dog,
+old fellow, and you know you are. We all know it--in spite of
+occasional tantaras. But you would be still luckier if you took a
+friend's sound advice and got you to the registrar. Ten minutes before
+the registrar, and everything would be different. Then she might play
+up as she liked; you would be master in earnest."
+
+"Registrar?" echoed Krafft with deep scorn. "Listen to the ape! Not if
+we can hinder it. When he's fool enough for that--I know him--it will be
+with something fresher and less faded, something with the bloom still
+on it."
+
+Schilsky winced as though he had been struck. Her age--she was eight
+years older than he--was one of his sorest points.
+
+"Oh, come on, now," said Furst as he poured out the coffee. "That's
+hardly fair. She's not so young as she might be, it's true, but no one
+can hold a candle to her still. Lulu is Lulu."
+
+"Ten minutes before the registrar," continued Krafft, meditatively
+shaking his head. "And for the rest of life, chains. And convention.
+And security, which stales. And custom, which satiates. Oh no, I am
+not for matrimony!"
+
+Schilsky's ill-humour evaporated in a peal of boisterous laughter.
+"Yes, and tell us why, chaste Joseph, tell us why," he cried, throwing
+a brush at his friend. "Or go to the devil--where you're at home."
+
+Krafft warded off the brush. "Look here," he said, "confess. Have you
+kissed another girl for months? Have you had a single billet-doux?"
+
+But Schilsky only winked provokingly. Having finished laughing, he
+said with emphasis: "But after Lulu, they are all tame. Lulu is Lulu,
+and that's the beginning and end of the matter."
+
+"Exactly my opinion," said Furst. "And yet, boys, if I wanted
+to make your mouths water, I could." He closed one eye and smacked his
+lips. "I know of something--something young and blond . . . and dimpled
+. . . and round, round as a feather-pillow"--he made descriptive
+movements of the hand--"with a neck, boys, a neck, I say----" Here in
+sheer ecstasy, he stuck fast, and could get no further.
+
+Schilsky roared anew. "He knows of something . . . so he does," he
+cried--Furst's pronounced tastes were a standing joke among them.
+"Show her to us, old man, show her to us! Where are you hiding her? If
+she's under eighteen, she'll do--under eighteen, mind you, not a day
+over. Come along, I'm on for a spree. Up with you, Joseph!"
+
+He was ready, come forth from the utter confusion around him, like a
+god from a cloud. He wore light grey clothes, a loosely knotted,
+bright blue tie, with floating ends and conspicuous white spots, and
+buttoned boots of brown kid. Hair and handkerchief were strongly
+scented.
+
+Krafft, having been prevailed on to rise, made no further toilet than
+that of dipping his head in a basin of water, which stood on the tail
+of the grand piano. His hair emerged a mass of dripping ringlets,
+covetously eyed by his companions.
+
+They walked along the streets, Schilsky between the others, whom he
+overtopped by head and shoulders: three young rebels out against the
+Philistines: three bursting charges of animal spirits.
+
+There was to be a concert that evening at the Conservatorium, and,
+through vestibule and entrance-halls, which, for this reason, were
+unusually crowded, the young men made a kind of triumphal progress.
+Especially Schilsky. Not a girl, young or old, but peddled for a word
+or a look from him; and he was only too prodigal of insolently
+expressive glances, whispered greetings, and warm pressures of the
+hand. The open flattery and bold adoration of which he was the object
+mounted to his head; he felt secure in his freedom, and brimful of
+selfconfidence; and, as the three of them walked back to the town, his
+exhilaration, a sheer excess of well-being, was no longer to be kept
+within decent bounds.
+
+"Wait!" he cried suddenly as they were passing the Gewandhaus. "Wait a
+minute! See me make that woman there take a fit."
+
+He ran across the road to the opposite pavement, where the only person
+in sight, a stout, middle-aged woman, was dragging slowly
+along, her arms full of parcels; and, planting himself directly in
+front of her, so that she was forced to stop, he seized both her hands
+and worked them up and down.
+
+"Now upon my soul, who would have thought of seeing you here, you
+baggage, you?" he cried vociferously.
+
+The woman was speechless from amazement; her packages fell to the
+ground, and she gazed open-mouthed at the wild-haired lad before her,
+making, at the same time, vain attempts to free her hands.
+
+"No, this really is luck," he went on, holding her fast. "Come, a
+kiss, my duck, just one! EIN KUSSCHEN IN EHREN, you know----" and, in
+very fact, he leaned forward and pecked at her cheek.
+
+The blood dyed her face and she panted with rage.
+
+"You young scoundrel!" she gasped. "You impertinent young dog! I'll
+give you in charge. I'll--I'II report you to the police. Let me go this
+instant--this very instant, do you hear?--or I'll scream for help."
+
+The other two had come over to enjoy the fun. Schilsky turned to them
+with a comical air of dismay, and waved his arm. "Well I declare, if I
+haven't been and made a mistake!" he exclaimed, and slapped his
+forehead. "I'm out by I don't know how much--by twenty years, at least.
+No thank you, Madam, keep your kisses! You're much too old and ugly
+for me."
+
+He flourished his big hat in her face, pirouetted on his heel, and the
+three of them went down the street, hallooing with laughter.
+
+They had supper together at the BAVARIA, Schilsky standing treat; for
+they had gone by way of the BRUDERSTRASSE, where he called in to
+investigate the vase mentioned in the letter. Afterwards, they
+commenced an informal wandering from one haunt to another, now by
+themselves, now with stray acquaintances. Krafft, who was still
+enfeebled by the previous night, and who, under the best of
+circumstances, could not carry as much as his friends, was the first
+to give in. For a time, they got him about between them. Then Furst
+grew obstreperous, and wanted to pour his beer on the floor as soon as
+it was set before him, so that they were put out of two places, in the
+second of which they left Krafft. But the better half of the night was
+over before Schilsky was comfortably drunk, and in a state to unbosom
+himself to a sympathetic waitress, about the hardship it was to be
+bound to some one older than yourself. He shed tears of pity at
+his lot, and was extremely communicative. "'N KORPER, SCHA-AGE IHNEN,
+'N KORPER!" but old, old, a "HALB'SCH JAHR' UND'RT" older than he was,
+and desperately jealous.
+
+"It's too bad; such a nice young man as you are," said the MAMSELL,
+who, herself not very sober, was sitting at ease on his knee, swinging
+her legs. "But you nice ones are always chicken-hearted. Treat her as
+she deserves, my chuck, and make no bones about it. Just let her
+rip--and you stick to me!"
+
+
+
+
+VI.
+
+
+
+One cold, windy afternoon, when dust was stirring and rain seemed
+imminent, Maurice Guest walked with bent head and his hat pulled over
+his eyes. He was returning from the ZEITZERSTRASSE, where, in a
+photographer's show-case, he had a few days earlier discovered a large
+photograph of Louise. This was a source of great pleasure to him.
+Here, no laws of breeding or delicacy hindered him from gazing at her
+as often as he chose.
+
+On this particular day, whether he had looked too long, or whether the
+unrest of the weather, the sense of something impending, the dusty
+dryness that craved rain, had got into his blood and disquieted him:
+whatever it was, he felt restless and sick for news of her, and, at
+this very moment, was on his way to Madeleine, in the foolish hope of
+hearing her name.
+
+But a little adventure befell him which made him forget his intention.
+
+He was about to turn the corner of a street, when a sudden blast of
+wind swept round, bearing with it some half dozen single sheets of
+music. For a moment they whirled high, then sank fluttering to the
+ground, only to rise again and race one another along the road.
+Maurice instinctively gave chase, but it was not easy to catch them;
+no sooner had he secured one than the next was out of his reach.
+
+Meanwhile their owner, a young and very pretty girl, looked on and
+laughed, without making any effort to help him; and the more he
+exerted himself, the more she laughed. In one hand she was carrying a
+violin-case, in the other a velvet muff, which now and again she
+raised to her lips, as if to conceal her mirth. It was a graceful
+movement, but an unnecessary one, for her laughter was of that
+charming kind, which never gives offence; and, besides that, although
+it was continuous, it was neither hearty enough nor frank enough to be
+unbecoming the face was well under control. She stood there, with her
+head slightly on one side, and the parted lips showed both rows of
+small, even teeth; but the smile was unvarying, and, in spite of her
+merriment, her eyes did not for an instant quit the young man's face,
+as he darted to and fro.
+
+Maurice could not help laughing himself, red and out of breath
+though he was.
+
+"Now for the last one," he said in German.
+
+At these words she seemed more amused than ever. "I don't speak
+German," she answered in English, with a strong American accent.
+
+Having captured all the sheets, Maurice tried to arrange them for her.
+
+"It's my Kayser," she explained with a quick, upward glance, adding
+the next minute with a fresh ripple of laughter. "He's all to pieces."
+
+"You have too much to carry," said Maurice. "On such a windy day,
+too."
+
+"That's what Joan said--Joan is my sister," she continued. "But I guess
+it's so cold this afternoon I had to bring a muff along. If my fingers
+are stiff I can't play, and then Herr Becker is angry." But she
+laughed again as she spoke, and it was plain that the master's wrath
+did not exactly incite fear. "Joan always comes along, but to-day
+she's sick."
+
+"Will you let me help you?" asked Maurice, and a moment later he was
+walking at her side.
+
+She handed over music and violin to him without a trace of hesitation;
+and, as they went along the PROMENADE, she talked to him with as
+little embarrassment as though they were old acquaintances. It was so
+kind of him to help her, she thought; she couldn't imagine how she
+would ever have got home without him, alone against the wind; and she
+was perfectly sure he must be American--no one but an American would be
+so nice. When Maurice denied this, she laughed very much indeed, and
+was not sure, this being the case, whether she could like him or not;
+as a rule, she didn't like English people; they were stiff and horrid,
+and were always wanting either to be introduced or to shake hands.
+Here she carried her muff up to her lips again, and her eyes shone
+mischievously at him over the dark velvet. Maurice had never known
+anyone so easily moved to laughter; whenever she spoke she laughed,
+and she laughed at everything he said.
+
+Off the PROMENADE, where the trees were of a marvellous Pale green,
+they turned into a street of high spacious houses, the dark lines of
+which were here and there broken by an arched gateway, or the delicate
+tints of a spring garden. To a window in one of the largest houses
+Maurice's little friend looked up, and smiled and nodded.
+
+"There's my sister."
+
+The young man looked, too, and saw a dark, thin-faced girl, who, when
+she found four eyes fixed on her, abruptly drew in her head, and as
+abruptly put it out again, leaning her two hands on the sill.
+
+"She's wondering who it is," said Maurice's companion gleefully. Then,
+turning her face up, she made a speaking-trumpet of her hands, and
+cried: "It's all right, Joan.--Now I must run right up and tell her
+about it," she said to Maurice. "Perhaps she'll scold; Joan is very
+particular. Good-bye. Thank you ever so much for being so good to
+me--oh, won't you tell me your name?"
+
+The very next morning brought him a small pink note, faintly scented.
+The pointed handwriting was still childish, but there was a coquettish
+flourish beneath the pretty signature: Ephie Cayhill. Besides a
+graceful word of thanks, she wrote: WE ARE AT HOME EVERY SUNDAY. MAMMA
+WOULD BE VERY PLEASED.
+
+Maurice did not scruple to call the following week, and on doing so,
+found himself in the midst of one of those English-speaking coteries,
+which spring up in all large, continental towns. Foreigners were not
+excluded--Maurice discovered two or three of his German friends,
+awkwardly balancing their cups on their knees. In order, however, to
+gain access to the circle, it was necessary for them to have a
+smattering of English; they had also to be flint against any open or
+covert fun that might be made of them or their country; and above all,
+to be skilled in the art of looking amiable, while these visitors from
+other lands heatedly readjusted, to their own satisfaction, all that
+did not please them in the life and laws of this country that was
+temporarily their home.
+
+Mrs. Cayhill was a handsome woman, who led a comfortable, vegetable
+existence, and found it a task to rise from the plump sofa-cushion.
+Her pleasant features were slack, and in those moments of life which
+called for a sudden decision, they wore the helpless bewilderment of a
+woman who has never been required to think for herself. Her grasp on
+practical matters was rendered the more lax, too, by her being an
+immoderate reader, who fed on novels from morning till night, and
+slept with a page turned down beside her bed. She was for ever lost in
+the joys or sorrows of some fictitious person, and, in consequence,
+remained for the most part completely ignorant of what was going on
+around her. When she did happen to become conscious of her
+surroundings, she was callous, or merely indifferent, to them; for,
+compared with romance, life was dull and diffuse; it lacked the wilful
+simplicity, the exaggerative omissions, and forcible perspectives,
+which make up art: in other words, life demanded that unceasing work
+of selection and rejection, which it is the story-teller's duty to
+Perform for his readers. All novels were fish to Mrs. Cayhill's net;
+she lived in a world of intrigue and excitement, and, seated in her
+easy-chair by the sitting-room window, was generally as remote from
+her family as though she were in Timbuctoo.
+
+There was a difference of ten years in age between her daughters, and
+it was the younger of the two whose education was being completed.
+Johanna, the elder, had been a disappointment to her mother. Left to
+her own devices at an impressionable age, the girl had developed
+bookish tastes at the cost of her appearance: influenced by a
+free-thinking tutor of her brothers', she had read Huxley and Haeckel,
+Goethe and Schopenhauer. Her wish had been for a university career,
+but she was not of a self-assertive nature, and when Mrs. Cayhill, who
+felt her world toppling about her ears at the mention of such a thing,
+said: "Not while I live!" she yielded, without a further word; and the
+fact that such an emphatic expression of opinion had been drawn from
+the mild-tempered mother, made it a matter of course that no other
+member of the family took Johanna's part. So she buried her ambitions,
+and kept her mother's house in an admirable, methodical way.
+
+It was not the sacrifice it seemed, however, because Johanna adored
+her little sister, and would cheerfully have given up more than this
+for her sake. Ephie, who was at that time just emerging from
+childhood, was very pretty and precocious, and her mother had great
+hopes of her. She also tired early of her lesson-books, and, soon
+after she turned sixteen, declared her intention of leaving school. As
+at least a couple of years had still to elapse before she was old
+enough to be introduced in society, Mrs. Cayhill, taking the one
+decisive step of her life, determined that travel in Europe should put
+the final touches to Ephie's education: a little German and French;
+some finishing lessons on the violin; a run through Italy and
+Switzerland, and then to Paris, whence they would carry back with them
+a complete and costly outfit. So, valiantly, Mrs. Cayhill had her
+trunks packed, and, together with Johanna, who would as soon
+have thought of denying her age as of letting these two helpless
+beings go out into the world alone, they crossed the Atlantic.
+
+For some three months now, they had been established in Leipzig. A
+circulating library, rich in English novels, had been discovered; Mrs.
+Cayhill was content; and it began to be plain to Johanna that the
+greater part of their two years' absence would be spent in this place.
+Ephie, too, had already had time to learn that, as far as music was
+concerned, her business was not so much with finishing as with
+beginning, and that the road to art, which she with all the rest must
+follow, was a steep one. She might have found it still more arduous,
+had Herr Becker, her master, not been a young man and very
+impressionable. And Ephie never looked more charming than when, with
+her rounded, dimpled arm raised in an exquisite curve, she leaned her
+cheek against the glossy brown wood of her violin.
+
+She was pretty with that untouched, infantine prettiness, before which
+old and young go helplessly down. She was small and plump, with a
+full, white throat and neck, and soft, rounded hands and wrists, that
+were dimpled like a baby's. Her brown hair was drawn back from the low
+forehead, but, both here and at the back of her neck, it broke into
+innumerable little curls, which were much lighter in colour than the
+rest. Her skin, faintly tinged, was as smooth as the skin of a cherry;
+it had that exquisite freshness which is only to be found in a very
+young girl, and is lovelier than the bloom on ripe fruit. Her dark
+blue eyes were well opened, but the black lashes were so long and so
+peculiarly straight that the eyes themselves were usually hidden, and
+this made it all the more effective did she suddenly look up. Moulded
+like wax, the small, upturned nose seemed to draw the top lip after
+it; anyhow, the upper lip was too short to meet the lower, and
+consequently, they were always slightly apart, in a kind of
+questioning amaze. This mouth was the real beauty of the face: bright
+red, full, yet delicate, arched like a bow, with corners that went in
+and upwards, it belonged, by right of its absolute innocence, to the
+face of a little child; and the thought was monstrous that nature and
+the years would eventually combine to destroy so perfect a thing.
+
+She also had a charming laugh, with a liquid note in it, that made one
+think of water bubbling on a dry summer day.
+
+It was this laugh that held the room on Sunday afternoon, and
+drew the handful of young men together, time after time.
+
+Mrs. Cayhill, who, on these occasions, was wont to lay aside her book,
+was virtually a deeper echo of her little daughter, and Johanna only
+counted in so far as she made and distributed cups of tea at the end
+of the room. She did not look with favour on the young men who
+gathered there, and her manner to them was curt and unpleasing. Each
+of them in turn, as he went up to her for his cup, cudgelled his brain
+for something to say; but it was no easy matter to converse with
+Johanna. The ordinary small change and polite commonplace of
+conversation, she met with a silent contempt. In musical chit-chat,
+she took no interest whatever, and pretended to none, openly indeed
+"detested music," and was unable to distinguish Mendelssohn from
+Wagner, "except by the noise;" while if a bolder man than the rest
+rashly ventured on the literary ground that was her special demesne,
+she either smiled at what he said, in a disagreeably sarcastic way, or
+flatly contradicted him. She was the thorn in the flesh of these young
+men; and after having dutifully spent a few awkward moments at her
+side, they stole back, one by one, to the opposite end of the room.
+Here Ephie, bewitchingly dressed in blue, swung to and fro in a big
+American rocking-chair--going backwards, it carried her feet right off
+the ground--and talked charming nonsense, to the accompaniment of her
+own light laugh, and her mother's deeper notes, which went on like an
+organ-point, Mrs. Cayhill finding everything Ephic said, matchlessly
+amusing.
+
+As Dove and Maurice walked there together for the first time--it now
+leaked out that Dove spent every Sunday afternoon in the
+LESSINGSTRASSE--he spoke to Maurice of Johanna. Not in a disparaging
+way; Dove had never been heard to mention a woman's name otherwise
+than with respect. And, in this case, he deliberately showed up
+Johanna's good qualities, in the hope that Maurice might feel
+attracted by her, and remain at her side; for Dove had fallen deeply
+in love with Ephie, and had, as it was, more rivals than he cared for,
+in the field.
+
+"You should get on with her, I think, Guest," he said slily. "You
+read these German writers she is so interested in. But don't be
+discouraged by her manner. For though she's one of the most unselfish
+women I ever met, her way of Speaking is sometimes abrupt. She reminds
+me, if it doesn't sound unkind, of a faithful watch-dog, or
+something of the sort, which cannot express its devotion as it would
+like to."
+
+When, after a lively greeting from Ephie, and a few pleasant words
+from Mrs. Cayhill, Maurice found himself standing beside Johanna, the
+truth of Dove's simile was obvious to him. This dark, unattractive
+girl had apparently no thought for anything but her tea-making; she
+moved the cups this way and that, filled the pot with water, blew out
+and lighted again the flame of the spirit-lamp, without paying the
+least heed to Maurice, making, indeed, such an ostentatious show of
+being occupied, that it would have needed a brave man to break in upon
+her duties with idle words. He remained standing, however, in a
+constrained silence, which lasted until she could not invent anything
+else to do, and was obliged to drink her own tea. Then he said
+abruptly, in a tone which he meant to be easy, but which was only
+jaunty: "And how do you like being in Germany, Miss Cayhill? Does it
+not seem very strange after America?"
+
+Johanna lifted her shortsighted eyes to his face, and looked coolly
+and disconcertingly at him through her glasses, as if she had just
+become aware of his presence.
+
+"Strange? Why should it?" she asked in an unfriendly tone.
+
+"Why, what I mean is, everything must be so different here from what
+you are accustomed to--at least it is from what we are used to in
+England," he corrected himself. "The ways and manners, and the
+language, and all that sort of thing, you know."
+
+"Excuse me, I do not know," she answered in the same tone as before.
+"If a person takes the trouble to prepare himself for residence in a
+foreign country, nothing need seem either strange or surprising. But
+English people, as is well known, expect to find a replica of England
+in every country they go to."
+
+There was a pause, in which James, the pianist, who was a regular
+visitor, approached to have his cup refilled. All the circle knew, of
+course, that Johanna was "doing for a new man"; and it seemed to
+Maurice that James half closed one eye at him, and gave him a small,
+sympathetic nudge with his elbow.
+
+So he held to his guns. When James had retired, he began anew, without
+preamble.
+
+"My friend Dove tells me you are interested in German
+literature?" he said with a slight upward inflection in his voice.
+
+Johanna did not reply, but she shot a quick glance at him, and
+colouring perceptibly, began to fidget with the tea-things.
+
+"I've done a little in that line myself," continued Maurice, as she
+made no move to answer him. "In a modest way, of course. Just lately I
+finished reading the JUNGFRAU VON ORLEANS."
+
+"Is that so?" said Johanna with an emphasis which made him colour
+also.
+
+"It is very fine, is it not?" he asked less surely, and as she again
+acted as though he had not spoken, he lost his presence of mind. "I
+suppose you know it? You're sure to."
+
+This time Johanna turned scarlet, as if he had touched her on a sore
+spot, and answered at once, sharply and rudely. "And I suppose," she
+said, and her hands shook a little as they fussed about the tray,
+"that you have also read MARIA STUART, and TELL, and a page or two of
+Jean Paul. You have perhaps heard of Lessing and Goethe, and you
+consider Heine the one and only German poet."
+
+Maurice did not understand what she meant, but she had spoken so
+loudly and forbiddingly that several eyes were turned on them, making
+it incumbent on him not to take offence. He emptied his cup, and put
+it down, and tried to give the matter an airy turn.
+
+"And why not?" he asked pleasantly. "Is there anything wrong in
+thinking so? Schiller and Goethe WERE great poets, weren't they? And
+you will grant that Heine is the only German writer who has had
+anything approaching a style?"
+
+Johanna's face grew stony. "I have no intention of granting anything,"
+she said. "Like all English people--it flatters your national vanity, I
+presume--you think German literature began and ended with Heine.--A
+miserable Jew!"
+
+"Yes, but I say, one can hardly make him responsible for being a Jew,
+can you? What has that got to do with it?" exclaimed Maurice, this
+being a point of view that had never presented itself to him. And as
+Johanna only murmured something that was inaudible, he added lamely:
+"Then you don't think much of Heine?"
+
+But she declined to be drawn into a discussion, even into an
+expression of opinion, and the young man continued, with apology in
+his tone: "It may be bad taste on my part, of course. But one
+hears it said on every side. If you could tell me what I ought to
+read . . . or, perhaps, advise me a little?" he ended tentatively.
+
+"I don't lend my books," said Johanna more rudely than she had yet
+spoken. And that was all Maurice could get from her. A minute or two
+later, she rose and went out of the room.
+
+It became much less restrained as soon as the door had closed behind
+her. Ephie laughed more roguishly, and Mrs. Cayhill allowed herself to
+find what her little daughter said, droller than before. With an
+appearance of unconcern, Maurice strolled back to the group by the
+window. Dove was also talking of literature.
+
+"That reminds me, how did you like the book I lent you on Wednesday,
+Mrs. Cayhill?" he asked, at the same instant springing forward to pick
+up Ephie's handkerchief, which had fallen to the ground.
+
+"Oh, very much indeed, very interesting, very good of you," answered
+Mrs. Cayhill. "Ephie, darling, the sun is shining right on your face."
+
+"What was it?" asked James, while Dove jumped up anew to lower the
+blind, and Ephie raised a bare, dimpled arm to shade her eyes.
+
+Mrs. Cayhill could not recollect the title just at once she had a
+"wretched memory for names"--and went over what she had been reading.
+
+"Let me see, it was . . . no, that was yesterday: SHADOWED BY THREE, a
+most delightful Book. On Friday, RICHARD ELSMERE, and--oh, yes, I know,
+it was about a farm, an Australian farm."
+
+"THE STORY OF AN AFRICAN FARM," put in Dove mildly, returning to his
+seat.
+
+"Australian or African, it doesn't matter which," said Mrs. Cayhill.
+"Yes, a nice book, but a little coarse in parts, and very foolish at
+the end--the disguising, and the dying out of doors, and the
+looking-glass, and all that."
+
+"I must say I think it a very powerful book," said Dove solemnly.
+"That part, you know, where the boy listens to the clock ticking in
+the night, and thinks to himself that with every tick, a soul goes
+home to God. A very striking idea!"
+
+"Why, I think it must be a horrid book," cried Ephie. "All about
+dying. Fancy some one dying every minute. It couldn't possibly
+be true. For then the world would soon be empty."
+
+"Always there are coming more into it," said Furst, in his blunt,
+broken English.
+
+A pause ensued. Dove flicked dust off his trouser-leg; and the
+American men present were suddenly fascinated by the bottoms of their
+cups. Ephie was the first to regain her composure.
+
+"Now let us talk of something pleasant, something quite different--from
+dying." She turned and, over her shoulder, laughed mischievously at
+Maurice, who was siting behind her. Then, leaning forward in her
+chair, with every eye upon her, she told how Maurice had saved her
+music from the wind, and, with an arch face, made him appear very
+ridiculous. By her prettily exaggerated description of a heated,
+perspiring young man, darting to and fro, and muttering to himself in
+German, her hearers, Maurice included, were highly diverted--and no one
+more than Mrs. Cayhill.
+
+"You puss, you puss!" she cried, wiping her eyes and shaking a finger
+at the naughty girl.
+
+The general amusement had hardly subsided when Furst rose to his feet,
+and, drawing his heels together, made a flowery little speech, the
+gist of which was, that he would have esteemed himself a most
+fortunate man, had he been in Maurice's place. Ephie and her mother
+exchanged looks, and shook with ill-concealed mirth, so that Furst,
+who had spoken serioulsy and in good faith, sat down red and
+uncomfortable; and Boehmer, who was dressed in what he believed to be
+American fashion, smiled in a superior manner, to show he was aware
+that Furst was making himself ridiculous.
+
+"Look here, Miss Ephie," said James; "the next time you have to go out
+alone, just send for me, and I'll take care of you."
+
+"Or me" said Dove. "You have only to let me know."
+
+"No, no, Mr. Dove!" cried Mrs. Cayhill. "You do far too much for her
+as it is. You'll spoil her altogether."
+
+But at this, several of the young men exclaimed loudly: that would be
+impossible. And Ephie coloured becomingly, raised her lashes, and
+distributed winning smiles. Then quiet had been restored, she assured
+them that they all very kind, but she would never let anyone go with
+her but Joan--dear old Joan. They could not imagine how fond she was of
+Joan.
+
+"She is worth more than all of you put together." And at the
+cries of: "Oh, oh!" she was thrown into a new fit of merriment, and
+went still further. "I would not give Joan's little finger for anyone
+in the world."
+
+And meanwhile, as all her hearers--all, that is to say, except Dove,
+who sat moody, fingering his slight moustache, and gazing at Ephie
+with fondly reproachful eyes--as all of them, with Mrs. Cayhill at
+their head, made vehement protest against this sweeping assertion,
+Johanna sat alone in her bedroom, at the back of the house. It was a
+dull room, looking on a courtyard, but she was always glad to escape
+to it from the flippant chatter in the sitting-room. Drawing a little
+table to the window, she sat down and began to read. But, on this day,
+her thoughts wandered; and, ultimately, propping her chin on her hand,
+she fell into reverie, which began with something like "the fool and
+his Schiller!" and ended with her rising, and going to the
+well-stocked book-shelves that stood at the foot of the bed.
+
+She took out a couple of volumes and looked through them, then
+returned them to their places on the shelf. No, she said to herself,
+why should she? What she had told the young man was true: she never
+lent her books; he would soil them, or, worse still, not appreciate
+them as he ought--she could not give anyone who visited there on
+Sunday, credit for a nice taste.
+
+Unknown to herself, however, something worked in her, for, the very
+next time Maurice was there, she met him in the passage, as he was
+leaving, and impulsively thrust a paper parcel into his hand.
+
+"There is a book, if you care to take it."
+
+He did not express the surprise he felt, nor did he look at the title.
+But Ephie, who was accompanying him to the door, made a face of
+laughing stupefaction behind her sister's back, and went out on the
+landing with him, to whisper: "What HAVE you been doing to Joan?"--at
+which remark, and at Maurice's blank face, she laughed so immoderately
+that she was forced to go down the stairs with him, for fear Joan
+should hear her; and, in the house-door, she stood, a white-clad
+little figure, and waved her hand to him until he turned the corner.
+
+Having read the first volume of HAMMER UND AMBOSS deep into two
+nights, Maurice returned it and carried away the second. But it was
+only after he had finished PROBLEMATISCHE NATUREN, and had
+expressed himself with due enthusiasm, that Johanna began to thaw a
+little. She did not discuss what he read with him; but, going on the
+assumption that a person who could relish her favourite author had
+some good in him, she gave the young man the following proof of her
+favour.
+
+Between Ephie and him there had sprung up spontaneously a mutual
+liking, which it is hard to tell the cause of. For Ephie knew nothing
+of Maurice's tastes, interests and ambitions, and he did not dream of
+asking her to share them. Yet, with the safe instincts of a young
+girl, she chose him for a brother from among all her other
+acquaintances; called him "Morry"; scarcely ever coquetted with him;
+and let him freely into her secrets. It is easier to see why Maurice
+was attracted to her; for not only was Ephie pretty and charming; she
+was also adorably equable--she did not know what it was to be out of
+humour. And she was always glad to see him, always in the best
+possible spirits. When he was dull or tired, it acted like a tonic on
+him, to sit and let her merry chatter run over him. And soon, he found
+plenty of makeshifts to see her; amongst other things, he arranged to
+help her twice a week with harmony, which was, to her, an unexplorable
+abyss; and he ransacked the rooms and shelves of his acquaintances to
+find old Tauchnitz volumes to lend to Mrs. Cayhill.
+
+The latter paid even less attention to the sudden friendship of her
+daughter with this young man than the ordinary American mother would
+have done; but Johanna's toleration of it was, for the most part, to
+be explained by the literary interests before mentioned. For Johanna
+was always in a tremble lest Ephie should become spoiled; and
+thoughtless Ephie could, at times, cause her a most subtle torture, by
+being prettily insincere, by assuming false coquettish airs, or by
+seeming to have private thoughts which she did not confide to her
+sister. This, and the knowledge that Ephie was now of an age when
+every day might be expected to widen the distance between them,
+sometimes made Johanna very gruff and short, even with Ephie herself.
+As her sister, she alone knew how much was good and true under the
+child's light exterior; she admired in Ephie all that she herself had
+not--her fair prettiness, her blithe manner, her easy, graceful
+words--and, had it been necessary, she would have gone down on her
+knees to remove the stones from Ephie's path.
+
+Thus although on the casual observer, Johanna only made the impression
+of a dark, morose figure, which hovered round two childlike
+beings, intercepting the sunshine of their lives, yet Maurice had soon
+come often enough into contact with her to appreciate her
+unselfishness; and, for the care she took of Ephie, he could almost
+have liked her, had Johanna shown the least readiness to be liked.
+Naturally, he did not understand how highly he was favoured by her; he
+knew neither the depth of her affection for Ephie, nor the exact
+degree of contempt in which she held the young men who dangled there
+on a Sunday--poor fools who were growing fat on emotion and silly
+ideas, when they should have been taking plain, hard fare at college.
+To Dove, Johanna had a particular aversion; chiefly, and in a
+contradictory spirit, because it was evident to all that his
+intentions were serious. But she could not hinder wayward Ephie from
+making a shameless use of him, and then laughing at him behind his
+back--a laugh in which Mrs. Cayhill was not always able to refrain from
+joining, though it must be said that she was usually loud in her
+praises of Dove, at the expense of all visitors who were not American.
+
+"From these Dutch you can't expect much, one way or the other," she
+declared. "And young Guest sometimes sits there with a face as long as
+my arm. But Dove is really a most sensible young fellow--why, he thinks
+just as I do about Arnerica."
+
+And as a special mark of favour, when Dove left the house on Sunday
+afternoon, his pockets bulged with NEW YORK HERALDS.
+
+
+
+
+VII.
+
+
+
+Meanwhile, before the blinds in the BRUDERSTRASSE were drawn up again,
+Maurice had found his way back to Madeleine. When they met, she smiled
+at him in a somewhat sarcastic manner, but no reference was made to
+the little falling-out they had had, and they began afresh to read and
+play together. On the first afternoon, Maurice was full of his new
+friends, and described them at length to her. But Madeleine damped his
+ardour.
+
+"I know them, yes, of course," she said. "The usual Americans--even
+the blue-stocking, from whom heaven defend us. The little one is
+pretty enough as long as she keeps her mouth shut. But the moment she
+speaks, every illusion is shattered.--Why I don't go there on a Sunday?
+Good gracious, do you think they want me?--me, or any other petticoat?
+Are honours made to be divided?--No, Maurice, I don't like Americans. I
+was once offered a position in America, as 'professor of piano and
+voice-production' in a place called Schenectady; but I didn't
+hesitate. I said to myself, better one hundred a year in good old
+England, than five in a country where the population is so inflated
+with its importance that I should always be in danger of running
+amuck. And besides that, I should lose my accent, and forget how to
+say 'leg'; while the workings of the stomach would be discussed before
+me with an unpleasant freedom."
+
+"You're too hard on them, Madeleine," said Maurice, smiling in spite
+of himself. But he was beginning to stand in awe of her sharp tongue
+and decided opinions; and, in the week that followed, he took himself
+resolutely together, and did not let a certain name cross his lips.
+
+Consequently, he was more than surprised on returning to his room one
+day, to find a note from Madeleine, saying that she expected Louise
+that very afternoon at three.
+
+It was not news to Maurice that Louise had come home. The evening
+before, as he turned out of the BRUDERSTRASSE, a closed droschke
+turned into it. After the vehicle had lumbered past him and
+disappeared, the thought crossed his mind that she might be
+inside it. He had not then had time to go back but early this very
+morning, he had passed the house and found the windows open. So
+Madeleine had engaged her immediately! As usual, Furst had kept him
+waiting for his lesson; it was nearly three o'clock already, and he
+was so hurried that he could only change his collar; but, on the way
+there, in a sudden spurt of gratitude, he ran to a flower-shop, and
+bought a large bunch of carnations.
+
+He arrived at Madeleine's room in an elation he did not try to hide;
+and over the carnations they had a mock reconciliation. Madeleine
+wished to distribute the flowers in different vases about the room,
+but he asked her put them all together on the centre table. She
+laughed and complied.
+
+For several weeks now, musical circles had been in a stir over the
+advent of a new piano-teacher named Schrievers--a person who called
+himself a pupil of Liszt, held progressive views, arid, being a free
+lance, openly ridiculed the antiquated methods of the Conservatorium.
+Madeleine was extremely interested in the case, and, as they sat
+waiting, talked about it to Maurice with great warmth, enlarging
+especially upon the number of people who had the audacity to call
+themselves pupils of Liszt. To Maurice, in his present frame of mind,
+the matter seemed of no possible consequence--for all he cared, the
+whole population of the town might lay claim to having been at
+Weimar--and he could not understand Madeleine finding it important. For
+he was in one of those moods when the entire consciousness is so
+intently directed towards some end that, outside this end, nothing has
+colour or vitality: all that has previously impressed and interested
+one, has no more solidity than papier mache. Meanwhile she spoke on,
+and did not appear to notice how time was flying. He was forced at
+length to take out his watch, and exclaim, in feigned surprise, at the
+hour.
+
+"A quarter to four already!"
+
+"Is it so late?" But on seeing his disturbance, she added: "It will be
+all right. Louise was never punctual in her life."
+
+He did his best to look unconcerned, and they spoke of that evening's
+ABENDUNTERHALTUNG, at which Furst was to play. But by the time the
+clock struck four, Maurice had relapsed, in spite of himself, into
+silence. Madeleine rallied him.
+
+"You must make shift with my company, Maurice. Not but what I am sure
+Louise will come. But you see from this what she is--the most
+unreliable creature in the world."
+
+To pass the time, she suggested that he should help her to make
+tea, and they were both busy, when the electric bell in the passage
+whizzed harshly, and the next moment there came a knock at the door.
+But it was not Louise. Instead, two persons entered, one of whom was
+Heinrich Krafft, the other a short, thickset girl, in a man's felt hat
+and a closely buttoned ulster.
+
+On recognising her visitors, Madeleine made a movement of annoyance,
+and drew her brows together. "You, Heinz!" she said.
+
+Undaunted by this greeting, Krafft advanced to her and, taking her
+hands, kissed them, one after the other. He was also about to kiss her
+on the lips, but she defended herself. "Stop! We are not alone."
+
+"Just for that reason," said the girl in the ulster drily.
+
+"What ill wind blows you here to-day?" Madeleine asked him.
+
+As he was still wearing his hat, she took it off, and dropped it on
+the floor beside him; then she recollected Maurice, and made him known
+to the other two. Coming forward, Maurice recalled to Krafft's memory
+where they had already met, and what had passed between them. Before
+he had finished speaking, Krafft burst into an unmannerly peal of
+laughter. Madeleine laughed, too, and shook her finger at him. "You
+have been up to your tricks again!" Avery Hill, the girl in the
+ulster, did not laugh aloud, but a smile played round her mouth, which
+Maurice found even more disagreeable than the mirth of which he had
+been the innocent cause. He coloured, and withdrew to the window.
+
+Krafft was so convulsed that he was obliged to sit down on the sofa,
+where Madeleine fanned him with a sheet of music. He had been seized
+by a kind of paroxysm, and laughed on and on, in a mirthless way, till
+Avery Hill said suddenly and angrily: "Stop laughing at once, Heinz!
+You will have hysterics."
+
+In an instant he was sobered, and now he seemed to fall, without
+transition, into a mood of dejection. Taking out his penknife, he set
+to paring his nails, in a precise and preoccupied manner. Madeleine
+turned to Maurice.
+
+"You'll wonder what all this is about," she said apologetically. "But
+Heinz is never happier than when he has succeeded in imposing on some
+one--as he evidently did on you."
+
+"Indeed!" said Maurice. Their laughter had been offensive to him, and
+he found Krafft, and Madeleine with him, exceedingly foolish.
+
+There was a brief silence. Krafft was absorbed in what he was doing,
+and Avery Hill, on sitting down, had lighted a cigarette, which she
+smoked steadily, in long-drawn whiffs. She was a pretty girl, in spite
+of her severe garb, in spite, too, of her expression, which was too
+composed and too self-sure to be altogether pleasing. Her face was
+fresh of skin, below smooth fair hair, and her lips were the red, ripe
+lips of Botticelli's angels and Madonnas. But the under one, being
+fuller than the other, gave the mouth a look of over-decision, and it
+would be difficult to imagine anything less girlish than were the cold
+grey eyes.
+
+"We came for the book you promised to lend Heinz," she said, blowing
+off the spike of ash that had accumulated at the tip of the cigarette.
+"He could not rest till he had it."
+
+Madeleine placed a saucer on the table with the request to use it as
+an ash-tray, and taking down a volume of De Quincey from the hanging
+shelf, held it out to Krafft.
+
+"There you are. It will interest me to hear what you make of it."
+
+Krafft ceased his paring to glance at the title-page. "I shall
+probably not open it," he said.
+
+Madeleine laughed, and gave him a light blow on the hand with the
+book. "How like you that is! As soon as you know that you can get a
+thing, you don't want it any longer."
+
+"Yes, that's Heinz all over," said Avery Hill. "Only what he hasn't
+got, seems worth having."
+
+Krafft shut his knife with a click, and put it back in his pocket."
+And that's what you women can't understand, isn't it?--that the best of
+things is the wishing for them. Once there, and they are nothing--only
+another delusion. The happiest man is the man whose wishes are never
+fulfilled. He always has a moon to cry for."
+
+"Come, come now," said Madeleine. "We know your love for paradox. But
+not to-day. There's no time for philosophising today. Besides, you are
+in a pessimistic mood, and that's a bad sign."
+
+"I and pessimism? Listen, heart of my heart, I have a new story for
+you." He moved closer to her, and put his arm round her neck. "There
+was once a man and his wife----"
+
+But, at the first word, Madeleine put her hands to her ears.
+
+"Mercy, have mercy, Heinz! No stories, I entreat you. And behave
+yourself, too. Take your arm away." She tried to remove it. "I have
+told you already, I can't have you here to-day. I'm expecting a
+visitor."
+
+He laid his head on her shoulder. "Let him come. Let the whole world
+come. I don't budge. I am happy here."
+
+"You must go and be happy elsewhere," said Madeleine more decisively
+than she had yet spoken. "And before she comes, too."
+
+"She? What she?"
+
+"Never mind."
+
+"For that very reason, Mada."
+
+She whispered a word in his ear. He looked at her, incredulously at
+first, then whimsically, with a sham dismay; and then, as if Maurice
+had only just taken shape for him, he turned and looked at him also,
+and from him to Madeleine, and back to him, finally bursting afresh
+into a roar of laughter. Madeleine laid her hand over his mouth. "Take
+him away, do," she said to Avery Hill--"as a favour to me."
+
+"Yes, when I have finished my cigarette," said the girl without
+stirring.
+
+Unsettled all the same, it would seem, by what he had heard, Krafft
+rose and shuffled about the room, with his hands in his pockets.
+Approaching Maurice, he even stood for a moment and contemplated him,
+with a kind of mock gravity. Maurice acted as if he did not see
+Krafft; long since, he had taken up a magazine, and, half hidden in a
+chair between window and writing-table, pretended to bury himself in
+its contents. But he heard very plainly all that passed, and, at the
+effect produced on Krafft by the name of the expected visitor, his
+hands trembled with anger. If the fellow had stood looking at him for
+another second, he would have got up and knocked him down. But Krafft
+turned nonchalantly to the piano, where his attention was caught by a
+song that was standing on the rack. He chuckled, and set about making
+merciless fun of the music--the composer was an elderly
+singing-teacher, of local fame. Madeleine grew angry, and tried to
+take it from him.
+
+"Hold your tongue, Heinz! If your own songs were more like this, they
+would have a better chance of success. Now be quiet! I won't hear
+another word. Herr Wendling is a very good friend of mine."
+
+"A friend! Heavens! She says friend as if it were an excuse for
+him.--Mada, let your friend cease making music if he hopes for
+salvation. Let him buy a broom and sweep the streets--let him----"
+
+"You are disgusting!"
+
+She had got the music from him, but he was already at the piano,
+parodying, from memory, the conventional accompaniment and sentimental
+words of the song. "And this," he said, "from the learned ass who is
+not yet convinced that the FEUERZAUBER is music, and who groans like a
+dredge when the last act of SIEGFRIED is mentioned. Wendling and
+Wagner! Listen to this!--for once, I am a full-blooded Wagnerite."
+
+He felt after the chords that prelude Brunnhilde's awakening by
+Siegfried. Until now, Avery Hill had sat indifferent, as though what
+went on had nothing to do with her; but no sooner had Krafft commenced
+to play than she grew uneasy; her eyes lost their cold assurance, and,
+suddenly getting up and going round to the front of the piano, she
+pushed the young man's hands from the keys. Krafft yielded his place
+to her, and, taking up the chords where he had left them, she went on.
+She played very well--even Maurice in his disturbance could, not but
+notice it--with a firm, masculine touch, and that inborn ease, that
+enviable appearance of perfect fitness, of being one with the
+instrument, which even the greatest players do not always attain. She
+had, besides, grip and rhythm, and long, close-knit hands insinuated
+themselves artfully among the complicated harmonies.
+
+When she began to play, Madeleine made "Tch, tch, tch!" and shook her
+head, in despair of now ever being rid of them. Krafft remained
+standing behind the piano at the window leaning his forehead on the
+glass. Maurice, who watched them both surreptitiously, saw his face
+change, and grow thoughful as he stood there; but when Avery Hill
+ceased abruptly on a discord, he wheeled round at once and patted her on
+the back. While looking over to Maurice, he said: "No doubt you found
+that very pretty and affecting?"
+
+"I think that's none of your business," said Maurice.
+
+But Krafft did not take umbrage. "You don't say so?" he murmured with
+a show of surprise.
+
+"Now, go, go, go!" cried Madeleine. "What have I done to be subjected
+to such a visitation? No, Heinz, you don't sit down again. Here's your
+hat. Away with you!--or I'll have you put out by force."
+
+And at last they really did go, to a cool bow from Maurice, who
+still sat holding his magazine. But Madeleine had hardly closed the
+door behind them, when, like a whirlwind, Krafft burst into the room
+again.
+
+"Mada, I forgot to ask you something," he said in a stage-whisper,
+drawing her aside. "Tell me--you KUPPLERIN, you!--does he know her?" He
+pointed over his shoulder with his thumb at Maurice.
+
+Madeleine shook her head, in real vexation and distress, and laid a
+finger on her lip. But it was of no use. Stepping over to Maurice,
+Krafft bowed low, and held his hat against his breast.
+
+"It is impossible for you to understand how deeply it has interested
+me to meet you," he said. "Allow me, from the bottom of my heart, to
+wish you success." Whereupon, before Maurice could say "damn!" he was
+gone again, leaving his elfin laugh behind him in the air, like smoke.
+
+Madeleine shut the door energetically and gave a sigh of relief.
+
+"Thank goodness! I thought they would never go. And now, the chances
+are, they'll run into Louise on the stairs. You'll wonder why I was so
+bent on getting rid of them. It's a long story. I'll tell it to you
+some other time. But if Louise had found them here when she came, she
+would not have stayed. She won't have anything to do with Heinz."
+
+"I don't wonder at it," said Maurice. He stood up and threw the
+magazine on the table.
+
+Madeleine displayed more astonishment than she felt. "Why what's the
+matter? You're surely not going to take what Heinz said, seriously? He
+was in a bad mood to-day, I know, and I noticed you were very short
+with him. But you mustn't be foolish enough to be offended by him. No
+one ever is. He is allowed to say and do just what he likes. He's our
+spoilt child."
+
+Maurice laughed. "The fellow is either a cad, or an unutterable fool.
+You, Madeleine, may find his impertinence amusing. I tell you
+candidly, I don't!" and he went on to make it clear to her that the
+fault would not be his, were Krafft and he ever in the same room
+together again. "The kind of man one wants to kick downstairs. What
+the deuce did he mean by guffawing like that when you told him who was
+coming?"
+
+"You mean about Louise?" Madeleine gave a slight shrug. "Yes,
+Maurice--unfortunately that was not to be avoided. But sit down
+again, and let me explain things to you. When you hear----"
+
+But he did not want explanations; he did not even want an answer to
+the question he had put; his chief concern now was to get away. To
+stay there, in that room, for another quarter of an hour, would be
+impossible, on such tenterhooks was he. To stay--for what? Only to
+listen to more slanderous hints, of the kind he had heard before. As
+it was, he did not believe he could face her frankly, should she still
+come. He felt as if, in some occult way, he had assisted at a
+tampering with her good name.
+
+"You will surely not be so childish?" said Madeleine, on seeing him
+take up his hat.
+
+"Childish?--you call it childish?" he exclaimed, growing angry with
+her, too. "Do you know what time it is? Three o'clock, you write me,
+and it's now a quarter past five. I have sat here doing nothing for
+over two mortal hours. It seems to me that's enough, without being
+made the butt of your friends' wit into the bargain. I'm sick of the
+whole thing. Good-bye."
+
+"We seem bound to quarrel," said Madeleine calmly. "And always about
+Louise. But there's no use in being angry. I am not responsible for
+what Heinz says and does. And on the mere chance of his coming in
+to-day, to sit down and unroll another savoury story to you, about
+your idol--would you have thanked me for it? Remember the time I did
+try to open you eyes!--It's not fair either to blame me because Louise
+hasn't come. I did my best for you. I can't help it if she's as stable
+as water."
+
+"I think you dislike her too much to want to help it," said Maurice
+grimly. He stood staring at the carnations, and his resentment gave
+way to depression, as he recalled the mood which he had bought them.
+
+"Come back as soon as you feel better. I'm not offended, remember!"
+Madeleine called after him as he went down the stairs. When she was
+alone, she said "Silly boy!" and, still smiling, made excuses for him:
+he had come with such pleasurable anticipations, and everything had
+gone wrong. Heinz had behaved disagracefully, as only he could. While
+as for Louise, one was no more able to rely on her than on a wisp straw;
+and she, Madeleine, was little better than a fool not to have known
+it.
+
+She moved about the room, putting chairs and papers in their
+places, for she could not endure disorder of any kind. Then she sat
+down to write a letter; and when, some half hour later, the girl for
+whom they had waited, actually came, she met her with exclamations of
+genuine surprise.
+
+"Is it really you? I had given you up long ago. Pray, do you know what
+time it is?"
+
+She took out her watch and dangled it before the other's eyes. But
+Louise Dufrayer hardly glanced at it. As, however, Madeleine
+persisted, she said: "I'm late, I know. But it was not my fault. I
+couldn't get away."
+
+She unpinned her hat, and shook back her hair; and Madeleine helped
+her to take off her jacket, talking all the time. "I have been much
+annoyed with you. Does it never occur to you that you may put other
+people in awkward positions, by not keeping your word? But you are
+just the same as of old--incorrigible."
+
+"Then why try to improve me?" said the other with a show of lightness.
+But almost simultaneously she turned away from Madeleine's
+matter-of-fact tone, passed her handkerchief over her lips, and after
+making a vain attempt to control herself, burst into tears.
+
+Madeleine eyed her shrewdly. "What's the matter with you?"
+
+But the girl who had sunk into a corner of the sofa merely shook her
+head, and sobbed; and Madeleine, to whom such emotional outbreaks were
+distasteful, went to the writing-table and busied herself there, with
+her back to the room. She did not ask for an explanation, nor did her
+companion offer any.
+
+Louise abandoned herself to her tears with as little restraint as
+though she were alone, holding her handkerchief to her eyes with both
+hands and giving deep, spasmodic sobs, which had apparently been held
+for some time in cheek.
+
+Afterwards, she sat with her elbow on the end of the sofa, her face on
+her hand, and, still shaken at intervals by a convulsive breath,
+watched Madeleine make fresh tea. But when she took the cup that was
+handed to her, she was so far herself again as to inquire whom she was
+to have met, although her voice still did not obey her properly.
+
+"Some one who is anxious to know you," replied Madeleine an air of
+mystery. "But he couldn't, or rather would not, wait so long."
+
+Louise showed no further curiosity. But when Madeleine said
+with meaning emphasis that Krafft had also been there in the course of
+the afternoon, she shrank perceptibly and flushed.
+
+"What! Does he still exist?" she asked with an effort at playfulness.
+
+"As you very well know," answered Madeleine drily. "Tell me, Louise,
+how do you manage to keep out of his way?"
+
+Louise made no rejoinder; she raised her cup to her lips, and the dark
+blood that had stained her face, in a manner distressing to see,
+slowly retreated. She continued to look down, and, the light of her
+big, dark eyes gone out, her face seemed wan and dead. Madeleine,
+studying her, asked herself, not for the first time, but, as always,
+with an unclear irritation, what the secret of the other's charm was.
+Beautiful she had never thought Louise; she was not even pretty, in an
+honest way--at best, a strange, foreign-looking creature, dark-skinned,
+black of eyes and hair, with flashing teeth, and a wonderfully mobile
+mouth--and some people, hopeless devotees of a pink and white fairness,
+had been known to call her plain. At this moment, she was looking her
+worst; the heavy, blue-black lines beneath her eyes were deepened by
+crying; her rough hair had been hastily coiled, unbrushed; and she was
+wearing a shabby red blouse that was pinned across in front, where a
+button was missing. There was nothing young or fresh about her; she
+looked her twenty-eight years, every day of them--and more.
+
+And yet, Madeleine knew that those who admired Louise would find her
+as desirable at this moment as at any other. Hers was a nameless
+charm; it was present in each gesture of the slim hands, in each turn
+of the head, in every movement of, the broad, slender body. Strangers
+felt it instantly; her very walk seemed provocative of notice; there
+was something in the way her skirts clung, and moved with her, that
+was different from the motion of other women's. And those whose type
+she embodied went crazy about her. Madeleine remembered as though it
+were yesterday, the afternoon on which Heinz had burst in to rave to
+her of his discovery; and how he would have dragged her out hatless to
+see this miracle. She remembered, too, after--days, when she had had
+him there, pacing the floor, and pouring out his feelings to her,
+infatuated, mad. An he was not the only one; they bowled over like
+ninepins; an it would be the same for years to come--was there any
+reason to wonder at Maurice Guest?
+
+Meanwhile, as Madeleine sat thinking these and similar things,
+Maurice was tramping through the ROSENTAL. The May afternoon, of
+lucent sunshine and heaped, fleecy clouds, had tempted a host of
+people into the great park, but he soon left them all behind him, for
+he walked as though he were pursued. These people, placid, and content
+of face, and the brightness of the day, jarred on him; he was out of
+patience with himself, with Madeleine, with the World at large.
+Especially with Madeleine, he bore her a grudge for her hints and
+innuendoes, for being behind the scenes, as it were, and also for
+being so ready to enlighten him; but, most of all, for a certain
+malicious gratification, which was to be felt in ever word she said
+about Louise.
+
+He went steadily on, against the level bars of the afternoon sun and, by
+the time he had tired himself bodily, he had worked off his inward
+vexation as well. As he walked back towards the town, he was almost
+ready to smile at his previous heat. What did all these others matter
+to him? They could not hinder him from carrying through what he had
+set his mind on. To-morrow was a day, and the next was another, and
+the next again; and life, considered thus in days and opportunities,
+was infinitely long.
+
+He now felt not only an aversion to dwelling on his thoughts of an
+hour back, but also the need of forgetting them altogether. And, in
+nearing the LESSINGSTRASSE, he followed an impulse to go to Ephie and
+to let her merry laugh wipe out the last traces of his ill-humour.
+
+Mrs. Cayhill and Johanna were both reading in the sitting room, and
+though Johanna agreeably laid aside her book, conversation languished.
+Ephie was sent for, but did not come, and Maurice was beginning to
+wish he had thought twice before calling, when her voice was heard in
+the passage, and, a moment later, she burst into the room, with her
+arms full of lilac, branches of lilac, which she explained had been
+bought early that morning at the flower-market, by one of their
+fellow-boarders. She hardly greeted Maurice, but going over to him
+held up her scented burden, and was not content till he had buried his
+face in it.
+
+"Isn't it just sweet?" she cried holding it high for all to see. "And
+the very first that is to be had. Again, Maurice again, put your face
+right down into the middle of it--like that."
+
+Mrs. Cayhill laughed, as Maurice obediently bowed his head, but
+Johanna reproved her sister.
+
+"Don't be silly, Ephie. You behave as if you had never seen
+lilac before."
+
+"Well, neither I have--not such lilac as this, and Maurice hasn't
+either," answered Ephie. "You shall smell it too, old Joan!"--and in
+spite of Johanna's protests, she forced her sister also to sink her
+face in the fragrant white and purple blossoms. But then she left them
+lying on the table, and it was Johanna who put them in water.
+
+Mrs. Cayhill withdrew to her bedroom to be undisturbed, and Johanna
+went out on an errand. Maurice and Ephie sat side by side on the sofa,
+and he helped her to distinguish chords of the seventh, and watched
+her make, in her music-book, the big, tailless notes, at which she
+herself was always hugely tickled, they`reminded her so of eggs. But
+on this particular evening, she was not in a studious mood, and bock,
+pencil and india-rubber slid to the floor. Both windows were wide
+open; the air that entered was full of pleasant scents, while that of
+the room was heavy with lilac. Ephie had taken a spray from one of the
+vases, and was playing with it; and when Maurice chid her for
+thoughtlessly destroying it, she stuck the pieces in her hair. Not
+content with this, she also put bits behind Maurice's ears, and tried
+to twist one in the piece of hair that fell on his forehead. Having
+thus bedizened them, she leaned back, and, with her hands clasped
+behind her head, began to tease the young man. A little bird, it
+seemed, had whispered her any number of interesting things about
+Madeleine and Maurice, and she had stored them all up. Now, she
+repeated them, with a charming impertinence, and was so provoking
+that, in laughing exasperation, Maurice took her fluffy, flower-bedecked
+head between his hands, and stopped her lips with two sound kisses.
+
+He acted impulsively, without reflecting, but, as soon as it was done,
+he felt a curious sense of satisfaction, which had nothing to do with
+Ephie, and was like a kind of unconscious revenge taken on some one
+else. He was not, however, prepared for the effect of his hasty deed.
+Ephie turned scarlet, and jumping up from the sofa, so that all the
+blossoms fell from her hair at once, stamped her foot.
+
+"Maurice Guest! How dare you!" she cried angrily, and, to his
+surprise, the young man saw that she had tears in her eyes.
+
+He had never known Ephie to be even annoyed, and was consequently
+dumfounded; he could not believe, after the direct provocation
+she had given him, that his crime had been so great
+
+"But Ephie dear!" he protested. "I had no idea, upon my word I hadn't,
+that you would take it like this. What's the matter? It was nothing.
+Don't cry. I'm a brute."
+
+"Yes, you are, a horrid brute! I shall never forgive you--never!" said
+Ephie, and then she began to cry in earnest.
+
+He put his arm round her, and coaxing her to sit down, wiped away her
+tears with his own handkerchief. In vain did he beg her to tell him
+why she was so vexed. To all he said, she only shook her head, and
+answered: "You had no right to do it."
+
+He vowed solemnly that it should never happen again, but at least a
+quarter of an hour elapsed before he succeeded in comforting her, and
+even then, she remained more subdued than usual. But when Maurice had
+gone, and she had dropped the scattered sprays of lilac out of the
+window on his head, she clasped her hands at the back of her neck, and
+dropped a curtsy to herself in the locking-glass.
+
+"Him, too!" she said aloud.
+
+She nodded at her reflected self, but her face was grave; for between
+these two, small, blue-robed figures was a deep and unsuspected secret.
+
+And Maurice, as he walked away, wondered to himself for still a little
+why she should have been so disproportionately angry; but not for
+long; for, when he was not actually with Ephie, he was not given to
+thinking much about her. Besides, from there, he went straight to the
+latter half of an ABENDANTERKALTUNG, to hear Furst play Brahms'
+VARIATIONS ON A THEME BY HANDEL
+
+
+
+
+VIII.
+
+
+
+That night he had a vivid dream. He dreamt that he was in a garden,
+where nothing but lilac grew--grew with a luxuriance he could not have
+believed possible, and on fantastic bushes: there were bushes like
+steeples and bushes smaller than himself, big and little, broad and
+slender, but all were of lilac, and in flower--an extravagant profusion
+of white and purple blossoms. He gazed round him in delight, and took
+an eager step forward; but, before he could reach the nearest bush, he
+saw that it had been an illusion: the bush was stripped and bare, and
+the rest were bare as well. "You're too late. It has all been
+gathered," he heard a voice say, and at this moment, he saw Ephie at
+the end of a long alley of bushes, coming towards him, her arms full
+of lilac. She smiled and nodded to him over it, and he heard her
+laugh, but when she was half-way down the path, he discovered his
+mistake: it was not Ephie but Louise. She came slowly forward, her
+laden arms outstretched, and he would have given his life to be able
+to advance and to take what she offered him; but he could not stir,
+could not lift hand or foot, and his tongue clove to the roof of his
+mouth. Her steps grew more hesitating, she seemed hardly to move; and
+then, just as she reached the spot where he stood, he found that it
+was not she after all, but Madeleine, who laughed at his
+disappointment and said: "I'm not offended, remember!"--The revulsion
+of feeling was too great; he turned away, without taking the flowers
+she held out to him--and awoke.
+
+This dream was present to him all the morning, like a melody that
+haunts and recalls. But he worked more laboriously than usual; for he
+was aggrieved with himself for having idled away the previous
+afternoon, and then, too, Furst's playing had made a profound
+impression on him. In vigorous imitation, he sat down to the piano
+again, after a hasty dinner snatched in the neighbourhood; but as he
+was only playing scales, he propped open before him a little volume of
+Goethe's poems, which Johanna had lent him, and suiting his scales to
+the metre of the lines, read through one after another of the poems he
+liked best. At a particular favourite, he stopped playing and held the
+book in both hands.
+
+He had hardly begun anew when the door of his room was
+unceremoniously opened, and Dove entered, in the jocose way he adopted
+when in a rosy mood. Maurice made a movement to conceal his book,
+merely in order to avoid the explanation he new must follow; but was
+too late; Dove had espied it. He did not belie himself on this
+occasion; he was extremely astonished to find Maurice "still at it,"
+but much more so to see a book open before him; and he vented his
+surprise loudly and wordily.
+
+"Liszt used to read the newspaper," said Maurice, for the sake of
+saying something. He had swung round in the piano-chair, and he yawned
+as he spoke, without attempting to disguise it.
+
+"Why, yes, of course, why not?" agreed Dove cordially, afraid lest he
+had seemed discouraging. "Why not, indeed? For those who can do it. I
+wish I could. But will you believe me, Guest"--here he seated himself,
+and settled into an attitude for talking, one hand inserted between
+his crossed knees--"will you believe me, when I say I find it a
+difficult business to read at all?--at any time. I find it too
+stimulating, too ANREGEND, don't you know? I assure you, for weeks
+now, I have been trying to read PAST AND PRESENT, and have not yet got
+beyond the first page. It gives one so much to think about, opens up
+so many new ideas, that I stop myself and say: 'Old fellow, that must
+be digested.' This, I see, is poetry"--he ran quickly and disparagingly
+through Maurice's little volume, and laid it down again. "I don't care
+much for poetry myself, or for novels either. There's so much in life
+worth knowing that is true, or of some use to one; and besides, as we
+all know, fact is stranger than fiction."
+
+They spoke also of Furst's performance the evening before, and Dove
+gave it its due, although he could not conceal his opinion that
+Furst's star would ultimately pale before that of a new-comer to the
+town, a late addition to the list of Schwarz's pupils, whom he, Dove,
+had been "putting up to things a bit." This was a "Manchester man" and
+former pupil of Halle's, and it would certainly not be long before he
+set the place in a stir. Dove had just come from his lodgings, where
+he had been permitted to sit and hear him practise finger-exercises.
+
+"A touch like velvet," declared Dove. "And a stretch!--I have never
+seen anything like it. He spans a tenth, nay, an eleventh, more easily
+than we do an octave."
+
+The object of Dove's visit was, it transpired, to propose that
+Maurice should accompany him that evening to the theatre, where DIE
+WALKURE was to be performed; and as, on this day, Dove had reasons for
+seeing the world through rose-coloured glasses, he suggested, out of
+the fulness of his heart, that they should also invite Madeleine to
+join them. Maurice was nothing loath to have the meeting with her
+over, and so, though it was not quite three o'clock, they went
+together to the MOZARTSTRASSE.
+
+They found Madeleine before her writing-table, which was strewn with
+closely written sheets. This was mail-day for America, she explained,
+and begged the young men to excuse her finishing an important letter
+to an American journalist, with whom she had once "chummed up" on a
+trip to Italy.
+
+"One never knows when these people may be of use to one," she was
+accustomed to say.
+
+Having addressed and stamped the envelope, and tossed it to the
+others, she rose and gave a hand to each. At Maurice, she smiled in a
+significant way.
+
+"You should have stayed, my son. Some one came, after all."
+
+Maurice laid an imploring finger on his lips, but Dove had seized the
+opportunity of glancing at his cravat in the mirror, and did not seem
+to hear.
+
+She agreed willingly to their plan of going to the theatre; she had
+thought of it herself; then, a girl she knew had asked her to come to
+hear her play in ENSEMBLESPIEL.
+
+"However, I will let that slip. Schelper and Moran-Olden are to sing;
+it will be a fine performance. I suppose some one is to be there," she
+said laughingly to Dove, "or you would not be of the party."
+
+But Dove only smiled and looked sly.
+
+Without delay, Madeleine began to detail to Maurice, the leading
+motives on which the WALKURE was built up; and Dove, having hummed,
+strummed and whistled all those he knew by heart, settled down to a
+discourse on the legitimacy and development of the motive, and
+especially in how far it was to be considered a purely intellectual
+implement. He spoke with the utmost good-nature, and was so
+unconscious of being a bore that it was impossible to take him amiss.
+Madeleine, however, could not resist, from time to time, throwing in a
+"Really!" "How extraordinary!" "You don't say so!" among his abstruse
+remarks. But her sarcasm was lost on Dove; and even if he had noticed
+it, he would only have smiled, unhit, being too sensible and
+good-humoured easily to take offence.
+
+It was always a mystery to his friends where Dove got his information;
+he was never seen to read, and there was little theorising about art,
+little but the practical knowledge of it, in the circles to which he
+belonged. But just as he went about picking up small items of gossip,
+so he also gathered in stray scraps of thought and information, and
+being by nature endowed with an excellent memory, he let nothing that
+he had once heard escape him. He had, besides, the talker's gift of
+neatly stringing together these tags he had pulled off other people,
+of connecting them, and giving them a varnish of originality.
+
+"By no means a fool," Madeleine was in the habit of saying of him. "He
+would be easier to deal with if he were."
+
+Here, on the leading motive as handled by Wagner and Wagner's
+forerunners, he had an unwritten treatise ripe in his brain. But he
+had only just compared the individual motives to the lettered ribbons
+that issue from the mouths of the figures in medieval pictures, and
+began to hint at the IDEE FIXE of Berlioz, when he was interrupted by
+a knock at the door.
+
+"HEREIN!" cried Madeleine in her clear voice; and at the sight of the
+person who opened the door, Maurice involuntarily started up from his
+chair, and taking his stand behind it, held the back of it firmly with
+both hands, in self-defence.
+
+It was Louise.
+
+On seeing the two young men, she hesitated, and, with the door-handle
+still in her hand, smiled a faint questioning smile at Madeleine,
+raising her eyebrows and showing a thin line of white between her
+lips.
+
+"May I come in?" she asked, with her head a little on one side.
+
+"Why, of course you know you may," said Madeleine with some asperity.
+
+And so Louise entered, and came forward to the table at which they had
+been sitting; but before anything further could be said, she raised
+her arms to catch up a piece of hair which had fallen loose on her
+neck. The young men were standing, waiting to greet her, Maurice still
+behind his chair; but she did not hurry on their account, or "just on
+their account did not hurry," as Madeleine mentally remarked.
+
+Both watched Louise, and followed her movements. To their eyes, she
+appeared to be very simply dressed; it was only Madeleine who
+appreciated the cost and care of this seeming simplicity. She wore a
+plain, close-fitting black dress, of a smooth, shiny stuff, which
+obeyed and emphasised the lines and outlines of her body; and, as she
+stood, with her arms upraised, composedly aware of being observed,
+they could see the line of her side rising and falling with the rise
+and fall of each breath. Otherwise, she wore a large black hat, with
+feathers and an overhanging brim, which threw shadows on her face, and
+made her eyes seem darker than ever.
+
+Letting her arms drop with a sigh of relief, she shook hands with
+Dove, and Dove--to Madeleine's diversion and Maurice's intense
+disgust--introduced Maurice to her as his friend. She looked full at
+the latter, and held out her hand; but before he could take it, she
+withdrew it again, and put both it and her left hand behind her back.
+
+"No, no," she said. "I mustn't shake hands with you to-day. Today is
+Friday. And to give one's hand for the first time on a Friday would
+bring bad luck--to you, if not to me."
+
+She was serious, but both the others laughed, and Maurice, having let
+his outstretched hand fall, coloured, and smiled rather foolishly. She
+did not seem to notice his discomfiture; turning to Madeleine, she
+began to speak of a piece of music she wished to borrow; and then
+Maurice had a chance of observing her at his ease, and of listening to
+her voice, in which he heard all manner of impossible things. But
+while Madeleine, with Dove's assistance, was looking through a pile of
+music, Louise came suddenly up to him and said: "You are not offended
+with me, are you?" She had a low voice, with a childish cadence in it,
+which touched him like a caress.
+
+"Offended? I with you?" He meant to laugh, but his voice shook.
+
+She stared at him, openly astonished, not only at his words, but also
+at the tone in which they were said; and the strange, fervent gaze
+bent on her by this man whom she saw for the first time in her life,
+confused her and made her uneasy. Slowly and coldly she turned away,
+but Madeleine, who was charitably occupying Dove as long as she could,
+did not take any notice of her. And as the young man continued to
+stare at her, she looked out of the window at the lowering grey sky,
+and said, with a shudder: "What a day for June!"
+
+All eyes followed hers, Maurice's with the rest; but almost instantly
+he brought them back again to her face.
+
+"Louise is a true Southerner," said Madeleine; "and is
+wretched if there's a cloud in the sky."
+
+Louise smiled, and he saw her strong white teeth. "It's not quite as
+bad as that," she said; and then, although herself not clear why she
+should have answered these searching eyes, she added, looking at
+Maurice: "I come from Australia."
+
+If she had said she was a visitant from another world, Maurice would
+not, at the moment, have felt much surprise; but on hearing the name
+of this distant land, on which he would probably never set foot, a
+sense of desolation overcame him. He realised anew, with a pang, what
+an utter stranger he was to her; of her past life, her home, her
+country, he knew and could know nothing.
+
+"That is very far away," he said, speaking out of this feeling, and
+then was vexed with himself for having done so. His words sounded
+foolish as they lingered on in the stillness that followed them, and
+would, he believed, lay him open to Madeleine's ridicule. But he had
+not much time in which to repent of them; the music had been found,
+and she was going again. He heard her refuse an invitation to stay:
+she had an engagement at half-past four. And now Dove, who,
+throughout, had kept in the background, looked at his watch and took
+up his hat: he had previously offered, unopposed, to do the long wait
+outside the theatre, which was necessary when one had no tickets, and
+now it was time to go. But when Louise heard the word theatre, she
+laid a slim, ungloved hand on Dove's arm.
+
+"The very thing for such a night!"
+
+They all said "AUF WIEDERSEHEN!" to one another; she did not offer to
+shake hands again, and Maurice nursed a faint hope that it was on his
+account. He opened the window, leant out, and watched them, until they
+went round the corner of the street.
+
+Madeleine smiled shrewdly behind his back, but when he turned, she was
+grave. She did not make any reference to what had passed, nor did she,
+as he feared she would, put questions to him: instead, she showed him
+a song of Krafft's, and asked him to play the accompaniment for her.
+He gratefully consented, without knowing what he was undertaking. For
+the song, a setting of a poem by Lenau, was nominally in C sharp
+minor; but it was black with accidentals, and passed through many keys
+before it came to a close in D flat major. Besides this, the right
+hand had much hard passage-work in quaint scales and broken
+octaves, to a syncopated bass of chords that were adapted to the
+stretch of no ordinary hand.
+
+"LIEBLOS UND OHNE GOTT AUF EINER HAIDE," sang Madeleine on the high F
+sharp; but Maurice, having collected neither his wits nor his fingers,
+began blunderingly, could not right himself, and after scrambling
+through a few bars, came to a dead stop, and let his hands fall from
+the keys.
+
+"Not to-day, Madeleine."
+
+She laughed good-naturedly. "Very well--not to-day. One shouldn't ask
+you to believe to-day that DIE GANZE WELT IST ZUM VERZWEIFELN
+TRAURIG."
+
+While she made tea, he returned to the window, where he stood with his
+hands in his pockets, lost in thought. He told himself once more what
+he found it impossible to believe: that he was going to see Louise
+again in a few hours; and not only to see her, but to speak to her, to
+be at her side. And when his jubilation at this had subsided, he went
+over in memory all that had just taken place. His first impression, he
+could afford now to admit it, had been almost one of disappointment:
+that came from having dreamed so long of a shadowy being, whom he had
+called by her name, that the real she was a stranger to him.
+Everything about her had been different from what he had expected--her
+voice, her smile, her gestures--and in the first moments of their
+meeting, he had been chill with fear, lest--lest . . . even yet he did
+not venture to think out the thought. But this first sensation of
+strangeness over, he had found her more charming, more desirable, than
+even he had hoped; and what almost wrung a cry of pleasure from him as
+he remembered it, was that not the smallest trifle--no touch of
+coquetry, no insincerely spoken word--had marred the perfect impression
+of the whole. To know her, to stand before her, he recognised it now,
+gave the lie to false slander and report. Hardest of all, however, was
+it to grasp that the meeting had actually come to pass and was over:
+it had been so ordinary, so everyday, the most natural thing in the
+world; there had been no blast of trumpets, nor had any occult
+sympathy warned her that she was in the presence of one who had
+trembled for weeks at the idea of this moment and again he leaned
+forward and gazed at the spot in the street, where she had disappeared
+from sight. He was filled with envy of Dove--this was the latter's
+reward for his unfailing readiness to oblige others--and in fancy he
+saw Dove walking street after street at her side.
+
+In reality, the two parted from each other shortly after turning the
+first corner.
+
+On any other day, Dove would have been still more prompt to take leave
+of his companion; but, on this particular one, he was in the mood to
+be a little reckless. In the morning, he had received, with a
+delightful shock, his first letter from Ephie, a very frank, warmly
+written note, in which she relied on his great kindness to secure her,
+WITHOUT FAIL--these words were deeply underscored--two places in the
+PARQUET of the theatre, for that evening's performance. Not the letter
+alone, but also its confiding tone, and the reliance it placed in him,
+had touched Dove to a deep pleasure; he had been one of the first to
+arrive at the box-office that morning, and, although he had not
+ventured, unasked, to take himself a seat beside the sisters, he was
+now living in the anticipation of promenading the FOYER with them in
+the intervals between the acts, and of afterwards escorting them home.
+
+On leaving Louise he made for the theatre with a swinging stride--had
+he been in the country, stick in hand, he would have slashed off the
+heads of innumerable green and flowering things. As it was, he
+whistled--an unusual thing for him to do in the street--then assumed the
+air of a man hard pressed for time. Gradually the passers-by began to
+look at him with the right amount of attention; he jostled, as if by
+accident, one or two of those who were unobservant, then apologised
+for his hurry. It was not pleasurable anticipation alone that was
+responsible for Dove's state of mind, and for the heightening and
+radiation of his self-consciousness. In offering to go early to the
+theatre, and to stand at the doors for at least three-quarters of an
+hour, in order that the others, coming considerably later might still
+have a chance of gaining their favourite seats: in doing this, Dove
+was not actuated by a wholly unselfish motive, but by the more
+complicated one, which, consciously or unconsciously, was present
+beneath all the friendly cares and attentions he bestowed on people.
+He was never more content with himself, and with the world at large,
+than when he felt that he was essential to the comfort and well-being
+of some of his fellow-mortals; than when he, so to speak, had a finger
+in the pie of their existence. It engendered a sense of importance,
+gave life fulness and variety; and this far outweighed the trifling
+inconveniences such welldoing implied. Indeed, he throve on them. For,
+in his mild way, Dove had a touch of Caesarean mania--of a lust for
+power.
+
+Left to herself, Louise Dufrayer walked slowly home to her room in the
+BRUDERSTRASSE, but only to throw a hasty look round. It was just as she
+had expected: although it was long past the appointed time, he was not
+there. At a flower-shop in a big adjoining street, she bought a bunch
+of many-coloured roses, and with these in her hands, went straight to
+where Schilsky lived.
+
+Mounting to the third floor of the house in the TALSTRASSE, she
+opened, without ceremony, the door of his room, which gave direct on
+the landing; but so stealthily that the young man, who was sitting
+with his back to the door, did not hear her enter. Before he could
+turn, she had sprung forward, her arms were round his neck, and the
+roses under his nose. He drew his face away from their damp fragrance,
+but did not look up, and, without removing his cigarette, asked in a
+tone of extreme bad temper: "What are you doing here, Lulu? What
+nonsense is this? For God's sake, shut the door!"
+
+She ruffled his hair with her lips. "You didn't come. And the day has
+seemed so long."
+
+He tried to free himself, putting the roses aside with one hand,
+while, with his cigarette, he pointed to the sheets of music-paper
+that lay before him. "For a very good reason. I've had no time."
+
+She went back and closed the door; and then, sitting down on his knee,
+unpinned her big hat, and threw it and the roses on the bed. He put
+his arm round her to steady her, and as soon as he held her to him,
+his ill-temper was vanquished. He talked volubly of the
+instrumentation he was busy with. But she, who could point out almost
+every fresh note he put on paper, saw plainly that he had not been at
+work for more than a quarter of an hour; and, in a miserable swell of
+doubt and jealousy, such as she could never subdue, she asked:
+
+"Were you practising as well?"
+
+He took no notice of these words, and she did not trust herself to say
+more, until, with his free hand, he began jotting again, making notes
+that were no bigger than pin-heads. Then she laid her hand on his. "I
+haven't seen you all day."
+
+But he was too engrossed to listen. "Look here," he said pointing to a
+thick-sown bar. "That gave me the deuce of a bother. While here "--and
+now he explained to her, in detail, the properties of the tenor-tuba
+in B, and the bass-tuba in F, and the use to which he intended to put
+these instruments. She heard him with lowered eyes, lightly
+caressing the back of his hand with her finger-tips. But when he
+ceased speaking, she rubbed her cheek against his.
+
+"It is enough for to-day. Lulu has been lonely."
+
+Not one of his thoughts was with her, she saw that, as he answered: "I
+must get this finished."
+
+"To-night?"
+
+"If I can. You know well enough, Lulu, when I'm in the swing----"
+
+"Yes, yes, I know. If only it wouldn't always come, just when I want
+you most."
+
+Her face lost its brightness; she rose from his knee and roamed about
+the room, watched from the wall by her pictured self.
+
+"But is there ever a moment in the day when you don't want me? You are
+never satisfied." He spoke abstractedly, without interest in the
+answer she might make, and, relieved of her weight, leant forward
+again, while his fingers played some notes on the table. But when she
+began to let her hands stray over the loose papers and other articles
+that encumbered chairs, piano and washstand, he raised his head and
+watched her with a sharp eye.
+
+"For goodness' sake, let those things alone, can't you?" he said after
+he had borne her fidgeting for some time.
+
+"You have no secrets from me, I suppose?" She said it with her
+tenderest smile, but he scowled so darkly in reply that she went over
+to him again, to touch him with her hand. Standing behind him, with
+her fingers in his hair, she said: "Just to-day I wanted you so much.
+This morning I was so depressed that I could have killed myself."
+
+He turned his head, to give her a significant glance.
+
+"Good reason for the blues, Lulu. I warned you. You want too much of
+everything. And can't expect to escape a KATER."
+
+"Too much?" she echoed, quick to resent his words. "Does it seem so to
+you? Would days and days of happiness be too much after we have been
+separated for a week?--after Wednesday night?--after what you said to me
+yesterday?"
+
+"Yesterday I was in the devil of a temper. Why rake up old scores? Now
+go home. Or at least keep quiet, and let me get something done."
+
+He shook his head free of her caressing hand, and, worse
+still, scratched the place where it had lain. She stood irresolute,
+not venturing to touch him again, looking hungrily at him. Her eyes
+fell on the piece of neck, smooth, lightly browned, that showed
+between his hair and the low collar; and, in an uncontrollable rush of
+feeling, she stooped and kissed it. As he accepted the caress, without
+demur, she said: "I thought of going to the theatre to-night, dear."
+
+He was pleased and showed it. "That's right--it's just what you need to
+cheer you up."
+
+"But I want you to come, too."
+
+He struck the table with his fist. "Good God, can't you get it into
+your head that I want to work?"
+
+She laughed, with ready bitterness. "I should think I could. That's
+nothing new. You are always busy when I ask you to do anything. You
+have time for everything and every one but me. If this were something
+you yourself wanted to do to-night, neither your work nor anything
+else would stand in the way of it; but my wishes can always be
+ignored. Have you forgotten already that I only came home the day
+before yesterday?"
+
+He looked sullen. "Now don't make a scene, Lulu. It doesn't do a whit
+of good."
+
+"A scene!" she cried, seizing on his words. "Whenever I open my lips
+now, you call it a scene. Tell me what I have done, Eugen! Why do you
+treat me like this? Are you beginning to care less for me? The first
+evening, the very first, I get home, you won't stay with me--you
+haven't even kept that evening free for me--and when I ask you about
+it, and try to get at the truth--oh, do you remember all the cruel
+things you said to me yesterday? I shall never forget them as long as
+I live. And now, when I ask you to come out with me--it is such a
+little thing-oh, I can't sit at home this evening, Eugen, I can't do
+it! If you really loved me, you would understand."
+
+She flung herself across the bed and sobbed despairingly. Schilsky,
+who had again made believe during this outburst to be absorbed in his
+work, cast a look of mingled anger and discomfort at the prostrate
+figure, and for some few moments, succeeded in continuing his
+occupation with a show of indifference; but as, in place of abating,
+her sobs grew more heart-rending, his own face began to twitch, and
+finally he dropped pencil and cigarette, and with a loud expression of
+annoyance went over to the bed.
+
+"Lulu," he said persuasively. "Come, Lulu," and bending over
+her, he laid his hands on her shoulders and tried to force her to
+rise. She resisted him with all her might, but he was the stronger,
+and presently he had her on her feet, where, with her head on his
+shoulder, she wept out the rest of her tears. He held her to him, and
+although his face above her was still dark, did what he could to
+soothe her. He could never bear, to see or to hear a woman cry, and
+this loud passionate weeping, so careless of anything but itself,
+racked his nerves, and filled him with an uneasy wrath against
+invisible powers.
+
+"Don't cry, darling, don't cry!" he said again and again. Gradually
+she grew calmer, and he, too, was still; but when her sobs were
+hushed, and she was clinging to him in silence, he put his hands on
+her shoulders and held her back from him, that he might look at her.
+His face wore a stubborn expression, which she knew, and which made
+him appear years older than he was.
+
+"Now listen to me, Lulu," he said. "When you behave in this way again,
+you won't see me afterwards for a week--I promise you that, and you
+know I keep my word. Instead of being glad that I am in the right mood
+and can get something done, you come here--which you know I have
+repeatedly forbidden you to do--and make a fool of yourself like this.
+I have explained everything to you. I could not possibly stay on
+Wednesday night--why didn't you time your arrival better? But it's just
+like you. You would throw the whole of one's future into the balance
+for the sake of a whim. Yesterday I was in a beast of a temper--I've
+admitted it. But that was made all right last night; and no one but
+you would drag it up again."
+
+He spoke with a kind of dogged restraint, which only sometimes gave
+way, when the injustice she was guilty of forced itself upon him.
+"Now, like a good girl, go home--go to the theatre and enjoy yourself.
+I don't mind you being happy without me. At least, go!--under any
+circumstances you ought not to be here. How often have I told you
+that!" His moderation swept over into the feverish irritation she knew
+so well how to kindle in him, and his lisp became so marked that he
+was almost unintelligible. "You won't have a rag of reputation left."
+
+"If I don't care, why should you?" She felt for his hand. But he
+turned his back. "I won't have it, I tell you. You know what
+the student underneath said the last time he met you on the stair."
+
+She pressed her handkerchief to her lips to keep from bursting anew
+into sobs, and there was a brief silence--he stood at the window,
+gazing savagely at the opposite house-wall--before she said: "Don't
+speak to me like that. I'm going--now--this moment. I will never do it
+again--never again."
+
+As he only mumbled disbelief at this, she put her arms round his neck,
+and raised her tear-stained face to his: her eyes were blurred and
+sunken with crying, and her lips were white. He knew every line of her
+face by heart; he had known it in so many moods, and under so many
+conditions, that he was not as sensitive to its influence as he had
+once been; and he stood unwilling, with his hands in his pockets,
+while she clung to him and let him feel her weight. But he was very
+fond of her, and, as she continued mutely to implore forgiveness--she,
+Lulu, his Lulu, whom every one envied him--his hasty anger once more
+subsided; he put his arms round her and kissed her. She nestled in
+against him, over-happy at his softening, and for some moments they
+stood like this, in the absolute physical agreement that always
+overcame their differences. In his arms, with her head on his
+shoulder, she smoothed back his hair; and while she gazed, with
+adoring eyes, at this face that constituted her world, she murmured
+words of endearment; and all the unsatisfactory day was annulled by
+these few moments of perfect harmony.
+
+It was he who loosened his grasp. "Now, it's all right, isn't it? No
+more tears. But you really must be off, or you'll be late."
+
+"Yes. And you?"
+
+He had taken up his violin and was tuning it, preparatory to playing
+himself back into the mood she had dissipated. He ran his fingers up
+and down, tried flageolets, and slashed chords across the strings.
+
+But when she had sponged her face and pinned on her hat, he said, in
+response to her beseeching eyes, which, as so often before, made the
+granting of this one request, a touchstone of his love for her: "Look
+here, Lulu, if I possibly can, I'll drop in at the end of the first
+act. Look out for me then, in the FOYER."
+
+And with this, she was forced to be content.
+
+
+
+
+IX.
+
+
+
+When, shortly after five o'clock, Madeleine and Maurice arrived at the
+New Theatre, they took their places at the end of a queue which
+extended to the corner of the main building; and before they had
+stood very long, so many fresh people had been added to the line, that
+it had lengthened out until it all but reached the arch of the
+theatre-cafe. Dove was well to the fore, and would be one of the first
+to gain the box-office. A quarter of an hour had still to elapse before
+the doors opened; and Maurice borrowed his companion's textbook, and
+read studiously, to acquaint himself with the plot of the opera.
+Madeleine took out Wolzogen's FUHRER, with the intention of brushing
+up her knowledge of the motives; but, before she had finished a page,
+she had grown so interested in what two people behind her were saying
+that she turned and took part in the conversation.
+
+The broad expanse of the AUGUSTUSPLATZ facing the theatre was bare and
+sunny. A policeman arrived, and ordered the queue in a straighter
+line; then he strolled up and down, stroking and smoothing his white
+gloves. More people came hurrying over the square to the theatre, and
+ranged themselves at the end of the tail. As the hands of the big
+clock on the post-office neared the quarter past five, a kind of
+tremor ran through the waiting line; it gathered itself more compactly
+together. One clock after another boomed the single stroke; sounds
+came from within the building; the burly policeman placed himself at
+the head of the line. There was a noise of drawn bolts and grating
+locks, and after a moment's suspense, light shone out and the big door
+was flung open.
+
+"Gent--ly!" shouted the policeman, but the leaders of the queue charged
+with a will, and about a dozen people had dashed forward, before he
+could throw down a stemming arm, on which those thus hindered leaned
+as on a bar of iron. Madeleine and Maurice were to the front of the
+second batch. And the arm down, in they flew also, Madeleine leading
+through the swing-doors at the side of the corridor, up the steep,
+wooden stairs, one flight after another, higher and higher, round and
+round, past one, two, three, tiers--a mad race, which ended
+almost in the arms of the gate-keeper at the topmost gallery.
+
+Dove was waiting with the tickets, and they easily secured the desired
+places; not in the middle of the gallery, where, as Madeleine
+explained while she tucked her hat and jacket under the seat, the
+monstrous chandelier hid the greater part of the stage, but at the
+right-hand side, next the lattice that separated the seats at
+seventy-five from those at fifty pfennigs.
+
+"This is first-rate for seeing," said Maurice.
+
+Madeleine laughed. "You see too much--that's the trouble. Wait till
+you've watched the men running about the bottom of the Rhine, working
+the cages the Rhine-daughters swim in."
+
+As yet, with the exception of the gallery, the great building was
+empty. Now the iron fire-curtain rose; but the sunken well of the
+orchestra was in darkness, and the expanse of seats on the ground
+floor far below, was still encased in white wrappings--her and there an
+attendant began to peel them off. Maurice, poring over his book, had
+to strain his eyes to read, and this, added to the difficulty of the
+German, and his own sense of pleasurable excitement, made him soon
+give up the attempt, and attend wholly to what Madeleine was saying.
+
+It was hot already, and the air of the crowded gallery was permeated
+with various, pungent odours: some people behind them were eating a
+strong-smelling sausage, and the man on the other side of the lattice
+reeked of cheap tobacco. When they had been in their seats for about a
+quarter of an hour, the lights throughout the theatre went up, and,
+directly afterwards, the lower tiers and the ground floor were
+sprinkled with figures. One by, one, the members of the orchestra
+dropped in,, turned up the lamps attached to their stands, and taking
+their instruments, commenced to tune and flourish; and soon stray
+motives and scraps of motives came mounting up, like lost birds, from
+wind and strings; the man of the drums beat a soft rattatoo, and
+applied his ear to the skins of his instruments. Now the players were
+in their seats, waiting for the conductor; late-comers in the audience
+entered with an air of guilty haste. The chief curtain had risen, and
+the stage was hidden only by stuff curtains, bordered with a runic
+scroll. A delightful sense of expectation pervaded the theatre.
+
+Maurice had more than once looked furtively at his watch; and, at
+every fresh noise behind him, he turned his head--turned so often that
+the people in the back seats grew suspicious, and whispered to one
+another. Madeleine had drawn his attention to everything worth
+noticing; and now, with her opera-glass at her eyes, she pointed out
+to him people whom he ought to know. Dove, having eaten a ham-roll at
+the buffet on the stair, had ever since sat with his opera-glass glued
+to his face, and only at this moment did he remove it with a sigh of
+relief.
+
+"There they are," said Madeleine, and showed Maurice the place in the
+PARQUET, where Ephie and Johanna Cayhill were sitting. But the young
+man only glanced cursorily in the direction she indicated; he was
+wondering why Louise did not come--the time had all but gone. He could
+not bring himself to ask, partly from fear of being disappointed,
+partly because, now that he knew her, it was harder than before to
+bring her name over his lips. But the conductor had entered by the
+orchestra-door; he stood speaking to the first violinist, and the next
+moment would climb into his seat. The players held their instruments
+in readiness--and a question trembled on Maurice's tongue. But at this
+very moment, a peremptory fanfare rang out behind the scene, and
+Madeleine said: "The sword motive, Maurice," to add in the same
+breath: "There's Louise."
+
+He looked behind him. "Where?"
+
+She nudged him. "Not here, you silly," she said in a loud whisper.
+"Surely you haven't been expecting her to come up here? PARQUET,
+fourth row from the front, between two women in plaid dresses--oh, now
+the lights have gone."
+
+"Ssh!" said at least half a dozen people about them: her voice was
+audible above the growling of the thunder.
+
+Maurice took her opera-glass, and, notwithstanding the darkness into
+which the theatre had been plunged, travelled his eyes up and down the
+row she named--naturally without success. When the curtains parted and
+disclosed the stage, it was a little lighter, but not light enough for
+him; he could not find the plaids; or rather there were only plaids in
+the row; and there was also more than one head that resembled hers. To
+know that she was there was enough to distract him; and he was
+conscious of the music and action of the opera merely as something
+that was going on outside him, until he received another sharp nudge
+from Madeleine on his righthand side.
+
+"You're not attending. And this is the only act you'll be able to make
+anything of."
+
+He gave a guilty start, and turned to the stage, where Hunding
+had just entered to a pompous measure. In his endeavours to understand
+what followed, he was aided by his companions, who prompted him
+alternately. But Siegmund's narration seemed endless, and his thoughts
+wandered in spite of himself.
+
+"Listen to this," said Dove of a sudden. "It's one of the few songs
+Wagner has written." He swayed his head from side to side, to the
+opening bars of the love-song; and Maurice found the rhythm so
+inviting that he began keeping time with his foot, to the indignation
+of a music-loving policeman behind them, who gave an angry: "Pst!"
+
+"One of the finest love-scenes that was ever written," whispered
+Madeleine in her decisive way. And Maurice believed her. From this
+point on, the music took him up and carried him with it; and when the
+great doors burst open, and let in the spring night, he applauded
+vigorously with the rest, keeping it up so long that Dove disappeared,
+and Madeleine grew impatient.
+
+"Let us go. The interval is none too long."
+
+They went downstairs to the first floor of the building, and entered a
+long, broad, brilliantly lighted corridor. Here the majority of the
+audience was walking round and round, in a procession of twos and
+threes; groups of people also stood at both ends and looked on; others
+went in and out of the doors that opened on the great loggia.
+Madeleine and Maurice joined the perambulating throng, Madeleine
+bowing and smiling to her acquaintances, Maurice eagerly scanning the
+faces that came towards him on the opposite side.
+
+Suddenly, a stout gentleman, in gold spectacles, kid gloves tight to
+bursting, and a brown frock coat, over the amplitude of which was
+slung an opera-glass, started up from a corner, and, seizing both
+Madeleine's hands, worked them up and down. At the same time, he made
+a ceremonious little speech about the length of time that had elapsed
+since their last meeting, and paid her a specious compliment on the
+taste she displayed in being present at so serious an opera. Madeleine
+laughed, and said a few words in her hard, facile German: the best was
+yet to come; "DIE MORAN" was divine as Brunnhilde. Having bowed and
+said: "Lohse" to Maurice, the stranger took no further notice of him,
+but, drawing Madeleine's hand through his arm, in a manner half
+gallant, half paternal, invited her to take ices with him, at the
+adjoining buffet.
+
+Maurice remained standing in a corner, scrutinising those who
+passed him. He exchanged a few words with one of his companions of the
+dinner-table--a small-bodied, big-headed chemical student called
+Dickensey, who had a reputation for his cynicism. He had just asked
+Maurice whether Siegmund reminded him more of a pork-butcher or a
+prizefighter, and had offered to lay a bet that he would never attend
+a performance in this theatre when the doors of Hunding's house flew
+open, or the sword lit up, at exactly the right moment--when Maurice
+caught sight of Dove and the Cayhills. He excused himself, and went to
+join them.
+
+Not one of the three looked happy. Johanna was unspeakably bored and
+did not conceal it; she gazed with contempt on the noisy, excited
+crowd. Dove was not only burning to devote himself to Ephie; he had
+also got himself into a dilemma, and was at this moment doing his best
+to explain the first act of the opera to Johanna, without touching on
+the relationship of the lovers. His face was red with the effort, and
+he hailed Maurice's appearance as a welcome diversion. But Ephie, too,
+greeted him with pleasure, and touching his arm, drew him back, so
+that they dropped behind the others. She was coquettishly dressed this
+evening, and looked so charming that people drew one another's
+attention to DIE REIZENDE KLEINE ENGLADNDERIN. But Maurice soon
+discovered that she was out of spirits, and disposed to be cross. For
+fear lest he was the offender, he asked if she had quite forgiven him,
+and if they were good friends again. "Oh, I had forgotten all about
+it!" But, a moment after, she was grave and quiet--altogether unlike
+herself.
+
+"Are you not enjoying yourself, Ephie?"
+
+"No, I'm not. I think it's stupid. And they're all so fat."
+
+This referred to the singers, and was indisputable; Maurice could only
+agree with her, and try to rally her. Meanwhile, he continued
+surreptitiously to scour the hall, with an evergrowing sense of
+disappointment.
+
+Then, suddenly, among those who were passing in the opposite
+direction, he saw Louise. In a flash he understood why he had not been
+able to find her in the row of seats: he had looked for her in a black
+dress, and she was all in white, with heavy white lace at her neck.
+Her companion was an Englishman called Eggis, of whom it was rumoured
+that he had found it advisable abruptly to leave his native land:
+here, he made a precarious living by journalism, and by doing
+odd jobs for the consulate. In spite of his shabby clothes, this man,
+prematurely bald, with dissipated features, had polished manners and
+an air of refinement; and, thoroughly enjoying his position, he was
+talking to his companion with vivacity. It was plain that Louise was
+only half listening to him; with a faint, absent smile on her lips,
+she, too, restlessly scanned the crowd.
+
+They all caught sight of Schilsky at the same moment, and Maurice, on
+whom nothing was lost, saw as well the quick look that passed between
+Louise and him, and its immediate effect: Louise flashed into a smile,
+and was full of gracious attentiveness to the little man at her side.
+
+Schilsky leant against the wall, with his hands in his pockets, his
+conspicuous head well back. On entering the FOYER, he had been pounced
+on by Miss Jensen. The latter, showily dressed in a large-striped
+stuff, had in tow a fellow-singer about half her own size, whom she
+was rarely to be seen without; but, on this occasion, the wan little
+American stood disconsolately apart, for Miss Jensen was paying no
+attention to him. In common with the rest of her sex, she had a
+weakness for Schilsky; and besides, on this evening, she needed
+specially receptive ears, for she had been studying the role of
+Sieglinde, and was full of criticisms and objections. As Ephie and
+Maurice passed them, she nodded to the latter and said: "Good evening,
+neighbour!" while Schilsky, seizing the chance, broke away, without
+troubling to excuse himself. Thus deserted, Miss Jensen detained
+Maurice, and so he lost the couple he wanted to keep in sight. But at
+the first pause in the conversation, Ephie plucked at his sleeve.
+
+"Let us go out on the balcony."
+
+They went outside on the loggia, where groups of people stood
+refreshing themselves in the mild evening air, which was pleasant with
+the scent of lilac. Ephie led the way, and Maurice followed her to the
+edge of the parapet, where they leaned against one of the pillars.
+Here, he found himself again in the neighbourhood of the other two.
+Louise, leaning both hands on the stone-work, was looking out over the
+square; but Schilsky, lounging as before, with his legs crossed, his
+hands in his pockets, had his back to it, and was letting his eyes
+range indifferently over the faces before him. As Maurice and Ephie
+came up, he yawned long and heartily, and, in so doing, showed all his
+defective teeth. Furtively watching them, Maurice saw him lean
+towards his companion and say something to her; at the same time, he
+touched with his fingertips the lace she wore at the front of her
+dress. The familiarity of the action grated on Maurice, and he turned
+away his head. When he looked again, a moment or two later, he was
+disturbed anew. Louise was leaning forward, still in the same
+position, but Schilsky was plainly conversing by means of signs with
+some one else. He frowned, half closed his eyes, shook his head, and,
+as if by chance, laid a finger on his lips.
+
+"Who's he doing that to?" Maurice asked himself, and followed the
+direction of the other's eyes, which were fixed on the corner where he
+and Ephie stood. He turned, and looked from side to side; and, as he
+did this, he caught a glimpse of Ephie's face, which made him observe
+her more nearly: it was flushed, and she was gazing hard at Schilsky.
+With a rush of enlightenment, Maurice looked back at the young man,
+but this time Schilsky saw that he was being watched; stooping, he
+said a nonchalant word to his companion, and thereupon they went
+indoors again. All this passed like a flash, but it left, none the
+less, a disagreeable impression, and before Maurice had recovered from
+it, Ephie said: "Let us go in."
+
+They pressed towards the door.
+
+"I'm poor company to-night, Ephie," he said, feeling already the need
+of apologising to her for his ridiculous suspicion. "But you are
+quiet, too." He glanced down at her as he spoke, and again was
+startled; her expression was set and defiant, but her baby lips
+trembled. "What's the matter? I believe you are angry with me for
+being so silent."
+
+"I guess it doesn't make any difference to me whether you talk or
+not," she replied pettishly. "But I think it's just as dull and stupid
+as it can be. I wish I hadn't come."
+
+"Would you like to go home?"
+
+"Of course I wouldn't. I'll stop now I'm here--oh, can't we go quicker?
+How slow you are! Do make haste."
+
+He thought he heard tears in her voice, and looked at her in
+perplexity. While he contemplated getting her into a quiet corner and
+making her tell him truthfully what the matter was, they came upon
+Madeleine, who had been searching everywhere for Maurice. Madeleine
+had more colour in her cheeks than usual, and, in the pleasing
+consciousness that she was having a successful evening, she brought
+her good spirits to bear on Ephie, who stood fidgeting beside them.
+
+"You look nice, child," she remarked in her patronising way.
+"Your dress is very pretty. But why is your face so red? One would
+think you had been crying."
+
+Ephie, growing still redder, tossed her head. "It's no wonder, I'm
+sure. The theatre is as hot as an oven. But at least my nose isn't red
+as well."
+
+Madeleine was on the point of retorting, but at this moment, the
+interval came to an end, and the electric bells rang shrilly. The
+people who were nearest the doors went out at once, upstairs and down.
+Among the first were Louise and Schilsky, the latter's head as usual
+visible above every one else's.
+
+"I will go, too," said Ephie hurriedly. "No, don't bother to come with
+me. I'll find my way all right. I guess the others are in front."
+
+"There's something wrong with that child to-night," said Madeleine as
+she and Maurice climbed to the gallery. "Pert little thing! But I
+suppose even such sparrow-brains have their troubles."
+
+"I suppose they have," said Maurice. He had just realised that the
+longed-for interval was over, and with it more of the hopes he had
+nursed.
+
+Dove was already in his seat, eating another roll. He moved along to
+make room for them, but not a word was to be got out of him, and as
+soon as he had finished eating, he raised the opera-glass to his eyes
+again. Behind his back, Madeleine whispered a mischievous remark to
+Maurice, but the latter smiled wintrily in return. He had searched
+swiftly and thoroughly up and down the fourth row of the PARQUET, only
+to find that Louise was not in it. This time there could be no doubt
+whatever; not a single white dress was in the row, and towards the
+middle a seat was vacant. They had gone home then; he would not see
+her again--and once more the provoking darkness enveloped the theatre.
+
+This second act had no meaning for him, and he found the various
+scenes intolerably long. Dove volunteered no further aid, and
+Madeleine's explanations were insufficient; he was perplexed and
+bored, and when the curtains fell, joined in the applause merely to
+save appearances. The others rose, but he said he would not go
+downstairs; and when they had drawn back to let Dove push by and hurry
+away, Madeleine said she, too, would stay. However they would at least
+go into the corridor, where the air was better. After they had
+promenaded several times up and down, they descended to a
+lower floor and there, through a little half-moon window that gave on
+the FOYER below, they watched the living stream which, underneath, was
+going round as before. Madeleine talked without a pause.
+
+"Look at Dove!" She pointed him out as he went by with the two
+sisters. "Did you ever see such a gloomy air? He might sit for Werther
+to-night. And oh, look, there's Boehmer with his widow--see, the
+pretty fattish little woman. She's over forty and has buried two
+husbands, but is crazy about Boehmer. They say she's going to marry
+him, though he's more than twenty years younger than she is."
+
+At this juncture, to his astonishment, Maurice saw Schilsky and
+Louise. He uttered an involuntary exclamation, and Madeleine
+understood it. She stopped her gossip to say: "You thought she had
+gone, didn't you? Probably she has only changed her seat. They do that
+sometimes--he hates PARQUET." And, after a pause: "How cross she looks!
+She's evidently in a temper about something. I never saw people hide
+their feelings as badly as they do. It's positively indecent."
+
+Her strictures were justifiable; as long as the two below were in
+sight, and as often as they came round, they did not exchange word or
+look with each other. Schilsky frowned sulkily, and his loose-knitted
+body seemed to hang together more loosely than usual, while as for
+Louise--Maurice staring hard from his point of vantage could not have
+believed it possible for her face to change in this way. She looked
+suddenly older, and very tired; and her mobile mouth was hard.
+
+When, an hour later, after a tedious colloquy between Brunnhilde and
+Wotan, this long and disappointing evening came to an end, to the more
+human strains of the FEUERZAUBER, and they, the last of the
+gallery-audience to leave, had tramped down the wooden stairs,
+Maurice's heart leapt to his throat to discover, as they turned the
+last bend, not only the two Cayhills waiting for them, but also, a
+little distance further off, Louise. She stood there, in her white
+dress, with a thin scarf over her head.
+
+Madeleine was surprised too. "Louise! Is it you? And alone?"
+
+The girl did not respond. "I want to borrow some money from you,
+Madeleine--about five or six marks," she said, without smiling, in one
+of those colourless voices that preclude further questioning.
+
+Madeleine was not sure if she had more than a couple of marks
+in her purse, and confirmed this on looking through it under a lamp;
+but both young men put their hands in their pockets, and the required
+sum was made up. As they walked across the square, Louise explained.
+Dressed, and ready to start for the theatre, she had not been able to
+find her purse.
+
+"I looked everywhere. And yet I had it only this morning. At the last
+moment, I came down here to Markwald's. He knows me; and he let me
+have the seats on trust. I said I would go in afterwards."
+
+They waited outside the tobacconist's, while she settled her debt.
+Before she came out again, Madeleine cast her eyes over the group,
+and, having made a rapid surmise, said good-naturedly to Johanna:
+"Well, I suppose we shall walk together as far as we can. Shall you
+and I lead off?"
+
+Maurice had a sudden vision of bliss; but no sooner had Louise
+appeared again, with the shopman bowing behind her, then Ephie came
+round to his side, with a naive, matter-of-course air that admitted of
+no rebuff, and asked him to carry her opera-glass. Dove and Louise
+brought up the rear.
+
+But Dove had only one thought: to be in Maurice's place. Ephie had
+behaved so strangely in the theatre; he had certainly done something
+to offend her, and, although he had more than once gone over his
+conduct of the past week, without finding any want of correctness on
+his part, whatever it was, he must make it good without delay.
+
+"You know my friend Guest, I think," he said at last, having racked
+his brains to no better result--not for the world would he have had his
+companion suspect his anxiety to leave her. "He's a clever fellow, a
+very clever fellow. Schwarz thinks a great deal of him. I wonder what
+his impressions of the opera were. This was his first experience of
+Wagner; it would be interesting to hear what he has to say."
+
+Louise was moody and preoccupied, but Dove's words made her smile.
+
+"Let us ask him," she said.
+
+They quickened their steps and overtook the others. And when Dove,
+without further ado, had marched round to Ephie's side, Louise, left
+slightly to herself, called Maurice back to her.
+
+"Mr. Guest, we want your opinion of the WALKURE."
+
+Confused to find her suddenly beside him, Maurice was still more
+disconcerted at the marked way in which she slackened her pace
+to let the other two get in front. Believing, too, that he heard a
+note of mockery in her voice, he coloured and hesitated. Only a moment
+ago he had had several things worth saying on his tongue; now they
+would not out. He stammered a few words, and broke down in them
+half-way. She said nothing, and after one of the most embarrassing
+pauses he had ever experienced, he avowed in a burst of forlorn
+courage: "To tell the truth, I did not hear much of the music."
+
+But Louise, who had merely exchanged one chance companion for another,
+did not ask the reason, or display any interest in his confession, and
+they went on in silence. Maurice looked stealthily at her: her white
+scarf had slipped back and her wavy head was bare. She had not heard
+what he said, he told himself; her thoughts had nothing to do with
+him. But as he stole glances at her thus, unreproved, he wakened to a
+sudden consciousness of what was happening to him: here and now, after
+long weeks of waiting, he was walking at her side; he knew her, was
+alone with her, in the summer darkness, and, though a cold hand
+gripped his throat at the thought, he took the resolve not to let this
+moment pass him by, empty-handed. He must say something that would
+rouse her to the fact of his existence; something that would linger in
+her mind, and make her remember him when he was not there. But they
+were half way down the GRIMMAISCHESTRASSE; at the end, where the
+PETERSTRASSE crossed it, Dove and the Cayhills would branch off, and
+Madeleine return to them. He had no time to choose his phrases.
+
+"When I was introduced to you this afternoon, Miss Dufrayer, you did
+not know who I was," he said bluntly. "But I knew you very well--by
+sight, I mean, of course. I have seen you often--very often."
+
+He had done what he had hoped to do, had arrested her attention. She
+turned and considered him, struck by the tone in which he spoke.
+
+"The first time I saw you," continued Maurice, with the same show of
+boldness--"you, of course, will not remember it. It was one evening in
+Schwarz's room--in April--months ago. And since then, I . . . well . . .
+I----"
+
+She was gazing at him now, in surprise. She remembered at this minute,
+how once before, that day, his manner of saying some simple thing had
+affected her disagreeably. Then, she had eluded the matter with an
+indifferent word; now, she was not in a mood to do this, or in
+a mood to show leniency. She was dispirited, at war with herself, and
+she welcomed the excuse to vent her own bitterness on another.
+
+"And since then--well?"
+
+"Since then . . . "He hesitated, and gave a nervous laugh at his own
+daring. "Since then . . . well, I have thought about you more
+than--than is good for my peace of mind."
+
+For a moment amazement kept her silent; then she, too, laughed, and
+the walls of the dark houses they were passing seemed to the young man
+to re-echo the sound.
+
+"Your peace of mind!"
+
+She repeated the words after him, with such an ironical emphasis that
+his unreflected courage curled and shrivelled. He wished the ground
+had swallowed him up before he had said them. For, as they fell from
+her lips, the audacity he had been guilty of, and the absurdity that
+was latent in the words themselves, struck him in the face like
+pellets of hail.
+
+"Your peace of mind! What has your peace of mind to do with me?" she
+cried, growing extravagantly angry. "I never saw you in my life till
+to-day; I may never see you again, and it is all the same to me
+whether I do or not.--Oh, my own peace of mind, as you call it, is
+quite hard enough to take care of, without having a stranger's thrown
+at me! What do you mean by making me responsible for it! I have never
+done anything to you."
+
+All the foolish castles Maurice had built came tumbling about his
+cars. He grew pale and did not venture to look at her.
+
+"Make you responsible! Oh, how can you misunderstand me so cruelly!"
+
+His consternation was so palpable that it touched her in spite of
+herself. Her face had been as naively miserable as a child's, now it
+softened, and she spoke more kindly.
+
+"Don't mind what I say. To-night I am tired . . . have a headache . . .
+anything you like."
+
+A wave of compassion drowned his petty feelings of injury, and his
+sympathy found vent in a few inadequate words.
+
+"Help me?--you?" She laughed, in an unhappy way. "To help, one must
+understand, and you couldn't understand though you tried. All you
+others lead such quiet lives; you know nothing of what goes on in a
+life like mine. Every day I ask myself why I have not thrown myself
+out of the window, or over one of the bridges into the river,
+and put an end to it."
+
+Wrapped up though she was in herself, she could not help smiling at
+his frank gesture of dismay.
+
+"Don't be afraid," she said, and the smile lingered on her lips. "I
+shall never do it. I'm too fond of life, and too afraid of death. But
+at least," she caught herself up again, "you will see how ridiculous
+it is for you to talk to me of your peace of mind. Peace of mind! I
+have never even been passably content. Something is always wanting.
+To-night, for instance, I feel so much energy in me, and I can make
+nothing of it--nothing! If I were a man, I should walk for hours,
+bareheaded, through the woods. But to be a woman . . . to be cooped up
+inside four walls . . . when the night itself is not large enough to
+hold it all!----"
+
+She threw out her hands to emphasise her helplessness, then let them
+drop to her sides again. There was a silence, for Maurice could not
+think of anything to say; her fluency made him tongue-tied. He
+struggled with his embarrassment until they were all but within
+earshot of the rest, at the bottom of the street.
+
+"If I . . . if you would let me . . . There is nothing in the world I
+wouldn't do to help you," he ended fervently.
+
+She did not reply; they had reached the corner where the others
+waited. There was a general leave-taking. Through a kind of mist,
+Maurice saw that Ephie's face still wore a hostile look; and she
+hardly moved her lips when she bade him good-night.
+
+Madeleine drew her own conclusions as she walked the rest of the way
+home between two pale and silent people. She had seen, on coming out
+of the theatre, that Louise was in one of her bad moods--a fact easily
+to be accounted for by Schilsky's absence. Maurice had evidently been
+made to suffer under it, too, for not a syllable was to be drawn from
+him, and, after several unavailing attempts she let him alone.
+
+As they crossed the ROSSPLATZ, which lay wide and deserted in the
+starlight, Louise said abruptly: "Suppose, instead of going home, we
+walk to Connewitz?"
+
+At this proposal, and at Maurice's seconding of it, Madeleine laughed
+with healthy derision.
+
+"That is just like one of your crazy notions," she said "What a
+creature you are! For my part, I decline with thanks. I have to get a
+Moscheles ETUDE ready by to-morrow afternoon, and need all my
+wits. But don't let me hinder you. Walk to Grimma if you want to."
+
+"What do you say? Shall you and I go on?" Louise turned to Maurice;
+and the young man did not know whether she spoke in jest or in
+earnest.
+
+Madeleine knew her better. "Louise!" she said warningly. "Maurice has
+work to do to-morrow, too."
+
+"You thought I meant it," said the girl, and laughed so ungovernably
+that Madeleine was again driven to remonstrance.
+
+"For goodness' sake, be quiet! We shall have a policeman after us, if
+you laugh like that."
+
+Nothing more was said until they stood before the housedoor in the
+BRUDERSTRASSE. There Louise, who had lapsed once more into her former
+indifference, asked Madeleine to come upstairs with her.
+
+"I will look for the purse again; and then I can give you what I owe
+you. Or else I am sure to forget. Oh, it's still early; and the night
+is so long. No one can think of sleep yet."
+
+Madeleine was not a night-bird, but she was also not averse to having
+a debt paid. Louise looked from her to Maurice. "Will you come, too,
+Mr. Guest? It will only take a few minutes," she said, and, seeing his
+unhappy face, and remembering what had passed between them, she spoke
+more gently than she had yet done.
+
+Maurice felt that he ought to refuse; it was late. But Madeleine
+answered for him. "Of course. Come along, Maurice," and he crossed the
+threshold behind them.
+
+After lighting a taper, they entered a paved vestibule, and mounted a
+flight of broad and very shallow stairs; half-way up, there was a deep
+recess for pot-plants, and a wooden seat was attached to the wall. The
+house had been a fine one in its day; it was solidly built, had
+massive doors with heavy brass fittings, and thick mahogany banisters.
+On the first floor were two doors, a large and a small one, side by
+side. Louise unlocked the larger, and they stepped into a commodious
+lobby, off which several rooms opened. She led the way to the furthest
+of these, and entered in front of her companions.
+
+Maurice, hesitating just inside the door, found himself close to a
+grand piano, which stood free on all sides, was open, and disorderly
+with music. It was a large room, with three windows; and one
+end of it was shut off by a high screen, which stretched almost from
+wall to wall. A deep sofa stood in an oriel-window; a writing-table
+was covered with bric-a-brac, and three tall flower-vases were filled
+with purple lilac. But there was a general air of untidiness about the
+room; for strewn over the chairs and tables were numerous small
+articles of dress and the toilet-hairpins, a veil, a hat and a
+skirt--all traces of her intimate presence.
+
+As she lifted the lamp from the writing-table to place it on the
+square table before the sofa, Madeleine called her attention to a
+folded paper that had lain beneath it.
+
+"It seems to be a letter for you."
+
+She caught at it with a kind of avidity, tore it open, and heedless of
+their presence, devoured it, not only with her eyes: but with her
+parted lips and eager hands. When she looked up again, her cheeks had
+a tinge of colour in them; her eyes shone like faceted jewels; her
+smile was radiant and infectious. With no regard for appearances, she
+buttoned the note in the bosom of her dress.
+
+"Now we will look for the purse," she said. "But come in, Mr.
+Guest--you are still standing at the door. I shall think you are
+offended with me. Oh, how hot the room is!--and the lilac is stifling.
+First the windows open! And then this scarf off, and some more light.
+You will help me to look, will you not?"
+
+It was to Maurice she spoke, with a childlike upturning of her face to
+his--an irresistibly confiding gesture. She disappeared behind the
+screen, and came out bareheaded, nestling with both hands at the coil
+of hair on her neck. Then she lit two candles that stood on the piano
+in brass candlesticks, and Maurice lighted her round the room, while
+she searched in likely and unlikely places--inside the piano, in empty
+vases, in the folds of the curtains--laughing at herself as she did so,
+until Madeleine said that this was only nonsense, and came after them
+herself. When Maurice held the candle above the writing-table, he
+lighted three large photographs of Schilsky, one more dandified than
+the other; and he was obliged to raise his other hand to steady the
+candlestick.
+
+At last, following a hint from Madeleine, they discovered the purse
+between the back of the sofa and the seat; and now Louise remembered
+that it had been in the pocket of her dressing-gown that afternoon.
+
+"How stupid of me! I might have known," she said contritely.
+"So many things have gone down there in their day. Once a silver
+hair-brush that I was fond of; and I sometimes look there when bangles
+or hat-pins are missing," and letting her eyes dance at Maurice, she
+threw back her head and laughed.
+
+Here, however, another difficulty arose; except for a few nickel
+coins, the purse was found to contain only gold, and the required
+change could not be made up.
+
+"Never mind; take one of the twenty-mark pieces," she urged. "Yes,
+Madeleine, I would rather you did;" and when Madeleine hinted that
+Maurice might not find it too troublesome to come back with the change
+the following day, she turned to the young man, and saying: "Yes, if
+Mr. Guest would be so kind," smiled at him with such a gracious warmth
+that it was all he could do to reply with a decent unconcern.
+
+But the hands of the clock on the writing-table were nearing half-past
+eleven, and now it was she who referred to the lateness of the hour.
+
+"Thank you very much," she said to Maurice on parting. "And you must
+forget the nonsense I talked this evening. I didn't mean it--not a word
+of it." She laughed and held out her hand. "I wouldn't shake hands
+with you this afternoon, but now--if you will? For to-night I am not
+superstitious. Nothing bad will happen; I'm sure of that. And I am
+very much obliged to you--for everything. Good night."
+
+Only a few minutes back, he had been steeped in pity for her; now it
+seemed as if no one had less need of pity or sympathy than she. He was
+bewildered, and went home to pass alternately from a mood of rapture
+to one of jealous despair. And the latter was torturous, for, as they
+walked, Madeleine had let fall such a vile suspicion that he had
+parted from her in anger, calling as he went that if he believed what
+she said to be true, he would never put faith in a human being again.
+
+In the light of the morning, of course, he knew that it was
+incredible, a mere phantasm born of the dark; and towards four o'clock
+that afternoon, he called at the BRUDERSTRASSE with the change. But
+Louise was not at home, and as he did not find her in on three
+successive days, he did not venture to return. He wrote his name on a
+card, and left this, together with the money, in an envelope.
+
+
+
+
+X.
+
+
+
+After parting from the rest, Dove and the two Cayhills continued their
+way in silence: they were in the shadow thrown by the steep vaulting
+of the THOMASKIRCHE, before a word was exchanged between them. Johanna
+had several times glanced inquiringly at her sister, but Ephie had
+turned away her head, so that only the outline of her cheek was
+visible, and as Dove had done exactly the same, Johanna could only
+conclude that the two had fallen out. It was something novel for her
+to be obliged to talk when Ephie was present, but it was impossible
+for them to walk the whole way home as mum as this, especially as Dove
+had already heaved more than one deep sigh.
+
+So, as they turned into the PROMENADE, Johanna said with a jerk, and
+with an aggressiveness that she could not subdue: "Well, that is the
+first and the last time anyone shall persuade me to go to a so-called
+opera by Wagner."
+
+"Is not that just a little rash?" asked Dove. He smiled, unruffled,
+with a suggestion of patronage; but there was also a preoccupation in
+his manner, which showed that he was thinking of other things.
+
+"You call that music," said Johanna, although he had done nothing of
+the kind. "I call it noise. I am not musical myself, thank goodness,
+but at least I know a tune when I hear one."
+
+"If my opinion had been asked, I should certainly have suggested
+something lighter--LOHENGRIN OR TANNHAUSER, for instance," said Dove.
+
+"You would have done us a favour if you had," replied Johanna; and she
+meant what she said, in more ways than one. She had been at a loss to
+account for Ephie's sudden longing to hear DIE WALKURE, and had gone
+to the theatre against her will, simply because she never thwarted
+Ephie if she could avoid it. Now, after she had heard the opera, she
+felt aggrieved with Dove as well; as far as she had been able to
+gather from his vague explanations, from the bawling of the singers,
+and from subsequent events, the first act treated of relations so
+infamous that, by common consent, they are considered non-existent;
+and Johanna was of the opinion that, instead of being so ready
+to take tickets for them, Dove might have let drop a hint of the
+nature of the piece Ephie wished to see.
+
+After this last remark of Johanna's there was another lengthy pause.
+Then Dove, looking fondly at what he could see of Ephie's cheek, said:
+"I am afraid Miss Ephie has not enjoyed it either; she is so quiet--so
+unlike herself."
+
+Ephie, who had been staring into the darkness, bit her lip: he was at
+it again. After the unfriendly way in which Maurice Guest had deserted
+her, and forced her into Dove's company, Dove had worried her right
+down the GRIMMAISCHESTRASSE, to know what the matter was, and how he
+had offended her. She felt exasperated with every one, and if he began
+his worryings again, would have to vent her irritation somehow.
+
+"Ephie has only herself to blame if she didn't enjoy it; she was bent
+on going," said Johanna, in the mildly didactic manner she invariably
+used towards her sister. "But I think she is only tired--or a little
+cross."
+
+"Oh, that is not likely," Dove hastened to interpose.
+
+"I am not cross, Joan," said Ephie angrily. "And if it was my fault you
+had to come--I've enjoyed myself very much, and I shall go again, as
+often as I like. But I won't be teased--I won't indeed!"
+
+This was the sharpest answer Johanna had ever received from Ephie. She
+looked at her in dismay, but made no response, for of nothing was
+Johanna more afraid than of losing the goodwill Ephie bore her.
+Mentally she put her sister's pettishness down to the noise and heat
+of the theatre, and it was an additional reason for bearing Wagner and
+his music a grudge. Dove also made no further effort to converse
+connectedly, but his silence was of a conciliatory kind, and, as they
+advanced along the PROMENADE, he could not deny himself the pleasure
+of drawing the pretty, perverse child's attention to the crossings,
+the ruts in the road, the best bits of pavement, with a: "Walk you
+here, Miss Ephie," "Take care," "Allow me," himself meanwhile dancing
+from one side of the footpath to the other, until the young girl was
+almost distracted.
+
+"I can see for myself, thank you. I have eyes in my head as well as
+anyone else," she exclaimed at length; and to Johanna's amazed:
+"Ephie!" she retorted: "Yes, Joan, you think no one has a right to be
+rude but yourself."
+
+Johanna was more hurt by these words than she would have confessed.
+She had hitherto believed that Ephie--affectionate, lazy
+little Ephie--accepted her individual peculiarities as an integral part
+of her nature: it had not occurred to her that Ephie might be standing
+aloof and considering her objectively--let alone mentally using such an
+unkind word as rudeness of her. But Ephie's fit of ill-temper, for
+such it undoubtedly was, made Johanna see things differently; it
+hinted at unsuspected, cold scrutinies in the past, and implied a
+somewhat laming care of one's words in the days to come, which would
+render it difficult ever again to be one's perfectly natural self.
+
+Had Johanna not been so occupied with her own feelings, she would have
+heard the near tears in Ephie's voice; it was with the utmost
+difficulty that the girl kept them back, and at the house-door, she
+had vanished up the stairs long before Dove had finished saying
+good-night. In the corridor, she hesitated whether or no, according to
+custom, she should go to her mother's room. Then she put a brave face
+on it, and opened the door.
+
+"Here we are, mummy. Good night. I hope the evening wasn't too long."
+
+Long?--on the contrary the hours had flown. Mrs. Cayhill, left to
+herself, had all the comfortable sensations of a tippler in the
+company of his bottle. She could forge ahead, undeterred by any sense
+of duty; she had not to interrupt herself to laugh at Ephie's wit, nor
+was she troubled by Johanna's cold eye--that eye which told more plainly
+than words, how her elder daughter regarded her self-indulgence.
+Propped up in bed on two pillows, she now laid down her book, and put
+out her hand to draw Ephie to her.
+
+"Did you enjoy it, darling? Were you amused? But you will tell me all
+about it in the morning."
+
+"Yes, mother, in the morning. I am a little tired--but it was very
+sweet," said Ephie bravely. "Good night."
+
+Mrs. Cayhill kissed her, and nodded in perfect contentment at the
+pretty little figure before her. Ephie was free to go. And at last she
+was in her own room--at last!
+
+She hastily locked both doors, one leading to the passage and one to
+her sister's room. A moment later, Johanna was at the latter, trying
+to open it.
+
+"Ephie! What is the matter? Why have you locked the door? Open it at
+once, I insist upon it," she cried anxiously, and as loudly as she
+dared, for fear of disturbing the other inmates of the house.
+
+But Ephie begged hard not to be bothered; she had a bad headache,
+and only wanted to be quiet.
+
+"Let me give you a powder," urged her sister. "You are so excited--I am
+sure you are not well;" and when this, too, was refused: "You had
+nothing but some tea, child--you must be hungry. And they have left our
+supper on the table."
+
+No, she was not hungry, didn't want any supper, and was very sleepy.
+
+"Well, at least unlock your door," begged Johanna, with visions of the
+dark practices which Ephie, the soul of candour, might be contemplating
+on the other side. "I will not come in, I promise you," she added.
+
+"Oh, all right," said Ephie crossly. But as soon as she heard that
+Johanna had gone, she returned to the middle of the room without
+touching the door; and after standing undecided for a moment, as if
+not quite sure what was coming next, she sat down on a chair at the
+foot of the bed, and suddenly began to cry. The tears had been in
+waiting for so long that they flowed without effort, abundantly,
+rolling one over another down her cheeks; but she was careful not to
+make a sound; for, even when sobbing bitterly, she did not forget that
+at any moment Johanna might enter the adjoining room and overhear her.
+And then, what a fuss there would be! For Ephie was one of those
+fortunate people who always get what they want, and but rarely have
+occasion to cry. All her desires had moved low, near earth, and been
+easily fulfilled. Did she break her prettiest doll, a still prettier
+was forthcoming; did anything happen to cross wish or scheme of hers,
+half a dozen brains were at work to think out a compensation.
+
+But now she wept in earnest, behind closed doors, for she had received
+an injury which no one could make good. And the more she thought of
+it, the more copiously her tears flowed. The evening had been one long
+tragedy of disappointment: her fevered anticipation beforehand, her
+early throbs of excitement in the theatre, her growing consternation
+as the evening advanced, her mortification at being slighted--a
+sensation which she experienced for the first time. Again and again
+she asked herself what she had done to be treated in this way. What
+had happened to change him?
+
+She was sitting upright on her chair, letting the tears stream
+unchecked; her two hands lay upturned on her knee; in one of them was
+a diminutive lace handkerchief, rolled to a ball, with which now and
+then she dabbed away the hottest tears. The windows of the
+room were still open, the blinds undrawn, and the street-lamps threw a
+flickering mesh of light on the wall. In the glass that hung over the
+washstand, she saw her dim reflection: following an impulse, she dried
+her eyes, and, with trembling fingers, lighted two candles, one on
+each side of the mirror. By this uncertain light, she leant forward
+with both hands on the stand, and peered at herself with a new
+curiosity.
+
+She was still just as she had come out of the theatre: a many-coloured
+silk scarf was twisted round her head, and the brilliant, dangling
+fringes, and the stray tendrils of hair that escaped, made a frame for
+the rounded oval of her face. And then her skin was so fine, her eyes
+were so bright, the straight lashes so black and so long!--she put her
+head back, looked at herself through half-closed lids, turned her face
+this way and that, even smiling, wet though her cheeks were, in order
+that she might see the even line of teeth, with their slightly notched
+edges. The smile was still on her lips when the tears welled up again,
+ran over, trickled down and dropped with a splash, she watching them,
+until a big, unexpected sob rose in her throat, and almost choked her.
+Yes, she was pretty--oh, very, very pretty! But it made what had
+happened all the harder to understand. How had he had the heart to
+treat her so cruelly?
+
+She knelt down by the open window, and laid her head on the sill. The
+moon, a mere sharp line of silver, hung fine and slender, like a
+polished scimitar, above the dark mass of houses opposite. Turning her
+hot face up to it, she saw that it was new, and instantly felt a throb
+of relief that she had not caught her first glimpse of it through
+glass. She bowed her head to it, quickly, nine times running, and sent
+up a prayer to the deity of fortune that had its home there. Good
+luck!--the fulfilment of one's wish! She wished in haste, with
+tight-closed eyes--and who knew but what, the very next day, her wish
+might come true! Tired with crying, above all, tired of the grief
+itself, she began more and more to let her thoughts stray to the
+morrow. And having once yielded to the allurements of hope, she even
+endeavoured to make the best of the past evening, telling herself that
+she had not been alone for a single instant; he had really had no
+chance of speaking to her. In the next breath, of course, she reminded
+herself that he might easily have made a chance, had he wished; and a
+healthier feeling of resentment stole over her. Rising from her
+cramped position, she shut the window. She resolved to show him that
+she was not a person who could be treated in this off-hand
+fashion; he should see that she was not to be trifled with.
+
+But she played with her unhappiness a little longer, and even had an
+idea of throwing herself on the bed without undressing. She was very
+sleepy, though, and the desire to be between the cool, soft sheets was
+too strong to be withstood. She slipped out of her clothes, leaving
+them just where they fell on the floor, like round pools; and before
+she had finished plaiting her hair, she was stifling a hearty yawn.
+But in bed, when the light was out, she lay and stared before her.
+
+"I am very, very unhappy. I shall not sleep a wink," she said to
+herself, and sighed at the prospect of the night-watch.
+
+But before five minutes had passed her closed hand relaxed, and lay
+open and innocent on the coverlet; her breath came regularly--she was
+fast asleep. The moon was visible for a time in the setting of the
+unshuttered window; and when she wakened next day, toward nine
+o'clock, the full morning sun was playing on the bed.
+
+For several months prior to this, Ephie had worshipped Schilsky at a
+distance. The very first time she saw him play, he had made a profound
+impression on her: he looked so earnest and melancholy, so supremely
+indifferent to every one about him, as he stood with his head bent to
+his violin. Then, too, he had beautiful hands; and she did not know
+which she admired more, his auburn hair with the big hat set so
+jauntily on it, or the thrillingly impertinent way he had of staring
+at you--through half-closed eyes, with his head well back--in a manner
+at once daring and irresistible.
+
+Having come through a period of low spirits, caused by an acute
+consciousness of her own littleness and inferiority, Ephie so far
+recovered her self-confidence that she was able to look at her
+divinity when she met him; and soon after this, she made the
+intoxicating discovery that not only did he return her look, but that
+he also took notice of her, and deliberately singled her out with his
+gaze. And the belief was pardonable on Ephie's part, for Schilsky made
+it a point of honour to stare any pretty girl into confusion; besides
+which, he had a habit of falling into sheep-like reveries, in which he
+saw no more of what or whom he looked at, than do the glassy eyes of
+the blind. More than once, Ephie had blushed and writhed in blissful
+torture under these stonily staring eyes.
+
+From this to persuading herself that her feelings were returned
+was only a step. Events and details, lighter than puff-balls,
+were to her links of iron, which formed a wonderful chain of evidence.
+She went about nursing the idea that Schilsky desired an introduction
+as much as she did; that he was suffering from a romantic and
+melancholy attachment, which forbade him attempting to approach her.
+
+At this date, she became an adept at inventing excuses to go to the
+Conservatorium when she thought he was likely to be there; and,
+suddenly grown rebellious, she shook off Johanna's protectorship,
+which until now had weighed lightly on her. She grew fastidious about
+her dress, studied before the glass which colours suited her best, and
+the effect of a particular bow or ribbon; while on the days she had
+her violin-lessons, she developed a coquetry which made nothing seem
+good enough to wear, and was the despair of Johanna. When Schilsky
+played at an ABENDUNTERHALTUNG, she sat in the front row of seats, and
+made her hands ache with applauding. Afterwards she lay wakeful, with
+hot cheeks, and dreamt extravagant dreams of sending him great baskets
+and bouquets of flowers, with coloured streamers to them, such as the
+singers in the opera received on a gala night. And though no name was
+given, he would know from whom they came. But on the only occasion she
+tried to carry out the scheme, and ventured inside a florist's shop,
+her scant command of German, and the excessive circumstantiality of
+the matter, made her feel so uncomfortable that she had fled
+precipitately, leaving the shopman staring after her in surprise.
+
+Things were at this pass when, one day late in May, Ephie went as
+usual to take her lesson. It was two o'clock on a cloudless afternoon,
+and so warm that the budding lilac in squares and gardens began to
+give out fragrance. In the whitewashed, many-windowed corridors of the
+Conservatorium, the light was harsh and shadowless; it jarred on one,
+wounded the nerves. So at least thought Schilsky, who was hanging
+about the top storey of the building, in extreme ill-humour. He had
+been forced to make an appointment with a man to whom he owed money;
+the latter had not yet appeared, and Schilsky lounged and swore, with
+his two hands deep in his pockets, and his sulkiest expression. But
+gradually, he found himself listening to the discordant tones of a
+violin--at first unconsciously, as we listen when our thoughts are
+elsewhere engaged, then more and more intently. In one of the junior
+masters' rooms, some one had begun to play scales in the third
+position, uncertainly, with shrill feebleness, seeking out
+each note, only to produce it falsely. As this scraping worked on him,
+Schilsky could not refrain from rubbing his teeth together, and
+screwing up his face as though he had toothache; now that the
+miserable little tones had successfully penetrated his ear, they hit
+him like so many blows.
+
+"Damn him for a fool!" he said savagely to himself, and found an
+outlet for his irritation in repeating these words aloud. Then,
+however, as an ETUDE was commenced, with an impotence that struck him
+as purely vicious, he could endure the torment no longer. He had seen
+in the BUREAU the particular master, and knew that the latter had not
+yet come upstairs. Going to the room from which the sounds issued, he
+stealthily opened the door.
+
+A girl was standing with her back to him, and was so engrossed in
+playing that she did not hear him enter. On seeing this, he proposed
+to himself the schoolboy pleasure of creeping up behind her and giving
+her a well-deserved fright. He did so, with such effect that, had he
+not caught it, her violin would have fallen to the floor.
+
+He took both her wrists in his, held them firm, and, from his superior
+height--he was head and shoulders taller than Ephie --looked down on
+the miscreant. He recognised her now as a pretty little American whom
+he had noticed from time to time about the building; but--but . . .
+well, that she was as astoundingly pretty as this, he had had no
+notion. His eyes strayed over her face, picking out all its beauties,
+and he felt himself growing as soft as butter. Besides, she had
+crimsoned down to her bare, dimpled neck; her head drooped; her long
+lashes covered her eyes, and a tremulous smile touched the corners of
+her mouth, which seemed uncertain whether to laugh or to cry--the
+short, upper-lip trembled. He felt from her wrists, and saw from the
+uneasy movement of her breast, how wildly her heart was beating--it was
+as if one held a bird in one's hand. His ferocity died away; none of
+the hard words he had had ready crossed his lips; all he said, and in
+his gentlest voice, was: "Have I frightened you?" He was desperately
+curious to know the colour of her eyes, and, as she neither answered
+him nor looked up, but only grew more and more confused, he let one of
+her hands fall, and taking her by the chin, turned her face up to his.
+She was forced to look at him for a moment. Upon which, he stooped and
+kissed her on the mouth, three times, with a pause between each kiss.
+Then, at a noise in the corridor, he swung hastily from the
+room, and was just in time to avoid the master, against whom he
+brushed up in going out of the door.
+
+Herr Becker looked suspiciously at his favourite pupil's tell-tale face
+and air of extreme confusion; and, throughout the lesson, his manner
+to her was so cold and short that Ephie played worse than ever before.
+After sticking fast in the middle of a passage, she stopped
+altogether, and begged to be allowed to go home. When she had gone,
+and some one else was playing, Herr Becker stood at the window and
+shook his head: round this innocent baby face he had woven several
+pretty fancies.
+
+Meanwhile Ephie flew rather than walked home, and having reached her
+room unseen, flung herself on the bed, and buried her burning cheeks
+in the white coolness of the pillows. Johanna, finding her thus, a
+short time after, was alarmed, put questions of various kinds, felt
+sure the sun had been too hot for her, and finally stood over the bed,
+holding her unfailing remedy, a soothing powder for the nerves.
+
+"Oh, do for goodness' sake, leave me alone, Joan," said Ephie. "I
+don't want your powders. I am all right. Just let me be."
+
+She drank the mixture, however, and catching sight of Johanna's
+anxious face, and aware that she had been cross, she threw her arms
+round her sister, hugged her, and called her a "dear old darling
+Joan." But there was something in the stormy tenderness of the
+embrace, in the flushed cheeks and glittering eyes that made Johanna
+even more uneasy. She insisted upon Ephie lying still and trying to
+sleep; and, after taking off her shoes for her, and noiselessly
+drawing down the blinds, she went on tiptoe out of the room.
+
+Ephie burrowed more deeply in her pillow, and putting both hands to
+her cars, to shut out the world, went over the details of what had
+happened. It was like a fairy-story. She walked lazily down the sunny
+corridor, entered the class-room, and took off her hat, which Herr
+Becker hung up for her, after having playfully examined it. She had
+just taken her violin from its case, when he remembered something he
+had to do in the BUREAU, and went out of the room, bidding her
+practise her scales during his absence; she heard again and smiled at
+the funny accent with which he said: "Just a moment." She saw the bare
+walls of the room, the dust that lay white on the lid on the piano,
+was conscious of the difficulties of C sharp minor. She even knew
+the very note at which HE had been beside her--without a word
+of warning, as suddenly as though he had sprung from the earth. She
+heard the cry she had given, and felt his hands--the hands she had so
+often admired--clasp her wrists. He was so close to her that she felt
+his breath, and knew the exact shape of the diamond ring he wore on
+his little finger. She felt, too, rather than saw the audacious
+admiration of his eyes; and his voice was not the less caressing
+because a little thick. And then--then--she burrowed more firmly, held
+her ears more tightly to, laughed a happy, gurgling laugh that almost
+choked her: never, as long as she lived, would she forget the feel of
+his moustache as it scratched her lips!
+
+When she rose and looked at herself in the glass, it seemed
+extraordinary that there should be no outward difference in her; and
+for several days she did not lose this sensation of being mysteriously
+changed. She was quieter than usual, and her movements were a little
+languid, but a kind of subdued radiance peeped through and shone in
+her eyes. She waited confidently for something to happen: she did not
+herself know what it would be, but, after the miracle that had
+occurred, it was beyond belief that things could jog on in their old
+familiar course; and so she waited and expected--at every letter the
+postman brought, each time the door-bell rang, whenever she went into
+the street.
+
+But after a week had dragged itself to an end, and she had not even
+seen Schilsky again, she grew restless and unsure; and sometimes at
+night, when Johanna thought she was asleep, she would stand at her
+window, and, with a very different face from that which she wore by
+day, put countless questions to herself, all of which began with why
+and how. And Johanna was again beset by the fear that Ephie was
+sickening for an illness, for the child would pass from bursts of
+rather forced gaiety to fits of real fretfulness, or sink into brown
+studies, from which she wakened with a start. But if, on some such
+occasion, Johanna said to her: "Where ARE your thoughts, Ephie?" she
+would only laugh, and answer, with a hug: "Wool-gathering, you dear
+old bumble-bee!"
+
+From the lesson following the eventful one, Ephie played truant, on
+the ground of headache, partly because her fancy pictured him lying in
+wait like an ogre to eat her up, and partly from a poor little foolish
+fear lest he should think her too easily won. Now, however, she blamed
+herself for not having given him an opportunity to speak to her, and
+began to frequent the Conservatorium assiduously. When, after
+ten long days, she saw him again, an unfailing instinct guided her
+aright.
+
+It was in the vestibule, as she was leaving the building, and they met
+face to face. Directly she espied him, though her heart thumped
+alarmingly, Ephie tossed her head, gazed fixedly at some distant
+object, and was altogether as haughty as her parted lips would allow
+of. And she played her part so well that Schilsky's attention was
+arrested; he remembered who she was, and stared hard at her as she
+passed. Not only this, but pleased, he could not have told why, he
+turned and followed her out, and standing on the steps, looked after
+her. She went down the street with her head in the air, holding her
+dress very high to display a lace-befrilled petticoat, and clattering
+gracefully on two high-heeled, pointed shoes. He screwed up his eyes
+against the sun, in order to see her better--he was short-sighted, too,
+but vanity forbade him to wear glasses--and when, at the corner of the
+street, Ephie rather spoilt the effect of her behaviour by throwing a
+hasty glance back, he laughed and clicked his tongue against the roof
+of his mouth.
+
+"VERDAMMT!" he said with expression.
+
+And both on that day and the next, when he admired a well-turned ankle
+or a pretty petticoat, he was reminded of the provoking little
+American, with the tossed head and baby mouth.
+
+A few days later, in the street that ran alongside the Gewandhaus, he
+saw her again.
+
+Ephie, who, in the interval, had upbraided herself incessantly, was
+none the less, now the moment had come, about to pass as before--even
+more frigidly. But this time Schilsky raised his hat, with a tentative
+smile, and, in order not to appear childish, she bowed ever so
+slightly. When he was safely past, she could not resist giving a
+furtive look behind her, and at precisely the same moment, he turned,
+too. In spite of her trouble, Ephic found the coincidence droll; she
+tittered, and he saw it, although she immediately laid the back of her
+hand on her lips. It was not in him to let this pass unnoticed. With a
+few quick steps, he was at her side.
+
+He took off his hat again, and looked at her not quite sure how to
+begin.
+
+"I am happy to see you have not forgotten me," he said in excellent
+English.
+
+Ephie had impulsively stopped on hearing him come up with her, and
+now, colouring deeply, tried to dig a hole in the pavement with the
+toe of her shoe. She, too, could not think what to say; and
+this, together with the effect produced on her by his peculiar lisp,
+made her feel very uncomfortable. She was painfully conscious of his
+insistent eyes on her face, as he waited for her to speak; but there
+was a distressing pause before he added: "And sorry to see you are
+still angry with me."
+
+At this, she found her tongue. Looking, not at him, but at a passer-by
+on the opposite side of the street, she said: "Why, I guess I have a
+right to be."
+
+She tried to speak severely, but her voice quavered, and once more the
+young man was not sure whether the trembling of her lip signified
+tears or laughter.
+
+"Are you always so cruel?" he asked, with an intentness that made her
+eyes seek the ground again. "Such a little crime! Is there no hope for
+me?"
+
+She attempted to be dignified. "Little! I am really not accustomed----"
+
+"Then I'm not to be forgiven?"
+
+His tone was so humble that suddenly she had to laugh. Shooting a
+quick glance at him, she said:
+
+"That depends on how you behave in future. If you promise never to----"
+
+Before the words were well out of her mouth, she was aware of her
+stupidity; her laugh ended, and she grew redder than before. Schilsky
+had laughed, too, quite frankly, and he continued to smile at the
+confusion she had fallen into. It seemed a long time before he said
+with emphasis: "That is the last thing in the world you should ask of me."
+
+Ephie drooped her head, and dug with her shoe again; she had never
+been so tongue-tied as to-day, just when she felt she ought to say
+something very cold and decisive. But not an idea presented itself,
+and meanwhile he went on: "The punishment would be too hard. The
+temptation was so great."
+
+As she was still obstinately silent, he stooped and peeped under the
+overhanging brim of her hat. "Such pretty lips!" he said, and then, as
+on the former occasion, he took her by the chin and turned her face up
+to his.
+
+But she drew back angrily. "Mr. Schilskyl . . . how dare you! Take
+your hand away at once."
+
+"There!--I have sinned again," he said, and folded his hands in mock
+supplication. "Now I am afraid you will never forgive me.--But listen,
+you have the advantage of me; you know my name. Will you not tell me
+yours?"
+
+Having retreated a full yard from him, Ephie regained some of
+her native self-composure. For the first time, she found herself able
+to look straight at him. "No," she said, with a touch of her usual
+lightness. "I shall leave you to find it out for yourself; it will
+give you something to do."
+
+They both laughed. "At least give me your hand," he said; and when he
+held it in his, he would not let her go, until, after much seeming
+reluctance on her part, she had detailed to him the days and hours of
+her lessons at the Conservatorium, and where he would be likely to
+meet her. As before, he stood and watched her go down the street,
+hoping that she would turn at the corner. But, on this day, Ephie
+whisked along in a great hurry.
+
+On after occasions, he waylaid her as she came and went, and either
+stood talking to her, or walked the length of the street beside her.
+At the early hour of the afternoon when Ephie had her lessons, he did
+not need to fear being seen by acquaintances; the sunshine was
+undisturbed in the quiet street. The second time they met, he told her
+that he had found out what her name was; and his efforts to pronounce
+it afforded Ephie much amusement. Their conversation was always of the
+same nature, half banter, half earnest. Ephie, who had rapidly
+recovered her assurance, invariably began in her archest manner, and
+it became his special pleasure to reduce her, little by little, to a
+crimson silence.
+
+But one day, about a fortnight later, she came upon him at a different
+hour, when he was not expecting to see her. He was strolling up and
+down in front of the Conservatorium, waiting for Louise, who might
+appear at any moment. Ephie had been restless all the morning, and had
+finally made an excuse to go out: her steps naturally carried her to
+the Conservatorium, where she proposed to study the notice-board, on
+the chance of seeing Schilsky. When she caught sight of him, her eyes
+brightened; she greeted him with an inviting smile, and a saucy
+remark. But Schilsky did not take up her tone; he cut her words short.
+
+"What are you doing here to-day?" he asked with a frown of displeasure,
+meanwhile keeping a watchful eye on the inner staircase--visible through
+the glass doors--down which Louise would come. "I haven't a moment to
+spare."
+
+Mortally offended by his manner, Ephie drew back her extended hand,
+and giving him a look of surprise and resentment, was about to pass
+him by without a further word. But this was more than Schilsky
+could bear; he put out his hand to stop her, always, though, with one
+eye on the door.
+
+"Now, don't be cross, little girl," he begged impatiently. "It's not my
+fault--upon my word it isn't. I wasn't expecting to see you to-day--you
+know that. Look here, tell me--this sort of thing is so unsatisfactory--is
+there no other place I could see you? What do you do with yourself all
+day? Come, answer me, don't be angry."
+
+Ephie melted. "Come and visit us on Sunday afternoon," she said. "We
+are always at home then."
+
+He laughed rudely, and took no notice of her words. "Come, think of
+something--quick!" he said.
+
+He was on tenterhooks to be gone, and showed it. Ephie grew
+flustered, and though she racked her brains, could make no further
+suggestion.
+
+"Oh well, if you can't, you know," he said crossly, and loosened his
+hold of her arm.
+
+Then, at the last moment, she had a flash of inspiration; she
+remembered how, on the previous Sunday, Dove had talked enthusiastically
+of an opera-performance, which, if she were not mistaken, was to take
+place the following night. Dove had declared that all musical Leipzig
+would probably be present in the theatre. Surely she might risk mentioning
+this, without fear of another snub.
+
+"I am going to the opera to-morrow night," she said in a small, meek
+voice, and was on the verge of tears. Schilsky hardly heard her;
+Louise had appeared at the head of the stairs. "The very thing," he
+said. "I shall look out for you there, little girl. Good-bye. AUF
+WIEDERSEHEN!"
+
+He went down the steps, without even raising his hat, and when Louise
+came out, he was sauntering towards the building again, as if he had
+come from the other end of the street.
+
+Ephie went home in a state of anger and humiliation which was new to
+her. For the first few hours, she was resolved never to speak to
+Schilsky again. When this mood passed, she made up her mind that he
+should atone for his behaviour to the last iota: he should grovel
+before her; she would scarcely deign to look at him. But the nearer
+the time came for their meeting, the more were her resentful feelings
+swallowed up by the wish to see him. She counted off the hours till
+the opera commenced; she concocted a scheme to escape Johanna's
+surveillance; she had a story ready, if it should be necessary, of how
+she had once been introduced to Schilsky. Her fingers trembled
+with impatience as she fastened on a pretty new dress, which had just
+been sent home: a light, flowered stuff, with narrow bands of black
+velvet artfully applied so as to throw the fairness of her hair and
+skin into relief.
+
+The consciousness of looking her best gave her manner a light sureness
+that was very charming. But from the moment they entered the FOYER,
+Ephie's heart began to sink: the crowd was great; she could not see
+Schilsky; and in his place came Dove, who was not to be shaken off.
+Even Maurice was bad enough--what concern of his was it how she enjoyed
+herself? When, finally, she did discover the person she sought, he
+was with some one else, and did not see her; and when she had
+succeeded in making him look, he frowned, shook his head, and made
+angry signs that she was not to speak to him, afterwards going
+downstairs with the sallow girl in white. What did it mean? All
+through the tedious second act, Ephie wound her handkerchief round and
+round, and in and out of her fingers. Would it never end? How long
+would the fat, ugly Brunnhilde stand talking to Siegmund and the woman
+who lay so ungracefully between his knees? As if it mattered a straw
+what these sham people did or felt! Would he speak to her in the next
+interval, or would he not?
+
+The side curtains had hardly swept down before she was up from her
+seat, hurrying Johanna away. This time she chose to stand against the
+wall, at the end of the FOYER. After a short time, he came in sight,
+but he had no more attention to spare for her than before; he did not
+even look in her direction. Her one consolation was that obviously he
+was not enjoying himself; he wore a surly face, was not speaking, and,
+to a remark the girl in white made, he answered by an angry flap of
+the hand. When they had twice gone past in this way, and she had each
+time vainly put herself forward, Ephie began to take an interest in
+what Dove was saying, to smile at him and coquet with him, and the
+more openly, the nearer Schilsky drew. Other people grew attentive,
+and Dove went into a seventh heaven, which made it hard for him
+placidly to accept the fit of pettish silence, she subsequently fell
+into.
+
+The crowning touch was put to this disastrous evening by the fact that
+Schilsky's companion of the FOYER walked the greater part of the way
+home with them; and, what was worse, that she took not the slightest
+notice of Ephie.
+
+
+
+
+XI.
+
+
+
+Before leaving her bedroom the following morning, Ephie wrote on her
+scented pink paper a short letter, which began: "Dear Mr. Schilsky,"
+and ended with: "Your sincere friend, Euphemia Stokes Cayhill." In
+this letter, she "failed to understand" his conduct of the previous
+evening, and asked him for an explanation. Not until she had closed
+the envelope, did she remember that she was ignorant of his address.
+She bit the end of her pen, thinking hard, and directly breakfast was
+over, put on her hat and slipped out of the house.
+
+It was the first time Ephie had had occasion to enter the BUREAU of
+the Conservatorium; and, when the heavy door had swung to behind her,
+and she was alone in the presence of the secretaries, each of whom was
+bent over a high desk, writing in a ledger, her courage almost failed
+her. The senior, an old, white-haired man, with a benevolent face, did
+not look up; but after she had stood hesitating for some minutes, an
+under-secretary solemnly laid down his pen, and coming to the counter,
+wished in English to know what he could do for her. Growing very red,
+Ephie asked him if he "would . . . could . . . would please tell her
+where Mr. Schilsky lived."
+
+Herr Kleefeld leaned both hands on the counter, and disconcerted her
+by staring at her over his spectacles.
+
+"Mr. Schilsky? Is it very important?" he said with a leer, as if he
+were making a joke.
+
+"Why, yes, indeed," replied Ephie timidly.
+
+He nodded his head, more to himself than to her, went back to his
+desk, opened another ledger, and ran his finger down a page, repeating
+aloud as he did so, to her extreme embarrassment: "Mr. Schilsky--let me
+see. Mr. Schilsky--let me see."
+
+After a pause, he handed her a slip of paper, on which he had
+painstakingly copied the address: "TALSTRASSE, 12 III."
+
+"Why, I thank you very much. I have to ask him about some music. Is
+there anything to pay?" stammered Ephie.
+
+But Herr Kleefeld, leaning as before on the counter, shook his head
+from side to side, with a waggish air, which confused Ephie still
+more. She made her escape, and left him there, still wagging, like a
+china Mandarin.
+
+Having addressed the letter in the nearest post office, she
+entered a confectioner's and bought a pound of chocolate creams; so
+that when Johanna met her in the passage, anxious and angry at her
+leaving the house without a word, she was able to assert that her
+candy-box had been empty, and she felt she could not begin to practise
+till it was refilled. But Johanna was very cantankerous, and obliged
+her to study an hour overtime to atone for her escapade.
+
+Then followed for Ephie several unhappy days, when all the feeling she
+seemed capable of concentrated itself on the visits of the postman.
+She remained standing at the window until she had seen him come up the
+street, and she was regularly the first to look through the mails as
+they lay on the lobby table. Two days brought no reply to her letter.
+On the third fell a lesson, which she was resolved not to take. But
+when the hour came, she dressed herself with care and went as usual.
+Schilsky was nowhere to be seen. Half a week later, the same thing was
+repeated, except that on this day, she made herself prettier than
+ever: she was like some gay, garden flower, in a big white hat, round
+the brim of which lay scarlet poppies, and a dress of a light blue,
+which heightened the colour of her cheeks, and, reflected in her eyes,
+made them bluer than a fjord in the sun. But her spirits were low; if
+she did not see him this time, despair would crush her.
+
+But she did--saw him while she was still some distance off, standing
+near the portico of the Conservatorium; and at the sight of him, after
+the uncertainty she had gone through during the past week, she could
+hardly keep back her tears. He did not come to meet her; he stood and
+watched her approach, and only when she reached him, indolently held
+out his hand. As she refused to notice it, and went to the extreme
+edge of the pavement to avoid it, he made a barrier of his arms, and
+forced her to stand still. Holding her thus, with his hand on her
+elbow, he looked keenly at her; and, in spite of the obdurate way in
+which she kept her eyes turned from him, he saw that she was going to
+cry. For a moment he hesitated, afraid of the threatening scene, then,
+with a decisive movement, he took her violin-case out of her hand.
+Ephie made an ineffectual effort to get possession of it again, but he
+held it above her reach, and saying: "Wait a minute," ran up the
+steps. He came back without it, and throwing a swift glance round him,
+took the young girl's arm, and walked her off at a brisk pace to the
+woods. She made a few, faint protests. But he replied: "You and I have
+something to say to each other, little girl."
+
+A full hour had elapsed when Ephie appeared again. She was alone, and
+walked quickly, casting shy glances from side to side. On reaching the
+Conservatorium, she waited in a quiet corner of the vestibule for
+nearly a quarter of an hour, before Schilsky sauntered in, and
+released her violin from the keeping of the janitor, a good friend of
+his.
+
+They had not gone far into the wood; Schilsky knew of a secluded seat,
+which was screened by a kind of boscage; and here they had remained.
+At first, Ephie had cried heartily, in happy relief, and he had not
+been able to console her. He had come to meet her with many good
+resolutions, determined not to let the little affair, so lightly
+begun, lead to serious issues; but Ephie's tears, and the tale they
+told, and the sobbed confessions that slipped out unawares, made it
+hard for him to be wise. He put his arm round her, dried her tears
+with his own handkerchief, kissed the hand he held. And when he had in
+this way petted her back to composure, she suddenly looked up in his
+face, and, with a pretty, confiding movement, said:
+
+"Then you do care for me a little?"
+
+It would have need a stronger than he to answer otherwise. "Of course
+I do," was easily said, and to avoid the necessity of more, he kissed
+the pink dimples at the base of her four fingers, as well as the baby
+crease that marked the wrist. The poppy-strewn hat lay on the seat
+beside them; the fluffy head and full white throat were bare; in the
+mellow light of the trees, the lashes looked jet-black on her cheeks;
+at each word, he saw her small, even teeth: and he was so unnerved by
+the nearness of all this fresh young beauty that, when Ephie with her
+accustomed frankness had told him everything he cared to know, he
+found himself saying, in place of what he had intended, that they must
+be very cautious. In the meantime, it would not do for them to be seen
+together: it might injure his prospects, be harmful to his future.
+
+"Yes, but afterwards?" she asked him promptly.
+
+He kissed her cheek. But she repeated the question, and he was obliged
+to reply: that would be a different matter. It was now her turn to be
+curious, and one of the first questions she put related to the dark
+girl he had been with at the theatre. Playing lightly with her
+fingers, Schilsky told her that this was one of his best friends, some
+one he had known for a long, long time, to whom he owed much,
+and whom he could under no circumstances offend. Ephie looked grave
+for a moment; and, in the desire of provoking a pretty confession, he
+asked her if she had minded very much seeing him with some one else.
+But she made him wince by responding with perfect candour: "With her?
+Oh, no! She's quite old."
+
+Before parting, they arranged the date of the next meeting, and, a
+beginning once made, they saw each other as often as was feasible.
+Ephie grew wonderfully apt at excuses for going out at odd times, and
+for prolonged absences. Sound fictions were needed to satisfy Johanna,
+and even Maurice Guest was made to act as dummy: he had taken her for
+a walk, or they had been together to see Madeleine Wade; and by these
+means, and also by occasionally shirking a lesson, she gained a good
+deal of freedom. Johanna would as soon have thought of herself being
+untruthful as of doubting Ephie, whom she had never known to tell a
+lie; and if she did sometimes feel jealous of all the new claims made
+on her little sister's attention, such a feeling was only temporary,
+and she was, for the most part, content to see Ephie content.
+
+At night, in her own room, lying wakeful with hot cheeks and big eyes,
+Ephie went over in memory all that had taken place at their last
+meeting, or built high, top-heavy castles for the future. She was
+absurdly happy; and her mother and sister had never found her more
+charming and lovable, or richer in those trifling inspirations for
+brightening life, which happiness brings with it. She looked forward
+with secret triumph to the day when she would be able to announce her
+engagement to the celebrated young violinist, and the only shadow on
+her happiness was that she could not do this immediately. It did not
+once cross her mind to doubt the issue: she had always had her way,
+and, in her own mind, had long since arranged just how this matter was
+to fall out. She would return to America--where, of course, they would
+live--and get her clothes ready, and then he would come, and they would
+be married--a big wedding, with descriptions in the newspapers. They
+would have a big house, and he would play at concerts--as she had once
+heard Sarasate play in New York--and every one would stand on tiptoe to
+see him. She sat proud and conspicuous in the front row. "His wife.
+That is his wife!" people whispered, and they drew respectfully back
+to let her pass, as, in a very becoming dress, she swept into the
+little room behind the platform, which she alone was permitted to
+enter.
+
+One day at this time there was a violent thunderstorm. Towards midday,
+the eastern sky grew black with clouds, which, for hours, had been
+ominously gathering; a sudden wind rose and swept the dust house-high
+through the streets; the thunder rumbled, and each roll came nearer.
+When, after a prolonged period of expectation, the storm finally
+burst, there was a universal sigh of relief.
+
+The afternoon was damply refreshing. As soon as the rain ceased,
+Maurice shut his piano, and walked at a brisk pace to Connewitz, his
+head bared beneath the overhanging branches, which were still weighed
+down by their burden of drops. At the WALDCAFE on the bank of the
+river, in a thickly grown arbour which he entered to drink a glass of
+beer, he found Philadelphia Jensen and the pale little American,
+Fauvre, taking coffee.
+
+The lady welcomed him with a large, outstretched hand, in the
+effusively hearty manner with which she, as it were, took possession
+of people; and towards six o'clock, the three walked back through the
+woods together, Miss Jensen, resolute of bust as of voice, slightly
+ahead of her companions, carrying her hat in her hand, Fauvre dragging
+behind, hitting indolently at stones and shrubs, and singing scraps of
+melodies to himself in his deep baritone.
+
+Miss Jensen, who had once been a journalist, was an earnest worker for
+woman's emancipation, and having now successfully mounted her hobby,
+spoke with a thought-deadening eloquence. Maurice had never been
+called on to think about the matter, and listened to her words
+absent-mindedly, comparing her, as she swept along, to a ship in full
+sail. She was just asserting that the ordinary German woman was little
+more than means to an end, the end being the man-child, when his
+attention was arrested, and, in an instant, jerked far away from Miss
+Jensen's theories. As they reached the bend of a path, a sound of
+voices came to them through the trees, and on turning a corner,
+Maurice caught a glimpse of two people who were going in the opposite
+direction, down a side-walk--a passing but vivid glimpse of a light,
+flowered dress, of a grey suit of clothes, and auburn hair. Ephie! He
+could have sworn to voice and dress; but to whom in all the world was
+she talking, so confidentially? At the name that rose to his lips, he
+almost stopped short, but the next moment he was afraid lest his
+companions should also have seen who it was, and, quickening his
+steps, he incited Miss Jensen to talk on. First, however, that
+lady said in a surprised tone: "Say, that was Mr. Schilsky, wasn't it?
+Who was the lady? Did you perceive?" So there was no possible doubt of
+it.
+
+After parting from his companions, he did an errand in the town, and
+from there went to the Cayhills' PENSION, determined to ascertain
+whether it had really been Ephie he had seen, and if so, what the
+meaning of it was.
+
+Mrs. Cayhill and Johanna were in the sitting-room; Johanna looked very
+surprised to see him. They had this moment risen from the
+supper-table, she told him; Ephie had only just got home in time.
+Before anything further could be said, Ephie herself came into the
+room; her face was flushed, and she did not seem well-pleased at his
+unexpected visit. She hardly greeted him, and instead, commenced
+talking about the weather.
+
+"Then you had a pleasant walk?" asked Johanna in a preoccupied
+fashion, without looking up from the letter she was writing; and
+before Maurice could speak, Ephie, fondling her sister's neck,
+answered: "How could it be anything but sweet--after the rain?"
+
+In the face of this frankness, it was on Maurice's tongue to say:
+"Then it was you, I saw?" but again she did not give him time. Still
+standing behind Johanna's chair, her eyes fixed on the young man's
+face with a curious intentness, she continued: "We walked right to
+Connewitz and back without a rest."
+
+"I don't think you should take her so far," said Mrs. Cayhill, looking
+up from her book with her kindly smile. "She has never been used to
+walking and is easily tired--aren't you, my pet?"
+
+"Yes, and then she can't get up the next morning," said Johanna,
+mildly dogmatic, considering the following sentence of her letter.
+
+Gradually it broke upon Maurice that Ephie had been making use of his
+name. His consternation at the discovery was such that he changed
+colour. The others, however, were both too engrossed to notice it.
+Ephie grew scarlet, but continued to rattle on, covering his silence.
+
+"Well, perhaps to-day it was a little too far," she admitted. "But
+mummy, I won't have you say I'm not strong. Why, Herr Becker is always
+telling me how full my tone is getting. Yes indeed. And look at my
+muscle."
+
+She turned back the loose sleeve of her blouse, baring almost
+the whole of her rounded arm; then, folding it sharply to her, she
+invited one after another to test its firmness.
+
+"Quite a prize-fighter, I declare!" laughed Mrs. Cayhill, at the same
+time drawing her little daughter to her, to kiss her. But Johanna
+frowned, and told Ephie to put down her sleeve at once; there was
+something in the childish action that offended the elder sister, she
+did not know why. But Maurice had first to lay two of his fingers on
+the soft skin, and then to help her to button the cuff.
+
+When, soon after this, he took his leave, Ephie went out of the room
+with him. In the dark passage, she caught at his hand.
+
+"Morry, you mustn't tell tales on me," she whispered; and added
+pettishly: "Why ever did you just come to-night?"
+
+He tried to see her face. "What is it all about, Ephie?" he asked.
+"Then it WAS you, I saw, in the NONNE--by the weir?"
+
+"Me? In the NONNE!" She was genuinely surprised. "You saw me?"
+
+He nodded. By the light that came from the stairs as she opened the
+hall-door, she noticed that he looked troubled, and an impulse rose in
+her to throw her arms round his neck and say: "Yes, yes, it was me.
+Oh, Morry, I am so happy!" But she remembered the reasons for secrecy
+that had been imposed on her, and, at the same time, felt somewhat
+defiantly inclined towards Maurice. After all, what business was it of
+his? Why should he take her to task for what she chose to do? And so
+she merely laughed, with assumed merriment, her own charming,
+assuaging laugh.
+
+"In the wood?--you old goose! Listen, Morry, I told them I had been
+with you, because--why, because one of the girls in my class asked me
+to go to the CAFE FRANCAIS with her, and we stayed too long, and ate
+too much ice-cream, and Joan doesn't like it, and I knew she would be
+cross--that's all! Don't look so glum, you silly! It's nothing," and
+she laughed again.
+
+As long as this laugh rang in his ears--to the bottom of the street,
+that is--he believed her. Then, the evidence of his senses reasserted
+itself, and he knew that what she had told him was false. He had heard
+her voice in the wood too distinctly to allow of any mistake, and she
+was still wearing the same dress. Besides, she had lied so artlessly
+to the others, without a tremor of her candid eyes--why should she not
+lie to him, too? She was less likely to be considerate of him than of
+Johanna. But his distress at her skill in deceit was so great
+that he said: "Ephie, little Ephie!" aloud to himself, just as he
+might have done had he heard that she was stricken down by a mortal
+illness.
+
+On the top of this, however, came less selfish feelings. What was
+almost a sense of guilt took possession of him; he felt as if, in some
+way, he were to blame for what had happened; as if nature had intended
+him to stand in the place of a brother to this pretty, thoughtless
+child. And yet what could he have done? He did not now see Ephie as
+often as formerly, and hardly ever alone; on looking back, he began to
+suspect that she had purposely avoided him. The exercises in harmony,
+which had previously brought them together, had been discontinued.
+First, she had said that her teacher was satisfied with what she
+herself could do; then, that he had advised her to give up harmony
+altogether: she would never make anything of it. In the light of what
+had come to pass, Maurice saw that he had let himself be duped by her;
+she had lied then as now.
+
+He puzzled his brains to imagine how she had learned to know Schilsky
+in the first instance, and when the affair had begun: what he had
+overheard that afternoon implied an advanced stage of intimacy; and he
+revolved measures by means of which a stop might be put to it. The
+only course he could think of was to lay the matter before Johanna;
+and yet what would the use of that be? Ephie would deny everything,
+make his story ludicrous, himself impossible, and never forgive him
+into the bargain. In the end, he might do more good by watching over
+her silently, at a distance. If it had only not been Schilsky who was
+concerned! Some of the ugly stories he had heard related of the young
+man rose up and took vivid shape before his eyes. If any harm came to
+Ephie, he alone would be to blame for it; not Johanna, only he knew
+the frivolous temptations the young girl was exposed to. Why, in
+Heaven's name, had he not taken both her hands, as they stood in the
+passage, and insisted on her confessing to him? No, credulous as
+usual, he had once more allowed himself to be hoodwinked and put off.
+
+Thus he fretted, without arriving at any clearer conclusion than this:
+that he had unwittingly been made accessory to an unpleasant secret.
+But where his mind baulked, and refused to work, was when he tried to
+understand what all this might mean to the third person involved. Did
+Louise know or suspect anything? Had she, perhaps, for weeks past been
+suffering under the knowledge?
+
+He stood irresolute, at the crossing where the MOZARTSTRASSE joined
+the PROMENADE. A lamp-lighter was beginning his rounds; he came up
+with his long pole to the lamp at the corner, and, with a mild
+explosion, the little flame sprang into life. Maurice turned on his
+heel and went to see Madeleine.
+
+The latter was making her supper of tea, bread, and cold sausage, and
+when she heard that he had not eaten, she set a cup and plate before
+him, and was glad that she happened to be late. Propped open on the
+table was a Danish Grammar, which she conned as she ate; for, in the
+coming holidays, she was engaged to go to Norway, as guide and
+travelling-companion to a party of Englishwomen.
+
+"I had a letter from London to-day," she said, "with definite
+arrangements. So I at once bought this book. I intend to try and
+master at least the rudiments of the language--barbarous though it
+is--for I want to get some good from the journey. And if one has one's
+wits about one, much can be learnt from cab-drivers and railway-porters."
+
+She traced on a map with her forefinger the route they proposed to
+follow, and laughed at the idea of the responsibility lying heavy on
+her. But when they had finished their supper, and she had talked
+informingly for a time of Norway, its people and customs, she looked
+at the young man, who sat irresponsive and preoccupied, and considered
+him attentively.
+
+"Is anything the matter to-night? Or are you only tired?"
+
+He was tired. But though she herself had suggested it, she was not
+satisfied with his answer.
+
+"Something has bothered you. Has your work gone badly?"
+
+No, it was nothing of that sort. But Madeleine persisted: could she be
+of any help to him?
+
+"The merest trifle--not worth talking about."
+
+The twilight had grown thick around them; the furniture of the room
+lost its form, and stood about in shapeless masses. Through the open
+window was heard the whistle of a distant train; a large fly that had
+been disturbed buzzed distractingly, undecided where to re-settle for
+the night. It was sultry again, after the rain.
+
+"Look here, Maurice," Madeleine said, when she had observed him for
+some time in silence. "I don't want to be officious, but
+there's something I should like to say to you. It's this. You are far
+too soft-hearted. If you want to get on in life, you must think more
+about yourself than you do. The battle is to the strong, you know, and
+the strong, within limits, are certainly the selfish. Let other people
+look after themselves; try not to mind how foolish they are--you can't
+improve them. It's harder, I daresay, than it is to be a person of
+unlimited sympathies; it's harder to pass the maimed and crippled by,
+than to stop and weep over them, and feel their sufferings through
+yourself. But YOU have really something in you to occupy yourself
+with. You're not one of those people--I won't mention names!--whose own
+emptiness forces them to take an intense interest in the doings of
+others, and who, the moment they are alone with their thoughts, are
+bored to desperation. just as there are people who have no talent for
+making a home home-like, and are only happy when they are out of it."
+
+Here she laughed at her own seriousness.
+
+"But you are smiling inwardly, and thinking: the real old school-marm!"
+
+"You don't practise what you preach, Madeleine. Besides, you're
+mistaken. At heart, I'm a veritable egoist."
+
+She contradicted him. "I know you better than you know yourself."
+
+He did not reply, and a silence fell, in which the commonplace words
+she had last said, went on sounding and resounding, until they had no
+more likeness to themselves. Madeleine rose, and pushed back her
+chair, with a grating noise.
+
+"I must light the lamp. Sitting in the dark makes for foolishness.
+Come, wake up, and tell me what plans you have for the holidays."
+
+"If I had a sister, I should like her to be like you," said Maurice,
+watching her busy with the lamp. "Clear-headed, and helpful to a fellow."
+
+"I suppose men always will continue to consider that the greatest
+compliment they can pay," said Madeleine, and turned up the light so
+high that they both blinked.--And then she scolded the young man
+soundly for his intention of remaining in Leipzig during the holidays.
+
+But when he rose to go, she said, with an impulsiveness that was
+foreign to her: "I wish you had a friend."
+
+It was his turn to smile. "Have you had enough of me?"
+
+Madeleine, who was sitting with crossed arms, remained grave.
+"I mean a man. Some one older than yourself, and who has had
+experience. The best-meaning woman in the world doesn't count."
+
+Only a very few days later, an occasion offered when, with profit to
+himself, he might have acted upon Madeleine's introductory advice. He
+had been for a quick, solitary walk, and was returning, in the evening
+between nine and ten o'clock, along one of the paths of the wood, when
+suddenly, and close at hand, he heard the sound of voices. He stopped
+instantaneously, for by the jump his heart gave, he knew that Louise
+was one of the speakers. What she said was inaudible to him; but it
+was enough to be able to listen, unseen, to her voice. Hearing it like
+this, as something existing for itself, he was amazed at its depth and
+clearness; he felt that her personal presence had, until now, hindered
+him from appreciating a beautiful but immaterial thing at its true
+worth. At first, like a cadence that repeats itself, its tones rose
+and fell, but with more subtle inflections than the ordinary voice
+has: there was a note in it that might have belonged to a child's
+voice; another, more primitive, that betrayed feeling with as little
+reserve as the cry of an animal. Then it sank, and went on in a
+monotone, like a Hebrew prayer, as if reiterating things worn
+threadbare by repetition, and already said too often. Gradually, it
+died away in the surrounding silence. There was no response but a
+gentle rustling of the leaves overhead. It began anew, and, in the
+interval, seemed to have gained in intensity; now there was a
+bitterness in it which, when it swelled, made it give out a tone like
+the roughly touched strings of an instrument; it seemed to be
+accusing, to be telling of unmerited suffering. And, this time, it
+elicited a reply, but a casual, indifferent one, which might have
+related to the weather, or to the time of night. Louise gave a shrill
+laugh, and then, as plainly as if the words were being carved in stone
+before his eyes, Maurice heard her say: "You have never given me a
+moment's happiness."
+
+As before, no answer was returned, and almost immediately his ear
+caught a muffled sound of footsteps. At the same moment, a night-wind
+shook the tree-tops; there was a general fluttering and swaying around
+him; and he came back to himself to find that he was standing rigid,
+holding on to a slender tree that grew close by the path. His first
+conscious thought was that this wind meant rain . . . there would be
+another storm in the night . . . and the summer holidays--time of
+partings--were at the door. She would go away . . . and he would perhaps
+never see her again.
+
+Since the evening they had walked home from the theatre together, he
+had had no further chance of speaking to her. If they met in the
+street, she gave him, as Madeleine had foretold of her, a nod and a
+smile; and from this coolness, he had drawn the foolish inference that
+she wished to avoid him. Abnormally sensitive, he shrank out of her
+way. But now, the mad sympathy that had permeated him on the night she
+had made him her confidant grew up in him again; it swelled out into
+something monstrous--a gigantic pity that rebounded on himself. For he
+knew now why she suffered; and he was cast down both for her and for
+himself. It seemed unnatural that he was debarred from giving her just
+a fraction of the happiness she craved--he, who, had there been the
+least need for it, would have lain himself down for her to tread on.
+And in some of the subsequent nights when he could not sleep, he
+composed fantastic letters to her, in which he told her this and more,
+only to colour guiltily, with the return of daylight, at the
+impertinent folly of his thoughts.
+
+But he could not forget the words he had heard her say; they haunted
+him like an importunate refrain. Even his busiest hours were set to
+them--"You have never given me a moment's happiness"--and they were
+alike a torture and a joy.
+
+
+
+
+XII.
+
+
+
+The second half of July scattered the little circle in all directions.
+Maurice spent a couple of days at the different railway-stations,
+seeing his friends off. One after another they passed into that
+anticipatory mood, which makes an egoist of the prospective traveller:
+his thoughts start, as it were, in advance; he has none left for the
+people who are remaining behind, and receives their care and attention
+as his due.
+
+Dove was packed and strapped, ready to set out an hour after he had
+had his last lesson; and while he printed labels for his luggage, and
+took a circumstantial leave of his landlady and her family, with whom
+he was a prime favourite by reason of his decent and orderly habits,
+Maurice fetched for him from the lending library, the pieces of music
+set by Schwarz as a holiday task. Dove was on tenterhooks to be off.
+Of late, things had gone superlatively well with him: he had performed
+with applause in an ABENDUNTERHALTUNG, and been highly commended by
+Schwarz; while, as for Ephie, she had been so sweet and winning, so
+modestly encouraging of his suit, that he had every reason to hope for
+success in this quarter also. Too dutiful a son, however, to take,
+unauthorised, such an important step as that of proposing marriage, he
+was now travelling home to sound two elderly people, resident in a
+side street in Peterborough, on the advisability of an American
+daughter-in-law.
+
+The Cayhills had been among the first to leave, and would be absent
+till the middle of September. One afternoon, Maurice started them from
+the THURINGER BAHNHOF, on their journey to Switzerland. Having seen
+Mrs. Cayhill comfortably settled with her bags, books and cushions, in
+the corner of a first-class carriage, and given Johanna assistance with
+the tickets, he stood till the train went, talking to Ephie; and he
+long retained a picture of her, standing with one foot on the step, in
+a becoming travelling-dress, a hat with a veil flying from it, and a
+small hand-bag slung across her shoulder, laughing and dimpling, and
+well aware of the admiring glances that were cast at her. It was a
+relief to Maurice that she was going away for a time; his feeling of
+responsibility with regard to her had not flagged, and he had
+made a point of seeing her more often, and of knowing more of her
+movements than before. As, however, he had not observed anything
+further to disturb him, his suspicions were on the verge of
+subsiding--as suspicions have a way of doing when we wish them to--and
+in the last day or two, he had begun to feel much less sure, and to
+wonder if, after all, he had not been mistaken.
+
+"I shall miss you, Morry. I almost wish I were not going," said Ephie,
+and this was not untrue, in spite of the pretty new dresses her trunks
+contained. "Say, I don't believe I shall enjoy myself one bit. You
+will write, Morry, won't you, and tell me what goes on? All the news
+you hear and who you see and everything."----
+
+"Be sure you write," said Madeleine, too, when he saw her off early in
+the morning to Berlin, where she was to meet her English charges.
+"Christiania, POSTE RESTANTE, till the first, and then Bergen. 'FROKEN
+WADE,' don't forget."
+
+The train started; her handkerchief fluttered from the window until
+the carriage was out of sight.
+
+Maurice was alone; every one he knew disappeared, even Furst, who had
+obtained a holiday engagement in a villa near Dresden. An odd
+stillness reigned in the BRAUSTRASSE and its neighbourhood; from
+houses which had hitherto been clangrous with musical noises, not a
+sound issued. Familiar rooms and lodgings were either closely
+shuttered, or, in process of scouring, hung out their curtains to
+flutter on the sill.
+
+The days passed, unmarked, eventless, like the uniform pages of a dull
+book. When the solitude grew unbearable, Maurice went to visit Frau
+Furst, and had his supper with the family. He was a welcome guest, for
+he not only paid for all the beer that was drunk, but also brought
+such a generous portion of sausage for his own supper, that it
+supplied one or other of the little girls as well. Afterwards, they
+sat round the kitchen-table, listening, the children with the
+old-fashioned solemnity that characterised them, to Frau Furst's
+reminiscences. Otherwise, he hardly exchanged a word with anyone, but
+sat at his piano the livelong day. Of late, Schwarz had been somewhat
+cool and off-hand in manner with him; the master had also not
+displayed the same detailed interest in his plans for the summer, as
+in those of the rest of the class. This was one reason why he had not
+gone away like every one else; the other, that he had been unwilling
+to write home for an increase of allowance. Sometimes, when the day
+was hot, he envied his friends refreshing themselves by wood,
+mountain or sea; but, in the main, he worked briskly at Czerny's
+FINGERFERTIGKEIT, and with such perseverance that ultimately his
+fingers stumbled from fatigue.
+
+With the beginning of August, the heat grew oppressive; all day long,
+the sun beat, fierce and unremittent, on this city of the plains, and
+the baked pavements were warm to the feet. Business slackened, and the
+midday rest in shops and offices was extended beyond its usual limit.
+Conservatorium and Gewandhaus, at first given over to relays of
+charwomen, their brooms and buckets, soon lay dead and deserted, too;
+and if, in the evening, Maurice passed the former building, he would
+see the janitor sitting at leisure in the middle of the pavement,
+smoking his long black cigar. The old trees in the PROMENADE, and the
+young striplings that followed the river in the LAMPESTRASSE, drooped
+their brown leaves thick with dust; the familiar smell of roasting
+coffee, which haunted most house- and stair-ways, was intensified; and
+out of drains and rivers rose nauseous and penetrating odours, from
+which there was no escape. Every three or four days, when the
+atmosphere of the town had reached a pitch of unsavouriness which it
+seemed impossible to surpass, sudden storms swept up, tropical in
+their violence: blasts of thunder cracked like splitting beams;
+lightning darted along the narrow streets; rain fell in white,
+sizzling sheets. But the morning after, it was as hot as ever.
+
+Maurice grew so accustomed to meet no one he knew, that one afternoon
+towards the middle of August, he was pulled up by a jerk of surprise
+in front of the PLEISSENBURG, on stumbling across Heinrich Krafft. He
+had stopped and impulsively greeted the young man, before he recalled
+his previous antipathy to him.
+
+Krafft was sauntering along with his hands in his pockets, and, on
+being accosted, he looked vaguely and somewhat moodily at Maurice. The
+next moment, however, he laid a hand on the lappel of Maurice's coat,
+and, without preamble, burst into a witty and obscene anecdote, which
+had evidently been in his mind when they met. This story, and the fact
+that, by the North Sea, he had stood before breakers twenty feet high,
+were the only particulars Maurice bore away from their interview. His
+previous impatience with such eccentricity returned, but none the
+less, he looked grudgingly after the other's vanishing form.
+
+A day or two later, towards evening, he saw Krafft again. As
+he was going through an outlying street, he came upon a group of
+children, who were amusing themselves by teasing a cat; the animal had
+been hit in the eye by a stone, and cowered, terrified and blinded,
+against the wall of a house. The children formed a half circle round
+it, and two of the biggest boys held a young and lively dog by the
+collar, inciting it and restraining it, and revelling in the cat's
+convulsive starts at each capering bark.
+
+While Maurice was considering how to expostulate with them, Krafft
+came swiftly up behind, jerked two of the children apart, and, with a
+deft and perfectly noiseless movement, caught up the cat and hid its
+head under his coat. Then, cuffing the biggest boy, he kicked the dog,
+and ordered the rest to disperse. The children did so lingeringly; and
+once out of his reach, stood and mocked him.
+
+He begged Maurice to accompany him to his lodgings, and there Maurice
+held the animal, a large, half-starved street-cat, while Krafft, on
+his knees before it, examined the wound. As he did this, he crooned in
+a wordless language, and the cat was quiet, in spite of the pain he
+caused it. But directly he took his hands off it, it jumped from the
+table, and fled under the furthest corner of the sofa.
+
+Krafft next fetched milk and a saucer, from a cupboard in the wall,
+and went down on his knees again: while Maurice sat and watched and
+wondered at his tireless endeavours to induce the animal to advance.
+He explained his proceedings in a whisper.
+
+"If I put the saucer down and leave it," he said, "it won't help at
+all. A cat's confidence must be won straight away."
+
+He was still in this position, making persuasive little noises, when
+the door opened, and Avery Hill, his companion of a previous occasion,
+entered. At the sight of Krafft crouching on the floor, she paused
+with her hand on the door, and looked from him to Maurice.
+
+"Heinz?" she said interrogatively. Then she saw the saucer of milk,
+and understood. "Heinz!" she said again; and this time the word was a
+reprimand.
+
+"Ssh!--be quiet," said Krafft peevishly, without looking up.
+
+The girl took no notice of Maurice's attempt to greet her. Letting
+fall on the grand piano, some volumes of music she was carrying, she
+continued sternly: "Another cat!--oh, it is abominable of you! This is
+the third he has picked up this year," she said explanatorily,
+yet not more to Maurice than to herself. "And the last was so dirty
+and destructive that Frau Schulz threatened to turn him out, if he did
+not get rid of it. He knows as well as I do that he cannot keep a cat
+here."
+
+Her placidly tragic face had grown hard; and altogether, the anger she
+displayed seemed out of proportion to the trival offence.
+
+Krafft remained undisturbed. "It's not the least use scolding. Go and
+make it right with the old crow.--Come, puss, come."
+
+The girl checked the words that rose to her lips, gave a slight shrug,
+and went out of the room. They heard her, in the passage, disputing
+with the landlady, who was justly indignant.
+
+"If it weren't for you, Fraulein, I wouldn't keep him another day,"
+she declared.
+
+Meanwhile the cat, which, in the girl's presence, had shrunk still
+further into its hiding-place, began to make advances. It crept a step
+forward, retreated again, stretched out its nose to sniff at the milk,
+and, all of a sudden, emerged and drank greedily.
+
+Krafft touched its head, and the animal paused in its hungry gulping
+to rub its back against the caressing hand. When the last drop of milk
+was finished, it withdrew to its corner, but less suspiciously.
+
+Krafft rose to his feet and stretched himself, and when Avery
+returned, he smiled at her.
+
+"Now then, is it all right?"
+
+She did not reply, but went to the piano, to search for something
+among the scattered music. Krafft clasped his hands behind his head,
+and leaning against the table, watched her with an ironical curl of
+the lip.
+
+"O LENE! LENE! O MAGDALENE!" he sang under his breath; and, for the
+second time, Maurice received the impression that a by-play was being
+carried on between these two.
+
+"Look at this," said Krafft after a pause. "Here, ladies and
+gentlemen, is one of those rare persons who have a jot of talent in
+them, and off she goes--I don't mean at this moment, but tomorrow, the
+day after, every day--to waste it in teaching children finger-exercises.
+If you ask her why she does it, she will tell you it is necessary to live.
+Necessary to live!--who has ever proved that it is?"
+
+For an instant, it seemed as if the girl were going to flash
+out a bitter retort that might have betrayed her. Then she showed the
+same self-control as before, and went, without a word, into the next
+room. She was absent for a few minutes, and when she reappeared,
+carried what was unmistakably a bundle of soiled linen, going away
+with this on one arm, the volumes of music she had picked out on the
+other. She did not wish the young men good-night, but, in passing
+Maurice, she said in an unfriendly tone: "Do you know what time it
+is?" and to Krafft: "It is late, Heiriz, you are not to play."
+
+The door had barely closed behind her, when Krafft broke into the
+loud, repellent laugh that had so jarred on Maurice at their former
+meeting. He had risen at once, and now said he must go. But Krafft
+would not hear of it; he pressed him into his seat again, with an
+effusive warmth of manner.
+
+"Don't mind her. Stay, like a good fellow. Of course, I am going to
+play to you."
+
+He flicked the keys of the piano with his handkerchief, adjusted the
+distance of his seat, threw back his head, and half closing his eyes,
+began to play. Except for the unsteady flickerings cast on the wall by
+a street-lamp, the room was soon in darkness.
+
+Maurice resumed his seat reluctantly. He had been dragged upstairs
+against his will; and throughout the foregoing scene, had sat an
+uncomfortable spectator. He had as little desire for the girl to
+return and find him there, as for Krafft to play to him. But no excuse
+for leaving offered itself, and each moment made it harder to interrupt
+the player, who had promptly forgotten the fact of his presence.
+
+After he had listened for a time, however, Maurice ceased to think of
+escaping. Madeleine had once alluded to Krafft's skill as an
+interpreter of Chopin, but, all the same, he had not expected anything
+like what he now heard, and at first he could not make anything of it.
+He had hitherto only known Chopin's music as played in the sentimental
+fashion of the English drawing-room. Here, now, came some one who made
+it clear that, no matter how pessimistic it appeared on the surface,
+this music was, at its core an essentially masculine music; it kicked
+desperately against the pricks of existence; what failed it was only
+the last philosophic calm. He could not, of course, know that various
+small things had combined to throw the player into one of his most
+prodigal moods: the rescue and taming of the cat, the passage-at-arms
+with Avery, her stimulating forbiddal, and, last and best, the one
+silent listener in the dark--this stranger, picked up at random
+in the streets, who had never yet heard him play, and to whom he might
+reveal himself with an indecency that friendship precluded.
+
+When at length, Frau Schulz entered, in her bed-jacket, to say that it
+was long past ten o'clock, Krafft wakened as if out of a trance, and
+hid his eyes from the light. Frau Schulz, a robust person, disregarded
+his protests, and herself locked the piano and took the key.
+
+"She makes me promise to," she whispered to Maurice, pointing over her
+shoulder at an imaginary person. "If I didn't, he'd go on all night.
+He's no more fit to look after himself than a baby--and he gets it
+again with his boots in the morning.--Yes, yes, call me names if it
+pleases you. Names don't kill. And if I am a hag, you're a rascal,
+that's what you are! The way you treat that poor, good creature makes
+one's blood boil."
+
+Krafft waved her away, and opening the window, leaned out on the sill:
+a wave of warm air filled the room. Maurice rose with renewed
+decision, and sought his hat. But Krafft also took his down from a
+peg. "Yes, let us go out."
+
+It was a breathless August night, laden with intensified scents and
+smells, and the moonlight lay thick and white on the ground: a night
+to provoke to extravagant follies. In the utter stillness of the
+woods, the young men passed from places of inky blackness into bluish
+white patches, dropped through the trees like monstrous silver
+thalers. The town lay behind them in a glorifying haze; the river
+stretched silver-scaled in the moonlight, like a gigantic fish-back.
+
+Krafft walked in front of his companion, in preoccupied silence. His
+slender hands, dangling loosely, still twitched from their recent
+exertions, and from time to time, he turned the palms outward, with an
+impatient gesture. Maurice wished himself alone. He was not at ease
+under this new companionship that had thrust itself upon him; indeed,
+a strong mental antagonism was still uppermost in him, towards the
+moody creature at whose heels he followed; and if, at this moment, he
+had been asked to give voice to his feelings, the term "crazy idiot"
+would have been the first to rise to his lips.
+
+Suddenly, without turning, or slackening his pace, Krafft commenced to
+speak: at first in a low voice, as if he were thinking aloud. But one
+word gave another, his thoughts came rapidly, he began to gesticulate,
+and finally, wrought on by the beauty of the night, by this choice
+moment for speech, still excited by his own playing, and in an
+infinite need of expression, he swept the silence before him with the
+force of a flood set free. If he thought Maurice were about to
+interrupt him, he made an imploring gesture, and left what he was
+saying unfinished, to spring over to the next theme ready in his
+brain. Names jostled one another on his tongue: he passed from
+Beethoven and Chopin to Berlioz and Wagner, to Liszt and Richard
+Strauss--and his words were to Maurice like the unrolling of a great
+scroll. In the same breath, he was with Nietzsche, and Apollonic and
+Dionysian; and from here he went on to Richard Dehmel, to ANATOL, and
+the gentle "Loris" of the early verses; to Max Klinger, and the
+propriety of coloured sculpture; to PAPA HAMLET and the future of the
+LIED. Maurice, listening intently, had fleeting glimpses into a land
+of which he knew nothing. He kept as still as a mouse, in order not to
+betray his ignorance; for Krafft was not didactic, and talked as if
+the subjects he touched on were as familiar to Maurice as to himself.
+On the other hand, Maurice believed it was a matter of indifference to
+him whether he was understood or not; he spoke for the pure joy of
+talking, out of the motley profusion of his knowledge.
+
+Meanwhile, he had grown personal. And while he was still speaking with
+fervour of Vienna--which was his home--of gay, melancholy Wien, he flung
+round and put a question to his companion.
+
+"Do you ever think of death?"
+
+Maurice had been the listener for so long that he started.
+
+"Death?" he echoed, and was as much embarrassed as though asked
+whether he believed in God. "I don't know. No, I don't think I do. Why
+should one think of death when one is alive and well?"
+
+Krafft laughed at this, with a pitying irony. "Happy you!" he said.
+"Happy you!" His voice sank, and he continued almost fearfully: "I
+have the vision of it before me, always wherever I go. Listen; I will
+tell you; it is like this." He laid his hand on Maurice's arm, and
+drew him nearer. "I know--no matter how strong and sound I may be at
+this moment; no matter how I laugh, or weep, or play the fool; no
+matter how little thought I give it, or whether I think about it all
+day long--I know the hour will come, at last, when I shall gasp, choke,
+grow black in the face, in the vain struggle for another single
+mouthful of that air which has always been mine at will. And no one
+will be able to help me; there is no escape from that hour; no
+power on earth can keep it from me. And it is all a matter of chance
+when it happens--a great lottery: one draws to-day, one to-morrow; but
+my turn will surely come, and each day that passes brings me
+twenty-four hours nearer the end." He drew still closer to Maurice.
+"Tell me, have you never stood before a doorway--the doorway of some
+strange house that you have perhaps never consciously gone past
+before--and waited, with the atrocious curiosity that death and its
+hideous paraphernalia waken in one, for a coffin to be carried out?--the
+coffin of an utter stranger, who is of interest to you now, for
+the first and the last time. And have you not thought to yourself,
+with a shudder, that some day, in this selfsame way, under the same
+indifferent sky, among a group of loiterers as idly curious as these,
+you yourself will be carried out, feet foremost, like a bale of goods,
+like useless lumber, all will and dignity gone from you, never to
+enter there again?--there, where all the little human things you have
+loved, and used, and lived amongst, are lying just as you left
+them--the book you laid down, the coat you wore--now all of a greater
+worth than you. You are mere dead flesh, and behind the horrid lid lie
+stark and cold, with rigid fingers and half-closed eyes, and the chief
+desire of every one, even of those you have loved most, is to be rid
+of you, to be out of reach of sight and smell of you. And so, after
+being carted, and jolted, and unloaded, you will be thrown into a
+hole, and your body, ice-cold, and as yielding as meat to the
+touch--oh, that awful icy softness!--your flesh will begin to rot, to be
+such that not your nearest friend would touch you. God, it is unbearable!"
+
+He wiped his forehead, and Maurice was silent, not knowing what to
+say; he felt that such rational arguments as he might be able to
+offer, would have little value in the face of this intensely personal
+view, which was stammered forth with the bitterness of an accusation.
+But as they crossed the suspensionbridge, Krafft stopped, and stood
+looking at the water, which glistened in the moonlight like a living
+thing.
+
+"No, it is impossible for me to put death out of my mind," he went on.
+"And yet, a spring into this silver fire down here would end all that,
+and satisfy one's curiosity as well. Why is one not readier to make
+the spring?--and what would one's sensations be? The mad rush through
+the air--the crash--the sinking in the awful blackness . . ."
+
+"Those of fear and cold. You would wish yourself out again,"
+answered Maurice; and as Krafft nodded, without seeming to resent his
+tone, he ventured to put forward a few points for the other side of
+the question. He suggested that always to be brooding over death
+unfitted you for life. Every one had to die when his time came; it was
+foolish to look upon your own death as an exception to the rule.
+Besides, when sensation had left you--the soul, the spirit, whatever
+you liked to call it--what did it matter what afterwards became of your
+body? It was, then, in reality, nothing but lumber, fresh nourishment
+for the soil; and it was morbid to care so much how it was treated,
+just because it had once been your tenement, when it was now as
+worthless as the crab's empty shell.
+
+He stuttered this out piece-wise, in his halting German; then paused,
+not sure how his companion would take the didactic tone he had fallen
+into. But Krafft had turned, and was gazing at him, considering him
+attentively for the first time. When Maurice ceased to speak, he
+nodded a hasty assent: "Yes, yes, it is quite true. Go on." And as the
+former, having nothing more to say, was mute, he added: "You are like
+some one I once knew. He was a great musician. I saw him die; he died
+by inches; it lasted for months; he could neither die nor live."
+
+"Why do you brood over these things, if you find them so awful? Are
+you not afraid your nerves will go through with you, and make you do
+something foolish?" asked Maurice, and was himself astonished at his
+boldness.
+
+"Of course I am. My life is a perpetual struggle against suicide,"
+answered Krafft.
+
+In the distance, a church-clock struck a quarter to twelve, and it was
+on Maurice's tongue to suggest that they should move homewards, when,
+with one of his unexpected transitions, Krafft turned to him and said
+in a low voice: "What do you say? Shall you and I be friends?"
+
+Maurice hesitated, in some embarrassment. "Why yes, I should be very
+glad."
+
+"And you will let me say 'DU' to you?"
+
+"Certainly. If you are sure you won't regret it in the morning."
+
+Krafft stretched out his hand. As Maurice held in his the fine, slim
+fingers, which seemed mere skin and muscle, a hitherto unknown feeling
+of kindliness came over him for the young man at his side. At this
+moment, he had the lively sensation that he was the stronger and wiser
+of the two, and that it was even a little beneath him to take
+the other too seriously.
+
+"You think so poorly of me then? You think no good thing can come out
+of me?" asked Krafft, and there was an appealing note in his voice,
+which, but a short time back, had been so overbearing.
+
+Had Maurice known him better, he would have promptly retorted: "Don't
+be a fool." As it was, he laughed. "Who am I to sit in judgment? The
+only thing I do know is, that if I had your talent--no, a quarter of
+it--I should pull myself together and astonish the world."
+
+"It sounds so easy; but I have too many doubts of myself," said
+Krafft, and laid his hand on Maurice's shoulder. "And I have never had
+anyone to keep me up to the mark--till now. I have always needed some
+one like you. You are strong and sympathetic; and one has the feeling
+that you understand."
+
+Maurice was far from certain that he did. However, he answered in a
+frank way, doing his best to keep down the sentimental tone that had
+invaded the conversation. At heart he was little moved by this new
+friendship, which hail begun with the word itself; he told himself
+that it was only a whim of Krafft's, which would be forgotten in the
+morning. But, as they stood thus on the bridge, shoulder to shoulder,
+he did not understand how he could ever have taken anything this frail
+creature did, amiss. At the moment, there was a clinging helplessness
+about Krafft, which instinctively roused his manlier feelings. He said
+to himself that he had done wrong in lightly condemning his companion;
+and, impelled by this sudden burst of protectiveness, he seized the
+moment, and spoke earnestly to Krafft of earnest things, of duty, not
+only to one's fellows, but to oneself and one's abilities, of the
+inspiring gain of unremitted endeavour.
+
+Afterwards, they sauntered home--first to Maurice's lodging, then to
+Krafft's, and once again to Maurice's. At this stage, Krafft was
+frankness itself; Maurice learnt to his surprise that the slim, boyish
+lad at his side was over twenty-seven years of age; that, for several
+semesters, Krafft had studied medicine in Vienna, then had thrown up
+this "disgusting occupation," to become a clerk in a wealthy uncle's
+counting-house. From this, he had drifted into journalism, and
+finally, at the instigation of Hans von Bullow, to music; he had been
+for two and a half years with Bullow, on travel, and in Hamburg, and
+was at present in Leipzig solely to have his "fingers put in order."
+His plans for the future were many, and widely divergent. At
+one time, a musical career tempted him irresistibly; every one but
+Schwarz--this finger-machine, this generator of living
+metronomes--believed that he could make a name for himself as a player
+of Chopin. At other times, and more often, he contemplated retiring
+from the world and entering a monastery. He spoke with a morbid
+horror--yet as if the idea of it fascinated him--of the publicity of the
+concert-platform, and painted in glowing colours a monastery he knew
+of, standing on a wooded hill, not far from Vienna. He had once spent
+several weeks there, recovering from an illness, and the gardens, the
+trimly bedded flowers, the glancing sunlight in the utter silence of
+the corridors, were things he could not forget. He had lain day for
+day on a garden-bench, reading Novalis, and it still seemed to him
+that the wishless happiness of those days was the greatest he had
+known.
+
+Beside this, Maurice's account of himself sounded tame and unimportant;
+he felt, too, that the circumstances of English life were too far removed
+from his companion's sphere, for the latter to be able to understand them.
+
+On waking next morning, Maurice recalled the incidents of the evening
+with a smile; felt a touch of warmth at the remembrance of the moment
+when he had held Krafft's hand in his; then classed the whole episode
+as strained, and dismissed it from his mind. He had just shut the
+piano, after a busy forenoon, when Krafft burst in, his cheeks pink
+with haste and excitement. He had discovered a room to let, in the
+house he lived in, and nothing would satisfy him but that Maurice
+should come instantly to see it. Laughing at his eagerness, Maurice
+put forward his reasons for preferring to remain where he was. But
+Krafft would take no denial, and not wishing to hurt his feelings,
+Maurice gave way, and agreed at least to look at the room.
+
+It was larger and more cheerful than his own, and had also, a
+convenient alcove for the bedstead; and after inspecting it, Maurice
+felt willing to expend the extra marks it cost. They withdrew to
+Krafft's room to come to a decision. There, however, they found Avery
+Hill, who, as soon as she heard what they contemplated, put a veto on
+it. Growing pale, as she always did where others would have flushed,
+she said: "It is an absurd idea--sheer nonsense! I won't have it,
+understand that! Pray, excuse me," she continued to Maurice, speaking
+in a more friendly tone than she had yet used to him, "but you
+must not listen to him. It is just one of his whims--nothing more. In
+less than a week, you would wish yourself away again. You have no idea
+how changeable he is--how impossible to live with."
+
+Maurice hastened to reassure her. Krafft did not speak; he stood at
+the window, with his back to them, his forehead pressed against the
+glass.
+
+So Maurice continued to live in the BRAUSTRASSE, under the despotic
+rule of Frau Krause, who took every advantage of his good-nature. But
+after this, not a day passed without his seeing Krafft; the latter
+sought him out on trivial pretexts. Maurice hardly recognised him: he
+was gentle, amiable, and amenable to reason; he subordinated himself
+entirely to Maurice, and laid an ever-increasing weight on his
+opinion. Maurice became able to wind him round his finger; and the
+hint of a reproof from him served to throw Krafft into a state of
+nervous depression. Without difficulty, Maurice found himself to
+rights in his role of mentor, and began to flatter himself that he
+would ultimately make of Krafft a decent member of society. As it was,
+he soon induced his friend to study in a more methodical way; they
+practised for the same number of hours in the forenoon, and met in the
+afternoon; and Krafft only sometimes broke through this arrangement,
+by appearing in the BRAUSTRASSE early in the morning, and, despite
+remonstrance, throwing himself on the sofa, and remaining there, while
+Maurice practised. The latter ended by growing accustomed to this whim
+as to several other things that had jarred on him--such as Krafft's
+love for a dirty jest--and overlooked or forgave them. At first
+embarrassed by the mushroom growth of a friendship he had not invited,
+he soon grew genuinely attached to Krafft, and missed him when he was
+absent from him.
+
+Avery Hill could hardly be termed third in the alliance; Maurice's
+advent had thrust her into the background, where she kept watch over
+their doings with her cold, disdainful eye. Maurice was not clear how
+she regarded his intrusion. Sometimes, particularly when she saw the
+improvement in Heinrich's way of life, she seemed to tolerate his
+presence gladly; at others again, her jealous aversion to him was too
+open to be overlooked. The jealousy was natural; he was an interloper,
+and Heinz neglected her shamefully for him; but there was something
+else behind it, another feeling, which Maurice could not make out. He
+by no means understood the relationship that existed between
+his friend and this girl of the stone-grey eyes and stern, red lips.
+The two lived almost door by door, went in and out of each other's
+rooms at all hours, and yet, he had never heard them exchange an
+affectionate word, or seen a mark of endearment pass between them.
+Avery's attachment--if such it could be called--was noticeable only in
+the many small ways in which she cared for Krafft's comfort; her
+manner with him was invariably severe and distant, with the exception
+of those occasions when a seeming trifle raised in her a burst of the
+dull, passionate anger, beneath which Krafft shrank. Maurice believed
+that his friend would be happier away from her; in spite of her fresh
+colouring, he, Maurice, found her wanting in attraction, nothing that
+a woman ought to be. But her name was rarely mentioned between them;
+Krafft was, as a rule, reticent concerning her, and when he did speak
+of her, it was in a tone of such contempt that Maurice was glad to
+shirk the subject.
+
+"It's all she wants," Krafft had replied, when his companion ventured
+to take her part. "She wouldn't thank you to be treated differently.
+Believe me, women are all alike; they are made to be trodden on.
+Ill-usage brings out their good points--just as kneading makes dough
+light. Let them alone, or pamper them, and they spread like a weed,
+and choke you"--and he quoted a saying about going to women and not
+forgetting the whip, at which Maurice stood aghast.
+
+"But why, if you despise a person like that--why have her always about
+you?" he cried, at the end of a flaming plea for woman's dignity and
+worth.
+
+Krafft shrugged his shoulders. "I suppose the truth is we are
+dependent on them--yes, dependent, from the moment we are laid in the
+cradle. It's a woman who puts on our first clothes and a woman who
+puts on our last. But why talk about these things?"--he slipped his
+arm through Maurice's. "Tell me about yourself; and when you are tired
+of talking, I will play."
+
+It usually ended in his playing. They ranged through the highways and
+byways of music.
+
+One afternoon--it was a warm, wet, grey day towards the end of
+August--Maurice found Krafft in a strangely apathetic mood. The
+weather, this moist warmth, had got on his nerves, he said; he had
+been unable to settle to anything; was weighed down by a lassitude
+heavier than iron. When Maurice entered, he was stretched on the sofa,
+with closed eyes; on his chest slept Wotan, the one-eyed cat,
+now growing sleek and fat. While Maurice was trying to rally him,
+Krafft sprang up. With a precipitance that was the extreme opposite of
+his previous sloth, he lowered both window-blinds, and, lighting two
+candles, set them on the piano, where they dispersed the immediate
+darkness, but no more.
+
+"I am going to play TRISTAN to you."
+
+Maurice had learnt by this time that it was useless to try to thwart
+Krafft. He laughed and nodded, and having nothing in particular to do,
+lay down in the latter's place on the sofa.
+
+Krafft shook his hair back, and began the prelude to the opera in a
+rapt, ecstatic way, finding in the music an outlet for all his
+nervousness. At first, he played from memory; when this gave out, he
+set the piano-score up before him, then forgot it again, and went on
+playing by heart. Sometimes he sang the different parts, in a light,
+sweet tenor; sometimes recited them, with dramatic fervour. Only he
+never ceased to play, never gave his hearer a moment in which to
+recover himself.
+
+Frau Schulz's entry with the lamp, and her grumblings at the
+"UNVERSCHAMTE SPEKTAKEL" passed unheeded. A strength that was more
+than human seemed to take possession of the frail youth at the piano.
+Evening crept on afternoon, night on evening, and still he continued,
+drunk with the most emotional music conceived by a human brain.
+
+Even when hands and fingers could do no more, the frenzy that was in
+him would not let him rest: he paced the room, and talked--talked for
+hours, his eyes ablaze. A church-clock struck ten, then half-past,
+then eleven, and not for a moment was he still; his speech seemed,
+indeed, to gather impetus as it advanced like a mountain torrent.
+
+Then, all of a sudden, in the middle of a vehement defence of
+anti-Semitism, to which he had been led by the misdeeds of those
+"arch-charlatans," Mendelssohn and Meyerbeer, he stopped short, like a
+run-down clock, and, falling into a chair before the table, buried his
+face in his arms. There was silence, the more intense for all that had
+preceded it. Wotan wakened from sleep, and was heard to stretch his
+limbs, with a yawn and a sigh. The spell was broken; Maurice, his head
+in a whirl, rose stiff and cramped from his uncomfortable position on
+the sofa.
+
+"You rascal, you make one lose all sense of time. And I am starving. I
+must snatch something at Canitz's as I go by."
+
+Krafft started, and raised a haggard face with twitching lips.
+"You are not going to leave me?--like this?"
+
+Maurice was both hungry and tired--worn out, in fact.
+
+"We will go somewhere in the town," said Krafft. "And then for a walk.
+The rain has stopped--look!"
+
+He drew up one of the blinds, and they saw that the stars were shining.
+
+"Yes, but what about to-morrow?--and to-morrow's work?"
+
+"To-morrow may never come. And to-night is."
+
+"Those are only words. Do you know the time?"
+
+Krafft turned quickly from the window. "And if I make it a test of the
+friendship you have professed for me, that you stay here with me
+to-night?--You can sleep on the sofa."
+
+"Why on earth get personal?" said Maurice; he could not find his hat,
+which had fallen in a dark corner. "Heinz, dear boy, be reasonable.
+Come, give me the house-key--like a good fellow."
+
+"It's the first--the only thing, I have asked of you."
+
+"Nonsense. You have asked dozens."
+
+Krafft took a few steps towards him, and threw the key on the floor at
+his feet. Wotan, who was at the door, mewing to be let out, sprang
+back, in affright.
+
+"Go, go, go!" Krafft cried. "I never want to see you again."
+
+Earlier than usual the next morning, Maurice returned to set things
+right, and to laugh with Heinz at their extravagance the night before.
+But Krafft was not to be seen. From Frau Schulz, who flounced past him
+in the passage, first with hot water, then with black coffee, Maurice
+learned that Krafft had been brought home early that morning, in a
+disgraceful state of intoxication. Frau Schulz still boiled at the
+remembrance.
+
+"SO 'N SCHWEIN, SO 'N SCHWEIN!" she cried. "But this time he goes. I
+have said it before and, fool that I am, have always let them persuade
+me. But this is the end. Not a day after the fifteenth will I have him
+in the house."
+
+Maurice slipped away.
+
+Two days passed before he saw his friend again. He found him pale and
+dejected, with reddish, heavy eyes and a sneering smile. He was wholly
+changed; his words were tainted with the perverse irony, which, at the
+beginning of their acquaintance, had made his manner so repellent. But
+now, Maurice was not, at once, frightened away by it; he could not
+believe Heinrich's pique was serious, and gave himself trouble
+to win his friend back. He chid, laughed, rallied, was earnest and
+apologetic, and all this without being conscious of having done wrong.
+
+"I think you had better leave him alone," said Avery, after watching
+his fruitless efforts. "He doesn't want you."
+
+It was true; now Krafft had no thought for anyone but Avery. It was
+Avery here, and Avery there. He called her by a pet name, was anxious
+for her comfort, and hung affectionately on her arm.--The worst of it
+was, that he did not seem in the least ashamed of his fickleness.
+
+Maurice made one further attempt to move him, then, hurt and angry,
+intruded no more. At first, he was chiefly angry. But, gradually, the
+hurt deepened, and became a sense of injury, which made him avoid the
+street Krafft lived in, and shun him when they met. He missed him,
+after the close companionship of the past weeks, and felt as if he had
+been suddenly deprived of a part of himself. And he would no doubt
+have missed him more keenly still, if, just at this juncture, his
+attention had not been engrossed by another and more important matter.
+
+
+
+
+XIII.
+
+
+
+The commencement of the new term had just assembled the incoming
+students to sign their names in the venerable rollbook, when the
+report spread that Schilsky was willing to play his symphonic poem,
+ZARATHUSTRA, to those of his friends who cared to hear it. Curiosity
+swelled the number, and Furst lent his house for the occasion.
+
+"You'll come, of course," said the latter to Maurice, as they left
+Schwarz's room after their lesson; and Madeleine said the same thing
+while driving home from the railway-station, where Maurice had met
+her. She was no more a friend of Schilsky's than he was, but she
+certainly intended to be present, to hear what kind of stuff he had
+turned out.
+
+On the evening of the performance, Maurice and she walked together to
+the BRANDVORWERKSTRASSE. Madeleine had still much to say. She had
+returned from her holiday in the best of health and spirits, liberally
+rewarded for her trouble, and possessed of four new friends, who, no
+doubt, would all be of use to her when she settled in England again.
+This was to be her last winter in Leipzig, and she was drawing up
+detailed plans of work. From now on, she intended to take private
+lessons from Schwarz, in addition to those she received in the class.
+
+"Even though they do cost ten marks each, it makes him ever so much
+better disposed towards you."
+
+She also told him that she had found a letter from Louise waiting for
+her, in which the latter announced her return for the following week.
+Louise wrote from England, and all her cry was to be back in Leipzig.
+
+"Of course--now he is here," commented Madeleine. "You know, I suppose,
+that he has been travelling with Zeppelin? He has the luck of I don't
+know what."
+
+The Cayhills would be absent till the middle of the month; Maurice had
+received from Ephie one widely written note, loud in praise of a
+family of "perfectly sweet Americans," whom they had learnt to know in
+Interlaken, but also expressing eagerness to be at home again in "dear
+old Leipzig." Dove had arrived a couple of days ago--and here
+Madeleine laughed.
+
+"He is absolutely shiny with resolution," she declared. "Mind, Maurice,
+if he takes you into confidence--as he probably will--you are not on any
+account to dissuade him from proposing. A snub will do him worlds of
+good."
+
+They were not the first to climb the ill-lighted stair that wound up
+to the Fursts' dwelling. The entry-door on the fourth storey stood
+open, and a hum of voices came from the sitting-room. The circular
+hat-stand in the passage was crowded with motley headgear.
+
+As they passed the kitchen, the door of which was ajar, Frau Furst
+peeped through the slit, and seeing Maurice, called him in. The
+coffee-pot was still on the stove; he must sit down and drink a cup of
+coffee.
+
+"There is plenty of time. Schilsky has not come yet, and I have only
+this moment sent Adolfchen for the beer."
+
+Maurice asked her if she were not coming in to hear the music. She
+laughed good-naturedly at the idea.
+
+"Bless your heart, what should I do in there, among all you young
+people? No, no, I can hear just as well where I am. When my good
+husband had his evenings, it was always from the kitchen that I
+listened."
+
+Pausing, with a saucepan in one hand, a cloth in the other, she said:
+"You will hear something good to-night, Herr Guest. Oh, he has talent,
+great talent, has young Schilsky! This is not the usual work of a
+pupil. It has form, and it has ideas, and it is new and daring. I know
+one of the motives from hearing Franz play it," and she hummed a theme
+as she replaced on the shelf, the scrupulously cleaned pot. "For such
+a young man, it is wonderful; but he will do better still, depend upon
+it, he will."
+
+Here she threw a hasty glance round the tiny kitchen, at three of the
+children sitting as still as mice in the corner, laid a finger on her
+lips, and, bursting with mystery, leaned over the table and asked
+Maurice if he could keep a secret.
+
+"He is going away," she whispered.
+
+Maurice stared at her. "Going away? Who is? What do you mean?" he
+asked, and was so struck by her peculiar manner that he set his cup
+down untouched.
+
+"Why Schilsky, of course." She thought his astonishment was disbelief,
+and nodded confirmingly. "Yes, yes, he is going away. And soon, too."
+
+"How do you know?" cried Maurice. Sitting back in his chair,
+he stemmed his hands against the edge of the table, and looked
+challengingly at Frau Furst.
+
+"Ssh--not so loud," said the latter. "It's a secret, a dead secret--
+though I'm sure I don't know why. Franz----"
+
+At this very moment, Franz himself came into the kitchen. He looked
+distrustfully at his whispering mother.
+
+"Now then, mother, haven't you got that beer yet?" he demanded. His
+genial bonhomie disappeared, as if by magic, when he entered his home
+circle, and he was particularly gruff with this adoring woman.
+
+"GLEICH, FRANZCHEN, GLEICH," she answered soothingly, and whisked
+about her work again, with the air of one caught napping.
+
+Maurice followed Furst's invitation to join the rest of the party.
+
+The folding-doors between the "best room" and the adjoining bedroom
+had been opened wide, and the guests were distributed over the two
+rooms. The former was brilliantly lighted by three lamps and two
+candles, and all the sitting-accommodation the house contained was
+ranged in a semicircle round the grand piano. Here, not a place was
+vacant; those who had come late were in the bedroom, making shift with
+whatever offered. Two girls and a young man, having pushed back the
+feather-bed, sat on the edge of the low wooden bedstead, with their
+arms interlaced to give them a better balance. Maurice found Madeleine
+on a rickety little sofa that stood at the foot of the bed. Dove sat
+on a chest of drawers next the sofa, his long legs dangling in the
+air. Beside Madeleine, with his head on her shoulder, was Krafft.
+
+"Oh, there you are," cried Madeleine. "Well, I did my best to keep the
+place for you; but it was of no use, as you see. Just sit down,
+however. Between us, we'll squeeze him properly."
+
+Maurice was glad that the room, which was lighted only by one small
+lamp, was in semi-darkness; for, at the sound of his own voice, it
+suddenly became clear to him that the piece of gossip Frau Furst had
+volunteered, had been of the nature of a blow. Schilsky's departure
+threatened, in a way he postponed for the present thinking out, to
+disturb his life; and, in an abrupt need of sympathy, he laid his hand
+on Krafft's knee.
+
+"Is it you, old man? What have you been doing with yourself?"
+
+Krafft gave him one of those looks which, in the early days of
+their acquaintance, had proved so disconcerting--a look of struggling
+recollection.
+
+"Oh, nothing in particular," he replied, without hostility, but also
+without warmth. His mind was not with his words, and Maurice withdrew
+his hand.
+
+Madeleine leaned forward, dislodging Krafft's head from its
+resting-place.
+
+"How long have you two been 'DU' to each other?" she asked, and at
+Maurice's curt reply, she pushed Krafft from her. "Sit up and behave
+yourself. One would think you had an evil spirit in you to-night."
+
+Krafft was nervously excited: bright red spots burnt on his cheeks,
+his hands twitched, and he jerked forward in his seat and threw
+himself back again, incessantly.
+
+"No, you are worse than a mosquito," cried Madeleine, losing patience.
+"Anyone would think you were going to play yourself. And he will be as
+cool as an iceberg. The sofa won't stand it, Heinz. If you can't stop
+fidgeting, get up."
+
+He had gone, before she finished speaking; for a slight stir in the
+next room made them suppose for a moment that Schilsky was arriving.
+Afterwards, Krafft was to be seen straying about, with his hands in
+his pockets; and, on observing his rose-pink cheeks and tumbled curly
+hair, Madeleine could not refrain from remarking: "He ought to have
+been a girl."
+
+The air was already hot, by reason of the lamps, and the many breaths,
+and the firmly shut double-windows. The clamour for beer had become
+universal by the time Adolfchen arrived with his arms full of bottles.
+As there were not enough glasses to go round, every two or three
+persons shared one between them--a proceeding that was carried out with
+much noisy mirth. Above all other voices was to be heard that of Miss
+Jensen, who, in a speckled yellow dress, with a large feather fan in
+her hand, sat in the middle of the front row of seats. It was she who
+directed how the beer should be apportioned; she advised a few
+late-comers where they would still find room, and engaged Furst to
+place the lights on the piano to better advantage. Next her, a Mrs.
+Lautenschlager, a plump little American lady, with straight yellow
+hair which hung down on her shoulders, was relating to her neighbour
+on the other side, in a tone that could be clearly heard in both
+rooms, how she had "discovered" her voice.
+
+"I come to Schwarz, last fall," she said shaking back her
+hair, and making effective use of her babyish mouth; "and he thinks no
+end of me. But the other week I was sick, and as I lay in bed, I sung
+some--just for fun. And my landlady--she's a regular singer herself--who
+was fixing up the room, she claps her hands together and says: 'My
+goodness me! Why YOU have a voice!' That's what put it in my head, and
+I went to Sperling to hear what he'd got to say. He was just tickled
+to death, I guess he was, and he's going to make something dandy of
+it, so I stop long enough. I don't know what my husband'll say though.
+When I wrote him I was sick, he says: 'Come home and be sick at
+home'--that's what he says."
+
+Miss Jensen could not let pass the opportunity of breaking a lance for
+her own master, the Swede, and of cutting up Sperling's method, which
+she denounced as antiquated. She made quite a little speech, in the
+course of which she now and then interrupted herself to remind
+Furst--who, was as soft as a pudding before her--of something he had
+forgotten to do, such as snuffing the candles or closing the door.
+
+"Just let me hear your scale, will you?" she said patronisingly to
+Mrs. Lautenschlager. The latter, nothing loath, stuck out her chin,
+opened her mouth, and, for a short time, all other noises were drowned
+in a fine, full volume of voice.
+
+On their sofa, Madeleine and Maurlee sat in silence, pretending to
+listen to Dove, who was narrating his journey. Madeleine was out of
+humour; she tapped the floor, and had a crease in her forehead. As for
+Maurice, he was in such poor spirits that she could not but observe
+it.
+
+"Why are you so quiet? Is anything the matter?"
+
+He shook his head, without speaking. His vague sense of impending
+misfortune had crystallised into a definite thought; he knew now what
+it signified. If Schilsky went away from Leipzig, Louise would
+probably go, too, and that would be the end of everything.
+
+"I represented to him," he heard Dove saying, "that I had seen the
+luggage with my own eyes at Flushing. What do you think he answered?
+He looked me up and down, and said: 'ICH WERDE TELEGRAPHIEREN UND
+ERKUNDIGUNGEN EINZIEHEN.' Now, do you think if you said to an English
+station-master: 'Sir, I saw the luggage with my own eyes,' he would
+not believe you? No, in my opinion, the whole German railway-system
+needs revision. Would you believe it, we did not make fifty kilometers
+in the hour, and yet our engine broke down before Magdeburg?"
+
+So this would be the end; the end of foolish dreams and weak
+hopes, which he had never put into words even to himself, which had
+never properly existed, and yet had been there, nevertheless, a mass
+of gloriously vague perhapses. The end was at hand--an end before there
+had been any beginning.
+
+". . . the annoyance of the perpetual interruptions," went on the
+voice on the other side. "A lady who was travelling in the same
+compartment--a very pleasant person, who was coming over to be a
+teacher in a school in Dresden--I have promised to show her our lions
+when she visits Leipzig: well, as I was saying, she was quite alarmed
+the first time he entered in that way, and it took me some time, I
+assure you, to make her believe that this was the German method of
+revising tickets."
+
+The break occasioned by the arrival of the beer had been of short
+duration, and the audience was growing impatient; at the back of the
+room, some one began to stamp his feet; others took it up. Furst
+perspired with anxiety, and made repeated journeys to the stair-head,
+to see if Schilsky were not coming. The latter was almost an hour late
+by now, and jests, bald and witty, were made at his expense. Some one
+offered to take a bet that he had fallen asleep and forgotten the
+appointment, and at this, one of the girls on the bed, a handsome
+creature with bold, prominent eyes, related an anecdote to her
+neighbours, concerning Schilsky's powers of sleep. All three exploded
+with laughter. In a growing desire to be asked to play, Boehmer had
+for some time hung about the piano, and was now just about to drop, as
+if by accident, upon the stool, when the cry of: "No Bach!" was
+raised--Bach was Boehmer's specialty--and re-echoed, and he retired red
+and discomfited to his Place in a corner of the room, where his
+companion, a statuesque little English widow, made biting observations
+on the company's behaviour. The general rowdyism was at its height,
+when some one had the happy idea that Krafft should sing them his
+newest song. At this, there was a unanimous shriek of approval, and
+several hands dragged Krafft to the piano. But himself the wildest of
+them all, he needed no forcing. Flinging himself down on the seat, he
+preluded wildly in imitation of Rubinstein. His hearers sat with their
+mouths open, a fixed smile on their faces, laughter ready in their
+throats, and only Madeleine was coolly contemptuous.
+
+"Tom-fool!" she said in a low voice.
+
+Krafft was confidently expected to burst into one of those
+songs for which he was renowned. Few of his friends were able to sing
+them, and no one but himself could both sing and play them
+simultaneously: they were a monstrous, standing joke. Instead of this,
+however, he turned, winked at his audience, and began a slow,
+melancholy ditty, with a recurring refrain. He was not allowed to
+finish the first verse; a howl of disapproval went up; his hearers
+hooted, jeered and stamped.
+
+"Sick cats!"
+
+"Damn your 'WENIG SONNE!'"--this was the refrain.
+
+"Put your head in a bag!"
+
+"Pity he drinks!"
+
+"Give us one of the rousers--the rou . . . sers!"
+
+Krafft himself laughed unbridledly. "DAS ICH SPRICHT!"--he announced.
+"In C sharp major."
+
+There was a hush of anticipation, in which Dove, stopping his BRETZEL
+half-way to his mouth, was heard to say in his tone of measured
+surprise: "C sharp major! Why, that is----"
+
+The rest was drowned in the wild chromatic passages that Krafft sent
+up and down the piano with his right hand, while his left followed
+with full-bodied chords, each of which exceeded the octave. Before,
+however, there was time to laugh, this riot ceased, and became a
+mournful cadence, to the slowly passing harmonies of which, Krafft
+sang:
+
+
+I am weary of everything that is, under the sun.
+I sicken at the long lines of rain, which are black against the sky;
+They drip, for a restless heart, with the drip of despair:
+For me, winds must rage, trees bend, and clouds sail stormily.
+
+
+The whirlwind of the prelude commenced anew; the chords became still
+vaster; the player swayed from side to side, like a stripling-tree in
+a storm. Madeleine said, "Tch!" in disgust, but the rest of the
+company, who had only waited for this, burst into peals of laughter;
+some bent double in their seats, some leant back with their chins in
+the air. Even Dove smiled. Just, however, as those whose sense of
+humour was most highly developed, mopped their faces with gestures of
+exhaustion, and assured their neighbours that they "could not, really
+could not laugh any more," Furst entered and flapped his hands.
+
+"Here he comes!"
+
+A sudden silence fell, broken only by a few hysterical giggles from
+the ladies, and by a frivolous American, who cried: "Now for
+ALSO SCHRIE ZENOPHOBIA!" Krafft stopped playing, but remained sitting
+at the piano, wiping down the keys with his handkerchief.
+
+Schilsky came in, somewhat embarrassed by the lull which had succeeded
+the hubbub heard in the passage, but wholly unconcerned at the
+lateness of the hour: except in matters of practical advancement, time
+did not exist for him. As soon as he appeared, the two ladies in the
+front row began to clap their hands; the rest of the company followed
+their example, then, in spite of Furst's efforts to prevent it, rose
+and crowded round him. Miss Jensen and her friend made themselves
+particularly conspicuous. Mrs Lauterischlager had an infatuation for
+the young man, of which she made no secret; she laid her hand
+caressingly on his coat-sleeve, and put her face as near his as
+propriety admitted.
+
+"Disgusting, the way those women go on with him!" said Madeleine. "And
+what is worse, he likes it."
+
+Schilsky listened to the babble of compliments with that mixture of
+boyish deference and unequivocal superiority, which made him so
+attractive to women. He was too good-natured to interrupt them and
+free himself, and would have stood as long as they liked, if Furst had
+not come to the rescue and led him to the piano. Schilsky laid his
+hand affectionately on Krafft's shoulder, and Krafft sprang up in
+exaggerated surprise. The audience took its seats again; the thick
+manuscript-score was set up on the music-rack, and the three young men
+at the piano had a brief disagreement with one another about turning
+the leaves: Krafft was bent on doing it, and Schilsky objected, for
+Krafft had a way of forgetting what he was at in the middle of a page.
+Krafft flushed, cast an angry look at his friend, and withdrew, in
+high dudgeon, to a corner.
+
+Standing beside the piano, so turned to those about him that the two
+on the sofa in the next room only saw him sideways, and ill at that,
+Schilsky gave a short description of his work. He was nervous, which
+aggravated his lisp, and he spoke so rapidly and in such a low voice
+that no one but those immediately in front of him, could understand
+what he said. But it did not matter in the least; all present had come
+only to hear the music; they knew and cared nothing about Zarathustra
+and his spiritual development; and one and all waited impatiently for
+Schilsky to stop speaking. The listeners in the bedroom----merely
+caught disjointed words--WERDEGANG, NOTSCHREI, TARANTELN--but not one
+was curious enough even to lean forward in his seat. Madeleine
+made sarcastic inward comments on the behaviour of the party.
+
+"It's perfectly clear to you, I suppose," she could not refrain from
+observing as, at the finish, Dove sagely wagged his head in agreement.
+
+It transpired that there was an ode to be sung before the last section
+of the composition, and a debate ensued who, should sing it. The two
+ladies in the front had quite a little quarrel--without knowing
+anything about the song--as to which of their voices would best suit
+it. Schilsky was silent for a moment, tapping his fingers, then said
+suddenly: "Come on, Heinz," and looked at Krafft. But the latter, who
+was standing morose, with folded arms, did not move. He had a dozen
+reasons why he should not sing; he had a cold, was hoarse, was out of
+practice, could not read the music from sight.
+
+"Good Heavens, what a fool Heinz is making of himself tonight!" said
+Madeleine.
+
+But Schilsky thumped his fist on the lid, and said, if Krafft did not
+sing it, no one should; and that was the end of the matter. Krafft was
+pulled to the piano.
+
+Schilsky took his seat, and, losing his nervousness as soon as he
+touched the keys, preluded firmly and easily, with his large, white
+hands. Now, every one leaned forward to see him better; especially the
+ladies threw themselves into positions from which they could watch
+hair and hands, and the slender, swaying figure.
+
+"Isn't he divine?" said the bold-eyed girl on the bed, in a loud
+whisper, and hung upon her companion's neck in an ecstatic attitude.
+
+After the diversity of noises which had hitherto interfered with his
+thinking connectedly, Maurice welcomed the continuous sound of the
+music, which went on without a break. He sat in a listening attitude,
+shading his eyes with his hand. Through his fingers, he
+surreptitiously watched the player. He had never before had an
+opportunity of observing Schilsky so closely, and, with a kind of
+blatant generosity, he now pointed out to himself each physical detail
+that he found prepossessing in the other, every feature that was
+likely to attract--in the next breath, only to struggle with his honest
+opinion that the composer was a slippery, loose-jointed, caddish
+fellow, who could never be proved to be worthy of Louise. But he was
+too down-hearted at what he had learnt in the course of the evening,
+to rise to any active feeling of dislike.
+
+Intermittently he heard, in spite of himself, something of
+Schilsky's music; but he was not in a frame of mind to understand or
+to retain any impression of it. He was more effectively jerked out of
+his preoccupation by single spoken words, which, from time to time,
+struck his ear: this was Furst, who, in the absence of a programme,
+announced from his seat beside Schilsky, the headings of the different
+sections of the work: WERDEGANG; SEILTANZER--here Maurice saw Dove
+conducting with head and hand--NOTSCHREI; SCHWERMUT; TARANTELN--and here
+again, but vaguely, as if at a distance, he heard suppressed laughter.
+But he was thoroughly roused when Krafft, picking up a sheet of music
+and coming round to the front of the piano, began to sing DAS TRUNKENE
+LIED. By way of introduction, the low F in the bass of F minor sounded
+persistently, at syncopated intervals; Schilsky inclined his head, and
+Krafft sang, in his sweet, flute-like voice:
+
+
+Oh, Mensch! Gieb Acht!
+Was spricht die tiefe Mitternacht?
+"Ich schlief, ich schlief,
+Aus tiefem Schlaf bin ich erwacht:
+Die Welt ist tief,
+Und tiefer als der Tag gedacht."
+
+
+--the last phrase of which was repeated by the accompaniment, a
+semitone higher.
+
+
+Tief ist ihr Weh,
+Lust--tiefer noch als Herzeleid:
+
+
+As far as this, the voice had been supported by simple, full-sounding
+harmonies. Now, from out the depths, still of F minor, rose a
+hesitating theme, which seemed to grope its way: in imagination, one
+heard it given out by the bass strings; then the violas reiterated it,
+and dyed it purple; voice and violins sang it together; the high
+little flutes carried it up and beyond, out of reach, to a half close.
+
+
+Weh spricht: vergeh!
+
+
+Suddenly and unexpectedly, there entered a light yet mournful phrase
+in F major, which was almost a dance-rhythm, and seemed to be a small,
+frail pleading for something not rightly understood.
+
+
+Doch alle Lust will Ewigkeit,
+Will tiefe, tiefe Ewigkeit.
+
+
+The innocent little theme passed away, and the words were sung again
+to a stern and fateful close in D flat major.
+
+The concluding section of the work returned to these motives,
+developed them, gathered them together, grouped them and interchanged
+them, in complicated thermatic counterpoint. Schilsky was barely able
+to cope with the difficulties of the score; he exerted himself
+desperately, laboured with his head and his whole body, and surmounted
+sheerly unplayable parts with the genial slitheriness that is the
+privilege of composers.
+
+When, at last, he crashed to a close and wiped his face in exhaustion,
+there was a deafening uproar of applause. Loud cries were uttered and
+exclamations of enthusiasm; people rose from their seats and crowded
+round the piano to congratulate the player. Mrs. Lautenschlager could
+not desist from kissing his hand. A tall, thin Russian girl in
+spectacles, who had assiduously taken notes throughout, asked in a
+loud voice, and her peculiar, hoppy German, for information about the
+orchestration. What use had he made of the cymbals? She trusted a
+purely Wagnerian one. Schilsky hastened to reopen the score, and sat
+himself to answer the question earnestly and at length.
+
+"Come, Maurice, let us go," said Madeleine, rising and shaking the
+creases from her skirt. "There will be congratulations enough. He
+won't miss ours."
+
+Maurice had had an idea of lingering till everybody else had gone, on
+the chance of picking up fresh facts. But he was never good at
+excuses. So they slipped out into the passage, followed by Dove; but
+while the latter was looking for his hat, Madeleine pulled Maurice
+down the stairs.
+
+"Quick, let us go!" she whispered; and, as they heard him coming after
+them, she drew her companion down still further, to the cellar flight,
+where they remained hidden until Dove had passed them, and his steps
+had died away in the street.
+
+"We should have had nothing but his impressions and opinions all the
+way home," she said, as they emerged. "He was bottled up from having
+to keep quiet so long--I saw it in his face. And I couldn't stand it
+to-night. I'm in a bad temper, as you may have observed--or perhaps you
+haven't."
+
+No, he had not noticed it.
+
+"Well, you would have, if you hadn't been so taken up with yourself.
+What on earth is the matter with you?"
+
+He feigned. surprise: and they walked in silence down one street and
+into the next. Then she spoke again. "Do you know--but you're sure not
+to know that either--you gave me a nasty turn to-night?"
+
+"I?" His surprise was genuine this time.
+
+"Yes, you--when I heard you say 'DU' to Heinz."
+
+He looked at her in astonishment; but she was not in a hurry to
+continue. They walked another street-length, and all she said was:
+"How refreshing the air is after those stuffy rooms!"
+
+As they turned a corner however, she made a fresh start.
+
+"I think it's rather hard on me," she said, and laughed as she spoke.
+"Here am I again, having to lecture you! The fact is, I suppose, one's
+METIER clings to one, in spite of oneself. But there must be something
+about you, too, Maurice Guest, that makes one want to do it--want to
+look after you, so to speak--as if you couldn't be trusted to take care
+of yourself. Well, it disturbed me to-night, to see how intimate you
+and Heinz have got."
+
+"Is that all? Why on earth should that trouble you? And anyhow," he
+added, "the whole affair came about without any wish of mine."
+
+"How?" she demanded; and when he had told her: "And since then?"
+
+He went into detail, coolly, without the resentment he had previously
+felt towards Krafft.
+
+"And that's all?"
+
+"Isn't it enough--for a fellow to go on in that way?"
+
+"And you feel aggrieved?"
+
+"No, not now. At first I was rather sore, though, for Heinz is an
+interesting fellow, and we were very thick for a time."
+
+"Yes, of course--until Schilsky comes back. As soon as he appears on
+the scene, Master Heinz gives you the cold shoulder. Or perhaps you
+didn't know that Heinz is the attendant spirit of that heaven-born
+genius?"
+
+Maurice did not reply, and when she spoke again, it was with renewed
+seriousness. "Believe me, Maurice, he is no friend for you. It's not
+only that you ought to be above letting yourself be treated in this
+way, but Heinz's friendship won't do you any good. He belongs to a bad
+set here--and Schilsky, too. If you were long with Heinz, you
+would be bound to get drawn into it, and then it would be good-bye to
+anything you might have done--to work and success. No, take my
+advice--it's sincerely meant--and steer clear of Heinz."
+
+Maurice smiled to himself at her womanly idea of Krafft leading him to
+perdition. "But you're fond of him yourself, Madeleine," he said. "You
+can't help liking him either."
+
+"I daresay I can't. But that is quite a different matter--quite;" and
+as if more than enough had now been said, she abruptly left the
+subject.
+
+Before going home that night, Maurice made the old round by way of the
+BRUDERSTRASSE, and stood and looked up at the closed windows behind
+which Louise lived. The house was dark, and as still as was the
+deserted street. Only the Venetian blinds seemed to be faintly alive;
+the outer windows, removed for the summer, had not yet been replaced,
+and a mild wind flapped the blinds, just as it swayed the tops of the
+trees in the opposite garden. There was a breath of autumn in the air.
+He told himself aloud, in the nightly silence, that she was going
+away--as if by repeating the words, he might ultimately grow used to
+their meaning. The best that could be hoped for was that she would not
+go immediately, but would remain in Leipzig for a few weeks longer.
+Then a new fear beset him. What if she never came back again?--if she
+had left the place quietly, of set purpose?--if these windows were
+closed for good and all? A dryness invaded his throat at the
+possibility, and on the top of this evening of almost apathetic
+resignation to the inevitable, the knowledge surged up in him that all
+he asked was to be allowed to see her just once more. Afterwards, let
+come what might. Once again, he must stand face to face with her--must
+stamp a picture of her on his brain, to carry with him for ever.
+
+For ever!--And through his feverish sleep ran, like a thread, the
+words he had heard Krafft sing, of an eternity that was deep and
+dreamless, a joy without beginning or end.
+
+
+
+Madeleine had waved her umbrella at him. He crossed the road to where
+she was standing in rain-cloak and galoshes. She wished to tell him
+that the date of her playing in the ABENDUNTERHALTUNG had been
+definitely fixed. About to go, she said:
+
+"Louise is back--did you know?"
+
+Of course he knew, though he did not tell her so--knew almost
+the exact hour at which the blinds had been drawn up, the windows
+opened, and a flower-pot, in a gaudy pink paper, put out on the sill.
+
+Not many days after this, he came upon Louise herself. She was
+standing talking, at a street-corner, to the shabby little Englishman,
+Eggis, with whom she had walked the FOYER of the theatre. Maurice was
+about to bow and pass by, but she smiled and held out her hand.
+
+"You are back, too, then? To-day I am meeting all my friends."
+
+She had fur about her neck, although the weather was not really cold,
+and her face rose out of this setting like a flower from its cup.
+
+This meeting, and the few cordial words she had spoken, helped him
+over the days that followed. Sometimes, while he waited for the blow
+to fall, his daily life grew very unimportant; things that had
+hitherto interested him, now went past like shadows; he himself was a
+mere automaton. But sometimes, too, and especially after he had seen
+Louise, and touched her living hand, he wondered whether he were not
+perhaps tormenting himself unnecessarily. Nothing more had come to
+light; no one had hinted by a word at Schilsky's departure; it might
+yet prove to be all a mistake.
+
+Then, however, he received a postcard from Madeleine, saying that she
+had something interesting to tell him. He went too early, and spent a
+quarter of an hour pacing her room. When she entered, she threw him a
+look, and, before she had finished taking off her wraps, said:
+
+"Maurice, I have a piece of news for you. Schilsky is going away."
+
+He nodded; his throat was dry.
+
+"Why, you don't mean to say you knew?" she cried, and paused half-way
+out of her jacket.
+
+Maurice went to the window, and stood with his back to her. In one of
+the houses opposite, at a window on the same level, a girl was
+practising the violin; his eyes followed the mechanical movements of
+the bow.
+
+He cleared his throat. "Do you--Is it likely--I mean, do you
+think?----"
+
+Madeleine understood him. "Yes, I do. Louise won't stay here a day
+longer than he does; I'm sure of that."
+
+But otherwise she knew no more than Maurice; and she did not
+offer to detain him, when, a few minutes later, he alleged a pressing
+appointment. Madeleine was annoyed, and showed it; she had come in
+with the intention of being kind to him, of encouraging him, and
+discussing the matter sympathetically, and it now turned out that not
+only had he known it all the time, but had also kept it a secret from
+her. She did not like underhand ways, especially in people whom she
+believed she knew inside out.
+
+Now that the pledge of secrecy had been removed from him, Maurice felt
+that he wanted facts; and, without thinking more about it than if he
+had been there the day before, he climbed the stairs that led to
+Krafft's lodging.
+
+He found him at supper; Avery was present, too, and on the table sat
+Wotan, who was being regaled with strips of skin off the sausage.
+Krafft greeted Maurice with a touch of his former effusiveness; for he
+was in a talkative mood, and needed an audience. At his order, Avery
+put an extra plate on the table, and Maurice had to share their meal.
+It was not hard for him to lead Krafft round to the desired subject.
+It seemed that one of the masters in the Conservatorium had expressed
+a very unequivocal opinion of Schilsky's talents as a composer, and
+Krafft was now sarcastic, now merry, at this critic's expense. Maurice
+laid down his knife, and, in the first break, asked abruptly: "When
+does he go?"
+
+"Go?--who?" said Krafft indifferently, tickling Wotan's nose with a
+piece of skin which he held out of reach.
+
+"Who?--why, Schilsky, of course."
+
+It sounded as if another than he had said the words: they were so
+short and harsh. The plate Avery was holding fell to the floor. Krafft
+sat back in his chair, and stared at Maurice, with a face that was all
+eyes.
+
+"You knew he was going away?--or didn't you?" asked Maurice in a rough
+voice. "Every one knows. The whole place knows."
+
+Krafft laughed. "The whole place knows: every one knows," he repeated.
+"Every one, yes--every one but me. Every one but me, who had most right
+to know. Yes, I alone had the right; for no one has loved him as I
+have."
+
+He rose from the table, knocking over his chair. "Or else it is not true?"
+
+"Yes, it is true. Then you didn't know?" said Maurice, bewildered by
+the outburst he had evoked.
+
+"No, we didn't know." It was Avery who spoke. She was on her knees,
+picking up the pieces of the plate with slow, methodical fingers.
+
+Krafft stood hesitating. Then he went to the piano, opened it,
+adjusted the seat, and made all preparations for playing. But with his
+fingers ready on the keys, he changed his mind and, instead, laid his
+arms on the folded rack and his head on his arms. He did not stir
+again, and a long silence followed. The only sound that was to be
+heard came from Wotan, who, sitting on his haunches on a corner of the
+table, washed the white fur of his belly with an audible swish.
+
+
+
+
+XIV.
+
+
+
+Whistling to him to stop, Furst ran the length of a street-block after
+Maurice, as the latter left the Conservatorium.
+
+"I say, Guest," he said breathlessly, on catching up with him. "Look
+here, I just wanted to tell you, you must be sure and join us
+to-night. We are going to give Schilsky a jolly send-off."
+
+They stood at the corner of the WACHTERSTRASSE; it was a blowy day.
+Maurice replied evasively, with his eyes on the unbound volume of
+Beethoven that Furst was carrying; its tattered edges moved in the
+wind.
+
+"When does he go?" he asked, without any show of concern.
+
+Furst looked warily round him, and dropped his voice. "Well, look
+here, Guest, I don't mind telling you," he said; he was perspiring
+from his run, and dried his neck and face. "I don't mind telling you;
+you won't pass it on; for he has his reasons--family or domestic
+reasons, if one may say so, tra-la-la!"--he winked, and nudged Maurice
+with his elbow--"for not wanting it to get about. It's deuced hard on
+him that it should have leaked out at all. I don't know how it
+happened; for I was mum, 'pon my honour, I was."
+
+"Yes. And when does he go?" repeated his hearer with the same want of
+interest.
+
+"To-morrow morning early, by the first train."
+
+Now to be rid of him! But it was never easy to get away from Furst,
+and since Maurice had declared his intention of continuing to take
+lessons from him, as good as impossible. Furst was overpowering in his
+friendliness, and on this particular occasion, there was no escape for
+Maurice before he had promised to make one of the party that was to
+meet that night, at a restaurant in the town. Then he bluffly alleged
+an errand in the PLAGWITZERSTRASSE, and went off in an opposite
+direction to that which his companion had to take.
+
+As soon as Furst was out of sight, he turned into the path that led to
+the woods. Overhead, the sky was a monotonous grey expanse, and a
+soft, moist wind drove in gusts, before which, on the open
+meadow-land, he bent his head. It was a wind that seemed heavy with
+unfallen rain; a melancholy wind, as the day itself was melancholy, in
+its faded colours, and cloying mildness. With his music under his arm,
+Maurice walked to the shelter of the trees. Now that he had learnt the
+worst, a kind of numbness came over him; he had felt so intensely in
+the course of the past week that, now the crisis was there, he seemed
+destitute of feeling.
+
+His feet bore him mechanically to his favourite seat, and here he
+remained, with his head in his hands, his eyes fixed on the trodden
+gravel of the path. He had to learn, once and for all, that, by
+tomorrow, everything would be over; for, notwithstanding the
+wretchedness of the past days, he was as far off as ever from
+understanding. But he was loath to begin; he sat in a kind of torpor,
+conscious only of the objects his eyes rested on: some children had
+built a make-believe house of pebbles, with a path leading up to the
+doorway, and at this he gazed, estimating the crude architectural
+ideas that had occurred to the childish builders. He felt the wind in
+his hair, and listened to the soothing noise it made, high above his
+head. But gradually overcoming this physical dullness, his mind began
+to work again. With a sudden vividness, he saw himself as he had
+walked these very woods, seven months before; he remembered the
+brilliant colouring of the April day, and the abundance of energy that
+had possessed him. Then, on looking into the future, all his thoughts
+had been of strenuous endeavour and success. Now, success was a word
+like any other, and left him cold.
+
+For a long time, in place of passing on to his real preoccupation, he
+considered this, brooding over the change that had come about in him.
+Was it, he asked himself, because he had so little whole-hearted
+endurance, that when once a thing was within his grasp, that grasp
+slackened? Was it that he was able to make the effort required for a
+leap, then, the leap over, could not right himself again? He believed
+that the slackening interest, the inability to fix his attention,
+which he had had to fight against of late, must have some such deeper
+significance; for his whole nature--the inherited common sense of
+generations--rebelled against tracing it back to the day on which he
+had seen a certain face for the first time. It was too absurd to be
+credible that because a slender, dark-eyed girl had suddenly come
+within his range of vision, his life should thus lose form and
+purpose--incredible and unnatural as well--and, in his present
+mood, he would have laughed at the suggestion that this was love. To
+his mind, love was something frank and beautiful, made for daylight
+and the sun; whereas his condition was a source of mortification to
+him. To love, without any possible hope of return; to love, knowing
+that the person you loved regarded you with less than indifference,
+and, what was worse, that this person was passionately attached to
+another man--no, there was something indelicate about it, at which his
+blood revolted. It was the kind of thing that it suited poets to make
+tragedies of, but it did not--should not--happen in sober, daily life.
+And if, as it seemed in this case, it was beyond mortal's power to
+prevent it, then the only fitting thing to do was promptly to make an
+end. And because, over the approach of this end, he suffered, he now
+called himself hard names. What had he expected? Had he really
+believed that matters could always dally on, in this pleasant,
+torturous way? Would he always have been content to be third party,
+and miserable outsider? No; the best that could happen to him was now
+happening; let the coming day once be past, let a very few weeks have
+run their course, and the parting would have lost its sting; he would
+be able to look back, regretfully no doubt, but as on something done
+with, irrecoverable. Then he would apply himself to his work with all
+his heart; and it would be possible to think of her, and remember her,
+calmly. If once an end were put to these daily chances of seeing her,
+which perpetually fanned his unrest, all would go well.
+
+And yet . . . did he close his eyes and let her face rise up before
+him--her sweet, white face, with the unfathomable eyes, and pale,
+sensuous mouth--he was shaken by an emotion that knocked his
+resolutions as flat as a breath knocks a house of cards. It was not
+love, nor anything to do with love, this he could have sworn to: it
+was merely the strange physical effect her presence, or the
+remembrance of her presence, had had upon him, from the first day on:
+a tightening of all centres, a heightening of all faculties, an
+intense hope, and as intense a despair. And in this moment, he
+confessed to himself that he would have been over-happy to live on
+just as he had been doing, if only sometimes he might see her. He
+needed her, as he had never felt the need of anyone before; his nature
+clamoured for her, imperiously, as it clamoured for light and air. He
+had no concern with anyone but her--her only--and he could not let her
+go. It was not love; it was a bodily weakness, a pitiable
+infirmity: he even felt it degrading that another person should be
+able to exercise such an influence over him, that there should be a
+part of himself over which he had no control. Not to see her, not to
+be able to gather fresh strength from each chance meeting, meant that
+the grip life had of him would relax--he grew sick even at the thought
+of how, in some unknown place, in the midst of strangers, she would go
+on living, and giving her hand and her smile to other people, while he
+would never see her again. And he said her name aloud to himself, as
+if he were in bodily pain, or as if the sound of it might somehow
+bring him aid: he inwardly implored whatever fate was above him to
+give him the one small chance he asked--the chance of fair play.
+
+The morning passed, without his knowing it. When, considerably after
+his usual dinner-hour, he was back in his room, he looked at familiar
+objects with unseeing eyes. He was not conscious of hunger, but going
+into the kitchen begged for a cup of the coffee that could be smelt
+brewing on Frau Krause's stove. When he had drunk this, a veil seemed
+to lift from his brain; he opened and read a letter from home, and was
+pricked by compunction at the thought that, except for a few scales
+run hastily that morning, he had done no work. But while he still
+stood, with his arm on the lid of the piano, an exclamation rose to
+his lips; and taking up his hat, he went down the stairs again, and
+out into the street. What was he thinking of? If he wished to see
+Louise once more, his place was under her windows, or in those streets
+she would be likely to pass through.
+
+He walked up and down before the house in the BRUDERSTRASSE, sometimes
+including a side street, in order to avoid making himself conspicuous;
+putting on a hurried air, if anyone looked curiously at him; lingering
+for a quarter of an hour on end, in the shadow of a neighbouring
+doorway. Gradually, yet too quickly, the grey afternoon wore to a
+close. He had paced to and fro for an hour now, but not a trace of her
+had he seen; nor did even a light burn in her room when darkness fell.
+A fear lest she should have already gone away, beset him again, and
+got the upper hand of him; and wild schemes flitted through his mind.
+He would mount the stairs, and ring the door-bell, on some pretext or
+other, to learn whether she was still there; and his foot was on the
+lowest stair, when his courage failed him, and he turned back. But the
+idea had taken root; he could not bear much longer the uncertainty he
+was in; and so, towards seven o'clock, when he had hung about
+for three hours, and there was still no sign of life in her room, he
+went boldly up the broad, winding stair and rang the bell. When the
+door was opened, he would find something to say.
+
+The bell, which he had pulled hard, pealed through the house, jangled
+on, and, in a series of after-tinkles, died away. There was no
+immediate answering sound; the silence persisted, and having waited
+for some time, he rang again. Then, in the distance, he heard a door
+creak; soft, cautious footsteps crept along the passage; a light
+moved; the glass window in the upper half of the door was opened, and
+a little old woman peered out, holding a candle above her head. On
+seeing the pale face close before her, she drew back, and made as if
+to shut the window; for, as a result of poring over newspapers, she
+lived in continual expectation of robbery and murder.
+
+"She is not at home," she said with tremulous bravado, in answer to
+the young man's question, and again was about to close the window. But
+Maurice thrust in his hand, and she could not shut without crushing it.
+
+"Then she is still here? Has she gone out? When will she be back?" he
+queried.
+
+"How should I know? And look here, young man, if you don't take away
+your hand and leave the house at once, I shall call from the window
+for a policeman."
+
+He went slowly down the stairs and across the street, and took up anew
+his position in the dark doorway--a proceeding which did not reassure
+Fraulein Grunhut, who, regarding his inquiries as a feint, was
+watching his movements from between the slats of a window-blind. But
+Maurice had not stood again for more than a quarter of an hour, when a
+feeling of nausea seized him, and this reminded him that he had
+practically eaten nothing since the morning. If he meant to hold out,
+he must snatch a bite of food somewhere; afterwards, he would return
+and wait, if he had to wait all night.
+
+In front of the PANORAMA on the ROSSPLATZ, he ran into the arms of
+Furst, and the latter, when he heard where Maurice was going, had
+nothing better to do than to accompany him, and drink a SCHNITT.
+Furst, who was in capital spirits at the prospect of the evening,
+laughed heartily, told witty anecdotes, and slapped his fat thigh, the
+type of rubicund good-humour; and as he was not of an observant turn
+of mind, he did not notice his companion's abstraction. Hardly
+troubling to dissemble, Maurice paid scant attention to Furst's talk;
+he ate avidly, and as soon as he had finished, pushed back his
+chair and called to the waiter for his bill.
+
+"I must go," he said, and rose. "I have something important to do this
+evening, and can't join you."
+
+Furst, cut short in the middle of a sentence, let his double chin fall
+on his collar, and gazed open-mouthed at his companion.
+
+"But I say, Guest, look here!. . ." Maurice heard him expostulate as
+the outer door slammed behind him.
+
+He made haste to retrace his steps. The wind had dropped; a fine rain
+was beginning to fall; it promised to be a wet night, of empty streets
+and glistening pavements. There was no visible change in the windows
+of the BRUDERSTRASSE; they were as blankly dark as before. Turning up
+his coat-collar, Maurice resumed his patrollings, but more languidly;
+he was drowsy from having eaten, and the air was chill. A weakness
+overcame him at the thought of the night-watch he had set himself; it
+seemed impossible to endure the crawling past of still more hours. He
+was tired to exhaustion, and a sudden, strong desire arose in him,
+somehow, anyhow, to be taken out of himself, to have his thoughts
+diverted into other channels. And this feeling grew upon him with such
+force, the idea of remaining where he was, for another hour, became so
+intolerable, that he forgot everything else, and turned and ran back
+towards the PANORAMA, only afraid lest Furst should have gone without him.
+
+The latter was, in fact, just coming out of the door. He stared in
+astonishment at Maurice.
+
+"I've changed my mind," said Maurice, without apology. "Shall we go?
+Where's the place?"
+
+Furst mumbled something inaudible; he was grumpy at the other's
+behaviour. Scanning him furtively, and noting his odd, excited manner,
+he concluded that Maurice had been drinking.
+
+They walked without speaking; Furst hummed to himself. In the
+thick-sown, business thoroughfare, the BRUHL, they entered a dingy
+cafe and while Furst chattered with the landlord and BUFFETDAME, with
+both of whom he was on very friendly terms, Maurice went into the
+side-room, where the KNEIPE was to be held, and sat down before a
+long, narrow table, spread with a soiled red and blue-checked
+tablecloth. He felt cold and sick again, and when the wan PICCOLO set
+a beer-mat before him, he sent the lad to the devil for a cognac. The
+waiter came with the liqueur-bottle; Maurice drank the contents
+of one and then another of the tiny glasses. A genial warmth
+ran through him and his nausea ceased. He leaned his head on his
+hands, closed his eyes, and, soothed by the heat of the room, had a
+few moments' pleasant lapse of consciousness.
+
+He was roused by the entrance of a noisy party of three. These were
+strangers to him, and when they had mentioned their names and learned
+his, they sat down at the other end of the table and talked among
+themselves. They were followed by a couple of men known to Maurice by
+sight. One, an Italian, a stout, animated man, with prominent
+jet-black eyes and huge white teeth, was a fellow-pupil of Schilsky's,
+and a violinist of repute, notwithstanding the size and fleshiness of
+his hands, which were out of all proportion to the delicate build of
+his instrument. The other was a slender youth of fantastic appearance.
+He wore a long, old-fashioned overcoat, which reached to his heels,
+and was moulded to a shapely waist; on his fingers were numerous
+rings; his bushy hair was scented and thickly curled, his face painted
+and pencilled like a woman's. He did not sit down, but, returning to
+the public room, leaned over the counter and talked to the BUFFETDAME,
+in a tone which had nothing in common with Furst's hearty familiarity.
+
+Next came a couple of Americans, loud, self-assertive, careless of
+dress and convention; close behind them still another group, and at
+its heels, Dove. The latter entered the room with an apologetic air,
+and on sitting down at the head of the table, next Maurice, mentioned
+at once that, at heart, he was not partial to this kind of thing, and
+was only there because he believed the present to be an exceptional
+occasion: who knew but what, in after years, he might not be proud to
+claim having, made one of the party on this particular evening?--the
+plain truth being that Schilsky was little popular with his own sex,
+and, in consequence of the difficulty of beating up a round dozen of
+men, Furst had been forced to be very pressing in his invitations, to
+have recourse to bribes and promises, or, as in the case of Dove, to
+stimulating the imagination. The majority of the guests present were
+not particular who paid for their drink, provided they got it.
+
+At Krafft's entry, a stifled laugh went round. To judge from his
+appearance, he had not been in bed the previous night: sleep seemed to
+hang on his red and sunken eyelids; his hands and face were
+dirty, and when he took off his coat, which he had worn turned up at
+the neck, it was seen that he had either lost or forgotten his collar.
+Shirt and waistcoat were insufficiently buttoned. His walk was steady,
+but his eyes had a glassy stare, and did not seem to see what they
+rested on. A strong odour of brandy went out from him; but he had not
+been many minutes in the room before a stronger and more penetrating
+smell made itself felt. The rest of the company began to sniff and
+ejaculate, and Furst, having tracked it to the corner where the
+overcoats hung, drew out of one of Krafft's pockets a greasy newspaper
+parcel, evidently some days old, containing bones, scraps of decaying
+meat, and rancid fish. The PICCOLO, summoned by a general shout, was
+bade to dispose of the garbage instantly, and to hang the coat in a
+draughty place to air. Various epithets were hurled at Krafft, who,
+however, sat picking his teeth with unconcern, as if what went on
+around him had nothing to do with him.
+
+They were now all collected but Schilsky, and much beer had been
+drunk. Furst was in his usual state of agitation lest his friend
+should forget to keep the appointment; and the spirits of those--there
+were several such present--who suffered almost physical pain from
+seeing another than themselves the centre of interest, went up by
+leaps and bounds. But at this juncture, Schilsky's voice was heard in
+the next room. It was raised and angry; it snarled at a waiter.
+Significant glances flew round the table: for the young man's
+outbursts of temper were well known to all. He entered, making no
+response to the greetings that were offered him, displaying his anger
+with genial indifference to what others thought of him. To the PICCOLO
+he tossed coat and hat, and swore at the boy for not catching them.
+Then he let his loose-limbed body down on the vacant chair, and drank
+off the glass of PILSENER that was set before him.
+
+There was a pause of embarrassment. The next moment, however, several
+men spoke at once: Furst continued a story he was telling, some one
+else capped it, and the mirth these anecdotes provoked was more than
+ordinarily uproarious. Schilsky sat silent, letting his sullen mouth
+hang, and tapping the table with his fingers. Meanwhile, he emptied
+one glass of beer after another. The PICCOLO could hardly cope with
+the demands that were made on him, and staggered about, top-heavy, with
+his load of glasses.
+
+But it was impossible to let the evening pass as flatly as
+this; besides, as the general hilarity increased, it made those
+present less sensitive to the mood of the guest of honour. Furst was a
+born speaker, and his heart was full. So, presently, he rose to his
+feet, struck his glass, and, in spite of Schilsky's deepening scowl,
+held a flowery speech about his departing friend. The only answer
+Schilsky gave was a muttered request to cease making an idiot of himself.
+
+This was going rather too far; but no one protested, except Ford, the
+pianist, who said in English: "Speesch? Call that a speesch?"
+
+Furst, inclined in the first moment of rebuff to be touchy, allowed his
+natural goodness of heart to prevail. He leaned forward, and said, not
+without pathos: "Old man, we are all your friends here. Something's
+the matter. Tell us what it is."
+
+Before Schilsky could reply, Krafft awakened from his apparent stupor to
+say with extreme distinctness: "I'll tell you. There's been the devil
+to pay."
+
+"Now, chuck it, Krafft!" cried one or two, not without alarm at the
+turn things might take.
+
+But Schilsky, whose anger had begun to subside under the influence of
+the two litres he had drunk, said slowly and thickly: "Let him be.
+What he says is the truth--gospel truth."
+
+"Oh, say, that's to' bad!" cried one of the Americans--a lean man, with
+the mouth and chin of a Methodist.
+
+All kept silence now, in the hope that Schilsky would continue. As he
+did not, but sat brooding, Furst, in his role of peacemaker, clapped
+him on the back. "Well, forget it for to-night, old man! What does it
+matter? To-morrow you'll be miles away."
+
+This struck a reminiscence in Ford, who forthwith tried to sing:
+
+
+I'm off by the morning train,
+Across the raging main----
+
+
+"That's easily said!" Schilsky threw a dark look round the table. "By
+those who haven't been through it. I have. And I'd rather have lost a
+hand."
+
+Krafft laughed--that is to say, a cackle of laughter issued from his
+mouth, while his glazed eyes stared idiotically. "He shall tell us
+about it. Waiter, a round of SCHNAPS!"
+
+"Shut up, Krafft!" said Furst uneasily.
+
+"Damn you, Heinz!" cried Schilsky, striking the table. He
+swallowed his brandy at a gulp, and held out the glass to be refilled.
+His anger fell still more; he began to commiserate himself. "By Hell,
+I wish a plague would sweep every woman off the earth!"
+
+"The deuce, why don't you keep clear of them?"
+
+Schilsky laughed, without raising his heavy eyes. "If they'd only give
+one the chance. Damn them all!--old and young----I say. If it weren't
+for them, a man could lead a quiet life."
+
+"It'll all come out in the wash," consoled the American.
+
+Maurice heard everything that passed, distinctly; but the words seemed
+to be bandied at an immeasurable distance from him. He remained quite
+undisturbed, and would have felt like a god looking on at the doings
+of an infinitesimal world, had it not been for a wheel which revolved
+in his head, and hindered him from thinking connectedly. So far,
+drinking had brought him no pleasure; and he had sense enough to find
+the proximity of Ford disagreeable; for the latter spilt half the
+liquor he tried to swallow over himself, and half over his neighbour.
+
+A fresh imprecation of Schilsky's called forth more laughter. On its
+subsidence, Krafft awoke to his surroundings again. "What has the old
+woman given you?" he asked, with his strange precision of speech and
+his drunken eyes.
+
+Schilsky struck the table with his fist. "Look at him!--shamming
+drunk, the bitch!" he cried.
+
+"Never mind him; he don't count. How much did she give you?"
+
+"Oh, gee, go on!"
+
+But Schilsky, turned sullen again, refused to answer.
+
+"Out with it then, Krafft!--you know, you scoundrel, you!"
+
+Krafft put his hand to the side of his mouth. "She gave him three
+thousand marks."
+
+On all sides the exclamations flew.
+
+"Oh, gee-henna!"
+
+"Golly for her!"
+
+"DREI TAUSEND MARK!--ALLE EHRE!"
+
+Again Krafft leaned forward with a maudlin laugh.
+
+"JAWOHL--but on what condition?"
+
+"Heinz, you ferret out things like a pig's snout," said Furst with an
+exaggerated, tipsy disgust.
+
+"What, the old louse made conditions, did she?"
+
+"Is she jealous?"
+
+There was another roar at this. Schilsky looked as black as
+thunder.
+
+Again Furst strove to intercede. "Jealous?--in seven devils' name, why
+jealous? The old scarecrow! She hasn't an ounce of flesh to her bones."
+
+Schilsky laughed. "Much you know about it, you fool! Flesh or no
+flesh, she's as troublesome as the plumpest. I wouldn't go through the
+last month again for all you could offer me. Month?--no, nor the last
+six months either! It's been a hell of a life. Three of 'em, whole
+damned three, at my heels, and each ready to tear the others' eyes
+out."
+
+"Three! Hullo!"
+
+"Three? Bah!--what's three?" sneered the painted youth.
+
+Schilsky turned on him. "What's three? Go and try it, if you want to
+know, you pap-sodden suckling! Three, I said, and they've ended by
+making the place too hot to hold me. But I'm done now. No more for
+me!--if my name's what it is."
+
+Having once broken through his reserve, he talked on, with heated
+fluency; and the longer he spoke, the more he was carried away by his
+grievances. For, all he had asked for, he assured his hearers, had
+been peace and quiet--the peace necessary to important work. "Jesus and
+Mary! Are a fellow's chief obligations not his obligations to
+himself?" At the same time, it was not his intention to put any of the
+blame on Lulu's shoulders: she couldn't help herself. "Lulu is Lulu.
+I'm damned fond of Lulu, boys, and I've always done my best by her--is
+there anyone here who wants to say I haven't?"
+
+There was none; a chorus of sympathetic ayes went up from the party
+that was drinking at his expense.
+
+Mollified, he proceeded, asserting vehemently that he would have gone
+miles out of his. way to avoid causing Lulu pain. "I'm a soft-hearted
+fool--I admit it!--where a woman is concerned." But he had yielded to
+her often enough--too often--as it was; the time had come for him to
+make a stand. Let those present remember what he had sacrificed only
+that summer for Lulu's sake. Would anyone else have done as much for
+his girl? He made bold to doubt it. For a man like Zeppelin to come to
+him, and to declare, with tears in his eyes, that he could teach him
+no more--could he afford to treat a matter like that with indifference?
+Had he really been free to make a choice?
+
+Again he looked round the table with emphasis, and those who
+had their muscles sufficiently under control, hastened to lay their
+faces in seemly folds.
+
+Then, however, Schilsky's mood changed; he struck the table so that
+the glasses danced. "And shall I tell you what my reward has been for
+not going? Do you want to know how Lulu has treated me for staying on
+here? 'You are a quarter of an hour late: where have you been? You've
+only written two bars since I saw you this morning: what have you been
+doing? A letter has come in a strange writing: who is it from? You've
+put on another tie: who have you been to see?' HIMMELSAKRAMENT!" He
+drained his glass. "I've had the life of a dog, I tell you--of a dog!
+There's not been a moment in the day when she hasn't spied on me, and
+followed me, and made me ridiculous. Over every trifle she has got up
+a fresh scene. She's even gone so far as to come to my room and search
+my pockets, when she knew I wasn't at home."
+
+"Yes, yes," sneered Krafft. "Exactly! And so, gentlemen he was now for
+slinking off without a word to her."
+
+"Oh, PFUI!" spat the American.
+
+"Call him a liar!" said a voice.
+
+"Liar?" repeated Schilsky dramatically. "Why liar? I don't deny it. I
+would have done it gladly if I could--isn't that just what I've been
+saying? Lulu would have got over it all the quicker alone. And then,
+why shouldn't I confess it? You're all my friends here." He dropped
+his voice. "I'm afraid of Lulu, boys. I was afraid she'd get round me,
+and then my chance was gone. She might have shot me, but she wouldn't
+have let me go. You never know how a woman of that type'll break
+out--never!"
+
+"But she didn't!" said Krafft. "You live."
+
+Schilsky understood him.
+
+"Some brute," he cried savagely, "some dirty brute had nothing better
+to do than to tell her."
+
+"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed the painted boy.
+
+Furst blew his nose. "It wasn't me. I was mum. 'Pon my honour, I was."
+
+"My God!" said Schilsky, and fell to remembering it. "What a time I've
+been through with her this afternoon!" He threatened to be overcome by
+the recollection, and supported his head on his hands. "A woman has no
+gratitude," he murmured, and drew his handkerchief from his pocket.
+"It is a weak, childish sex--with no inkling of higher things."
+Here, however, he suddenly drew himself up. "Life is very hard!" he
+cried, in a loud voice. "The perpetual struggle between duty and
+inclination for a man of genius . . . !"
+
+He grew franker, and gave gratuitous details of the scene that had
+taken place in his room that afternoon. Most of those present were in
+ecstasies at this divulging of his private life, which went forward to
+the accompaniment of snores from Ford, and the voice of Dove, who,
+with portentous gravity, sang over and over again, the first strophe
+of THE LAST ROSE OF SUMMER.
+
+"A fury!" said Schilsky. "A . . . a what do you call it ?--a . . . Meg
+. . . a Meg--" He gave it up and went on: "By God, but Lulu knows how!
+Keep clear of her nails, boys--I'd advise you!" At this point, he
+pulled back his collar, and exhibited a long, dark scratch on the side
+of his neck. "A little remembrance she gave me to take away with me!"
+While he displayed it, he seemed to be rather proud of it; but
+immediately afterwards, his mood veered round again to one of bitter
+resentment. To illustrate the injustice she had been guilty of, and
+his own long-suffering, he related, at length, the story of his
+flirtation with Ephie, and the infinite pains he had been at to keep
+Louise in ignorance of what was happening. He grew very tender with
+himself as he told it. For, according to him, the whole affair had
+come about without any assistance of his. "What the deuce was I to do?
+Chucked herself full at my head, did the little one. No invitation
+necessary--a ripe plum, boys! Touch the plum--and off it tumbles! As
+pretty a little thing, too, as ever was made! Had everything arranged
+by the second meeting. Papa to set us up; house in New York; money IN
+HULLE UND FULLE!"
+
+At the mention of New York, the lean American looked grave. "Look
+here, you, don't think you're the whole shoot because you've got a
+wave in your hair!" he murmured in English.
+
+But Schilsky did not hear him; his voice droned on, giving the full
+particulars of this particular case. He grew momentarily opener.
+
+"One no sooner out of the door than the other was in," he asserted,
+and laughed long to himself.
+
+For some time past, Maurice had been possessed by the idea that what
+was happening concerned him very nearly, and that he ought to
+interfere and put his foot down. His hands had grown cold, and
+he sat vainly trying to speak: nothing, however, came, but little
+drunken gulps and hiccups. But the first mention of Ephie's name
+seemed to put new strength into him; he made a violent effort, and
+rose to his feet, holding on to the table with both hands. He could
+not, however, manage to attract attention; no one took any notice of
+him; and besides this, he had himself no notion what it was that he
+really wanted to say.
+
+"And drowns his sorrows in the convivial glass!" he suddenly shouted
+in English, at the top of his voice, which he had found. He had a
+vague belief that he was quoting a well-known line of poetry, and,
+though he did not in the least understand how it applied to the
+situation, he continued to repeat it, with varying shades of fervour,
+till some one called out: "Oh, stop your blasted rot!"
+
+He laughed hoarsely at this, could not check himself, and was so
+exhausted when he had finished that it took him some time to remember
+why he was on his feet. Schilsky was still relating: his face was
+darkly red, his voice husky, and he flapped his arms with meaningless
+gestures. A passionate rebellion, a kind of primitive hatred, gripped
+Maurice, and when Schilsky paused for breath, he could contain himself
+no longer. He felt the burning need of contradicting the speaker, even
+though he could not catch the drift of what was said.
+
+"It's a lie!" he cried fiercely, with such emphasis that every face
+was turned to him. "A damned lie!"
+
+"A lie? What the devil do you mean?" responded not one but many
+voices--the whole table seemed to be asking him, with the exception of
+Dove, who sang on in an ever decreasing tempo.
+
+"Get out!--Let him alone; he's drunk. He doesn't know what he's
+saying--He's got rats in his head!" he heard voices asserting.
+Forthwith he began a lengthy defence of himself, broken only by gaps
+in which his brain refused to work. Conscious that no one was
+listening to him, he bawled more and more loudly.
+
+"Oh, quit it, you double-barrelled ass!" said the American.
+
+Schilsky, persuaded by those next him to let the incident pass
+unnoticed, contented himself with a: "VERFLUCHTE SCHWEINEREI!" spat,
+after Furst's gurgled account of Maurice's previous insobriety, across
+the floor behind him, to express his contempt, and proceeded as
+dominatingly as before with the narration of his love-affairs.
+
+The blood rushed to Maurice's head at the sound of this voice
+which he could neither curb nor understand. Rage mastered him--a
+vehement desire to be quits. He kicked back his chair, and rocked to
+and fro.
+
+"It's a lie--a dirty lie!" he cried. "You make her unhappy--God, how
+unhappy you make her! You illtreat her. You've never given her a day's
+happiness. S . . . said so . . . herself. I heard her . . . I
+swear . . . I----"
+
+His voice turned to a whine; his words came thick and incoherent.
+
+Schilsky sprang to his feet and aimed the contents of a half-emptied
+glass at Maurice's face. "Take that, you blasted spy!--you Englishman!"
+he spluttered. "I'll teach you to mix your dirty self in my affairs!"
+
+Every one jumped up; there was noise and confusion; simultaneously two
+waiters entered the room, as if they had not been unprepared for
+something of this kind. Furst and another man restrained Schilsky by
+the arms, reasoning with him with more force than coherence. Maurice,
+the beer dripping from chin, collar and shirt-front, struggled
+furiously with some one who held him back.
+
+"Let me get at him--let me get at him!" he cried. "I'll teach him to
+treat a woman as he does. The sneak--the cur--the filthy cad! He's not fit
+to touch her hand--her beautiful hand--her beau . . . ti . . . ful----"
+Here, overpowered by his feelings, as much as by superior strength, he
+sank on a chair and wept.
+
+"I'll break his bones!" raved Schilsky. "What the hell does he mean by
+it?--the INFAME SCHUFT, the AAS, the dirty ENGLANDER! Thinks he'll
+sneak after her himself, does he?--What in Jesus' name is it to him how
+I treat her? I'll take a stick to her if I like--it's none of his
+blasted business! Look here, do you see that?" He freed one hand,
+fumbled in his pocket, and, almost inarticulate with rage and liquor,
+brandished a key across the table. "Do you see that? That's a key,
+isn't it, you drunken hog? Well, with that key, I can let myself into
+Lulu's room at any hour I want to; I can go there now, this very
+minute, if I like--do you think she'll turn me out, you infernal spy?
+Turn me out?--she'd go down on her knees here before you all to get me
+back to her!"
+
+Unwilling to be involved in the brawl, the more sober of the party had
+begun to seek out their hats and to slink away. A little group round
+Schilsky blarneyed and expostulated. Why should the whole
+sport of the evening be spoilt in this fashion? What did it matter
+what the damned cranky Englishman said? Let him be left to his
+swilling. They would clear out, and wind up the night at the BAUER;
+and at four, when that shut, they would go on to the BAYRISCHE
+BAHNHOF, where they could not only get coffee, but could also see
+Schilsky off by a train soon after five. These persuasions prevailed,
+and, still swearing, and threatening, and promising, by all that was
+holy, to bring Lulu there, by the hair of her head if necessary, to
+show whether or no he had the power over her he boasted of, Schilsky
+finally allowed himself to be dragged off, and those who were left
+lurched out in his wake.
+
+With their exit an abrupt silence fell, and Maurice sank into a heavy
+sleep, in which he saw flowery meadows and heard a gently trickling
+brook. . . .
+
+"Now then, up with you!--get along!" some one was shouting in his ear,
+and, bit by bit, a pasty-faced waiter entered his field of view. "It's
+past time, anyhow," and yawning loudly, the waiter turned out all the
+gas-jets but one. "Don't yer hear? Up with you! You'll have to look
+after the other--now, damn me, if there isn't another of you as well!"
+and, from under the table, he drew out a recumbent body.
+
+Maurice then saw that he was still in the company of Dove, who sat
+staring into space--like a dead man. Krafft, propped on a chair, hung
+his head far back, and the collarless shirt exposed the whole of his
+white throat.
+
+The waiter hustled them about. Maurice was comparatively steady on his
+legs; and it was found that Dove could walk. But over Krafft, the man
+scratched his head and called a comrade. At the mention of a droschke,
+however, Maurice all but wept anew with ire and emotion: this was his
+dearest friend, the friend of his bosom; he was ready at any time to
+stake his life for him, and now he was not to be allowed even to see
+him home.
+
+A difficulty arose about Maurice's hat: he was convinced that the one
+the waiter jammed so rudely on his head did not belong to him; and it
+seemed as if nothing in the world had ever mattered so much to him as
+now getting back his own hat. But he had not sufficient fluency to
+explain all he meant; before he had finished, the man lost patience;
+and suddenly, without any transition, the three of them were in the
+street. The raw night air gave them a shock; they gasped and choked a
+little. Then the wall of a house rose appositely and met them.
+They leaned against it, and Maurice threw the hat from him and
+trampled on it, chuckling at the idea that he was revenging himself on
+the waiter.
+
+It was a journey of difficulties; not only was he unclear what
+locality they were in, but innumerable lifeless things confronted them
+and formed obstacles to their progress; they had to charge an
+advertisement-column two or three times before they could get round
+it. Maurice grew excessively angry, especially with Dove. For while
+Heinz let himself be lugged this way and that, Dove, grown loud and
+wilful, had ideas of his own, and, in addition to this, sang the whole
+time with drunken gravity:
+
+
+Sez the ragman, to the bagman,
+I'll do yees no harm.
+
+
+"Stop it, you oaf!" cried Maurice, goaded to desperation. "You
+beastly, blathering, drunken idiot!"
+
+Then, for a street-length, he himself lapsed into semi-consciousness,
+and when he wakened, Dove was gone. He chuckled anew at the thought
+that somehow or other they had managed to outwit him.
+
+His intention had been to make for home, but the door before which
+they ultimately found themselves was Krafft's. Maurice propped his
+companion against the wall, and searched his own pockets for a key.
+When he had found one, he could not find the door, and when this was
+secured, the key would not fit. The perspiration stood out on his
+forehead; he tried again and again, thought the keyhole was dodging
+him, and asserted the fact so violently that a window in the first
+storey was opened and a head thrust out.
+
+"What in the name of Heaven are you doing down there?" it cried. "You
+drunken SCHWEIN, can't you see the door's open?"
+
+In the sitting-room, both fell heavily over a chair; after that, with
+infinite labour, he got Heinz on the sofa. He did not attempt to make
+a light; enough came in from a street-lamp for him to see what he was
+doing.
+
+Lying on his face, Krafft groaned a little, and Maurice suddenly
+grasped that he was taken ill. Heinz was ill, Heinz, his best friend,
+and he was doing nothing to help him! Shedding tears, he poured out a
+glass of water. He believed he was putting the carafe safely back on
+the table, but it dropped with a crash to the floor. He was
+afraid Frau Schulz would come in, and said in a loud voice: "It's that
+fellow there, he's dead drunk, beastly drunk!" Krafft would not drink
+the water, and in the attempt to force him, it was spilled over him.
+He stirred uneasily, put up his arms and dragged Maurice down, so that
+the latter fell on his knees beside the sofa. He made a few
+ineffectual efforts to free himself; but one arm held him like a vice;
+and in this uncomfortable position, he went to sleep.
+
+
+
+
+
+Part II
+
+
+
+
+O viva morte, e dilettoso male!
+
+PETRARCH.
+
+
+I.
+
+
+
+The following morning, towards twelve o'clock, a note from Madeleine
+was handed to Maurice. In it, she begged him to account to Schwarz for
+her absence from the rehearsal of a trio, which was to have taken
+place at two.
+
+GO AND EXPLAIN THAT IT IS QUITE IMPOSSIBLE FOR ME TO COME, she wrote.
+LOUISE IS VERY ILL; THE DOCTOR IS AFRAID OF BRAIN FEVER. I AM RUSHING,
+OFF THIS MOMENT TO SEE ABOUT A NURSE--AND SHALL STAY TILL ONE COMES.
+
+He read the words mechanically, without taking in their meaning. From
+the paper, his eyes roved round the room; he saw the tumbled, unopened
+bed, from which he had just risen, the traces of his boots on the
+coverings. He could not remember how he had come there; his last
+recollection was of being turned out of Krafft's room, in what seemed
+to be still the middle of the night. Since getting home, he must have
+slept a dead sleep.
+
+"Ill? Brain fever?" he repeated to himself, and his mind strove to
+pierce the significance of the words. What had happened? Why should
+she be ill? A racking uneasiness seized him and would not let him
+rest. His inclination was to lay his aching head on the pillow again;
+but this was out of the question; and so, though he seldom braved Frau
+Krause, he now boldly went to her with a request to warm up his
+coffee.
+
+When he had drunk it, and bathed his head, he felt considerably
+better. But he still could not call to mind what had occurred. The
+previous evening was blurred in its details; he only had a sense of
+oppression when he thought of it, as of something that had threatened,
+and still did. He was glad to have a definite task before him, and
+went out at once, in order to catch Schwarz before he left the
+Conservatorium; but it was too late; the master's door was locked. It
+was a bright, cold day with strong sunlight; Maurice's eyes ached, and
+he shrank from the wind at every corner. Instead of going home, he
+went to Madeleine's room and sat down to wait for her. She had
+evidently been away since early morning; the piano was dusty and
+unopened; the blind at the head of it had not been drawn up. It was a
+pleasant dusk; he put his arms on the table, his head on his arms,
+and, in spite of his anxiety, fell into a sound sleep.
+
+He was wakened by Madeleine's entrance. It was three o'clock. She came
+bustling in, took off her hat, laid it on the piano, and at once drew
+up the blind. She was not surprised. to find him there, but exclaimed
+at his appearance.
+
+"Good gracious, Maurice, how dreadful you look! Are you ill?"
+
+He hastened to reassure her, and she was a little put out at her
+wasted sympathy.
+
+"Well, no wonder, I'm sure, after the doings there were last night. A
+pretty way to behave! And that you should have mixed yourself up in it
+as you did!--I wouldn't have believed it of you. How I know? My dear
+boy, it's the talk of the place."
+
+Her words called up to him a more lucid remembrance of the past
+evening than he had yet been capable of. In his eagerness to recollect
+everything, he changed colour and looked away. Madeleine put his
+confusion down to another cause.
+
+"Never mind, it's over now, and we won't say any more about it. Sit
+still, and I'll make you some tea. That will do your head good--for you
+have a splitting headache, haven't you? I shall be glad of some
+myself, too, after all the running about I've had this morning. I'm
+quite worn out."
+
+When she heard that he had had no dinner, she sent for bread and
+sausage, and was so busy and unsettled that only when she sat down,
+with her cup before her, did he get a chance to say: "What is it,
+Madeleine? Is she very ill?"
+
+Madeleine shrugged her shoulders. "Yes, she is ill enough. It's not
+easy to say what the matter is, though. The doctor is to see her again
+this evening. And I found a nurse."
+
+"Then she is not going away?" He did not mean to say the words aloud;
+they escaped him against his will.
+
+His companion raised her eyebrows, filling her forehead with wrinkles.
+"Going away?" she echoed. "I should say not. My dear Maurice, what is
+more, it turns out she hadn't an idea he was going either. What do you
+say to that?" She flushed with sincere indignation. "Not an idea--until
+yesterday. My lord had the intention of sneaking off without a word,
+and of leaving her to find it out for herself. Oh, it's an
+abominable affair altogether!--and has been from beginning to end.
+There's much about Louise, as you know, that I don't approve of, and I
+think she has behaved weakly--not to call it by a harder name--all
+through. But now, she has my entire sympathy. The poor girl is in a
+pitiable state."
+
+"Is she . . . dangerously ill?"
+
+"Well, I don't think she'll die of it, exactly--though it might be
+better for her if she did. NA!. . . let me fill up your cup. And eat
+something more. Oh, he is . . . no words are bad enough for him;
+though honestly speaking, I think we might have been prepared for
+something of this kind, all along. It seems he made his arrangements
+for going on the quiet. Frau Schaefele advanced him the money; for of
+course he has nothing of his own. But what condition do you think the
+old wretch made? That he should break with Louise. Furst has told me
+all about it. I went to him at once this morning. She was always
+jealous of Louise--though to him she only talked of the holiness of art
+and the artist's calling, and the danger of letting domestic ties
+entangle you, and rubbish of that kind. I believe she was at the
+bottom of it that he didn't marry Louise long ago. Well, however that
+may be, he now let himself be persuaded easily enough. He was hearing
+on all sides that he had been here too long; and candidly, I think he
+was beginning to feel Louise a drag on him. I know of late they were
+not getting on well together. But to be such a coward and a weakling!
+To slink off in this fashion! Of course, when it came to the last, he
+was simply afraid of her, and of the scene she would make him. Bravery
+has as little room in his soul as honesty or manliness. He would
+always prefer a back-door exit. Such things excite a man, don't you
+know?--and ruffle the necessary artistic composure." She laughed
+scornfully. "However, I'm glad to say, he didn't escape scot-free
+after all. Everything went well till yesterday afternoon, when Louise,
+who was as unsuspecting as a child, heard of it from some one--they say
+it was Krafft. Without thinking twice--you know her . . . or rather you
+don't--she went straight to Schilsky and confronted him. I can't tell
+you what took place between them, but I can imagine something of it,
+for when Louise lets herself go, she knows no bounds, and this was a
+matter of life and death to her."
+
+Madeleine rose, blew out the flame of the spirit-lamp, and refilled
+the teapot.
+
+"Fraulein Grunhut, her landlady, heard her go out yesterday
+afternoon, but didn't hear her come in, so it must have been late in
+the evening. Louise hates to be pried on, and the old woman is lazy,
+so she didn't go to her room till about half-past eight this morning,
+when she took in the hot water. Then she found Louise stretched on the
+floor, just as she had come in last night, her hat lying beside her.
+She was conscious, and her eyes were open, but she was stiff and cold,
+and wouldn't speak or move. Grunhut couldn't do anything with her, and
+was mortally afraid. She sent for me; and between us we got her to
+bed, and I went for a doctor. That was at nine, and I have been on my
+feet ever since."
+
+"It's awfully good of you."
+
+"No, she won't die," continued Madeleine meditatively, stirring her
+tea. "She's too robust a nature for that. But I shouldn't wonder if it
+affected her mind. As I say, she knows no bounds, and has never learnt
+self-restraint. It has always been all or nothing with her. And this I
+must say: however foolish and wrong the whole thing was, she was
+devoted to Schilsky, and sacrificed everything--work, money and
+friends--to her infatuation. She lived only for him, and this is a
+moral judgment on her. Excess of any kind brings its own punishment
+with it."
+
+She rose and smoothed her hair before the mirror.
+
+"And now I really must get to work, and make up for the lost morning.
+I haven't touched a note to-day. As for you, Maurice, if you take my
+advice, you'll go home and go to bed. A good sleep is what you're
+needing. Come to-morrow, if you like, for further news. I shall go
+back after supper, and hear what the doctor says. Good-bye."
+
+"Good-bye, Madeleine. You're a brick."
+
+Having returned to his room, he lay face downwards on the sofa. He was
+sick at heart. Viewed in the light of the story he had heard from
+Madeleine, life seemed too unjust to be endured. It propounded riddles
+no one could answer; the vast output of energy that composed it, was
+misdirected; on every side was cruelty and suffering. Only the
+heartless and selfish--those who deserved to suffer--went free.
+
+He pressed the back of his hand to his tired eyes; and, despite her
+good deeds, he felt a sudden antipathy to Madeleine, who, on a day
+like this, could take up her ordinary occupation.
+
+In the morning, on awakening from a heavy sleep, he was seized by a
+fear lest Louise should have died in the night. Through
+brooding on it, the fear became a certainty, and he went early to
+Madeleine, making a detour through the BRUDERSTRASSE, where his
+suspicions were confirmed by the lowered blinds. He had almost two
+hours to wait; it was eleven o'clock before Madeleine returned. Her
+face was so grave that his heart seemed to stop beating. But there was
+no change in the sick girl's condition; the doctor was perplexed, and
+spoke of a consultation. Madeleine was returning at two o'clock to
+relieve the nurse.
+
+"You are foolishly letting it upset you altogether," she reproved
+Maurice. "And it won't mend matters in the least. Go home and settle
+down to work, like a sensible fellow."
+
+He tried to follow Madeleine's advice. But it was of no use; when he
+had struggled on for half an hour, he sprang up, realising how
+monstrous it was that he should be sitting there, drilling his
+fingers, getting the right notes of a turn, the specific shade of a
+crescendo, when, not very far away, Louise perhaps lay dying. Again he
+felt keenly the contrariness of life; and all the labour which those
+around him were expending on the cult of hand and voice and car,
+seemed of a ludicrous vanity compared with the grim little tragedy
+that touched him so nearly; and in this mood he remained, throughout
+the days of suspense that now ensued.
+
+He went regularly every afternoon to Madeleine, and, if she were not
+at home, waited till she returned, an hour, two hours, as the case
+might be. This was the vital moment of the day--when he read her
+tidings from her face.
+
+At first they were always the same: there was no change. Fever did not
+set in, but, day and night, Louise lay with wide, strained eyes; she
+refused nourishment, and the strongest sleeping-draught had no effect.
+Then, early one morning, for some trifling cause which, afterwards, no
+one could recall, she broke into a convulsive fit of weeping, went on
+till she was exhausted, and subsequently fell asleep.
+
+On the day Maurice learnt that she was out of danger, he walked deep
+into the woods. The news had lifted such a load from his mind that he
+felt almost happy. But before he reached home again, his brain had
+begun to work at matters which, during the period of anxiety, it had
+left untouched. At first, in desperation, he had been selfless enough
+to hope that Schilsky would return, on learning what had happened.
+Now, however, that he had not done so, and Louise had passed safely
+through the ordeal, Maurice was ready to tremble lest anything
+should occur to soil the robe of saintly suffering, in which he draped
+her.
+
+He began to take up the steady routine of his life again. Furst
+received him with open arms, and no allusion was made to the night in
+the BRUHL. With the cessation of his anxiety, a feeling of benevolence
+towards other people awakened in him, and when, one afternoon, Schwarz
+asked the assembled class if no one knew what had become of Krafft,
+whether he was ill, or anything of the kind, it was Maurice who
+volunteered to find out. He remembered now that he had not seen Krafft
+at the Conservatorium for a week or more.
+
+Frau Schulz looked astonished to see him, and, holding the door in her
+hand, made no mien to let him enter. Herr Krafft was away, she said
+gruffly, had been gone for about a week, she did not know where or
+why. He had left suddenly one morning, without her knowledge, and the
+following day a postcard had come from him, stating that all his
+things were to lie untouched till his return.
+
+"He was so queer lately that I'd he just as pleased if he stayed away
+altogether," she said. "That's all I can tell you. Maybe you'd get
+something more out of her. She knows more than she says, anyhow," and
+she pointed with her thumb at the door of the adjoining PENSION.
+
+Maurice rang there, and a dirty maid-servant showed him Avery's room.
+At his knock, she opened the door herself, and first looked surprised,
+then alarmed at seeing him.
+
+"What's the matter? Has anything happened?" she stammered, like one on
+the look-out for bad news.
+
+"Then what do you want?" she asked in her short, unpleasant way, when
+he had reassured her.
+
+"I came up to see Heinz. And they tell me he is not here; and Frau
+Schulz sent me to you. Schwarz was asking for him. Is it true that he
+has gone away?"
+
+"Yes, it's true."
+
+"Where to? Will he be away long?"
+
+"How should I know?" she cried rudely. "Am I his keeper? Find out for
+yourself, if you must know," and the door slammed to in his face.
+
+He mentioned the incident to Madeleine that evening. She looked
+strangely at him, he thought, and abruptly changed the subject. A day
+or two later, on the strength of a rumour that reached his ears, he
+tackled Furst, and the latter, who, up to this time, had been of a
+praiseworthy reticence, let fall a hint which made Maurice
+look blank with amazement. Nevertheless, he could not now avoid seeing
+certain incidents in his friendship with Krafft, under a different
+aspect.
+
+About a fortnight had elapsed since the beginning of Louise's illness;
+she was still obliged to keep her bed. More than once, of late,
+Madeleine had returned from her daily visit, decidedly out of temper.
+
+"Louise rubs me up the wrong way," she complained to Maurice. "And she
+isn't in the least grateful for all I've done for her. I really think
+she prefers having the nurse about her to me."
+
+"Sick people often have such fancies," he consoled her.
+
+"Louise shows hers a little too plainly. Besides, we have never got on
+well for long together."
+
+But one afternoon, on coming in, she unpinned her hat and threw it on
+the piano, with a decisive haste that was characteristic of her in
+anger.
+
+"That's the end; I don't go back again. I'm not paid for my services,
+and am under no obligation to listen to such things as Louise said to
+me to-day. Enough is enough. She is well on the mend, and must get on
+now as best she can. I wash my hands of the whole affair."
+
+"But you're surely not going to take what a sick person says
+seriously?" Maurice exclaimed in dismay. "How can she possibly get on
+with only those strangers about her?"
+
+"She's not so ill now. She'll be all right," answered Madeleine; she
+had opened a letter that was on the table, and did not look up as she
+spoke. "There's a limit to everything--even to my patience with her
+rudeness."
+
+And on returning the following day, he found, sure enough, that, true
+to her word, Madeleine had not gone back. She maintained an obstinate
+silence about what had happened, and requested that he would now let
+the matter drop.
+
+The truth was that Madeleine's conscience was by no means easy.
+
+She had gone to see Louise on that particular afternoon, with even
+more inconvenience to herself than usual. On admitting her, Fraulein
+Grunhut had endeavoured to detain her in the passage, mumbling and
+gesticulating in the mystery-mongering way with which Madeleine had no
+patience. It incited her to answer the old woman in a loud, clear
+voice; then, brusquely putting her aside, she opened the door of the
+sick girl's room.
+
+As she did so, she utttered an exclamation of surprise.
+Louise, in a flannel dressing-gown, was standing at the high tiled
+stove behind the door. Both her arms were upraised and held to it, and
+she leant her forehead against the tiles.
+
+"Good Heavens, what are you doing out of bed?" cried Madeleine; and,
+as she looked round the room: "And where is Sister Martha?"
+
+Louise moved her head, so that another spot of forehead came in
+contact with the tiles, and looked up at Madeleine from under her
+heavy lids, without replying.
+
+Madeleine laid one by one on the table some small purchases she had
+made on the way there.
+
+"Well, are you not going to speak to me to-day?" she said in a
+pleasant voice, as she unbuttoned her jacket. "Or tell me what I ask
+about the Sister?" There was not a shade of umbrage in her tone.
+
+Louise moved her head again, and looked away from Madeleine to the
+wall of the room. "I have got up," she answered, in such a low voice
+that Madeleine had to pause in what she was doing, to hear her;
+"because I could not bear to lie in bed any longer. And I've sent the
+Sister away--because . . . oh, because I couldn't endure having her
+about me."
+
+"You have sent Sister Martha away?" echoed Madeleine. "On your own
+responsibility? Louise!--how absurd! Well, I suppose I must put on my
+hat again and fetch her back. How can you get on alone, I should like
+to know? Really, I have no time to come oftener than I do."
+
+"I'm quite well now. I don't need anyone."
+
+"Come, get back into bed, like a good girl, and I will make you some
+tea," said Madeleine, in the gently superior tone that one uses to a
+sick person, to a young child, to anyone with whom it is not fitting
+to dispute.
+
+Instead, Louise left the stove, and sat down in a low American
+rocking-chair, where she crouched despondently.
+
+"I wish I had died," she said in a toneless voice.
+
+Madeleine smiled with exaggerated cheerfulness, and rattled the
+tea-cups. "Nonsense! You mustn't talk about dying--now that you are
+nearly well again. Besides, you know, such things are easily said. One
+doesn't mean them."
+
+"I wish I had died. Why didn't you let me die?" repeated Louise in the
+same apathetic way.
+
+Madeleine did not reply; she was cogitating whether it would be more
+convenient to go after the nurse at once, and what she ought
+to do if she could not get her to come back. For Louise would
+certainly have despatched her in tragedy-fashion.
+
+Meanwhile the latter had laid her arms along the low arms of the
+chair, and now sat gazing from one to the other of her hands. In their
+way, these hands of hers had acquired a kind of fame, which she had
+once been vain of. They had been photographed; a sculptor had
+modelled them for a statue of Antigone--long, slim and strong, with
+closely knit fingers, and pale, deep-set nails: hands like those of an
+adoring Virgin; hands which had an eloquent language all their own,
+but little or no agility, and which were out of place on the keys of a
+piano. Louise sat looking at them, and her face was so changed--the
+hollow setting of the eyes reminded perpetually of the bones beneath;
+the lines were hammered black below the eyes; nostrils and lips were
+pinched and thinned--that Madeleine, secretly observing her, remarked
+to herself that Louise looked at least ten years older than before.
+Her youth, and, with it, such freshness as she had once had, were gone
+from her.
+
+"Here is your tea."
+
+The girl drank it slowly, as if swallowing were an effort, while
+Madeleine went round the room, touching and ordering, and opening a
+window. This done, she looked at her watch.
+
+"I will go now," she said, "and see if I can persuade Sister Martha to
+come back. If you haven't mortally offended her, that is."
+
+Louise started up from her chair, and put her cup, only half emptied,
+on the table.
+
+"Madeleine!--please--please, don't! I can't have her back again. I am
+quite well now. There was nothing more she could do for me. I shall
+sleep a thousand times better at night if she is not here. Oh, don't
+bring her back again! Her voice cut like a knife, and her hands were
+so hard."
+
+She trembled with excitement, and was on the brink of tears.
+
+"Hush!--don't excite yourself like that," said Madeleine, and tried to
+soothe her. "There's no need for it. If you are really determined not
+to have her, then she shall not come and that's the end of it. Not but
+what I think it foolish of you all the same," she could not refrain
+from adding. "You are still weak. However, if you prefer it, I'll do
+my best to run up this evening to see that you have everything for the
+night."
+
+"I don't want you either."
+
+Madeleine shrugged her shoulders, and her pity became tinged
+with impatience.
+
+"The doctor says you must go away somewhere, for a change," she said
+as she beat up the pillows and smoothed out the crumpled sheets,
+preparatory to coaxing her patient back to bed.
+
+Louise shook her head, but did not speak.
+
+"A few weeks' change of air is what you need to set you up again."
+
+"I cannot go away."
+
+"Nonsense! Of course you can. You don't want to be ill all the winter?"
+
+"I don't want to be well."
+
+Madeleine sniffed audibly. "There's no reasoning with you. When you
+hear on all sides that it's for your own good----"
+
+"Oh, stop tormenting me!" cried Louise, raising a drawn face with
+disordered hair. "I won't go away! Nothing will make me. I shall stay
+here--though I never get well again."
+
+"But why? Give me one sensible reason for not going.--You can't!"
+
+"Yes . . . if . . . if Eugen should come back."
+
+The words could only just be caught. Madeleine stood, holding a sheet
+with both hands, as though she could not believe her ears.
+
+"Louise!" she said at last, in a tone which meant many things.
+
+Louise began to cry, and was shaken by hard, dry sobs. Madeleine did
+not look at her again, but went severely on with her bedmaking. When
+she had finished, she crossed to the washstand, and poured out a glass
+of water.
+
+Louise took it, humbled and submissive, and gradually her sobs abated.
+But now Madeleine, in place of getting ready to leave, as she had
+intended, sat down at the centre table, and revolved what she felt it
+to be her duty to say. When all sound of crying had ceased, she began
+to speak, persuasively, in a quiet voice.
+
+"You have brought the matter up yourself, Louise," she said, "and, now
+the ice is broken, there are one or two things I should like to say to
+you. First then, you have been very ill, far worse than you know--the
+immediate danger is over now, so I can speak of it. But who can tell
+what may happen if you persist in remaining on here by yourself, in
+the state you are in?"
+
+Louise did not stir; her face was hidden.
+
+"The reason you give for staying is not a serious one, I hope,"
+Madeleine proceeded cautiously choosing her words. "After all
+the . . . the precautions that were taken to ensure the . . . break,
+it is not all likely . . . he would think of returning. And Louise,"
+she added with warmth, "even though he did--suppose he did--after the
+way he has behaved, and his disgraceful treatment of you----"
+
+Louise looked up for an instant. "That is not true," she said.
+
+"Not true?" echoed Madeleine. "Well, if you are able to admire his
+behaviour--if you don't consider it disgraceful--no, more than
+that--infamous----" She stopped, not being able to find a stronger
+epithet.
+
+"It is not true," said Louise in the same expressionless voice. But
+now she lifted her head, and pressed the palms of her hands together.
+
+Madeleine pushed back her chair, as if she were about to rise. "Then I
+have nothing more to say," she said; and went on: "If you are ready to
+defend a man who has acted towards you as he has--in a way that makes a
+respectable person's blood boil--there is indeed nothing more to be
+said." She reddened with indignation. "As if it were not bad enough
+for him to go, after all you have done for him, but that he must do it
+in such a mean, underhand way--it's enough to make one sick. The only
+thing to compare with it is his conduct on the night before he left.
+Do you know, pray, that on the last evening, at a KNEIPE in the
+GOLDENE HIRSCH, he boasted of what you had done for him--boasted about
+everything that had happened between you--to a rowdy, tipsy crew? More
+than that, he gave shameless details, about you going to his room that
+afternoon----"
+
+"It's not true, it's not true," repeated Louise, as if she had got
+these few words by heart. She rose from her chair, and leaned on it,
+half turning her back to Madeleine, and holding her handkerchief to
+her lips.
+
+Madeleine shrugged her shoulders. "Do you think I should say it, if it
+weren't?" she asked. "I don't invent scandal. And you are bound to
+hear it when you go out again. He did this, and worse than I choose to
+tell you, and if you felt as you ought to about it, you would never
+give him another thought. He's not worth it. He's not worth any
+respectable person's----"
+
+"Respectable!" burst in Louise, and raised two blazing eyes to her
+companion's face. "That's the second time. Why do you come
+here, Madeleine, and talk like that to me? He did what he was obliged
+to--that's all: for I should never have let him go. Can't you see how
+preposterous it is to think that by talking of respectability, and
+unworthiness, you can make me leave off caring for him?--when for
+months I have lived for nothing else? Do you think one can change
+one's feelings so easily? Don't you understand that to love a person
+once is to love him always and altogether?--his faults as
+well--everything he does, good or bad, no matter what other people
+think of it? Oh, you have never really cared for anyone yourself, or
+you would know it."
+
+"It's not preposterous at all," retorted Madeleine. "Yes--if he had
+deserved all the affection you wasted on him, or if unhappy
+circumstances had separated you. But that's not the case. He has
+behaved scandalously, without the least attempt at shielding you. He
+has made you the talk of the place. And you may consider me narrow and
+prejudiced, but this I must say--I am boundlessly astonished at you.
+When he has shown you as plainly as he can that he's tired of you,
+that you should still be ready to defend him, and have so little
+proper pride that you even say you would take him back!----"
+
+Louise turned on her. "You would never do that, Madeleine, would
+you?--never so far forget yourself as to crawl to a man's feet and
+ask--ask?--no, implore forgiveness, for faults you were not conscious of
+having committed. You would never beg him to go on loving you, after
+he had ceased to care, or think nothing on earth worth having if he
+would not--or could not. As I would; as I have done." But chancing to
+look at Madeleine, she grew quieter. "You would never do that, would
+you?" she repeated. "And do you know why?" Her words came quickly
+again; her voice shook with excitement. "Because you will never care
+for anyone more than yourself--it isn't in you to do it. You will go
+through life, tight on to the end, without knowing what it is to care
+for some one--oh, but I mean absolutely, unthinkingly----"
+
+She broke down, and hid her face again. Madeleine had carried the cups
+and saucers to a side-table, and now put on her hat.
+
+"And I hope I never shall," she said, forcing herself to speak calmly.
+"If I thought it likely, I should never look at a man again."
+
+But Louise had not finished. Coming round to the front of the
+rocking-chair, and leaning on the table, she gazed at Madeleine
+with wild eyes, while her pale lips poured forth a kind of
+revenge for the suffering, real and imaginary, that she had undergone
+at the hands of this cooler nature.
+
+"And I'll tell you why. You are doubly safe; for you will never be
+able to make a man care so much that--that you are forced to love him
+like this in return. It isn't in you to do it. I don't mean because
+you're plain. There are plenty of plainer women than you, who can make
+men follow them. No, it's your nature--your cold, narrow, egotistic
+nature--which only lets you care for things outside yourself in a cold,
+narrow way. You will never know what it is to be taken out of yourself,
+taken and shaken, till everything you are familiar with falls away."
+
+She laughed; but tears were near at hand. Madeleine had turned her
+back on her, and stood buttoning her jacket, with a red, exasperated face.
+
+"I shall not answer you," she said. "You have worked yourself into
+such a state that you don't know what you're saying. All the same, I
+think you might try to curb your tongue. I have done nothing to
+you--but be kind to you."
+
+"Kind to me? Do you call it kind to come here and try to set me
+against the man I love best in the world? And who loves me best, too.
+Yes; he does. He would never have gone, if he hadn't been forced to--if
+I hadn't been a hindrance to him--a drag on him."
+
+"It makes me ashamed of my sex to hear you say such things. That a
+woman can so far lose her pride as to----"
+
+"Oh, other women do it in other ways. Do you think I haven't seen how
+you have been trying to make some one here like you?--doing your
+utmost, without any thoughts of pride or self-respect.--And how you
+have failed? Yes, failed. And if you don't believe me, ask him
+yourself--ask him who it is that could bring him to her, just by
+raising her finger. It's to me he would come, not to you--to me who
+have never given him look or thought."
+
+Madeleine paled, then went scarlet. "That's a direct untruth. You!--and
+not to egg a man on, if you see he admires you! You know every time a
+passer-by looks at you in the street. You feed on such looks--yes, and
+return them, too. I have seen you, my lady, looking and being looked
+at, by a stranger, in a way no decent woman allows.--For the rest, I'll
+trouble you to mind your own business. Whatever I do or don't do,
+trust me, I shall at least take care not to make myself the
+laughing-stock of the place. Yes, you have only succeeded in making
+yourself ridiculous. For while you were cringing before him, and aspiring
+to die for his sake, he was making love behind your back to another girl.
+For the last six months. Every one knew it, it seems, but you."
+
+She had spoken with unconcealed anger, and now turned to leave the
+room. But Louise was at the door before her, and spread herself across
+it.
+
+"That's a lie, Madeleine! Of your own making. You shall prove it to me
+before you go out of this room. How dare you say such a thing !--how
+dare you!"
+
+Madeleine looked at her with cold aversion, and drew back to avoid
+touching her.
+
+"Prove it?" she echoed. "Are his own words not proof enough! He told
+the whole story that night, just as he had first told all about you.
+It had been going on for months. Sometimes, you were hardly out of his
+room, before the other was in. And if you don't believe me, ask the
+person you're so proud of having attracted, without raising your
+finger."
+
+Louise moved away from the door, and went back to the table, on which
+she leaned heavily. All the blood had left her face and the dark rings
+below her eyes stood out with alarming distinctness. Madeleine felt a
+sudden compunction at what she had done.
+
+"It's entirely your own fault that I told you anything whatever about
+it," she said, heartily annoyed with herself. "You had no right to
+provoke me by saying what you did. I declare, Louise, to be with you
+makes one just like you. If it's any consolation to you to know it, he
+was drunk at the time, and there's a possibility it may not be true."
+
+"Go away--go out of my room!" cried Louise. And Madeleine went, without
+delay, having almost a physical sensation about her throat of the
+slender hands stretched so threateningly towards her.--And this
+unpleasant feeling remained with her until she turned the corner of
+the street.
+
+
+
+
+II.
+
+
+
+On the afternoon when Maurice found that Madeleine had kept her word
+he went home and paced his room in perplexity. He pictured Louise
+lying helpless, too weak to raise her hand. His brain went stupidly
+over the few people to whom he might turn for aid. Avery Hill?--Johanna
+Cayhill? But Avery was occupied with her own troubles; and Johanna's
+relationship to Ephie put her out of the question. He was thinking
+fantastic thoughts of somehow offering his own services, or of even
+throwing himself on the goodness of a person like Miss Jensen, whose
+motherly form must surely imply a corresponding motherliness of heart,
+when Frau. Krause entered the room, bearing a letter which she said
+had been left for him an hour or two previously. She carried a lamp in
+her hand, and eyed her restless lodger with suspicion.
+
+"Why, in the name of goodness, didn't you bring this in when it came?"
+he demanded. He held the unopened letter at arm's length, as if he
+were afraid of it.
+
+Frau Krause bridled instantly. Did he think she had nothing else to do
+than to carry things in and out of his room? The letter had lain on
+the chest of drawers in the passage; he could have seen it for
+himself, had he troubled to look.
+
+Maurice waved her away. He was staring at the envelope; he believed he
+knew the handwriting. His heart beat with precise hammerings. He laid
+the letter on the table, and took a few turns in the room before he
+picked it up again. On examining it anew, it seemed to him that the
+lightly gummed envelope had been tampered with, and he made a
+threatening movement towards the door, then checked himself,
+remembering that if the letter were what he believed, it would be
+written in English. He tore it open, destroying the envelope in his
+nervousness. There was no heading, and it was only a few lines long.
+
+I MUST SPEAK TO YOU. WILL YOU COME TO ME THIS EVENING? LOUISE
+DUFRAYER.
+
+His heart was thumping now. He was to go to her, she said so
+herself; to go this moment, for it was evening already. As it was, she
+was perhaps waiting for him, wondering why he did not come. He had not
+shaved that day, and his first impulse was to call for hot water. In
+the same breath he gave up the idea: it was out of the question by the
+poor light of the lamp, and the extraordinary position of the
+looking-glass. He made, however, a hasty toilet in his best, only to
+colour at himself when finished. Was there ever such a fool as he? His
+act contained the germ of an insult: and he rapidly changed back to
+his workaday wear.
+
+All this took time, and it was eight o'clock before he rang the
+door-bell in the BRUDERSTRASSE. Now, the landlady did not mistake him
+for a possible thief. But she looked at him in an unfriendly way, and
+said grumblingly that Fraulein had been expecting him for an hour or
+more. Then she pointed to the door of the room, and left him to make
+his way in alone.
+
+He knocked gently, but no one answered. The old woman, who stood
+watching his movements, signed to him to enter, and he turned the
+handle. The large room was dark, except for the light shed by a small
+lamp, which stood on the table before the sofa. From somewhere out of
+the dusk that lay beyond, a white figure rose and came towards him.
+
+Louise was in a crumpled dressing-gown, and her hair was loosened from
+its coil on her neck. Maurice saw so much, before she was close beside
+him, her eyes searching his face.
+
+"Oh, you have come," she said with a sigh, as if a load had been
+lifted from her mind. "I thought you were not coming."
+
+"I only got your note a few minutes ago. I . . . I came at once," he
+said, and stammered, as he saw how greatly illness had changed her.
+
+"I knew you would."
+
+She did not give him her hand, but stood gazing at him; and her look
+was so helpless and forlorn that he grew uncomfortable.
+
+"You have been ill?" he said, to render the pause that followed less
+embarrassing.
+
+"Yes; but I'm better now." She supported herself on the table; her
+indecision seemed to increase, and several seconds passed before she
+said: "Won't you sit down?"
+
+He took one of the stuffed arm-chairs she indicated; and she went back
+to the sofa. Again there was silence. With her elbows on her knees,
+her chin on her two hands, Louise stared hard at the pattern of the
+tablecloth. Maurice sat stiff and erect, waiting for her to tell him
+why she had summoned him.
+
+"You will think it strange that I should send for you like
+this . . . when I know you so slightly," she began at length.
+"But . . .since I saw you last . . . I have been in trouble,"--her voice
+broke, but her eyes remained fixed on the cloth. "And I am quite alone. I
+have no one to help me. Then I thought of you; you were kind to me
+once; you offered to help me." She paused, and wound her handkerchief
+to a ball.
+
+"Anything!--anything that lies in my power," said Maurice fervently. He
+fidgeted his hands round the brim of his hat, which he was holding to him.
+
+"Won't you tell me what it is?" he asked, after another long break. "I
+should be so glad, and grateful--yes, indeed, grateful--if there were
+anything I could do for you."
+
+She met his eyes, and tried to say something, but no sound came over
+her lips. She was trying to fasten her thoughts on what she had to
+say, but, in spite of her efforts, they eluded her. For more than
+twenty-four hours she had brooded over one idea; the strain had been
+too great; and, now that the moment had come, her strength deserted
+her. She would have liked to lay her head on her arms and sleep; it
+almost seemed to her now, in the indifference of sheer fatigue, that
+it did not matter whether she spoke or not. But as she looked at the
+young man, she became conscious of an expression in his face, which
+made her own grow hard.
+
+"I won't be pitied."
+
+Maurice turned very red. His heart had gone out to her in her
+distress; and his feelings were painted on his face. His discomfiture
+at her discovery was so palpable that it gave her courage to go on.
+
+"You were one of those, were you not, who were present at a certain
+cafe in the BRUHL, one evening, three weeks ago." It was more of a
+statement than a question. Her eyes held him fast. His retreating
+colour rose again; he had a presentiment of what was coming.
+
+"Then you must have heard----" she began quickly, but left the
+sentence unended.
+
+His suspicions took shape, and he made a large, vague gesture of
+dissent. "You heard all that was said," she continued, without paying
+any heed to him. "You heard how . . . how some one--no, how the man I
+loved and trusted . . . how he boasted about my caring for him; and
+not only that, but how, before that drunken crowd, he told how
+I had been to him ... to his room . . . that afternoon----" She could
+not finish, and pressed her knotted handkerchief to her lips.
+
+Maurice looked round him for assistance. "You are mistaken," he
+declared. "I heard nothing of the kind. Remember, I, too, was among
+those . . . in the state you mention," he added as an afterthought,
+lowering his voice.
+
+"That is not it." Leaning forward, she opened her eyes so wide that he
+saw a rim of white round the brown of the pupils. "You must also have
+heard . . . how, all this time, behind my back, there was some one
+else . . . someone he cared for . . . when I thought it was only me."
+
+The young man coloured, with her and for her. "It is not true; you
+have been misled," he said with vehemence. And, again, a flash of
+intuition suggested an afterthought to him. "Can you really believe
+it? Don't you think better of him than that?"
+
+For the first time since she had known him, Louise gave him a personal
+look, a look that belonged to him alone, and held a warm ray of
+gratitude. Then, however, she went on unsparingly: "I want you to tell
+me who it was."
+
+He laid his hat on a chair, and used his hands. "But if I assure you
+it is not true? If I give you my word that you have been misinformed?"
+
+"Who was it? What is her name?"
+
+He rose, and went away from the table.
+
+"I knew him better than you," she said slowly, as he did not speak:
+"you or anyone else--a hundred thousand times better--and I KNOW it is
+true."
+
+Still he did not answer. "Then you won't tell me?"
+
+"Tell you? How can I? There's nothing to tell."
+
+"I was wrong then. You have no pity for me?"
+
+"Pity!--I no pity?" he cried, forgetting how, a minute ago, she had
+resented his feeling it. "But all the same I can't tell you what you
+ask me. You don't realise what it means: putting a slur on a young
+girl's name . . . which has never been touched."
+
+Directly he had said this, he was aware of his foolishness; but she
+let the admission contained in the words pass unnoticed.
+
+"Then she is not with him?" she cried, springing to her feet, and
+there was a jubilation in her voice, which she did not attempt
+to suppress. Maurice made no answer, but in his face was such a
+mixture of surprise and disconcertion that it was answer enough.
+
+She remained standing, with her head bowed; and Maurice, who, in his
+nervousness, had gripped the back of his chair, held it so tightly
+that it left a furrow in his hand. He was looking into the lamp, and
+did not at first see that Louise had raised her head again and was
+contemplating him. When she had succeeded in making him look at her,
+she sat down on the sofa and drew the folds of her dressing-gown to
+her.
+
+"Come and sit here. I want to speak to you."
+
+But Maurice only shot a quick glance at her, and did not move.
+
+She leaned forward, in her old position. She had pushed the heavy
+wings of hair up from her forehead, and this, together with her
+extreme pallor, gave her face a look of febrile intensity.
+
+"Maurice Guest," she said slowly, "do you remember a night last
+summer, when, by chance, you happened to walk with me, coming home
+from the theatre?--Or have you perhaps forgotten?"
+
+He shook his head.
+
+"Then do you remember, too, what you said to me? How, since the first
+time you had seen me--you even knew where that was, I believe--you had
+thought about me . . . thought too much, or words to that effect. Do
+you remember?"
+
+"Do you think when a man says a thing like that he forgets it? "asked
+Maurice in a gruff voice. He turned, as he spoke, and looked down on
+her with a kind of pitying wisdom. "If you knew how often I have
+reproached myself for it!" he added.
+
+"There was no need for that," she answered, and even smiled a little.
+"We women never resent having such things said to us--never--though it
+is supposed we do, and though we must pretend to. But I remember, too,
+I was in a bad mood that night, and was angry with you, after all.
+Everything seemed to have gone against me. In the theatre--in . . . Oh,
+no, no!" she cried, as she remembrance of that past night, with its
+alternations of pain and pleasure, broke over her. "My God!"
+
+Maurice hardly breathed, for fear he should remind her of his
+presence. When the paroxysm had passed, she crossed to the window; the
+blinds had not been drawn, and leaning her forehead on the glass, she
+looked out into the darkness. In spite of his trouble of mind,
+the young man could not but comment on the ironic fashion in which
+fate was treating him: not once, in all the hours he had spent on the
+pavement below, had Louise come, like this, to the window; now that
+she did so, he was in the room beside her, wishing himself away.
+
+Then, with a swift movement, she came back to him, and stood at his
+side.
+
+"Then it was not true?--what you said that night."
+
+"True?" echoed Maurice. He instinctively moved a step away from her,
+and threw a quick glance at the pale face so near his own. "If I were
+to tell you how much more than that is true, you wouldn't have
+anything more to do with me."
+
+For the second time, she seemed to see him and consider him. But he
+kept his head turned stubbornly away.
+
+"You feel like that," she began in slow surprise, to continue
+hurriedly: "You care for me like that, and yet, when I ask the first
+and only thing I shall ever ask of you, you won't do it? It is a
+lesson to me, I suppose, not to come to you for help again.--Oh, I
+can't understand you men! You are all--all alike."
+
+"I would do anything in the world for you. Anything but this."
+
+She repeated his last words after him. "But I want nothing else."
+
+"This I can't tell you."
+
+"Then you don't really care. You only think you do. If you can't do
+this one small thing for me! Oh, there is no one else I can turn to,
+or I would. Oh, please tell me!--you who make-believe to care for me.
+You won't? When it comes to the point, a man will do nothing--nothing
+at all."
+
+"I would cut off my hands for you. But you are asking me to do
+something I think wrong."
+
+"Wrong! What is wrong?--and what is right? They are only words. Is it
+right that I should be left like this?--thrown away like a broken
+plate? Oh, I shall not rest till I know who it was that took him from
+me. And you are the only person who can help me. Are you not a little
+sorry for me? Is there nothing I can do to make you sorry?"
+
+"You won't realise what you are asking me to do."
+
+He spoke in a constrained voice, for he felt the impossiblity of
+standing out much longer against her. Louise caught the note of
+yielding, and taking his hand in hers, laid it against her forehead.
+
+"Feel that! Feel how it throbs and burns! And so it has gone
+on for hours now, for days. I can't think or feel--with that fever in
+me. I must know who it was, or I shall go mad. Don't torture me then--
+you, too! You are good. Be kind to me now. Be my friend, Maurice Guest."
+
+Maurice was vanquished; in a low voice he told her what she wished to
+hear. She read the syllables from his lips, repeated the name slowly
+after him, then shook her head; she did not know it. Letting his hand
+drop, she went back to the sofa.
+
+"Tell me everything you know about her," she said imperiously. "What
+is she like?--what is she like? What is the colour of her hair?"
+
+Maurice was a poor hand at description. Questioned thus, he was not
+even sure whether to call Ephie pretty or not; he knew that she was
+small, and very young, but of her hair he could say little, except
+that it was not black.
+
+Louise caught at the detail. "Not black, no, not black!" she cried.
+"He had black enough here," and she ran her hands through her own
+unruly hair.
+
+There was nothing she did not want to know, did not try to force from
+his lips; and a relentless impatience seized her at his powerlessness.
+
+"I must see her for myself," she said at length, when he had stammered
+into silence. "You must bring her to me."
+
+"No, that you really can't ask me to do."
+
+She came over to him again, and took his hands. "You will bring her
+here to-morrow--to-morrow afternoon. Do you think I shall hurt her? Is
+she any better than I am? Oh, don't be afraid! We are not so easily
+soiled."
+
+Maurice demurred no more.
+
+"For until I see her, I shall not know--I shall not know," she said to
+herself, when he had pledged his word.
+
+The tense expression of her face relaxed; her mouth drooped; she lay
+back in the sofa-corner and shut her eyes. For what seemed a long
+time, there was no sound in the room. Maurice thought she had fallen
+asleep. But at his first light movement she opened her eyes.
+
+"Now go," she said. "Please, go!" And he obeyed.
+
+The night was cold, but, as he stood irresolute in the street, he
+wiped the perspiration from his forehead. He felt very perplexed. Only
+one thing was clear to him: he had promised to bring Ephie to see her
+the next day, and, however wrong it might be, the promise was given
+and must be kept. But what he now asked himself was: did not
+the bringing of the child, under these circumstances, imply a tacit
+acknowledgment that she was seriously involved?--a fact which, all
+along, he had striven against admitting. For, after his one encounter
+with Ephie and Schilsky, in the woods that summer, and the first
+firing of his suspicions, he had seen nothing else to render him
+uneasy; a few weeks later, Ephie had gone to Switzerland, and, on her
+return in September, or almost directly afterwards--three or four days
+at most--Schilsky had taken his departure. There had been, of course,
+his drunken boasts to take into account, but firstly, Maurice had only
+retained a hazy idea of their nature, and, in the next place, the
+events which had followed that evening had been of so much greater
+importance to him that he had had no thoughts to spare for Ephie--more
+especially as he then knew that Schilsky was out of the way. But now
+the whole affair rose vividly before his mind again, and in his heart
+he knew that he had always believed--just as Louise believed--in Ephie's
+guilt. No: guilt was too strong a word. Yet however harmless the
+flirtation might have been in itself, it had been carried on in secret,
+in an underhand way: there had been nothing straightforward or above-board
+about it; and this alone was enough to compromise a young girl.
+
+The Cayhills had been in Leipzig again for three weeks, but so
+occupied had Maurice been during this time, that he had only paid them
+one hasty call. Now he felt that he must see Ephie at once, not only
+to secure her word that she would come out with him, the following
+day, but also to read from her frank eyes and childish lips the
+assurance of her innocence, or, at least, the impossibility of her guilt.
+
+But as he walked to the LESSINGSTRASSE, he remembered, without being
+able to help it, all the trifles which, at one time or another, had
+disturbed his relations with Ephie. He recalled each of the thin,
+superficial untruths, by means of which she had defended herself, the
+day he had met her with Schilsky: it seemed incredible to him now that
+he had not seen through them instantly. He called up her pretty,
+insincere behaviour with the circle of young men that gathered round
+her; the language of signs by which she had conversed with Schilsky in
+the theatre. He remembered the astounding ease with which he had made
+her acquaintance in the first case, or rather, with which she had made
+his. Even the innocent kiss she had once openly incited him to, and on
+the score of which she had been so exaggeratedly angry--this, too, was
+summoned to bear witness against her. Each of these incidents
+now seemed to point to a fatal frivolity, to a levity of character
+which, put to a real test, would offer no resistance.
+
+Supper was over in the PENSION, but only Mrs. Cayhill sat in her
+accustomed corner. Ephie was with the rest of the boarders in the
+general sitting-room, where Johanna conducted Maurice. Boehmer was
+paying an evening visit, as well as a very young American, who
+laughed: "Heh, heh!" at everything that was said, thereby displaying
+two prominently gold teeth. Mrs. Tully sat on a small sofa, with her
+arm round Ephie's waist: they were the centre of the group, and it did
+not appear likely that Maurice would get an opportunity of speaking to
+Ephie in private. She was in high spirits, and had only a saucy
+greeting for him. He sat down beside Johanna, and waited, ill at ease.
+Soon his patience was exhausted; rising, he went over to the sofa, and
+asked Ephie if he might come to take her for a walk, the next
+afternoon. But she would not give him an express promise; she pouted:
+after all these weeks, it suddenly occurred to him to come and see
+them, and then, the first thing he did, was to ask a favour of her.
+Did he really expect her to grant it?
+
+"Don't, Ephie, love, don't!" cried Mrs. Tully in her sprightly way.
+"Men are really shocking creatures, and it is our duty, love, to keep
+them in their place. If we don't, they grow presumptuous," and she
+shot an arch look at Boehmer, who returned it, fingered his beard, and
+murmured: "Cruel--cruel!"
+
+"And even if I wanted to go when the time came, how do you expect me
+to know so long beforehand? Ever so many things may happen before
+to-morrow," said Ephie brilliantly; at which Mrs. Tully laughed very
+much indeed, and still more at Boehmer's remark that it was an ancient
+privilege of the ladies, never to be obliged to know their own minds.
+
+"It's a libel--take that, you naughty boy!" she cried, and slapped him
+playfully on the hand. "Ephie, love, how shall we punish him?"
+
+"He is not to come again for a week," answered Ephie slily; and at
+Boehmer's protestations of penitence and despair, both she and Mrs.
+Tully laughed till the tears stood in their eyes, Ephie all the more
+extravagantly because Maurice stood unsmiling before her.
+
+"I ask this as a direct favour, Ephie. There's something I want to say
+to you--something important," he added in a low voice, so that only she
+could hear it.
+
+Ephie changed colour at once, and tried to read his face.
+
+"Then I may come at five? You will be ready? Good night."
+
+Johanna followed him into the passage, and stood by while he put on
+his coat. They had used up all their small talk in the sitting-room,
+and had nothing more to say to each other. When however they shook
+hands, she observed impulsively: "Sometimes I wish we were safe back
+home again." But Maurice only said: "Indeed?" and displayed no
+curiosity to know the reason why.
+
+After he had gone, Ephie was livelier than before, as long as she was
+being teased about her pale, importunate admirer. Then, suddenly, she
+pleaded a headache, and went to her own room.
+
+Johanna, listening outside the door, concluded from the stillness that
+her sister was asleep. But Ephie heard Johanna come and go. She could
+not sleep, nor could she get Maurice's words out of her mind. He had
+something important to say to her. What could it be? There was only
+one important subject in the world for her now; and she longed for the
+hour of his visit--longed, hoped, and was more than half afraid.
+
+
+
+
+
+III.
+
+
+
+Since her return to Leipzig, Ephie's spirits had gone up and down like
+a barometer in spring. In this short time, she passed through more
+changes of mood than in all her previous life. She learned what
+uncertainty meant, and suspense, and helplessness; she caught at any
+straw of hope, and, for a day on end, would be almost comforted; she
+invented numberless excuses for Schilsky, and rejected them, one and
+all. For she was quite in the dark about his movements; she had not
+seen him since her return, and could hear nothing of him. Only the
+first of the letters she had written to him from Switzerland had
+elicited a reply, and he had left all the notes she had sent him,
+since getting back, unanswered.
+
+Her fellow-boarder, Mrs. Tully, was her only confidant; and that, only
+in so far as this lady, knowing that what she called "a little
+romance" was going on, had undertaken to enclose any letters that
+might arrive during Ephie's absence. Johanna had no suspicions, or
+rather she had hitherto had none. In the course of the past week,
+however, it had become plain even to her blind, sisterly eyes that
+something was the matter with Ephie. She could still be lively when
+she liked, almost unnaturally lively, and especially in the company of
+Mrs. Tully and her circle; but with these high spirits alternated fits
+of depression, and once Johanna had come upon her in tears. Driven
+into a corner, Ephie declared that Herr Becker had scolded her at her
+lesson; but Johanna was not satisfied with this explanation; for
+formerly, the master's blame or praise had left no impression on her
+little sister's mind. Even worse than this, Ephie could now, on slight
+provocation, be thoroughly peevish--a thing so new in her that it
+worried Johanna most of all. The long walks of the summer had been
+given up; but Ephie had adopted a way of going in and out of the
+house, just as it pleased her, without a word to her sister. Johanna
+scrutinised her keenly, and the result was so disturbing that she
+resolved to broach the subject to her mother.
+
+On the morning after Maurice's visit, therefore, she appeared in the
+sitting-room, with a heap of undarned stockings in one hand,
+her work-basket in the other, and with a very determined expression on
+her face. But the moment was not a happy one: Mrs. Cayhill was deep in
+WHY PAUL FERROL KILLED HIS WIFE; and would be lost to her surroundings
+until the end of the book was reached. Had Johanna been of an
+observant turn of mind, she would have waited a little; for, finding
+the intermediate portion of the novel dry reading, Mrs. Cayhill was
+getting over the pages at the rate of three or four a minute, and
+would soon have been finished.
+
+But Johanna sat down at the table and opened fire.
+
+"I wish to speak to you, mother," she said firmly.
+
+Mrs. Cayhill did not even blink. Johanna drew several threads across a
+hole she was darning, before she repeated, in the same decided tone:
+"Do you hear me, mother? There is something I wish to speak to you
+about."
+
+"Hm," said Mrs. Cayhill, without raising her eyes from the page. She
+heard Johanna, and was even vaguely distracted by her from the web of
+circumstance that was enveloping her hero; but she believed, from
+experience, that if she took no notice of her, Johanna would not
+persist. What the latter had to say would only be a reminder that it
+was mail-day, and no letters were ready; or that if she did not put on
+her bonnet and go out for a walk, she would be obliged to take another
+of her nerve-powders that night: and Mrs. Cayhill hated moral
+persuasion with all her heart.
+
+"Put down your book, mother, please, and listen to me," continued
+Johanna, without any outward sign of impatience, and as she spoke, she
+drew another stocking over her hand.
+
+"What IS the matter, Joan? I wish you would let me be," answered Mrs.
+Cayhill querulously, still without looking up.
+
+"It's about Ephie, mother. But you can't hear me if you go on
+reading."
+
+"I can hear well enough," said Mrs. Cayhill, and turning a page, she
+lost herself, to all appearance, in the next one. Johanna did not
+reply, and for some minutes there was silence, broken only by the
+turning of the leaves. Then, compelled by something that was stronger
+than herself, Mrs. Cayhill laid her book on her knee, gave a loud
+sigh, and glanced at Johanna's grave face.
+
+"You are a nuisance, Joan. Well, make haste now--what is it?"
+
+"It's Ephie, mother. I am not easy about her lately. I don't think she
+can be well. She is so unlike herself."
+
+"Really, Joan," said Mrs. Cayhill, laughing with an exaggerated
+carelessness. "I think I should be the first to notice if she were sick.
+But you like to make yourself important, that's what it is, and to have a
+finger in every pie. There is nothing whatever the matter with the child."
+
+"She's not well, I'm sure," persisted Johanna, without haste. "I have
+noticed it for some time now. I think the air here is not agreeing
+with her. I constantly hear it said that this is an enervating place.
+I believe it would be better for her if we went somewhere else for the
+winter--even if we returned home. Nothing binds us, and health is the
+first and chief----"
+
+"Go home?" cried Mrs. Cayhill, and turned her book over on its face.
+"Really, Joan, you are absurd! Because Ephie finds it hard to settle
+down again, after such a long vacation--and that's all it is--you want
+to rush off to a fresh place, when . . . when we are just so
+comfortably fixed here for the winter, and where we have at last
+gotten us a few friends. As for going home, why, every one would
+suppose we'd gone crazy. We haven't been away six months yet--and when
+Mr. Cayhill is coming over to fetch us back--and . . . and everything."
+
+She spoke with heat; for she knew from experience that what her elder
+daughter resolved on, was likely to be carried through.
+
+"That is all very well, mother," continued Johanna unmoved. "But I
+don't think your arguments are sound if we find that Ephie is really
+sick, and needs a change."
+
+"Arguments not sound! What big words you love to use, Joan! You let
+Ephie be. She grows prettier every day, and she's a favourite wherever
+she goes."
+
+"That's another thing. Her head is being turned, and she will soon be
+quite spoilt. She begins to like the fuss and attention so well that----"
+
+"You had your chances too, Joan. You needn't be jealous."
+
+Johanna had heard this remark too often to be sensitive to it.
+
+"When it comes to serious 'chances,' as you call them, no one will be
+more pleased for Ephie or more interested than I. But this is
+something different. You see that yourself, mother, I am sure. These
+young men who come about the house are so foolish, and immature, and
+they have such different ideas of things from ourselves. They think
+so. . . so"--Johanna hesitated for a word--"so laxly on earnest subjects.
+And it is telling on Ephie--Look, for instance, at Mr. Dove! I don't
+want to say anything against him, in particular. He is really
+more serious than the rest. But for some time now, he has been making
+himself ridiculous,"--Johanna had blushed for Dove on the occasion of
+his last visit. "No one could be more in earnest than he is; but Ephie
+only makes fun of him, in a heartless way. She won't see what a grave
+matter it is to him."
+
+Mrs. Cayhill laughed, not at all displeased. "Young people will be
+young people. You can't put old heads on young shoulders, Joan, or
+shut them up in separate houses. Ephie is an extremely pretty girl,
+and it will be the same wherever we go.--As for young Dove, he knows
+well enough that nothing can come of it, and if he chooses to continue
+his attentions, why, he must take the consequences--that's all.
+Absurd!--a boy and girl flirtation, and to make so much of it! A
+mountain of a molehill, as usual. And half the time, you only imagine
+things, and don't see what is going on under your very nose. Anyone
+but you, I'm sure, would find more to object to in the way young Guest
+behaves than Dove."
+
+"Maurice Guest?" said Johanna, and laid her hands with stocking and
+needle on the table.
+
+"Yes, Maurice Guest," repeated Mrs. Cayhill, with complacent mockery.
+"Do you think no one has eyes but yourself?--No, Joan, you're not sharp
+enough. Just look at the way he went on last night! Every one but you
+could see what was the matter with him. Mrs. Tully told me about it
+afterwards. Why, he never took his eyes off her."
+
+"Oh, I'm sure you are mistaken," said Johanna earnestly, and was
+silent from sheer surprise. "He has been here so seldom of late," she
+added after a pause, thinking aloud.
+
+"Just for that very reason," replied Mrs. Cayhill, with the same air
+of wisdom. "A nice-minded young man stays away, if he sees that his
+feelings are not returned, or if he has no position to offer.--And
+another thing I'll tell you, Joan, though you do think yourself so
+clever. You don't need to worry if Ephie is odd and fidgety sometimes
+just now. At her age, it's only to be expected. You know very well
+what I mean. All girls go through the same thing. You did yourself."
+
+After this, she took up her book again, having, she knew, successfully
+silenced her daughter, who, on matters of this nature, was extremely
+sensitive.
+
+Johanna went methodically on with her darning; but the new idea which
+her mother had dropped into her mind, took root and grew. Strange that
+it had not occurred to her before! Dove's state of mind had been
+patent from the first; but she had had no suspicions of Maurice Guest.
+His manner with Ephie had hitherto been that of a brother: he had never
+behaved like the rest. Yet, when she looked back on his visit of the
+previous evening, she could not but be struck by the strangeness of his
+demeanour: his distracted silence, his efforts to speak to Ephie alone,
+and the expression with which he had watched her. And Ephie?--what of her?
+Now that Johanna thought of it, a change had also come over Ephie's mode
+of treating Maurice; the gay insouciance of the early days had given place
+to the pert flippancy which, only the night before, had so pained her
+sister. What had brought about this change? Was it pique? Was Ephie
+chafing, in secret, at his prolonged absences, and was she, girl-like,
+anxious to conceal it from him?
+
+Johanna gathered up her work to go to her own room and think the
+matter out in private. In the passage, she ran into the arms of Mrs.
+Tully, whom she disliked; for, ever since coming to the PENSION, this
+lady had carried on a kind of cult with Ephie, which was distasteful
+in the extreme to Johanna.
+
+"Oh, Miss Cayhill!" she now exclaimed. "I was just groping my way--it
+is indeed groping, is it not?--to your sitting-room. WHERE is your
+sister? I want SO much to ask her if she will have tea with me this
+afternoon. I am expecting a few friends, and should be so glad if she
+would join us."
+
+"Ephie is practising, Mrs. Tully," said Johanna in her coolest tone.
+"And I cannot have her disturbed."
+
+"She is so very, very diligent," said Mrs. Tully with enthusiasm. "I
+always remark to myself on hearing her, how very idle a life like mine
+is in comparison. I am able to do SO little; just a mere trifle here
+and there, a little atom of good, one might say. I have no
+talents.--And you, too, dear Miss Cayhill. So studious, so clever! I
+hear of you on every side," and, letting her eyes rest on Johanna's
+head, she wondered why the girl wore her hair so unbecomingly.
+
+Johanna did not respond.
+
+"If only you would let your hair grow, it would make such a difference
+to your appearance," said Mrs. Tully suddenly, with disconcerting
+outspokenness.
+
+Johanna drew herself up.
+
+"Thanks," she said. "I have always worn my hair like this, and at my
+age, have no intention of altering it," and leaving Mrs. Tully
+protesting vehemently at such false modesty, she went past her, into
+her own room, and shut the door.
+
+She sat down by the window to sew. But her hands soon fell to
+her lap, and with her eyes on the backs of the neighbouring houses,
+she continued her interrupted reflections. First, though, she threw a
+quick, sarcastic side-glance on her mother and herself. As so often
+before, when she had wanted to pin her mother's attention to a
+subject, the centre of interest had shifted in spite of her efforts,
+and they had ended far from where they had begun: further, she,
+Johanna, had a way, when it came to the point, not of asking advice or
+of faithfully discussing a question, but of emphatically giving her
+opinion, or of stating what she considered to be the facts of the
+case.
+
+From an odd mixture of experience and self-distrust, Johanna had,
+however, acquired a certain faith in her mother's opinions--these
+blind, instinctive hits and guesses, which often proved right where
+Johanna's carefully drawn conclusions failed. Here, once more, her
+mother's idea had broken in upon her like a flash of light, even
+though she could not immediately bring herself to accept it. Maurice
+and Ephie! She could not reconcile the one with the other. Yet what if
+the child were fretting? What if he did not care? A pang shot through
+her at the thought that any outsider should have the power to make
+Ephie suffer. Oh, she would make him care!--she would talk to him as he
+had never been talked to in his life before.
+
+The sisters' rooms were connected by a door; and, gradually, in spite
+of her preoccupation, Johanna could not but become aware how brokenly
+Ephie was practising. Coaxing, encouragement, and sometimes even
+severity, were all, it is true, necessary to pilot Ephie through the
+two hours that were her daily task; but as idle as to-day, she had
+never been. What could she be doing? Johanna listened intently, but
+not a sound came from the room; and impelled by a curiosity to observe
+her sister in a new light, she rose and opened the door.
+
+Ephie was standing with her back to it, staring out of the window, and
+supporting herself on the table by her violin, which she held by the
+neck. At Johanna's entrance, she started, grew very red, and hastily
+raised the instrument to her shoulder.
+
+"What are you doing, Ephie? You are wasting a great deal of time,"
+said Johanna in the tone of mild reproof that came natural to her, in
+speaking to her little sister. "Is anything the matter to-day? If you
+don't practice better than this, you won't have the ETUDE ready by
+Friday, and Herr Becker will make you take it again--for the third
+time."
+
+"He can if he likes. I guess I don't care," said Ephie nonchantly,
+and, seizing the opportunity offered for a break, she sat
+down, and laid bow and fiddle on the table.
+
+"Have you remembered everything he pointed out to you at your last
+lesson?" asked Johanna, going over to the music-stand, and peering at
+the pages with her shortsighted eyes. "Let me see--what was it now?
+Something about this double-stopping here, and the fingering in this
+position."
+
+Ephie laughed. "Old Joan, what do you know about it?"
+
+"Not much, dear, I admit," said Johanna pleasantly. "But try and master
+it, like a good girl. So you can get rid of it, and go on to something
+else."
+
+Ephie sat back, clasped her hands behind her head, and gave a long
+sigh. "Yes, to the next one," she said. "Oh, if you only knew how sick
+I am of them, Joan! The next won't be a bit better than this. They are
+all alike--a whole book of them."
+
+Johanna looked down at the little figure with the plump, white arms,
+and discontented expression; and she tried to find in the childish
+face something she had previously not seen there.
+
+"Are you tired of studying, Ephie?" she asked. "Would you like to
+leave off and go away?"
+
+"Go away from Leipzig? Where to?" Ephie did not unclasp her hands, but
+her eyes grew vigilant.
+
+"Oh, there are plenty of other places, child. Dresden--or Weimar--or
+Stuttgart--where you could take lessons just as well. Or if you are
+tired of studying altogether, there is no need for you to go on with
+it. We can return home, any day. Sometimes, I think it would be better
+if we did. You have not been yourself lately, dear. I don't think you
+are very well."
+
+"I not myself?--not well? What rubbish you talk, Joan! I am quite
+well, and wish you wouldn't tease me. I guess you want to go away
+yourself. You are tired of being here. But nothing shall induce me to
+go. I love old Leipzig. And I still have heaps to learn before I leave
+off studying.--I don't even know whether I shall be ready by spring.
+It all depends. And now, Joan, go away." She took up her violin and
+put it on her shoulder. "Now it's you who are wasting time. How can I
+practise when you stand there talking?"
+
+Johanna was silent. But after this, she did not venture to mention
+Maurice's name; and she had turned to leave the room when she
+remembered her meeting with Mrs. Tully.
+
+"I would rather you did not go to tea, Ephie," she ended, and then
+regretted having said it.
+
+"That's another of your silly prejudices, Joan. I want to know
+why you feel so about Mrs. Tully. I think she's lovely. Not that I'd
+have gone anyway. I promised Maurice to go for a walk with him at
+five. I know what her 'few friends' means, too--just Boehmer, and she
+asks me along so people will think he comes to see me, and not her. He
+sits there, and twirls his moustache, and makes eyes at her, and she
+makes them back. I'm only for show. No, I shouldn't have gone. I can't
+bear Boehmer. He's such a goat."
+
+"You didn't think that as long as he came to see us," expostulated
+Johanna.
+
+"No, of course not. But so he only comes to see her, I do.--And
+sometimes, Joan, why it's just embarrassing. The last afternoon, why,
+he had a headache or something, and she made him lie on the sofa, with
+a rug over him, so she could bathe his head with eau-de-cologne. I
+guess she's going to marry him. And I'm not the only one. The other
+day I heard Frau Walter and Frau von Baerle talking in the dining-room
+after dinner, and they said the little English widow was very
+HEIRATSLUSTIG."
+
+"Ephie, I don't like to hear you repeat such foolish gossip," said
+Johanna in real distress. "And if you can understand and remember a
+word like that, you might really take more pains with your German. It
+is not impossible for you to learn, you see."
+
+"Joan the preacher, and Joan the teacher, and Joan the wise old bird,"
+sang Ephie, and laughed. "I think Mrs. Tully is real kind. She's going
+to show me a new way to do my hair. This style is quite out in London,
+she says."
+
+"Don't let her touch your hair. It couldn't be better than it is,"
+said Johanna quickly. But Ephie turned her head this way and that, and
+considered herself in the looking-glass.
+
+Now that she knew Maurice was expected that afternoon, Johanna awaited
+his arrival with impatience. Meanwhile, she believed she was not wrong
+in thinking Ephie unusually excited. At dinner, where, as always, the
+elderly boarders made a great fuss over her, her laughter was so loud
+as to grate on Johanna's ear; but afterwards, in their own
+sitting-room, a trifle sufficed to put her out of temper. A new hat
+had been sent home, a hat which Johanna had not yet seen. Now that it
+had come, Ephie was not sure whether she liked it or not; and all the
+cries of admiration her mother and Mrs. Tully uttered, when she put it
+on, were necessary to reassure her. Johanna was silent, and this
+unspoken disapproval irritated Ephie.
+
+"Why don't you say something, Joan?" she cried crossly. "I suppose you
+think it's homely?"
+
+"Frankly, I don't care for it much, dear. To my mind, it's overtrimmed."
+
+This was so precisely Ephie's own feeling that she was more annoyed
+than ever; she taunted Johanna with old-fashioned, countrified tastes;
+and, in spite of her mother's comforting assurances, retired in a pet
+to her own room.
+
+That afternoon, as they sat together at tea, Mrs. Cayhill, who for
+some time had considered Ephie fondly, said: "I can't understand you
+thinking she isn't well, Joan. I never saw her look better."
+
+Ephie went crimson. "Now what has Joan been saying about me?" she
+asked angrily.
+
+Johanna had left the table, and was reading on the sofa.
+
+"I only said what I repeated to yourself, Ephie. That I didn't think
+you were looking well."
+
+"Just fancy," said Mrs. Cayhill, laughing good-humouredly, "she was
+saying we ought to leave Leipzig and go to some strange place. Even
+back home to America. You don't want to go away, darling, do you?"
+
+"No, really, Joan is too bad," cried Ephie, with a voice in which
+tears and exasperation struggled for the mastery. "She always has some
+new fad in her head. She can't leave us alone--never! Let her go away,
+so she wants to. I won't. I'm happy here. I love being here. Even if
+you both go away, I shall stop."
+
+She got up from the table, and went to a window, where she stood
+biting her lips, and paying small attention to her mother's elaborate
+protests that she, too, had no intention of being moved.
+
+Johanna did not raise her eyes from her book. She could have wept: not
+only at the spirit of rebellious dislike, which was beginning to show
+more and more clearly in everything Ephie said. But was no one but
+herself awake to the change that was taking place in the child, day by
+day? She would write to her father, without delay, and make him insist
+on their returning to America.
+
+From the moment Maurice entered the room, she did not take her eyes
+off him; and, under her scrutiny, the young man soon grew nervous. He
+sat and fidgeted, and found nothing to say.
+
+Ephie was wayward: she did not think she wanted to go out; it
+looked like rain. Johanna refrained from interfering; but Maurice was
+most persistent: he begged Ephie not to disappoint him, and, when this
+failed, said angrily that she had no business to bring him there for
+such capricious whims. This treatment cowed Ephie; and she went at
+once to put on her hat and jacket.
+
+"He wants to speak to her; and she knows it; and is trying to avoid
+it," said Johanna to herself; and her heart beat fast for both of
+them. But she was alone with Maurice; she must not lose the chance of
+sounding him a little.
+
+"Where do you think of going for a walk?" she asked, and her voice had
+an odd tone to her ears.
+
+"Where? Oh, to the ROSENTAL--or the SCHEIBENHOLZ--or along the river.
+Anywhere. I don't know."
+
+She coughed. "Have you noticed anything strange about Ephie lately?
+She is not herself. I'm afraid she is not well."
+
+He had noticed nothing. But he did not face Johanna; and he held the
+photograph he was looking at upside down.
+
+She leaned out of the window to watch them walk along the street. At
+this moment, she was fully convinced of the correctness of her
+mother's assumption; and by the thought of what might take place
+within the next hour, she was much disturbed. During the rest of the
+afternoon, she found it impossible to settle to anything; and she
+wandered from one room to another, unable even to read. But it struck
+six, seven, eight o'clock; it was supper-time; and still Ephie had not
+come home. Mrs. Cayhill grew anxious, too, and Johanna strained her
+eyes, watching the dark street. At nine and at ten, she was pacing the
+room, and at eleven, after a messenger had been sent to Maurice's
+lodging and had found no one there she buttoned on her rain-cloak, to
+accompany one of the servants to the police-station.
+
+"Why did I let her go?--Oh, why did I let her go!"
+
+
+
+
+
+IV.
+
+
+
+Maurice and Ephie walked along the LESSINGSTRASSE without speaking--it
+was a dull, mild day, threatening to rain, as it had rained the whole
+of the preceding night. But Ephie was not accustomed to be silent; she
+found the stillness disconcerting, and before they had gone far, shot
+a furtive look at her companion. She did not intend him to see it; but
+he did, and turned to her. He cleared his throat, and seemed about to
+speak, then changed his mind. Something in his face, as she observed
+it more nearly, made Ephie change colour and give an awkward laugh.
+
+"I asked you before how you liked my hat," she said, with another
+attempt at the airiness which, to-day, she could not command. "And you
+didn't say. I guess you haven't looked at it. You're in such a hurry."
+
+Maurice turned his head; but he did not see the hat. Instead, he
+mentally answered a question Louise had put to him the day before, and
+which he had then not known how to meet. Yes, Ephie was pretty,
+radiantly pretty, with the fresh, unsullied charm of a flower just
+blown.
+
+"Joan was so stupid about it," she went on at random; her face still
+wore its uncertain smile. "She said it was overtrimmed, and top-heavy,
+and didn't become me. As if she ever wore anything that suited her!
+But Joan is an old maid. She hasn't a scrap of taste. And as for you,
+Maurice, why I just don't believe you know one hat from another. Men
+are so stupid."
+
+Again they went forward in silence.
+
+"You are tiresome to-day," she said at length, and looked at him with
+a touch of defiance, as a schoolgirl looks at the master with whom she
+ventures to remonstrate.
+
+"Yes, I'm a dull companion."
+
+"Knowing it doesn't make it any better."
+
+But she was not really cross; all other feelings were swallowed up by
+the uneasiness she felt at his manner of treating her.
+
+"Where are we going?" she suddenly demanded of him, with a
+little quick upward note in her voice. "This is not the way to the
+SCHEIBENHOLZ."
+
+"No." He had been waiting for the question. "Ephie,"--he cleared his
+throat anew. "I am taking you to see a friend--of mine."
+
+"Is that what you brought me out for? Then you didn't want to speak to
+me, as you said? Then we're not going for a walk?"
+
+"Afterwards, perhaps. It's like this. Some one I know has been very
+ill. Now that she is getting better, she needs rousing and cheering
+up, and that kind of thing; and I said I would bring you to call on
+her. She knows you by sight--and would like to know you personally," he
+added, with a lame effort at explanation.
+
+"Is that so?" said Ephie with sudden indifference; and her heart,
+which had begun to thump at the mention of a friend, quieted down at
+once. In fancy, she saw an elderly lady with shawls and a footstool,
+who had been attracted by her fresh young face; the same thing had
+happened to her before.
+
+Now, however, that she knew the object of their walk, she was greatly
+relieved, as if a near danger had been averted; but she had not taken
+many steps forward before she was telling herself that another hope
+was gone. The only thing to do was to take the matter into her own
+hands; it was now or never; and simply a question of courage.
+
+"Maurice, say, do many people go away from here in the fall?--leave
+the Con., I would say?" she asked abruptly. "I mean is this a time
+more people leave than in spring?"
+
+Maurice started; he had been lost in his own thoughts, which all
+centred round this meeting he had weakly agreed to arrange. Again and
+again he had tried to imagine how it would fall out. But he did not
+know Louise well enough to foresee how she would act; and the nearer
+the time came, the stronger grew his presentiment of trouble. His
+chief remaining hope was that there would be no open speaking, that
+Schilsky's name would not be mentioned; and plump into the midst of
+this hope fell Ephie's question. He turned on her; she coloured
+furiously, and walked into a pool of water; and, at this moment,
+everything was as clear to Maurice as though she had said: "Where is
+be? Why has he gone?"
+
+"Why do you ask?" he queried with unconscious sharpness. "No, Easter
+is the general time for leaving. But people who play in the
+PRUFUNGEN then, sometimes stay for the summer term. Why do you ask?"
+
+"Gracious, Maurice, how tiresome you are! Must one always say why? I
+only wanted to know. I missed people I used to see about, that's all."
+
+"Yes, a number have not come back."
+
+He was so occupied with what they were saying that he, in his turn,
+stepped into a puddle, splashing the water up over her shoe. Ephie was
+extremely annoyed.
+
+"Look!--look what you've done!" she cried, showing him her spikey
+little shoe. "Why don't you look where you're going? How clumsy you
+are!" and, in a sudden burst of illhumour: "I don't know why you're
+bringing me here. It's a horrid part of the city anyway. I didn't have
+any desire to come. I guess I'll turn back and go home."
+
+"We're almost there now."
+
+"I don't care. I don't want to go."
+
+"But you shall, all the same. What's the matter with you to-day that
+you don't know your own mind for two minutes together?"
+
+"You didn't inquire if I wanted to come. You're just horrid, Maurice."
+
+"And you're a capricious child."
+
+He quickened his pace, afraid she might still escape him; and Ephie
+had hard work to keep up with him. As she trotted along, a few steps
+behind, there arose in her a strong feeling of resentment against
+Maurice, which was all the stronger because she suspected that she was
+on the brink of hearing her worst suspicions confirmed. But she could
+not afford to yield to the feeling, when the last chance she had of
+getting definite information was passing from her. Knitting both hands
+firmly inside her muff, she asked, with an earnestness which, to one
+who knew, was fatally tale-telling: "Did anyone you were acquainted
+with leave, Maurice?"
+
+"Yes," said the young man at her side, with brusque determination. He
+remained untouched by the tone of appeal in which Ephie put the
+question; for he himself suffered under her continued hedging. "Yes,"
+he said, "some one did, and that was a man called Schilsky--a tall,
+red-haired fellow, a violinist. But he has only just gone. He came
+back after the vacation to settle his affairs, and say good-bye to his
+friends. Is there anything else you want to know?"
+
+He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth.
+After all, Ephie was such a child. He could not see her face, which
+was hidden by the brim of the big hat, but there was something
+pathetic in the line of her chin, and the droop of her arms and
+shoulders. She seemed to shrink under his words--to grow smaller. As he
+stood aside to let her pass before him, through the house-door in the
+BRUDERSTRASSE, he had a quick revulsion of feeling. Instead of being
+rough and cruel to her, he should have tried to win her confidence
+with brotherly kindness. But he had had room in his mind for nothing
+but the meeting with Louise, and now there was no more time; they were
+going up the stairs. All he could do was to say gently: "I ought to
+tell you, Ephie, that the person we are going to see has been very,
+very ill--and needs treating with the utmost consideration. I rely on
+your tact and good-feeling."
+
+But Ephie did not reply; the colour had left her face, and for once,
+the short upper-lip closed firmly on the lower one. For some minutes
+amazed anger with Maurice was all she felt. Then, however, came the
+knowledge of what his words meant: he knew--Maurice knew; he had seen
+through her fictions; he would tell on her; there would be dreadful
+scenes with Joan; there would be reproaches and recriminations; she
+would be locked up, or taken away. As for what lay beyond, his
+assertion that Schilsky had been there--had been and gone, without a
+word to her--that was a sickening possibility, which, at present, her
+mind could not grasp. She grew dizzy under these blows that rained
+down on her, one after the other. And meanwhile, she had to keep up
+appearances, to go on as though nothing had happened, when it seemed
+impossible even to drag herself to the top of the winding flight of
+stairs. She held her head down; there was a peculiar clicking in her
+throat, which she could not master; she felt at every step as if she
+would have to burst out crying.
+
+At the glass of the door, and at the wizened old face that appeared
+behind it, she looked with unseeing eyes; and she followed Maurice
+mechanically along the passage to a door at the end.
+
+In his agitation the young man forgot to knock; and as they entered, a
+figure sprang up from the sofa-corner, and made a few impulsive steps
+towards them.
+
+Maurice went over to Louise and took her hand.
+
+"I've brought her," he said in a low tone, and with a kind of appeal
+in voice and eyes, which he was not himself aware of. Louise
+answered the look, and went on looking at him, as if she were fearful
+of letting her eyes stray. Both turned at an exclamation from Ephie.
+She was still standing where Maurice had left her, close beside the
+door; but her face was flaming, and her right hand fumbled with the
+doorhandle.
+
+"Ephie!" said Maurice warningly. He was afraid she would turn the
+handle, and, going over to her, took her by the arm.
+
+"Say, Maurice, I'm going home," she said under her breath. "I can't
+stop here. Oh, why did you bring me?"
+
+"Ssh!--be a good girl, Ephie," he replied as though speaking to a
+child. "Come with me."
+
+An inborn politeness struggled with Ephie's dread. "I can't. I don't
+know her name," she whispered. But she let him draw her forward to
+where Louise was standing; and she held out her hand.
+
+"Miss--?" she said in a small voice, and waited for the name to be
+filled in.
+
+Louise had watched them whispering, with a stony fare, but, at Ephie's
+gesture, life came into it. Her eyes opened wide; and drawing back
+from the girl's outstretched hand, yet without seeming to see it, she
+turned with a hasty movement, and went over to the window, where she
+stood with her back to them.
+
+This was the last straw; Ephie dropped on a chair, and hiding her face
+in her hands, burst into the tears she had hitherto restrained. Her
+previous trouble was increased a hundredfold. For she had recognised
+Louise at once; she felt that she was in a trap; and the person who
+had entrapped her was Maurice. Holding a tiny lace handkerchief to her
+eyes, she sobbed as though her heart would break.
+
+"Don't cry, dear, don't cry," said the young man. "It's all right."
+But his thoughts were with Louise. He was apprehensive of what she
+might do next.
+
+As if in answer to his fear, she crossed the room.
+
+"Ask her to take her hands down. I want to see her face."
+
+Maurice bent over Ephie, and touched her shoulder.
+
+"Ephie, dear, do you hear? Look up, like a good girl, and speak to
+Miss Dufrayer."
+
+But Ephie shook off his hand.
+
+Over her bowed head, their eyes met; and the look Louise gave the
+young man was cold and questioning. He shrugged his shoulders:
+he could do nothing; and retreating behind the writing-table, he left
+the two girls to themselves.
+
+"Stand up, please," said Louise in an unfriendly voice; and as Ephie
+did not obey, she made a movement to take her by the wrists.
+
+"No, no!--don't touch me," cried Ephie, and rose in spite of herself.
+"What right have you to speak to me like this?"
+
+She could say no more, for, with a quick, unforeseen movement, Louise
+took the young girl's face in both hands, and turned it up. And after
+her first instinctive effort to draw back, Ephie kept still, like a
+fascinated rabbit, her eyes fixed on the dark face that looked down at
+her.
+
+Seconds passed into minutes; and the minutes seemed hours. Maurice
+watched, on the alert to intervene, if necessary.
+
+At the entrance of her visitors, Louise had been unable to see
+distinctly, so stupefied was she by the thought that the person on
+whom her thoughts had run, with a kind of madness, for more than
+forty-eight hours, was actually in the room beside her--it was just as
+though a nightmare phantom had taken bodily form. And then, too,
+though she had spent each of these hours in picturing to herself what
+this girl would be like, the reality was so opposed to her imagining
+that, at first, she could not reconcile the differences.
+
+Now she forced herself to see every line of the face. Nothing escaped
+her. She saw how loosened tendrils of hair on neck and forehead became
+little curls; saw the finely marked brows, and the dark blue veins at
+the temples; the pink and white colouring of the cheeks; the small
+nose, modelled as if in wax; the fascinating baby mouth, with its
+short upper-lip. Like most dark, sallow women, whose own brief
+freshness is past, the elder girl passionately admired such
+may-blossom beauty, as something belonging to a different race from
+herself. And this was not all: as she continued to look into Ephie's
+face, she ceased to be herself; she became the man whose tastes she
+knew better than her own; she saw with his eyes, felt with his senses.
+She pictured Ephie's face, arch and smiling, lifted to his; and she
+understood and excused his weakness. He had not been able to help what
+had happened: this was the prettiness that drew him in, the kind he
+had invariably turned to look back at, in the street--something fair
+and round, adorably small and young, something to be petted and
+protected, that clung, and was childishly subordinate. For her dark
+sallowness, for her wilful mastery, he had only had a passing fancy.
+She was not his type, and she knew it. But to have known it
+vaguely, when it did not matter, and to know it at a moment like the
+present, were two different things.
+
+In a burst of despair she let her arms fall to her sides; but her
+insatiable eyes gazed on; and Ephie, though she was now free, did not
+stir, but remained standing, with her face raised, in a silly
+fascination. And the eyes, having taken in the curves of cheeks and
+chin, and the soft white throat, passed to the rounded, drooping
+shoulders, to the plumpness of the girlish figure, embracing the whole
+body in their devouring gaze. Ephie went hot and cold beneath them;
+she felt as if her clothes were being stripped from her, and she left
+standing naked. Louise saw the changing colour, and interpreted it in
+her own way. His--all his! He was not the mortal--she knew it only too
+well--to have this flower within his reach, and not clutch at it,
+instinctively, as a child clutches at sunbeams. It would riot have
+been in nature for him to do otherwise than take, greedily, without
+reflection. At the thought of it, a spasm of jealousy caught her by
+the throat; her hanging hands trembled to hurt this infantile
+prettiness, to spoil these lips that had been kissed by his.
+
+Maurice was at her side. "Don't hurt her," he said, and did not know
+how the words came to his lips.
+
+The spell was broken. The unnatural expression died out of her face;
+she was tired and apathetic.
+
+"Hurt her?" she repeated faintly. "No, don't be afraid. I shall not
+hurt her. But if I beat her with ropes till all my strength was gone,
+I couldn't hurt her as she has hurt me."
+
+"Hush! Don't say such things."
+
+"I? I hurt you?" said Ephie, and began to cry afresh. "How could I? I
+don't even know you."
+
+"No, you don't know me; and yet you have done me the cruellest wrong."
+
+"Oh, no, no," sobbed Ephic. "No, indeed!"
+
+"He was all I had--all I cared for. And you plotted, and planned, and
+stole him from me--with your silly baby face."
+
+"It's not true," wept Ephie. "How could I? I didn't know anything
+about you. He . . . he never spoke of you."
+
+Louise laughed. "Oh, I can believe that! And you thought, didn't you,
+you poor little fool, that he only cared for you? That was why my name
+was never mentioned. He didn't need to scheme, and contrive, and lie,
+lie abominably, for fear I should come to hear what he was doing!"
+
+"No, indeed," sobbed Ephie. "Never! And you've no right to say
+such things of him."
+
+"I no right?" Louise drew herself up. "No right to say what I like of
+him? Are you going to tell me what I shall say and what I shan't of
+the man I loved?--yes, and who loved me, too, but in a way you couldn't
+understandyou who think all you have to do is to smile your silly
+smile, and spoil another person's life. You didn't know, no, of course
+not!--didn't know this was his room as well as mine. Look, his music is
+still lying on the piano; that's the chair he sat in, not many days
+ago; here," she took Ephie by the shoulder and drew her behind the
+screen, where a small door, papered like the wall, gave, direct from
+the stair-head, a second entrance to the room--" here's the door he
+came in at.--For he came as he liked, whenever he chose."
+
+"It's not true; it can't be true," said Ephie, and raised her
+tear-stained face defiantly. "We are engaged--since the summer. He's
+coming back to marry me soon."
+
+"He's coming back to marry you!" echoed Louise in a blank voice. "He's
+coming back to marry you!"
+
+She moved a few steps away, and stood by the writing-table, looking
+dazed, as if she did not understand. Then she laughed.
+
+Ephie cried with renewed bitterness. "I want to go home."
+
+But Maurice did not pay any attention to her. He was watching Louise,
+with a growing dismay. For she continued to laugh, in a breathless
+way, with a catch in the throat, which made the laughter sound like
+sobbing. On his approaching her, she tried to check herself, but
+without success. She wiped her lips, and pressed her handkerchief to
+them, then took the handkerchief between her teeth and bit it. She
+crossed to the window, and stood with her back to the others; but she
+could not stop laughing. She went behind the low, broad screen that
+divided the room, and sat down on the edge of the bed; but still she
+had to laugh on. She came out again into the other part of the room,
+and saw Maurice pale and concerned, and Ephie's tears dried through
+pure fear; but the sight of these two made her laugh more violently
+than before. She held her face in her hands, and pressed her jaws
+together as though she would break them; for they shook with a nervous
+convulsion. Her whole body began to shake, with the efforts she made
+at repression.
+
+Ephie cowered in her seat. "Oh, Maurice, let us go. I'm so afraid,"
+she implored him.
+
+"Don't be frightened! It's all right." But he was following
+Louise about the room, entreating her to regain the mastery of
+herself. When he did happen to notice Ephie more closely, he said: "Go
+downstairs, and wait for me there. I'll come soon."
+
+Ephie did not need twice telling: she turned and fled. He heard the
+hall-door bang behind her.
+
+"Do try to control yourself. Miss Dufrayer--Louise! Every one in the
+house will hear you."
+
+But she only laughed the more. And now the merest trifles helped to
+increase the paroxysm--the way Maurice worked his hands, Ephie's muff
+lying forgotten on a chair, the landlady's inquisitive face peering in
+at the door. The laugh continued, though it had become a kind of
+cackle--a sound without tone. Maurice could bear it no longer. He went
+up to her and tried to take her hands. She repulsed him, but he was
+too strong for her. He took both her hands in his, and pressed her
+down on a chair. He was not clear himself what to do next; but, the
+moment he touched her, the laughter ceased. She gasped for breath; he
+thought she would choke, and let her hands go again. She pressed them
+to her throat; her breath came more and more quickly; her eyes closed;
+and falling forward on her knees, she hid her face in the cushioned
+seat of the sofa.
+
+Then the tears came, and what tears! In all his life, Maurice had
+never heard crying like this. He moved as far away from her as he
+could, stood at the window, staring out and biting his lips, while she
+sobbed, regardless of his presence, with the utter abandon of a child.
+Like a child, too, she wept rebelliously, unchastenedly, as he could
+not have believed it possible for a grown person to cry. Such grief as
+this, so absolute a despair, had nothing to do with reason or the
+reasoning faculties; and the words were not invented that would be
+able to soothe it.
+
+But, little by little, a change came over her crying. The rebellion
+died out of it; it grew duller, and more blunted, hopeless, without
+life. Her strength was almost gone. Now, however, there was another
+note of childishness in it, that of complete exhaustion, which it is
+so hard to hear. The tears rose to his own eyes; he would have liked
+to go to her, to lay his hand on her head, and treat her tenderly, to
+make her cease and be happy once more; but he did not dare. Had he
+done so, she might not have repelled him; for, in all intensely
+passionate grief, there comes a moment of subsidence, when the
+grief and its origin are forgotten, and the one overruling desire is
+the desire to be comforted, no matter who the comforter and what his
+means, so long as they are masterful and strong.
+
+She grew calmer; and soon she was only shaken at widening intervals by
+a sob. Then these, too, ceased, and Maurice held his breath. But as,
+after a considerable time had elapsed, she still lay without making
+sound or movement, he crossed the room to look at her. She was fast
+asleep, half sitting, half lying, with her head on the cushions, and
+the tears wet on her cheeks. He hesitated between a wish to see her in
+a more comfortable position, and an unwillingness to disturb her.
+Finally, he took an eider-down quilt from the bed, and wrapped it
+round her; then slipped noiselessly from the room.
+
+It was past eight o'clock.
+
+
+* * * * *
+
+
+Ephie ran down the stairs as if a spectre were at her heels, and even
+when in the street, did not venture to slacken her speed. Although the
+dusk was rapidly passing into dark, a good deal of notice was
+attracted by the sight of a well-dressed young girl running along,
+holding a handkerchief to her face, and every now and then emitting a
+loud sob. People stood and stared after her, and some little boys ran
+with her. Instead of dropping her pace when she saw this, Ephie grew
+confused, and ran more quickly than before. She had turned at random,
+on coming out of the house; and she was in a part of the town she did
+not know. In her eagerness to get away from people, she took any turn
+that offered; and after a time she found that she had crossed the
+river, and was on what was almost a country road. A little further
+off, she knew, lay the woods; if once she were in their shelter, she
+would be safe; and, without stopping to consider that night was
+falling, she ran towards them at full speed. On the first seat she
+came to she sank breathless and exhausted.
+
+Her first sensation was one of relief at being alone. She unpinned and
+took off the big, heavy hat, and laid it on the seat beside her, in
+order to be more at her case; and then she cried, heartily, and
+without precautions, enjoying to the full the luxury of being
+unwatched and unheard. Since teatime, she seemed to have been fighting
+her tears, exercising a self-restraint that was new to her and
+very hard; and not to-day alone--oh, no, for weeks past, she had been
+obliged to act a part. Not even in her bed at night had she been free
+to indulge her grief; for, if she cried then, it made her pale and
+heavy-eyed next day, and exposed her to Joan's comments. And there
+were so many things to cry about: all the emotional excitement of the
+summer, with its ups and downs of hope and fear; the never-ceasing
+need of dissimulation; the gnawing uncertainty caused by Schilsky's
+silence; the growing sense of blankness and disappointment; Joan's
+suspicions; Maurice's discovery; the knowledge that Schilsky had gone
+away without a word to her; and, worst of all, and most inexplicable,
+the terrible visit of the afternoon--at the remembrance of the madwoman
+she had escaped from, Ephie's tears flowed with renewed vigour. Her
+handkerchief was soaked and useless; she held her fur tippet across
+her eyes to receive the tears as they fell; and when this grew too
+wet, she raised the skirt of her dress to her face. Not a sound was to
+be heard but her sobbing; she was absolutely alone; and she wept on
+till those who cared for her, whose chief wish was to keep grief from
+her, would hardly have recognized in her the child they loved.
+
+How long she had been there she did not know, when she was startled to
+her feet by a loud rustling in the bushes behind her. Then, of a
+sudden, she became aware that it was pitch-dark, and that she was all
+by herself in the woods. She took to her heels, in a panic of fear,
+and did not stop running till the street-lamps came into sight. When
+she was under their friendly shine, and could see people walking on
+the other side of the river, she remembered that she had left her hat
+lying on the seat. At this fresh misfortune, she began to cry anew.
+But not for anything in the world would she have ventured back to
+fetch it.
+
+She crossed the Pleisse and came to a dark, quiet street, where few
+people were; and here she wandered up and down. It was late; at home
+they would be sitting at supper now, exhausting themselves in
+conjectures where she could be. Ephie was very hungry, and at the
+thought of the warmth and light of the supper-table, a lump rose in
+her throat. If it had been only her mother, she might have faced
+her--but Joan! Home in this plight, at this hour, hatless, and with
+swollen face, to meet Joan's eyes and questions!--she shivered at the
+idea. Moreover, the whole PENSION would get to know what had
+happened to her; she would need to bear inquisitive. looks and words;
+she would have to explain, or, still worse, to invent and tell stories
+again; and of what use were they now, when all was over? A feeling of
+lassitude overcame her--an inability to begin fresh. All over: he would
+never put his arm round her again, never come towards her, careless
+and smiling, and call her his "little, little girl."
+
+She sobbed to herself as she walked. Everything was bleak, and black,
+and cheerless. She would perhaps die of the cold, and then all of
+them, Joan in particular, would be filled with remorse. She stood and
+looked at the inky water of the river between its stone walls. She had
+read of people drowning themselves; what if she went down the steps
+and threw herself in?--and she feebly fingered at the gate. But it was
+locked and chained; and at the idea of her warm, soft body touching
+the icy water; at the picture of herself lying drowned, with dank
+hair, or, like the Christian Martyr, floating away on the surface; at
+the thought of their grief, of HIM wringing his hands over her corpse,
+she was so moved that she wept aloud again, and amost ran to be out of
+temptation's way.
+
+It had begun to drizzle. Oh, how tired she was! And she was obliged
+constantly to dodge impertinently staring men. In a long, wide street,
+she entered a door-way that was not quite so dark as the others, and
+sat down on the bottom step of the stairs. Here she must have dozed,
+for she was roused by angry voices on the floor above. It sounded like
+some one who was drunk; and she fled trembling back to the street.
+
+A neighbouring clock struck ten. At this time of night, she could not
+go home, even though she wished to. She was wandering the streets like
+any outcast, late at night, without a hat--and her condition of
+hatlessness she felt to be the chief stigma. But she was starving with
+hunger, and so tired that she could scarcely drag one foot after the
+other. Oh, what would they say if they knew what their poor little
+Ephie was enduring! Her mother--Joan---Maurice!
+
+Maurice! The thought of him came to her like a ray of light. It was to
+Maurice she would turn. He would be good to her, and help her; he had
+always been kind to her, till this afternoon. And he knew what had
+happened; it would not be necessary to explain.--Oh, Maurice, Maurice!
+
+She knew his address, if she could but find the street. A droschke
+passed, and she tried to hail it; but she did not like to
+advance too far out of the shadow, on account of her bare head.
+Finally, plucking up courage, she inquired the way of a feather-hatted
+woman, who had eyed her with an inquisitive stare.
+
+It turned out that the BRAUSTRASSE was just round the corner; she had
+perhaps been in the street already, without knowing it; and now she
+found it, and the house, without difficulty. The street-door was still
+open; or she would never have been bold enough to ring.
+
+The stair was poorly lighted, and full of unsavoury smells. In her
+agitation, Ephie rang on a wrong floor, and a strange man answered her
+timid inquiry. She climbed a flight higher, and rang again. There was
+a long and ominous pause, in which her heart beat fast; if Maurice did
+not live here either, she would drop where she stood. She was about to
+ring a second time, when felt slippers and an oil lamp moved along the
+passage, the glass window was opened, and a woman's face peered out at
+her. Yes, Herr Guest lived there, certainly, said Frau Krause, divided
+between curiosity and indignation at having to rise from bed; and she
+held the lamp above her head, in order to see Ephie better. But he was
+not at home, and, even if he were, at this hour of night . . . The
+heavy words shuffled along, giving the voracious eyes time to devour.
+
+At the thought that her request might be denied her, Ephie's courage
+took its last leap.
+
+"Why, I must see him. I have something important to tell him. Could I
+not wait?" she urged in her broken German, feeling unspeakably small
+and forlorn. And yielding to a desire to examine more nearly the bare,
+damp head and costly furs, Frau Krause allowed the girl to pass before
+her into Maurice's room.
+
+She loitered as long as she could over lighting the lamp that stood on
+the table; and meanwhile threw repeated glances at Ephie, who, having
+given one look round the shabby room, sank into a corner of the sofa
+and hid her face: the coarse browed woman, in petticoat and
+night-jacket, seemed to her capable of robbery or murder. And so Frau
+Krause unwillingly withdrew, to await further developments outside:
+the holy, smooth-faced Herr Guest was a deep one, after all.
+
+When Maurice entered, shortly before eleven, Ephie started up from a
+broken sleep. He came in pale and disturbed, for Frau Krause had met
+him in the passage with angry mutterings about a FRAUENZIMMER in his
+room; and his thoughts had at once leaped fearfully to Louise.
+When he saw Ephie, he uttered a loud exclamation of surprise.
+
+"Good Lord, Ephie! What on earth are you doing here?"
+
+She sprang at his hands, and caught her breath hysterically.
+
+"Oh, Morry, you've come at last. Oh, I thought you would never come.
+Where have you been? Oh, Morry, help me--help me, or I shall die!"
+
+"Whatever is the matter? What are you doing here?"
+
+At his perturbed amazement, she burst into tears, still clinging fast
+to his hands. He led her back to the sofa, from which she had sprung.
+
+"Hush, hush! Don't cry like that. What's the matter, child? Tell me
+what it is--at once--and let me help you."
+
+"Oh, yes, Morry, help me, help me! There's no one else. I didn't know
+where to go. Oh, what shall I do!"
+
+Her own words sounded so pathetic that she sobbed piteously. Maurice
+stroked her hand, and waited for her to grow quieter. But now that she
+had laid the responsibility of herself on other shoulders, Ephie was
+quite unnerved: after the dark and fearful wanderings of the evening,
+to be beside some one who knew, who would take care of her, who would
+tell her what to do!
+
+She sobbed and sobbed. Only with perseverance did Maurice draw from
+her, word by word, an account of where she had been that evening,
+broken by such cries as: "Oh, what shall I do! I can't ever go home
+again--ever! . . . and I lost my hat. Oh, Morry, Morry! And I didn't
+know he had gone away--and it wasn't true what I said, that he was
+coming back to marry me soon.. I only said it to spite her, because
+she said such dreadful things to me. But we were engaged, all the
+same; he said he would come to New York to marry me. And now . . . oh,
+dear, oh, Morry! . . ."
+
+"Then he really promised to marry you, did he?"
+
+"Yes, oh, yes. Everything was fixed. The last day I was there," she
+wept. "But I didn't know he was going away; he never said a word about
+it. Oh, what shall I do! Go after him, and bring him back, Morry. He
+must come back. He can't leave me like this, he can't--oh, no, indeed!"
+
+"You don't mean to say you went to see him, Ephie?--alone?--at his
+room?" queried Maurice slowly, and he did not know how sternly. "When?
+How often? Tell me everything. This is no time for fibbing."
+
+But he could make little of Ephie's sobbed and hazy version of the
+story; she herself could not remember clearly now; the
+impressions of the last few hours had been so intense as to obliterate
+much of what had gone before. "I thought I would drown myself . . .
+but the water was so black. Oh, why did you take me to that dreadful
+woman? Did you hear what she said? It wasn't true, was it? Oh, it
+can't be!"
+
+"It was quite true, Ephie. What he told YOU wasn't true. He never
+really cared for anyone but her. They were--were engaged for years."
+
+At this, she wept so heart-rendingly that he was afraid Frau Krause
+would come in and interfere.
+
+"You MUST control yourself. Crying won't alter things now. If you had
+been frank and candid with us, it would never have happened." This was
+the only reproach he could make her; what came after was Johanna's
+business, not his. "And now I'm going to take you home. It's nearly
+twelve o'clock. Think of the state your mother and sister will be in
+about you."
+
+But at the mention of Johanna, Ephie flung herself on the sofa again
+and beat the cushions with her hands.
+
+"Not Joan, not Joan!" she wailed. "No, I won't go home. What will she
+say to me? Oh, I am so frightened! She'll kill me, I know she will."
+And at Maurice's confident assurance that Johanna would have nothing
+but love and sympathy for her, she shook her head. "I know Joan.
+She'll never forgive me. Morry, let me stay with you. You've always
+been kind to me. Oh, don't send me away!"
+
+"Don't be a silly child, Ephie. You know yourself you can't stay
+here."
+
+But he gave up urging her, coaxed her to lie down, and sat beside her,
+stroking her hair. As he said no more, she gradually ceased to sob,
+and in what seemed to the young man an incredibly short time, he heard
+from her breathing that she was asleep. He covered her up, and stood a
+sheet of music before the lamp, to shade her eyes. In the passage he
+ran up against Frau Krause, whom he charged to prevent Ephie in the
+event of her attempting to leave the house.
+
+Buttoning up his coat-collar, he hastened through the mistlike rain to
+fetch Johanna.
+
+There was a light in every window of the PENSION in the
+LESSINGSTRASSE; the street-door and both doors of the flat stood open.
+As he mounted the stairs a confused sound of voices struck his car;
+and when he entered the passage, he heard Mrs. Cayhill crying noisily.
+Johanna came out to him at once; she was in hat and cloak. She
+listened stonily to his statement that Ephie was safe at his lodgings,
+and put no questions; but, on her returning to the sitting-room, Mrs.
+Cayhill's sobs stopped abruptly, and several women spoke at once.
+
+Johanna preserved her uncompromising attitude as they walked the
+midnight streets. But as Maurice made no mien to explain matters
+further, she so far conquered her aversion as to ask: "What have you
+done to her?"
+
+The young man's consternation at this view of the case was so evident
+that even she felt the need of wording her question differently.
+
+"Answer me. What is Ephie doing at your rooms?"
+
+Maurice cleared his throat. "It's a long and unpleasant story, Miss
+Cayhill. And I'm afraid I must tell it from the beginning.--You didn't
+suspect, I fear, that . . . well, that Ephie had a fancy for some one
+here?"
+
+At these words, which were very different from those she had expected,
+Johanna eyed him in astonishment.
+
+"A fancy!" she repeated incredulously. "What do you mean?"
+
+"Even more--an infatuation," said Maurice with deliberation. "And for
+some one I daresay you have never even heard of--a...a man here, a
+violinist, called Schilsky."
+
+The elaborate fabric she had that day reared, fell together about
+Johanna's ears. She stared at Maurice as if she doubted his sanity;
+and she continued to listen, with the same icy air of disbelief, to
+his stammered and ineffectual narrative, until he said that he
+believed "it" had been "going on since summer."
+
+At this Johanna laughed aloud. "That is quite impossible," she said.
+"I knew everything Ephie did, and everywhere she went."
+
+"She met him nearly every day. They exchanged letters, and-----"
+
+"It is impossible," repeated Johanna with vehemence, but less surely.
+
+"----and a sort of engagement seems to have existed between them."
+
+"And you knew this and never said a word to me?"
+
+"I didn't know--not till to-night. I only suspected something--once . . .
+long ago. And l couldn't--I mean--one can't say a thing like that
+without being quite sure----"
+
+But here he broke down, conscious, as never before, of the negligence
+he had been guilty of towards Ephie. And Johanna was not
+likely to spare him: there was, indeed, a bitter antagonism to his
+half-hearted conduct in the tone in which she said: "I stood to Ephie
+in a mother's place. You might have warned me--oh, you might, indeed!"
+
+They walked on in silence--a hard, resentful silence. Then Johanna put
+the question he was expecting to hear.
+
+"And what has all this to do with to-night?"
+
+Maurice took up the thread of his narrative again, telling how Ephie
+had waited vainly for news since returning from Switzerland, and how
+she had only learnt that afternoon that Schilsky had been in Leipzig,
+and had gone away again, without seeing her, or letting her know that
+he did not intend to return.
+
+"And how did she hear it?"
+
+"At a friend's house."
+
+"What friend?"
+
+"A friend of mine, a--No; I had better be frank with you: the girl
+this fellow was engaged to for a year or more."
+
+"And Ephie did not know that?"
+
+He shook his head.
+
+"But you knew, and yet took her there?"
+
+It was a hopeless job to try to exonerate himself. "Yes, there were
+reasons--I couldn't help it, in fact. But I'm afraid I should not be
+able to make you understand."
+
+"No, never!" retorted Johanna, and squared her shoulders.
+
+But there was more to be said--she had worse to learn before Ephie was
+handed over to her care.
+
+"And Ephie has been very foolish," he began anew, without looking at
+her. "It seems--from what she has told me tonight--that she has been to
+see this man . . . been at his rooms . . . more than once."
+
+At first, he was certain, Johanna did not grasp the meaning of what he
+said; she turned a blank face curiously to him. But, a moment later,
+she gave a low cry, and hardly able to form the words for excitement,
+asked: "Who . . . what . . . what kind of a man was he--this . . .
+Schilsky?"
+
+"Rotten," said Maurice; and she did not press him further. He heard
+her breath coming quickly, and saw the kind of stiffening that went
+through her body; but she kept silence, and did not speak again till
+they were almost at his house-door. Then she said, in a voice that was
+hoarse with feeling: "It has been all my fault. I did not take proper
+care of her. I was blind and foolish. And I shall never be able to
+forgive myself for it--never. But that Ephic--my little
+Ephie--the child I--that Ephie could . . . could do a thing like
+this . . ." Her voice tailed off in a sob.
+
+Maurice struck matches, to light her up the dark staircase; and the
+condition of the stairs, the disagreeable smells, the poverty of wall
+and door revealed, made Johanna's heart sink still further: to
+surroundings such as these had Ephie accustomed herself. They entered
+without noise; everything was just as Maurice had left it, except that
+the lamp had burned too high and filled the room with its fumes. As
+Johanna paused, undecided what to do, Ephie started up, and, at the
+sight of her sister, burst into loud cries of fear. Hiding her face,
+she sobbed so alarmingly that Johanna did not venture to approach her.
+She remained standing beside the table, one thin, ungloved hand
+resting on it, while Maurice bent over Ephie and tried to soothe her.
+
+"Please fetch a droschke," Johanna said grimly, as Ephie's sobs showed
+no signs of abating; and when, after a lengthy search in the night,
+Maurice returned, she was standing in the same position, staring with
+drawn, unblinking eyes at the smoky lamp, which no one had thought of
+lowering. Ephie was still crying, and only Maurice might go near her.
+He coaxed her to rise, wrapped his rug round her, and carried her,
+more than he led her, down the stairs.
+
+"Be good enough to drive home with us," said Johanna. And so he sat
+with his arm round Ephie, who pressed her face against his shoulder,
+while the droschke jolted over the cobbled streets, and Johanna held
+herself pale and erect on the opposite seat. She mounted the stairs in
+front of them. Ephie was limp and heavy going up; but no sooner did
+she catch sight of Mrs. Cayhill than, with a cry, she rushed from the
+young man's side, and threw herself into her mother's arms.
+
+"Oh, mummy, mummy!"
+
+Downstairs, in the rain-soaked street, Maurice found the
+droschke-driver waiting for his fare. It only amounted to a couple of
+marks, and it was no doubt a just retribution for what had happened
+that he should be obliged to lay it out; but, none the less, it seemed
+like the last straw--the last dismal touch--in a day of forlorn
+discomfort.
+
+
+
+
+V.
+
+
+
+A few weeks later, a great variety of cabin-trunks and saratogas
+blocked the corridor of the PENSION. The addresses they bore were in
+Johanna's small, pointed handwriting.
+
+On this, the last afternoon of the Cayhills' stay in Leipzig, Maurice
+saw Johanna again for the first time. She had had her hands full. In
+the woods, on that damp October night, and on her subsequent
+wanderings, Ephie had caught a severe cold; and the doctor had feared
+an inflammation of the lungs. This had been staved off; but there was
+also, it seemed, a latent weakness of the chest, hitherto unsuspected,
+which kept them anxious. Ephie still had a dry, grating cough, which
+was troublesome at night, and left her tired and fretful by day. They
+were travelling direct to the South of France, where they intended to
+remain until she had quite recovered her strength.
+
+Maurice sat beside Johanna on the deep sofa where he and Ephie had
+worked at harmony together. But the windows of the room were shut now,
+and the room itself looked unfamiliar; for it had been stripped of all
+the trifles and fancy things that had given it such a comfortable,
+home-like air, and was only the bare, lodging-house room once more.
+Johanna was as self-possessed as of old, a trifle paler, a trifle
+thinner of lip.
+
+She told him that they intended leaving quietly the next morning,
+without partings or farewells. Ephie was still weak and the less
+excitement she had to undergo, the better it would be for her.
+
+"Then I shall not see Ephie again?" queried Maurice in surprise.
+
+Johanna thought not: it would only recall the unhappy night to her
+memory; besides, she had not asked to see him, as she no doubt would
+have done, had she wished it.--At this, the eleventh hour, Johanna did
+not think it worth while to tell Maurice that Ephie bore him an
+unalterable grudge.
+
+"I never want to see him again."
+
+That was all she said to Johanna; but, during her illness, she had
+brooded long over his treachery. And even if things had come all right
+in the end, she would never have been able to forgive his
+speaking to her of Schilsky in the way he had done. No, she was
+finished with Maurice Guest; he was too double-faced, too deceitful
+for her.--And she cried bitterly, with her face turned to the wall.
+
+The young man could not but somewhat lamely agree with Johanna that it
+was better to let the matter end thus: for he felt that towards the
+Cayhills he had been guilty of a breach of trust such as it is
+difficult to forgive. At the same time, he was humanly hurt that Ephie
+would not even say good-bye to him.
+
+He asked their further plans, and learnt that as soon as Ephie was
+well again, they would sail for New York.
+
+"My father has cabled twice for us."
+
+Johanna's manner was uncompromisingly dry and short. After her last
+words, there was a long pause, and Maurice made a movement to rise.
+But she put out her hand and detained him.
+
+"There is something I should like to say to you." And thereupon, with
+the abruptness of a nervous person: "When I have seen my sister and
+mother safe back, I intend leaving home myself. I am going to
+Harvard."
+
+Maurice realised that the girl was telling him a fact of considerable
+importance to herself, and did his best to look interested.
+
+"Really? That's always been a wish of yours, hasn't it?"
+
+"Yes." Johanna coloured, hesitated as he had never known her to do,
+then burst out: "And now there is nothing in the way of it." She drew
+her thumb across the leaf-corners of a book that was lying on the
+table. "Oh, I know what you will say: how, now that Ephie has turned
+out to be weak and untrustworthy, there is all the more reason for me
+to remain with her, to look after her. But that is not possible." She
+faced him sharply, as though he had contradicted her. "I am incapable
+of pretending to be the same when my feelings have changed; and, as I
+told you--as I knew that night--I shall never be able to feel for Ephie
+as I did before. I am ready, as I said, to take all the blame for what
+has happened; I was blind and careless. But if the care and affection
+of years count for nothing; if I have been so little able to win her
+confidence; if, indeed, I have only succeeded in making her dislike
+me, by my care of her, so that when she is in trouble, she turns from
+me, instead of to me--why, then I have failed lamentably in what I had
+made the chief duty of my life."
+
+"Besides," she continued more quietly, "there is another reason:
+Ephie is going to fall a victim to her nerves. I see that; and
+my poor, foolish mother is doing her best to foster it.--You smile?
+Only because you do not understand what it means. It is no laughing
+matter. If an American woman once becomes conscious of her nerves,
+then Heaven help her!--Now I am not of a disinterested enough nature to
+devote myself to sick-nursing where there is no real sickness. And
+then, too, my mother intends taking a French maid back with her, and a
+person of that class will perform such duties much more competently
+than I."
+
+She spoke with bitterness. Maurice mumbled some words of sympathy,
+wondering why she should choose to say these things to him.
+
+"Even at home my place is filled," continued Johanna. "The housekeeper
+who was appointed during our absence has been found so satisfactory
+that she will continue in the post after our return. Everywhere, you
+see, I have proved superfluous. There, as here."
+
+"I'm sure you're mistaken," said Maurice with more warmth. "And, Miss
+Joan, there's something I should like to say, if I may. Don't you
+think you take what has happened here a little too seriously? No doubt
+Ephie behaved foolishly. But was it after all any more than a girlish
+escapade?"
+
+"Too seriously?"
+
+Johanna turned her shortsighted eyes on the young man, and gazed at
+him almost pityingly. How little, oh, how little, she said to herself,
+one mortal knew and could know of another, in spite of the medium of
+speech, in spite of common experiences! Some of the nights at the
+beginning of Ephie's illness returned vividly to her mind, nights,
+when she, Johanna, had paced her room by the hour, filled with a
+terrible dread, a numbing uncertainty, which she would sooner have
+died than have let cross her lips. She had borne it quite alone, this
+horrible fear; her mother had been told of the whole affair only what
+it was absolutely necessary for her to know. And, naturally enough,
+the young man who now sat at her side, being a man, could not be
+expected to understand. But the consciousness of her isolation made
+Johanna speak with renewed harshness.
+
+"Too seriously?" she repeated. "Oh, I think not. The girlish escapade,
+as you call it, was the least of it. If that had been all, if it had
+only been her infatuation for some one who was unworthy of
+her, I could have forgiven Ephie till seventy times seven. But, after
+all these years, after the way I have loved her--no, idolised her!--for
+her to treat me as she did--do you think it possible to take that too
+seriously? There was no reason she should not have had her little
+secrets. If she had let me see that something was going on, which she
+did not want to tell me about, do you think I should have forced her?"
+--and Johanna spoke in all good faith, forgetful of how she had been
+used to clip and doctor Ephie's sentiments. "But that she could
+deceive me wilfully, and lie so lightly, with a smile, when, all the
+time, she was living a double life, one to my face and one behind my
+back--that I cannot forgive. Something has died in me that I used to
+feel for her. I could never trust her again, and where there is no
+trust there can be no real love."
+
+"She didn't understand what she was doing. She is so young."
+
+"Just for that reason. So young, and so skilled in deceit. That is
+hardest of all, even to think of: that she could wear her dear
+innocent face, while behind it, in her brain, were cold, calculating
+thoughts how she could best deceive me! If there had been but a single
+sign to waken my suspicions, then, yes, then I could have forgiven
+her," said Johanna, and again forgot how often of late she had been
+puzzled by the subtle change in Ephie. "If I could just know that, in
+spite of her efforts, she had been too candid to succeed!"
+
+She had unburdened herself and it had been a relief to her, but
+nothing could be helped or mended. Both knew this, and after a few
+polite questions about her future plans and studies, Maurice rose to
+take his leave.
+
+"Say good-bye to them both for me, and give Ephie my love."
+
+"I will. I think she will be sorry afterwards that she did not see
+you. She has always liked you."
+
+"Good-bye then. Or perhaps it is only AUF WIEDERSEHEN?"
+
+"I hardly think so." Johanna had returned to her usual sedate manner.
+"If I do visit Europe again, it will not be for five or six years at
+least."
+
+"And that's a long time. Who knows where I may be, by then!"
+
+He held Johanna's hand in his, and saw her gauntly slim figure
+outlined against the bare sitting-room. It was not likely that they
+would ever meet again. But he could not summon up any very
+lively feelings of regret. Johanna had not touched him deeply; she had
+left him as cool as he had no doubt left her; neither had found the
+key to the other. Her chief attraction for him had been her devotion
+to Ephie; and now, having been put to the test, this was found
+wanting. She had been wounded in her own pride and self-love, and
+could not forgive. At heart she was no more generous and unselfish
+than the rest.
+
+He repeated farewell messages as he stood in the passage. Johanna held
+the front door open for him, and, as he went down the stairs, he heard
+it close behind him, with that extreme noiselessness that was
+characteristic of Johanna's treatment of it.
+
+The following morning, shortly after ten o'clock, a train steamed out
+of the THURINGER BAHNHOF, carrying the Cayhills with it. The day was
+misty and cheerless, and none of the three travellers turned her head
+to give the town a parting glance. They left unattended, without
+flowers or other souvenirs, without any of the demonstratively
+pathetic farewells, the waving of hats, and crowding about the
+carriage-door, which one of the family, at least, had connected
+inseverably with their departure. And thus Ephie's musical studies
+came to an abrupt and untimely end.
+
+
+* * * * *
+
+
+"My faith in women is shattered. I shall never believe in a woman
+again."
+
+Dove paced the floor of Maurice's room with long and steady strides,
+beneath which a particular board creaked at intervals. His voice was
+husky, and the ruddiness of his cheeks had paled.
+
+At the outset of Ephie's illness, Dove had called every morning at the
+PENSION, to make inquiries and to leave his regards. But when the
+story leaked out, as it soon did, in an exaggerated and distorted
+form, he straightway ceased his visits. Thus he was wholly unprepared
+for the family's hurried departure, the news of which was broken to
+him by Maurice. Dove was dumbfounded. Not a single sententious phrase
+crossed his lips; and he remained unashamed of the moisture that
+dimmed his eyes. But he maintained his bearing commendably; and it was
+impossible not to admire the upright, manly air with which he walked
+down the street.
+
+The next day, however, he returned, and was silent no longer. He made
+no secret of having been hard hit; just as previously he had
+let his friends into his hopes and intentions, so now every one heard
+of his reverses. He felt a tremendous need of unbosoming himself; he
+had been so sure of success, or, at least, so unthinking of failure,
+and the blow to his selfesteem was a rude one.
+
+Maurice sat with his hands in his pockets, and tried to urge reason.
+But Dove would not admit even the possibility of his having been
+mistaken. He had received innumerable proofs of Ephie's regard for
+him.
+
+"Remember how young she was! Girls of that age never know their own
+minds," said Maurice. But Dove was inclined to take Johanna's sterner
+view, and to cry: "So young and so untender!" for which he, too,
+substituted "untrue"; and, just on this score, to deduce unfavourable
+inferences for Ephie's whole moral character. As Maurice listened to
+him, he could not help thinking that Johanna's affection had been of
+the same nature as Dove's, in other words, had had a touch of the
+masculine about it: it had existed only as long as it could guide and
+subordinate; it denied to its object any midget attempt at individual
+life; it set up lofty moral standards, and was implacable when a
+smaller, frailer being found it impossible to live up to them.
+
+At the same time, he was sorry for Dove, who, in his blindness, had
+laid himself open to receive this snubbing; and he listened patiently,
+even a thought flattered by his confidence, until he learnt from
+Madeleine that Dove was making the round of his acquaintances, and
+behaving in the same way to anyone who would let him. Then he found
+that the openness with which Dove related his past hopes, and the
+marks of affection Ephie had given him, bordered on indecency. He said
+so, with a wrathful frankness; but Dove could not see it in that
+light, and was not offended.
+
+As the personal smart weakened, the more serious question that Dove
+had to face was, what he was going to tell his relatives at home. For
+it now came out that he had represented the affair to them as settled;
+in his perfectly sincere optimism, he had regarded himself as an all
+but engaged man. And the point that disturbed him was, how to back out
+with dignity, yet without violating the truth, on which he set great
+store.
+
+"I'm sure he needn't let that trouble him," said Madeleine, on hearing
+of his dilemma. "He has only to say that HE has changed his mind,
+which is true enough."
+
+This was the conclusion Dove eventually came to himself--
+though not with such unseemly haste as Madeleine. Having approached
+the matter from all sides, he argued that it would be more considerate
+to Ephie to put it in this light than to tell the story in detail. And
+consequently, two elderly people in Peterborough nodded to each other
+one morning over the breakfast-table, and agreed that Edward had done
+well. They had not been much in favour of the American match, but they
+had trusted implicitly in their son's good sense, and now, as ever, he
+had acted in the most becoming way. He had never given them an hour's
+uneasiness since his birth.
+
+Dove wrote:
+
+CIRCUMSTANCES HAVE ARISEN, MY DEAR PARENTS, WHICH MAKE IT
+INCONTROVERTIBLY CLEAR TO ME THAT THE YOUNG LADY TO WHOM I WAS PAYING
+MY ADDRESSES WHEN I CONSULTED YOU IN SUMMER AND MYSELF WOULD NOT HAVE
+KNOWN TRUE HAPPINESS IN OUR UNION. ON MORE INTIMATE ACQUAINTANCE IT
+TRANSPIRED THAT OUR CHARACTERS WERE TOTALLY UNSUITED. I HAVE THEREFORE
+FOUND IT ADVISABLE TO BANISH THE AFFAIR FROM MY MIND AND TO DEVOTE
+MYSELF WHOLLY TO MY STUDIES.
+
+As time passed, and Dove was able to view what had happened more
+objectively, he began to feel and even to hint that, all things
+considered, he had had a rather lucky escape; and from this, it was
+not very far to believing that if he had not just seen through the
+whole affair from the beginning, he had at any rate had some inkling
+of it; and now, instead of giving proofs of Ephie's affection, he
+narrated the gradual growth of his suspicions, and how these had
+ultimately been verified. In conclusion, he congratulated himself on
+having drawn back, with open eyes, while there was still time.
+
+"Like his cheek!" said Madeleine. "But he could imagine himself into
+being the Shah of Persia, if he sat down and gave his mind to it. I
+don't believe the snub is going to do him a bit of good. He bobs up
+again like a cork, irrepressible. HAVE you heard him quote: 'Frailty
+thy name is woman!' or: 'If women could be fair and yet not
+fond'?--It's as good as a play."
+
+But altogether, Madeleine was very sharp of tongue since she learnt
+the part Maurice had played in what, for a day, was the scandal of the
+English-speaking colony. She had taken him to task at once, for his
+"lamentable interference."
+
+"Haven't I warned you, Maurice, not to mix yourself up in
+Louise's affairs? No good can come of it. She breeds mischief. And if
+that absurd child had really drowned herself"--in the version of the
+story that had reached Madeleine's ears, Maurice was represented
+fishing Ephie bodily from the river--"you would have had to bear the
+whole brunt of the blame. It ought to teach you a lesson. For you're
+just the kind of boy women will always take advantage of, a mean
+advantage, you know. Consider how you were treated in this case--by
+both of them! They were not a scrap grateful to you for what you
+did--women never are. They only look down on you for letting them have
+their own way. Kindness and complaisance don't move them. A
+well-developed biceps and a cruel mouth--that's what they want, and
+that's all!" she wound up with a flourish, in an extreme bad temper.
+
+She sat, one dull November afternoon, at her piano, and continued to
+run her fingers over the keys. Maurice leant on the lid, and listened
+to her. But they had barely exchanged a word, when there was a light
+tap at the door, and Krafft entered. Both started at his unexpected
+appearance, and Madeleine cried: "You come in like a ghost, to
+frighten people out of their wits."
+
+Krafft was buttoned to the chin in a travelling-ulster, and looked
+pale and thin.
+
+"What news from St. Petersburg?" queried Madeleine with a certain
+asperity.
+
+But Maurice recalled an errand he had to do in town; and, on hearing
+this, Krafft, who was lolling aimlessly, declared that he would
+accompany him.
+
+"But you've only just come!" expostulated Madeleine. "What in the name
+of goodness did you climb the stairs for?"
+
+He patted her cheek, without replying.
+
+The young men went away together, Maurice puffing somewhat
+ostentatiously at a cigarette. The wind was cold, and Krafft seemed to
+shrink into his ulster before it, keeping his hands deep in his
+pockets. But from time to time, he threw a side-glance at his friend,
+and at length asked, in the tone of appeal which Maurice found it hard
+to withstand: "What's the matter, LIEBSTER? Why are you so
+different?--so changed?"
+
+"The matter? Nothing--that I'm aware of," said Maurice, and considered
+the tip of his cigarette.
+
+"Oh, yes, there is," and Krafft laid a caressing hand on his
+companion's arm. "You are changed. You're not frank with me. I feel
+such things at once."
+
+"Well, how on earth am I to know when to be frank with you,
+and when not? Before you . . . not very long ago, you behaved as if
+you didn't want to have anything more to do with me."
+
+"You are changed, and, if I'm not mistaken, I know why," said Krafft,
+ignoring his answer. "You have been listening to gossip--to what my
+enemies say of me."
+
+"I don't listen to gossip. And I didn't know you had enemies, as you
+call them."
+
+"I ?--and not have enemies?" He flared up as though Maurice had
+affronted him. "My good fellow, did you ever bear of a man worth his
+salt, who didn't have enemies? It's the penalty one pays: only the
+dolts and the 'all-too-many' are friends with the whole world. No one
+who has work to do that's worth doing, can avoid making enemies. And
+who knows what a friend is, who hasn't an enemy to match him? It's a
+question of light and shade, theme and counter-theme, of artistic
+proportion." He laughed, in his superior way. But directly afterwards,
+he dropped back into his former humble tone. "But that you, my friend,
+are so ready to let yourself be influenced--I should not have believed
+it of you."
+
+"What I heard, I heard from Furst; and I have no reason to suspect him
+of falsehood.--Of course, if you assure me it was not true, that's a
+different thing." He turned so sharply that he sent a beautiful flush
+over Krafft's face. "Come, give me your word, Heirtz, and things will
+be straight again."
+
+But Krafft merely shrugged his shoulders, and his colour subsided as
+rapidly as it had risen.
+
+"Are you still such an outsider," he asked, "after all this time--in my
+society--as to attach importance to a word? What is 'giving a word'? Do
+you really think it is of any value? May I not give it tonight, and
+take it back to-morrow, according to the mood I am in, according to
+whether I believe it myself or not, at the moment?--You think a thing
+must either be true or not true? You are wrong. Do you believe, when
+you answer a question in the affirmative or the negative, that you are
+actually telling the truth? No, my friend, to be perfectly truthful
+one would need to lose oneself in a maze of explanation, such as no
+questioner would have the patience to listen to. One would need to
+take into account the innumerable threads that have gone to making the
+statement what it is. Do you think, for instance, if I answered yes or
+no, in the present case, it would be true? If I deny what you
+heard--does that tell you that I have longed with all my heart for it
+to come to pass? Or say I admit it--I should need to unroll my life
+before you to make you understand. No, there's no such thing as
+absolute truth. If there were, the finest subtleties of existence
+would be lost. There is neither positive truth nor positive untruth;
+life is not so coarse-fibred as that. And only the grossest natures
+can be satisfied with a blunt yes or no. Truth?--it is one of the many
+miserable conventions the human brain has tortured itself with, and
+its first principle is an utter lack of the imaginative faculties.--A
+DIEU!"
+
+
+
+
+VI.
+
+
+
+In the days that followed, Maurice threw himself heart and soul into
+his work. He had lost ground of late, he saw it plainly now: after his
+vigorous start, he had quickly grown slack. He was not, to-day, at the
+stage he ought to be, and there was not a doubt but that Schwarz saw
+it, too. Now that he, came to think of it, he had more than once been
+aware of a studied coolness in the master's manner, of a rather
+ostentatious indifference to the quality of the work he brought to the
+class: and this he knew by hearsay to be Schwarz's attitude towards
+those of his pupils in whom his interest was waning. If he, Maurice,
+wished to regain his place in the little Pasha's favour, he must work
+like a coal-heaver. But the fact was, the strenuous industry to which
+he now condemned himself, was something of a relaxation after the
+mental anxiety he had recently undergone; this striking of a black and
+white keyboard was a pleasant, thought-deadening employment, and could
+be got through, no matter what one's mood.--And so he rose early again,
+and did not leave the house till he had five hours' practice behind
+him.
+
+WER SICH DER EINSAMKEIT ERGIEBT, ACH, DER IST BALD ALLEIN: at the end
+of a fortnight, Maurice smiled to find the words of Goethe's song
+proved on himself. If he did not go to see his friends, none of them
+came to him. Dove, who was at the stage of: "I told you so," in the
+affair of the Cayhills, had found fresh listeners, who were more
+sympathetic than Maurice could be expected to be: and Madeleine was up
+to her ears in work, as she phrased it, with the "C minor Beethoven."
+
+"Agility of finger equals softening of the brain" was a frequent gibe
+of Krafft's; and now and then, at the close of a hard day's work,
+Maurice believed that the saying contained a grain of truth. Opening
+both halves of his window, he would lean out on the sill, too tired
+for connected thought. But when dusk fell, he lay on the sofa, with
+his arms clasped under his head, his knees crossed in the air.
+
+At first, in his new buoyancy of spirit, he was able to keep foolish
+ideas behind him, as well as to put away all recollection of the
+disagreeable events he had been mixed up in of late: after
+having, for weeks, borne a load that was too heavy for him, he
+breathed freely once more. The responsibility of taking care of Ephie
+had been removed from him--and this by far outweighed the little that
+he missed her. The matter had wound up, too, in a fairly peaceable
+way; all being considered, things might have been worse. So, at first,
+he throve under his light-heartedness; and only now became aware how
+great the strain of the past few weeks had been. His chief sensation
+was relief, and also of relief at being able to feel relieved--indeed,
+the moment even came when he thought it would be possible calmly to
+accept the fact of Louise having left the town, and of his never being
+likely to see her again.
+
+Gradually, however, he began to be astonished at himself, and in the
+background of his mind, there arose a somewhat morbid curiosity, even
+a slight alarm, at his own indifference. He found it hard to
+understand himself. Could his feelings, those feelings which, a week
+or two ago, he had believed unalterable, have changed in so short a
+time? Was his nature one of so little stability? He began to consider
+himself with something approaching dismay, and though, all this time,
+he had been going about on a kind of mental tiptoe, for fear of
+rousing something that might be dormant in him, he now could not help
+probing himself, in order to see if the change he observed were
+genuine or not. And this with a steadily increasing frequency. Instead
+of continuing thankful for the respite, he ultimately grew uneasy
+under it. Am I a person of this weak, straw-like consistency, to be
+tossed about by every wind that blows? Is there something beneath it
+all that I cannot fathom?
+
+He had not seen Louise since the night he had left her alseep, beside
+the sofa; and he was resolved not to see her--not, at least, until she
+wished to see him. It was much better for him that the uncertainties
+of the bygone months did not begin anew; then, too, she had called him
+to her when she was in trouble, and not for anything in the world
+would he presume on her appeal. Besides, his presence would recall to
+her the unpleasant details connected with Ephie's visit, which he
+hoped she had by this time begun to forget. Thus he argued with
+himself, giving several reasons where one would have served; and the
+upshot of it was, that his own state of mind occupied him
+considerably.
+
+His friends noticed the improvement in him; the careworn expression
+that had settled down on him of late gave way to his old air
+of animation; and on all the small topics of the day, he brought a
+sympathetic interest to bear, such as people had ceased to expect from
+him. Madeleine, in particular, was satisfied with her "boy," as she
+took to calling him. She noted and checked off, in wise silence, each
+inch of his progress along the road of healthy endeavour; and the
+relations between them bcame almost as hearty as at the commencement
+of their friendship. Privately, she believed that the events of the
+past month had taught him a lesson, which he would not soon forget. It
+was sufficient, however, if they had inspired him with a distrust of
+Louise, which would keep him from her for the present; for Madeleine
+had grounds for believing that before many weeks had passed, Louise
+would have left Leipzig.
+
+So she kept Maurice as close to her as work permitted; and as the
+winter's flood of concerts set in, in full force, he accompanied her,
+almost nightly, to the Old Gewandhaus or the ALBERTHALLE; for
+Madeleine was an indefatigable concert-goer, and never missed a
+performer of note, rarely even a first appearance at the HOTEL DE
+PRUSSE or a BLUTHNER MATINEE. On the night she herself played in an
+AIBENDUNTERHALTUNG, with the easily gained success that attended all
+she did, Maurice went with her to the green-room, and was the first
+afterwards to tell her how her performance had "gone." That same
+evening she took him with her to the house of friends of hers, the
+Hensels. There he met some of the best musical society of the place,
+made a pleasant impression, and was invited to return.
+
+Meanwhile, winter had set in, with extreme severity. Piercing north
+winds drove down the narrow streets, and raged round the corners of
+the Gewandhaus square: on emerging from the PROBE on a Wednesday
+morning, one's breath was cut clean off, and the tears raced down
+one's cheeks. When the wind dropped, there were hard black frosts--a
+deadly, stagnant kind of cold, which seemed to penetrate every pore of
+the skin and every cranny of the house. Then came the snow, which fell
+for three days and nights on end, and for several nights after, so
+that the town was lost under a white pall: house-entrances were with
+difficulty kept free, and the swept streets were banked with walls of
+snow, four and five feet high. The night-frosts redoubled their
+keenness; the snow underfoot crackled like electric sparks; the
+sleighs crunched the roads. But except for this, and for the tinkling
+of the sleigh-bells, the streets were as noiseless as though laid with
+straw, and especially while fresh snow still formed a soft
+coating on the crisp layer below. All dripping water hung as icicles;
+water froze in ewers and pitchers; milk froze in cans and jugs; and
+this though the great stoves in the dwelling-rooms were heated to
+bursting-point. Red-nosed, red-eared men, on whose beards and
+moustaches the breath had turned to ice-drops, cried to one another at
+street-corners that such a winter had not been known for thirty years;
+and, as they spoke, they stamped their feet, and clapped their hands,
+to keep the chilly blood agoing. Women muffled and veiled themselves
+like Orientals, hardly showing the tips of their noses; and all manner
+of strange, antiquated fur-garments saw the day. At night, if one
+opened a window, and peered out at the houses crouching beneath their
+thick white load, and at the deserted, snow-bound streets, over which
+the street-lamps threw a pale, uncertain light--at night, familiar
+things took on an unfamiliar aspect, and the well-known streets might
+have been the untrodden ways that led to a new world.
+
+Early in November, all ponds and pools were bearing, and forthwith
+many hundreds of people forgot the severity of the weather, and
+thronged out with their skates.
+
+Maurice was among the first. He was a passionate skater; and it was
+the one form of sport in which he excelled. As four o'clock came
+round, he could contain himself no longer; he would rather have gone
+without his dinner, thanhave missed, on the JOHANNATEICH, the two
+hours that elapsed before the sweepers, crying: "FEIERABEND!" drove
+the skaters before them, with their brooms. In a tightly buttoned
+square jacket, the collar of which was turned up as far as it would
+go, with the flaps of his astrachan cap drawn over his cars, his hands
+in coarse woollen gloves, Maurice defied the cold, flying round the
+two ponds that formed the JOHANNATEICH, or practising intricate
+figures with a Canadian acquaintance in a corner.
+
+Madeleine watched him approvingly from one of the wooden bridges that
+spanned the neck connecting the ponds. She rejoiced at his glowing
+face and vigorous, boyish pleasure, also at the skill that marked him
+out as one of the best skaters present. For some time, Maurice tried
+in vain to persuade her to join him. Madeleine, usually so confident,
+was here diffident and timid. She had never in her life attempted to
+skate, and was sure she would fall. And what should she do if she
+broke a thumb or strained a finger?--with her PRUFUNG just before the
+door. She would never have the courage to confess to Schwarz
+how it had happened; for he was against "sport" in any form. But
+Maurice laughed at her fears.
+
+"There is not the least chance of your falling," he cried up to her.
+"Do come down, Madeleine. Before you've gone round twice, you'll be
+able to throw off all those mufflings."
+
+Finally, she let herself be persuaded, and according to his promise,
+Maurice remained at her side from the moment of her first, hesitating
+steps, each of which was accompanied by a faint scream, to the time
+when, with the aid of only one of his hands, she made uncertain
+efforts at striking out. She did not learn quickly; but she was soon
+as enthusiastic a skater as Maurice himself; and he fell into the
+habit of calling for her, every afternoon, on his way to the ponds.
+
+Dove was also of assistance in the beginning, and, as usual, was well
+up in the theory of the thing, though he did not shine in practice.
+
+"Oh, bother, never mind how you go at first. That'll come afterwards,"
+said Maurice impatiently. But Dove thought the rules should be
+observed from the beginning, and gave Madeleine minute instructions
+how to place her feet.
+
+Towards five o'clock, the ice grew more crowded, and especially was
+this the case on Wednesdays and Saturdays, when the schools had
+half-holidays. On one of these latter days, Maurice did not find
+Madeleine at home; and he had been on the ponds for nearly an hour,
+before he espied her on a bench beside the GARDEROBE, having her
+skates put on by a blue-smocked attendant. He waved his cap to her,
+and skated over.
+
+"Why are you so late?"
+
+"Oh, thank goodness, there you are. I should never have dared to stand
+up alone in this crowd. Aren't these children awful? Get away, you
+little brutes! If you touch me, I'll fall.--Here, give me change," she
+said to the ice-man, holding out a twenty-pfennig piece.
+
+Maurice saw that she was unusually excited, and as soon as he had
+drawn her out of reach of the children, asked her the reason.
+
+"I've something interesting to tell you, Maurice."
+
+But here Dove, coming up behind, took possession of her left hand,
+with no other greeting than the military salute, which, on the ice, he
+adopted for all his friends, male and female, alike; and Madeleine
+hastily swallowed the rest of her sentence.
+
+They skated round the larger of the ponds several times
+without stopping. The cold evening air stung their faces; the sun had
+gone down in a lurid haze; Madeleine's skirts swayed behind her and
+lent her a fictitious grace.
+
+But presently she cried a halt, and while she rested in a quiet
+corner, they watched Maurice doing a complicated figure, which he and
+his Canadian friend had invented the day before. Dove was explaining
+how it was done--"It is really not so hard as it looks"--when, with a
+cry of "ACHTUNG!" some one whizzed in among them, scattered the group,
+and, revolving on himself, ended with a jump in the air. It was James.
+He took out his handkerchief and blew his nose, in the most
+unconcerned manner possible.
+
+"I don't think such acrobatic tricks should be allowed," said
+Madeleine disapprovingly; she had been forced to grab Dove's arm to
+keep her balance.
+
+"Say, do you boys know the river has six inches and will be open
+to-morrow, if it isn't to-day?" asked James, stooping to tighten a
+strap.
+
+"Is that so? Oh gee, that's fine!" cried Miss Martin, who had skated
+leisurely up in his rear. "Say, you people, why don't we fix up a
+party an' go up it nights? A lady in my boarding-house done that with
+some folks she was acquainted with last year. Seems to me we oughtn't
+to be behind."
+
+Miss Martin was a skilled and graceful skater, and looked her best in
+a dark fur hat and jacket, which set off her abundance of pale flaxen
+hair. Others had followed her, and it was resolved to form a party for
+the following evening, provided Dove had previously ascertained if the
+river actually was "free," in order that they ran no risk of being
+ignominiously turned off.
+
+"The ice may be a bit rough, but it's a fine run to Connewitz."
+
+"An' by moonlight, too--but say, is there a moon? Why, I presume there
+ought to be," said Miss Martin.
+
+"'Doth the moon shine that night we play our play?'" quoted Dove,
+examining a tiny pocket-calendar.
+
+"Oh gee, that's fine!" repeated Miss Martin, on hearing his answer.
+"Say, we must dance a FRANCAISE. Mr. Guest, you an' I'll be partners,
+I surmise," and ceasing to waltz and pirouette with James, she took a
+long sweep, then stood steady, and let her skates bear her out to the
+middle of the pond. Her skirts clung close in front, and swept
+out behind her lithe figure, until it was lost in the crowd.
+
+"Don't you wish YOU could skate like that?" asked the sharp-tongued
+little student, called Dickensey, who was standing beside Madeleine.
+Madeleine, who held him in contempt because his trousers were baggy at
+the knees, and because he had once appeared at a ball in white cotton
+gloves, answered with asperity that there were other things in life
+besides skating. She had no further chance of speaking to Maurice in
+private, so postponed telling her news till the following evening.
+
+Shortly after eight o'clock, the next night, a noisy party whistled
+and hallooed in the street below Maurice's window. He was the last to
+join, and then some ten or eleven of them picked their steps along the
+hard-frozen ruts of the SCHLEUSSIGER WEG, a road that followed the
+river to the outskirts of the town. Just above the GERMANIABAD, a
+rough scat had been erected on the ice, for the convenience of
+skaters. They were the first to make use of it; the snow before it was
+untrodden; and the Pleisse wound white and solitary between its banks
+of snow.
+
+They set off in a higgledy-piggledy fashion, each striking out for
+himself. When, however, they had passed the narrower windings, gone
+under the iron bridge which was low enough to catch the unwary by the
+forehead, and when the full breadth of the river was before them, they
+took hands, and, forming a long line, skated in time to the songs some
+one struck up, and in which all joined: THE ROSE OF SHARON, JINGLE
+BELLS, THERE IS A TAVERN IN OUR TOWN. As they advanced to the corners
+where the big trees trailed their naked branches on the ice, just as
+in summer they sank their leaves in the water, Miss Jensen, who,
+despite her proportions, was a surprisingly good skater, sent her big
+voice over the snow-bound stillness in an aria from the PROPHET; and
+after this, Miss Martin, no; to be done, struck up the popular
+ALLERSEELEN. This was the song of the hour; they all knew it, and up
+and down and across the ice rang out their voices in unison: WIE EINST
+IM MAI, WIE EINST IM MAI.
+
+Inside Wagner's WALDCAFE at Connewitz, they sat closely packed round
+one of the wooden tables, and drank beer and coffee, and ate BERLINER
+PFANNKUCHEN. The great iron stove was almost red-hot; the ladies threw
+off their wrappings; cold faces glowed and burnt, and frozen hands
+tingled. One and all were in high spirits, and the jollity
+reached a climax when, having exchanged hats, James and Miss Jensen
+cleared a space in the middle of the floor and danced a nigger-dance,
+the lady with her skirts tucked up above her ankles. In the adjoining
+room, some one began to play a concertina, and then two or three
+couples stood up and danced, with much laughter and many outcries at
+the narrowness of the space. Even Dove joined in, his partner being a
+very pretty American, whom Miss Martin had brought with her, and whose
+side Dove had not left for a moment. Only Madeleine and Dickensey sat
+aloof, and for once were agreed: Americans were really "very bad
+form." There was no livelier pair than Maurice and Miss Martin; the
+latter's voice could be heard above all others, as she taught Maurice
+new steps in a corner of the room. Her flaxen hair had partly come
+loose, and she did not stop to put it up. They were the first to run
+through the dark garden, past the snow-laden benches and arbours,
+which, in summer, were buried in greenery; and, from the low wooden
+landingplace, they jumped hand in hand on to the ice, and had shot a
+long way down the river before any of the rest could follow them.
+
+But this did not please Madeleine. As it was, she was vexed at not
+having had the opportunity of a quiet word with Maurice; and when she
+had laboriously skated up, with Dickensey, to the spot where, in a
+bright splash of moonlight, Maurice and Miss Martin were cutting
+ingenious capers, she cried to the former in a peremptory tone:
+"There's something wrong with my skate, Maurice. Will you look at it,
+please?" and as sharply declined Dickensey's proffered aid.
+
+Maurice came to her side at once, and in this way she detained him.
+But Dickensey hovered not far off, and Miss Martin was still in sight.
+Madeleine caught her skate in a crack, fell on her knee, and said she
+had now loosened the strap altogether. She sat down on a heap of snow,
+and Dickensey's shade vanished good-naturedly round a corner.
+
+"Well, YOU seem to be enjoying yourself," she said as Maurice drew off
+his gloves and knelt down.
+
+"Why, yes, aren't you?" he replied so frankly that she did not
+continue the subject.
+
+"I've been trying all the evening to get a word with you. I told you
+yesterday, you remember, that I wanted to speak to you. Sit down here,
+for a moment, so that we can talk in peace," and she spread part of her
+skirt over the snow-heap.
+
+Maurice complied, and she could not discover any trace of
+reluctance in his manner.
+
+"I want your advice," she continued. "I was taken quite by surprise
+myself. Schwarz sent for me, you know, after counterpoint. It was
+about my PRUFUNG at Easter. If I play then, it's a case of the C minor
+Beethoven. Well, now he says it's a thousand pities for me to break
+off just at the stage I'm at, and he wants me to stay for another
+year. If I do, he'll give me the G major--that's a temptation, isn't
+it? On the other hand, I shall have been here my full time--three
+years--at Easter. That's a year longer than I originally intended, and
+I feel I'm getting too old to be a pupil. But this talk with Schwarz
+has upset my plans. I'm naturally flattered at his interesting himself
+in me. He wouldn't do it for every one. And I do feel I could gain an
+immense deal in another year.--Now, what do you think?"
+
+"Why, stay, of course, Madeleine. If you can afford it, that is. I
+can't imagine anyone wanting to leave."
+
+"Oh, my capital will last so long, and it's a good enough investment."
+
+"But wasn't a place being kept open for you in a school?"
+
+"Yes; but I don't think a year more or less will make much difference
+to them. I must sound them, of course, though," said Madeleine, and
+did not mention that she had written and posted the letter the night
+before. "Then you advise me to stay?"
+
+"Why, of course," he repeated, and was mildly astonished at her. "If
+everything is as smooth as you say."
+
+"You would miss me, if I left?"
+
+"Why, of course I should," he said again, and wondered what in the
+world she was driving at.
+
+"Well, all the better," replied Madeleine. "For when one has really
+got to like a person, one would rather it made a difference than not."
+
+She was silent after this, and sat looking down the stretch of ice
+they had travelled: the moon was behind a cloud, and the woods on
+either side were masses of dense black shadow. Not a soul was in
+sight; the river was like a deserted highway. Madeleine stared down
+it, and did not feel exactly satisfied with the result of her
+investigation. She had not expected anything extraordinary--Heaven
+forbid!--but she had been uncomfortably conscious of Maurice's
+surprise. To her last remark, he had made no answer: be was
+occupied with the screw of one of his skates.
+
+She drew his attention to the fact that, if she remained in Leipzig
+for another twelvemonth, they would finish at the same time; and
+thereupon she sketched out a plan of them going somewhere together,
+and starting a music-school of their own. Maurice, who thought she was
+jesting, laughingly assented. But Madeleine was in earnest: "Other
+people have done it--why shouldn't we? We could take a 'cellist with
+us, and go to America, or Australia, or Canada--there are hundreds of
+places. And there's a great deal of money in it, I'm sure. A little
+capital would be needed to begin with, but not much, and I could
+supply that. You've always said you dreaded going back to the English
+provinces to decay--here's your chance!"
+
+She saw the whole scheme cut and dried before her. As they, skated
+after the rest, she continued to enlarge upon it, in a detailed way
+that astonished Maurice. He confessed that, with a head like hers to
+conduct it, such a plan stood a fair chance of success; and thus
+encouraged, Madeleine undertook to make a kind of beginning at once,
+by sounding some of the numerous friends she had, scattered through
+America. Her idea was that they should go over together, and travel to
+various places, giving concerts, and acquainting themselves, as they
+did so, with the musical conditions of the towns they visited.
+
+"And the 'cellist shall be an American--that will draw."
+
+According to the pace at which they were skating, the others should
+have remained well out of reach. But on turning a corner, they came
+upon the whole party dancing a FRANCAISE--which two members whistled--on
+a patch of ice that was smoother than the rest.
+
+"Here, Guest, come along, we want you," was the cry as soon as Maurice
+appeared; and, to Madeleine's deep displeasure, she was thrown on
+Dove, whose skill had not sufficed. When the dancing was over, Maurice
+once more found himself with Miss Martin, whom, for some distance, he
+pushed before him, she standing steady on her skates, and talking to
+him over her shoulder.
+
+"That wasn't a bit pretty of you, Mr. Guest," she asserted, with her
+long, slow, twanged speech. "It was fixed up yesterday, I recollect,
+that you were to dance the FRANCAISE with me. Yes, indeed. An' then I
+had to take up with Mr. Dove. Now Mr. Dove is just a lovely gentleman,
+but he don't skate elegantly, an' he nearly tumbled me twice.
+Yes, indeed. But I presume when Miss Wade says come, then you're most
+obliged to go."
+
+"How is it one don't ever see you now?" she queried a moment later.
+"It isn't anyhow so pleasurable at dinner as it used to be. But I hear
+you're working most hard--it's to' bad."
+
+"It's what one comes to here."
+
+"I guess it is. But I do like to see my friends once in a while. Say,
+now, Mr. Guest, won't you drink coffee with me one afternoon? I'll
+make you some real American coffee if you do, sir. What they call
+coffee here don't count."
+
+She turned, offered him her hand, and they began to skate in long,
+outward curving lines.
+
+"I think one has just a fine time here, don't you?" she continued.
+"Momma, she came right with me, an' stopped a bit, till I was fixed up
+in a boarding-house. But she didn't find it agreeable, no sir. She
+missed America, an' presumed I would, too. When she was leaving, she
+said to me: 'EI'nor Martin, if you find you can't endure it among
+these Dutch, just you cable, and poppa he'll come along an' fetch you
+right home,' But I'm sure I haven't desired to quit, no, not once. I
+think it's just fine. But then I've gotten me so many friends I don't
+ever need to feel lonesome. Why, my friend Susie Fay, she says: 'Why,
+EI'nor, I guess you're acquainted with most every one in the place.'
+An' I reckon she's not far out. Anyways there ain't more than two
+Americans in the city I don't know. An' I see most all strangers that
+come. Say, are you acquainted with Miss Moses? She's from Chicago, an'
+resides in a boarding-house way down by the COLONNADEN. I got
+acquainted with her yesterday. She's a lovely lady, an', why, she's
+just as smart as she can be. Say, if you like, I'll invite her along,
+so you can get acquainted with her too."
+
+Maurice expressed pleasure at the prospect; and Miss Martin continued
+to rattle on, with easy frankness, of herself, her family, and her
+friends. He listened vaguely, with half an ear, since it was only
+required of him to throw in an occasional word of assent. But suddenly
+his attention was arrested, and brought headlong back to what she was
+saying: in the string of names that fell from her tongue, he believed
+he had caught one he knew.
+
+"Miss Dufrayer?" he queried.
+
+"That's it," replied his companion. "Louise Dufrayer. Well,
+sir, as I was going on to remark, when first I was acquainted with
+her, she was just as sweet as she could be; yes, indeed; why, she was
+just dandy. But she hasn't behaved a bit pretty--I presume you heard
+tell of what took place here this fall?"
+
+"Then you know Miss Dufrayer?"
+
+"Yes, indeed. But I don't see her any more, an' I guess I don't want
+to. Not but what I've heard she feels pretty mean about it now--beg
+pardon?--how I know? Why, indeed, the other day, Schwarz come in an'
+told us how she's moping what she can--moping herself to death--if I
+recollect, those were his very words. Yes, indeed. She don't take
+lessons no more, I presume. I think she should go right away from this
+city. It ain't possible to be acquainted with her any more, for all
+she's so lonesome, an' one feels sort of bad about it, yes, indeed.
+But momma, the last thing she said to me was: 'Now EI'nor Martin, just
+keep your eyes open, an' don't get acquainted with people you might
+feel bad about afterwards.' An' I presume momma was right. I don't--
+Oh, say, do look at her, isn't she a peach?"--this, as her pretty
+friend, with Dove in tow, came gliding up to them. "Say, Susie Fay,
+are you acquainted with Mr. Guest?"
+
+"MR. Guest. Pleased to know you," said Susie cordially; and Miss
+Martin was good-natured enough to skate off with Dove, leaving Maurice
+to her friend.
+
+But afterwards, at the bench, as he was undoing Madeleine's skates, he
+overheard pretty Susie remark, without much care to moderate her
+voice: "Say, EI'nor Martin, that's the quietest sort of young man I've
+ever shown round a district. Why, seems to me, he couldn't say 'shoh.'
+Guess you shouldn't have left us, EI'nor."
+
+And Miss Martin guessed so, too.
+
+
+
+
+
+VII.
+
+
+
+When he had seen Madeleine home, Maurice returned to his room, and not
+feeling inclined to sleep, sat down to read. But his thoughts strayed;
+he forgot to turn the page; and sat staring over the book at the
+pattern of the tablecloth. Incidents of the evening flashed before
+him: Miss Jensen, in James's hat, with her skirts pinned up; Madeleine
+earnest and decisive on the bank of snow; the maze and laughter of the
+FRANCAISE; Miss Martin's slim, straight figure as he pushed her before
+him. He did not try to control these details, nor was he conscious of
+a mental effort; they stood out for an instant, as vivid sensations,
+then glided by, to make room for others. But, as he let them pass, he
+became aware that below them, in depths of his mind he had believed
+undisturbed, there was present a feeling of strange unhappiness, which
+he did not know the cause of: these sharp pictures resembled an
+attempt on the part of his mind, to deceive him as to what was really
+going on in him. But he did not want to know, and he allowed his
+thoughts to take wider flights: recalling the scheme Madeleine had
+proposed, he considered it with a clearness of view, which, at the
+time, had been impossible. From this, he turned to America itself, and
+reflected on the opportunities the country offered. He saw the two of
+them sweeping through vast tracts of uncultivated land, in a train
+that outdid all real trains in swiftness; saw unknown tropical places,
+where the yellow fruit hung low and heavy, and people walked
+shadeless, sandy roads, in white hats, under white umbrellas. He saw
+Madeleine and himself on the awning-spanned deck of an ocean steamer,
+anchoring in a harbour where the sea was the colour of turquoise,
+touched to sapphire where the mountains came down to the shore.
+
+"Moping herself to death": the phrase crystallised in his brain with
+such suddenness that he said it aloud. Now he knew what it was that
+was troubling him. He had not consciously recalled the words, nor had
+they even made a very incisive impression on him at the time; but they
+had evidently lain dormant, now to return and to strike him, as if no
+others had been said. He explained to himself what they meant.
+It was this: outside, in the crisp, stinging air, people lived and
+moved, busy with many matters, or sported, as he and his companions
+had done that evening: inside, she sat alone, mournful, forsaken. He
+saw her in the dark sofacorner, with her head on her hands. Day passed
+and night passed, but she was always in the same place; and her head
+was bowed so low that her white fingers were lost in the waves of her
+hair. He saw her thus with the distinctness of a vision, and except in
+this way could not see her at all.
+
+He felt it little short of shameful that he should have carelessly
+amused himself; and, as always where she was concerned, a deep,
+unreasoning sense of his own unworthiness, filled him. He demanded of
+himself, with a new energy, what he could do to help her. Fantastic
+plans rose as usual in his mind, and as usual were dismissed. For the
+one thing he was determined not to do, was to thrust himself on her
+uncalled. Her solitude was of her own choosing, and no one had the
+right to break in upon it. It was perhaps her way of doing penance;
+and, at this thought, he felt a thrill of satisfaction.
+
+At night, he consoled himself that things would seem different in the
+morning; but when he wakened from a restless sleep, crowded with
+dreams one more grotesque than another, he was still prone to be
+gloomy. He could think more clearly by daylight--that was all: his
+pitying sympathy for her had only increased. It interfered with
+everything he did; just as it had formerly done--just in the old way.
+And he had been on the brink of believing himself grown indifferent,
+and stronger in common sense. Fool that he was! Only a word was needed
+to bring his card-house down. The placidity of the past weeks had been
+a mere coating of thin ice, which had given way beneath the first
+test. A distrust of himself took him, a distrust so deep that it
+amounted to aversion; for in his present state of mind he discerned
+only a despicable weakness. But though he was thus bewildered at his
+own inconsistency, he was still assured that he would not approach
+Louise--not, that is, unless she sent for him. So much control he still
+had over his actions: and he went so far as to make his staying away a
+touchstone of his stability. This, too, although reason told him the
+end of it all would be, that Louise would actually leave Leipzig,
+without sending for him, or even remembering his existence.
+
+He worked steadily enough. A skilled observer might have
+remarked a slight contraction of the corners of his mouth; none of his
+friends, however, noticed anything, with the exception of Madeleine,
+and all she said was: "You look so cross sometimes. Is anything the
+matter?"
+
+Late one afternoon, they were on the ice as usual. While Madeleine
+talked to Dickensey, Maurice practised beside them. In making a
+particularly complicated gyration, he all but overbalanced himself,
+and his cap fell on the ice. As he was brushing the snow off it, he
+chanced to raise his eyes. A number of people were standing on the
+wooden bridge, watching the skaters; to the front, some children
+climbed and pushed on the wooden railing. His eye was ranging
+carelessly over them, when he started so violently that he again let
+his cap drop. He picked it up, threw another hasty look at the bridge,
+then turned and skated some distance away, where he could see without
+being seen. Yes, he had not been mistaken; it was Louise; he
+recognised her although a fur hat almost covered her hair. She was
+gazing down, with an intentness he knew in her; one hand rested on the
+parapet. And then, as he looked, his blood seemed to congeal: she was
+not alone; he saw her turn and speak to some one behind her. For a
+moment things swam before him. Then, a blind curiosity drove him
+forward to find out whom she spoke to. People moved on the bridge,
+obstructing his view, then several went away, and there was no further
+hindrance to his seeing: her companion was the shabby little
+Englishman, of doubtful reputation, with whom he had met her once or
+twice that summer. He felt himself grow cold. But now that he had
+certainty, his chief idea was to prevent the others from knowing, too;
+he grew sick at the thought of Madeleine's sharp comments, and
+Dickensey's cynicism. Rejoining them, he insisted--so imperiously that
+Madeleine showed surprise--on their skating with him on the further
+pond; and he kept them going round and round without a pause.
+
+When the bridge was empty, and he had made sure that Louise was not
+standing anywhere about the edge of the ice, he left his companions,
+and, without explanation, crossed to the benches and took off his
+skates. He did not, however, go home; he went into the SCHEIBENHOLZ,
+and from there along outlying roads till he reached the river; and
+then, screwing on his skates again, he struck out with his face to the
+wind. Dusk was falling; at first he met some skaters making for home;
+but these were few, and he soon left them behind. When the
+state of the ice did not allow of his skating further, he plunged into
+the woods again, beyond Connewitz, tumbling in his haste, tripping
+over snow-bound roots, sinking kneedeep in the soft snow. His
+endeavour was to exhaust himself. If he sat at home now, before this
+fever was out of him, he might be tempted to knock his head against
+the wall of his room. Movement, space, air--plenty of air!--that was
+what he needed.
+
+Hitherto, he had been surprised at his own conduct; now he was aghast:
+the hot rush of jealousy that had swept through him at the sight of
+the couple on the bridge, was a revelation even to himself. His
+previous feelings had been those of a child compared with this--a mere
+weak revolt against the inevitable. But what had now happened was not
+inevitable; that was the sting of it: it was a violent chance-effect.
+And his distress was so keen that, for the first time, she, too, had
+to bear her share of blame. He said jeeringly to himself, that,
+quixotic as ever, he had held aloof from her, leaving her in solitude
+to an atonement of his own imagining; and meanwhile, some one who was
+not troubled by foolish ideals stepped in and took his place. For it
+WAS his place; he could not rid himself of that belief. If anyone had
+a right to be at her side it was he, unless, indeed, all that he had
+undergone on her behalf during the past months counted for nothing.
+
+Of course this Eggis was an unscrupulous fellow; but it was just such
+men as this--he might note that for future use--who won where others
+lost. At the same time, he shrank from the idea of imitating him; and
+even had he been bold enough, not a single errand could he devise to
+serve him as an excuse. He could not go to her and say: I come because
+I have seen you with some one else. And yet that would be the truth;
+and it would lurk beneath all he said.
+
+The days of anxiety that followed were hard to bear. He dreaded every
+street-corner, for fear Louise and the other should turn it; dreaded
+raising his eyes to the bridges over the ice; and was so irritable in
+temper that Madeleine suggested he should go to Dresden in the
+Christmas holidays, for change of air.
+
+For, over all this, Christmas had come down--the season of gift-making,
+and glittering Christmas trees, of BOWLE, STOLLEN, and HONIGKUCHEN.
+For a fortnight beforehand, the open squares and places were set out
+with fir-trees of all sizes--their pungent fragrance met one at every
+turn: the shops were ablaze till late evening, crowded with
+eagerly seeking purchasers; the streets were impassible for the masses
+of country people that thronged them. Every one carried brown paper
+parcels, and was in a hurry. As the time drew near, subordinates and
+officials grew noticeably polite; the very houseporter touched his cap
+at your approach. Bakers' shops were piled high with
+WEIHNACHTSSTOLLEN, which were a special mark of the festival: cakes
+shaped like torpedoes, whose sugared, almonded coats brisked brown and
+tempting. But the spicy scent of the firs was the motive that recurred
+most persistently: it clung even to the stairways of the houses.
+
+Maurice had assisted Madeleine with her circumstantial shopping; and,
+at dusk on Christmas Eve, he helped her to carry her parcels to the
+house of some German friends. He himself was invited to Miss Jensen's,
+where a party of English and Americans would celebrate the evening in
+their own fashion; but not till eight o'clock. When he had picked out
+at a confectioner's, a TORTE for the Fursts, he did not know how to
+kill time. He was in an unsettled mood, and the atmosphere of
+excitement, which had penetrated the familiar details of life, jarred
+on him. It seemed absurdly childish, the way in which even the
+grown-up part of the population surrendered itself to the sentimental
+pleasures of the season. But foreigners were only big children; or, at
+least, they could lay aside age and dignity at will. He felt
+misanthropic, and went for a long walk; and when he had passed the
+last tree-market, where poor buyers were bargaining for the poor trees
+that were left, he met only isolated stragglers. In some houses, the
+trees were already lighted.
+
+On his return, he went to a flower-shop in the KONIGSPLATZ, and chose
+an azalea to take to Miss Jensen. While he was waiting for the pot to
+be swathed in crimped paper, his eye was caught by a large bunch of
+red and yellow roses, which stood in a vase at the back of the
+counter. He regarded them for a moment, without conscious thought;
+then, suddenly colouring, he streched out his hand.
+
+"I'll take those roses, too. What do they cost?"
+
+The girl who served him--a very pretty girl, with plaits of
+straw-coloured hair, wound Madonna-like round her head--named a sum
+that seemed exorbitant to his inexperience, and told a wordy story of
+how they had been ordered, and then countermanded at the last moment.
+
+"A pity. Such fine flowers!"
+
+Her interest was awakened in the rather shabby young man who
+paid the price without flinching; and she threw inquisitive looks at
+him as she wrapped the roses in tissue-paper.
+
+A moment later, Maurice was in the street with the flowers in his
+hand. He had acted so spontaneously that he now believed his mind to
+have been made up before he entered the shop; no, more, as if all that
+had happened during the past week had led straight up to his impulsive
+action. Or was it only that, at the sight of the flowers, a kind of
+refrain had begun to run through his head: she loves roses, loves
+roses?
+
+But he did not give himself time for reflection; he hurried through
+the cold night air, sheltering the flowers under his coat. Soon he was
+once more in the BRUDERSTRASSE, on the stair, every step of which,
+though he had only climbed it some three or four times, he seemed to
+know by heart. As, however, he waited for the door to be opened, his
+heart misgave him; he was not sure how she would regard his gift, and,
+in a burst of cowardice, he resolved just to hand in the roses,
+without even leaving his name. But his first ring remained unanswered,
+and before he rang again, he had time to be afraid she would not be at
+home--a simple, but disappointing solution.
+
+There was another pause. Then he heard sounds, steps came along the
+passage, and the door was opened by Louise herself.
+
+He was so unprepared for this that he could not collect his wits; he
+thrust the flowers into her hand, with a few stammered words, and his
+foot was on the stair before she could make a movement to stop him.
+
+Louise had peered out from the darkness of the passage to the dusk of
+the landing, with the air of one roused from sleep. She looked from
+him to the roses in her hand, and back at him. He tried to say
+something else, raised his hat, and was about to go. But, when she saw
+this, she impulsively stepped towards him.
+
+"Are they for me?" she asked. And added: "Will you not come in?
+Please, come in."
+
+At the sound of her voice, Maurice came back from the stair-head. But
+it was not possible for him to stay: friends--engaged--a promise of long
+standing.
+
+"Ah then . . . of course." She retreated into the shadow of the
+doorway. "But I am quite alone. There is no one in but me."
+
+"Why, however does that happen?" Maurice asked quickly, and
+was ready at once to be wrath with all the world. He paused
+irresolute, with his hand on the banisters.
+
+"I said I didn't mind. But it is lonely."
+
+"I should think it was.--On this night of all others, too."
+
+He followed her down the passage. In the room there was no light
+except what played on the walls from the streetlamps, the blinds being
+still undrawn. She had been sitting in the dark. Now, she took the
+globe off the lamp, and would have lighted it, but she could not find
+matches.
+
+"Let me do it," said Maurice, taking out his own; and, over the head
+of this trifling service, he had a feeling of intense satisfaction. By
+the light that was cast on the table, he watched her free the roses
+from their paper, and raise them to her face. She did not mention them
+again, but it was ample thanks to see her touch several of them
+singly, as she put them in a jug of water.
+
+But this done, they sat on opposite sides of the table, and had
+nothing to say to each other. After each banal observation he made
+came a heart-rending pause; she let a subject drop as soon as it was
+broached. It was over two months now since Maurice had seen her, and
+he was startled by the change that had taken place in her. Her face
+seemed to have grown longer; and there were hollows in the fine oval
+of the cheeks, in consequence of which the nose looked larger, and
+more pinched. The chin-lines were sharpened, the eyes more sunken,
+while the shadows beneath them were as dark as though they were
+plastered on with bistre. But it was chiefly the expression of the
+face that had altered: the lifelessness of the eyes was new to it, and
+the firm compression of the mouth: now, when she smiled, no thin line
+of white appeared, such as he had been used to watch for.
+
+Even more marked than this, though, was the change that had taken
+place in her manner. He had known her as passionately self-assertive;
+and he could not now accustom himself to the condition of apathy in
+which he found her. "Moping to death" had been no exaggeration; help
+was needed here, and at once, if she were not to be irretrievably
+injured.
+
+As he thought these things, he talked at random. There were not many
+topics, however, that could be touched on with impunity, and he
+returned more than once to the ice and the skating, as offering a kind
+of neutral ground, on which he was safe. And Louise listened, and
+sometimes assented; but her look was that of one who listens
+to the affairs of another world. Could she not be persuaded to join
+them on the JOHANNATEICH, he was asking her. What matter though she
+did not skate! It was easily learned. Madeleine had been a beginner
+that winter, and now seldom missed an afternoon.
+
+"Oh, if Madeleine is there, I should not go," she said with a touch of
+the old arrogance.
+
+Then he told her of the frozen river, with its long, lonely,
+grey-white reaches. Her eyes kindled at this, he fancied, and in her
+answer was more of herself. "I have never trodden on ice in my life.
+Oh, I should be afraid--horribly afraid!"
+
+For those who did not skate there were chairs, he urged--big,
+green-painted, sledge-like chairs, which ran smoothly. The ice was
+many inches thick; there was not the least need to be afraid.
+
+But she only smiled, and did not answer.
+
+"Then I can't persuade you?" he asked, and was annoyed at his own
+powerlessness. She can go with Eggis, he told himself, and
+simultaneously spoke out the thought. "I saw you on the bridge the
+other day."
+
+But if he had imagined this would rouse her, he was wrong.
+
+"Yes?" she said indifferently, and with that laming want of curiosity
+which prevents a subject from being followed up.
+
+They sat in silence for some seconds. With her fingers, she pulled at
+the fringe of the tablecloth. Then, all of a sudden rising from her
+chair, she went over to the jug of roses, which she had placed on the
+writing-table, bent over the flowers with a kind of perceptible
+hesitation. and as suddenly came back to her seat.
+
+"Suppose we went to-night." she said, and for the first time looked
+hard at Maurice.
+
+"To-night?" he had echoed, before he could check himself.
+
+"Ah yes--I forgot. You are going out."
+
+"That's the least of it," he answered, and stood up, fearful lest she
+should sink back into her former listlessness. "But it's Christmas
+Eve. There wouldn't be a soul on the river but ourselves. Are you sure
+you would like it?"
+
+"Just for that reason," she replied, and wound her handkerchief in and
+out of her hands, so afraid was she now that he would refuse. "I could
+be ready in five minutes."
+
+With his brain in a whirl, Maurice went back to the flowershop, and,
+having written a few words of apology on a card, ordered this to be
+sent with his purchase to Miss Jensen. When he returned,
+Louise was ready. But he was not satisfied: she did not know how cold
+it would be: and he made her put on a heavy jacket under her fur cape,
+and take a silk shawl, in which, if necessary, she could muffle up her
+head. He himself carried a travelling-rug for her knees.
+
+"As if we were going on a journey!" she said, as she obeyed him. Her
+eyes shone with a spark of their old light, in approval of the
+adventurous nature of their undertaking.
+
+The hard-frozen streets, over which a cutting wind drove, were
+deserted. In many windows, the golden glory of the CHRISTBAUM was
+visible; the steep blackness of the houses was splashed with patches
+of light. At intervals, a belated holidaymaker was still to be met
+with hurrying townwards: only they two were leaving the town, and its
+innocent revels, behind them. Maurice had a somewhat guilty feeling
+about the whole affair: they also belonged by rights to the town
+to-night. He was aware, too, of a vague anxiety, which he could not
+repress; and these feelings successfully prevented him taking an undue
+pleasure in what was happening to him. He had swung his skates,
+fetched in passing, over his shoulder; and they walked as quickly as
+the slippery snow permitted. Louise had not spoken since leaving the
+house; she also stood mutely by, while the astonished boatman, knocked
+out in the middle of his festivities, unlocked the boat-shed where the
+ice-chairs were kept. The Christmas punch had made him merry; he
+multiplied words, and was even a little facetious at their expense.
+According to him, a snow-storm was imminent, and he warned them not to
+be late in returning.
+
+Maurice helped Louise into the chair, and wrapped the rug round her.
+If she were really afraid, as she had asserted, she did not show it.
+Even after they had started, she remained as silent as before; indeed,
+on looking back, Maurice thought they had not exchanged a word all the
+way to Connewitz. He pushed in a kind of dream; the wind was with
+them, and it was comparatively easy work; but the ice was rough, and
+too hard, and there were seamy cracks to be avoided. The snow had
+drifted into huge piles at the sides; and, as they advanced, it lay
+unswept on their track. It was a hazily bright night, but rapid clouds
+were passing. Not a creature was to be seen: had a rift opened in the
+ice, and had they two gone through it, the mystery of their
+disappearance would never have been solved.
+
+Slight, upright, unfathomable as the night, Louise sat before
+him. What her thoughts were on this fantastic journey, he never knew,
+nor just what secret nerve in her was satisfied by it. By leaning
+sideways, he could see that her eyes were fixed on the grey-white
+stretch to be travelled: her warm breath came back to him; and the
+coil of her hair, with its piquant odour, was so close that, by
+bending, he could have touched it with his lips. But he was still in
+too detached a mood to be happy; he felt, throughout, as if all this
+were happening to some one else, not to him.
+
+At their journey's end, he helped her, cold and stiff, along the snowy
+path to the WALDCAFE. In a corner of the big room, which was empty,
+they sat beside the stove, before cups of steaming coffee. The
+landlady served them herself, and looked with the same curious
+interest as the boatman at the forlorn pair.
+
+Louise had laid her fur cap aside with her other wraps, and had drawn
+off her gloves; and now she sat with her hand propping her chin. She
+was still disinclined to speak; from the expression of her eyes,
+Maurice judged that her thought were very far away. Sitting opposite
+her, he shaded his own eyes with his hand, and scrutinised her
+closely. In the stronger light of this room, he could see more plainly
+than before the havoc trouble had made of her face. And yet, in spite
+of the shadows that had descended on it, it was still to him the most
+adorable face in the world. He could not analyse his feelings any
+better now than in the beginning; but this face had exactly the same
+effect upon him now as then. It seemed to be a matter of the nerves.
+Nor was it the face alone: it was also the lines of throat and chin,
+when she turned her head; it was the gesture with which she fingered
+the knot of hair on her neck; above all, her hands, whose every
+movement was full of meaning: yes, these things sent answering ripples
+through him, as sound does through air.
+
+He had stared too openly: she felt his eyes, and raised her own. For a
+few seconds, they looked at each other. Then she held out her hand.
+
+"You are my friend."
+
+He pressed it, without replying; he could not think of anything
+suitable to say; what rose to his lips was too emotional, too
+tell-tale. But he made a vow that, from this day on, she should never
+doubt the truth of what she said.
+
+"You are my friend."
+
+He would take care of her as no one had ever yet tried to do.
+She might safely give herself into his charge. The unobtrusive aid
+that was mingled tenderness and respect, should always be hers.
+
+"Are you warmer now?"
+
+He could not altogether suppress the new note that had got into his
+voice. All strangeness seemed to have been swept away between them; he
+was wide-awake to the fact that he was sitting alone with her, apart
+from the rest of the world.
+
+He looked at his watch: it was time to go; but she begged for a little
+longer, and so they sat on for another half-hour, in the warm and
+drowsy stillness.
+
+Outside, they found a leaden sky; and they had not gone far before
+snow began to fall: great flakes came flying to them, smiting their
+faces, stinging their eyes, melting on their lips. The wind was
+against them; they were exposed to the full force of the blizzard.
+Maurice pushed till he panted; but their progress was slow. At
+intervals, he stopped, to shake the snow off the rug, and to enwrap
+Louise afresh; and each violent gust that met him when he turned a
+corner, smote him doubly; for he pictured to himself the fury with
+which it must hurl itself against her, sitting motionless before it.
+
+It took them twice as long to return; and when Louise tried to get out
+of the chair, she found herself so paralysed with cold that she could
+hardly stand. Blinded by the snow, she clung to Maurice's arm; he
+heard her teeth chatter, as they toiled their way along the
+ARNDTSTRASSE, through the thick, new snow-layer. Not a droschke was to
+be seen; and they were half-way home before they met one. The driver
+was drunk or asleep, and had first to be roused. Louise sank limply
+into a corner.
+
+The cab slithered and slipped over the dangerous roads, jolting them
+from side to side. Maurice had laid the rug across her knees, and she
+had ceased to shiver. But, by the light of a street-lamp which they
+passed, he was dismayed to see that tears were running down her
+cheeks.
+
+"What is it? Are you so cold?--Just a little patience. We shall soon be
+there."
+
+He took her hand, and chafed it. At this, she began to cry. He did not
+know how to comfort her, and looked out of the window, scanning each
+house they passed, to see if it were not the last. She was still
+crying when the cab drew up. The house-key had been forgotten; there
+was nothing for it but to ring for the landlady, and to stand in the
+wind till she came down. The old woman was not so astonished
+as Maurice had expected; but she was very wroth at the folly of the
+proceeding, and did not scruple to say so.
+
+"SO 'NE DUMMHEIT, SO 'NE DUMMHEIT!" she mumbled, as, between them,
+they got Louise up the stairs; and she treated Maurice's advice
+concerning cordials and hot drinks with scant courtesy.
+
+"JA, JA--JAWOHL!" she sniffed. And, on the landing, the door was shut
+in his face.
+
+
+
+
+
+VIII.
+
+
+
+What she needed, what she had always needed, was a friend, he said to
+himself. She had never had anyone to stand by her and advise her to
+wisdom, in the matter of impulsive acts and wishes. He would be that
+friend. He had not, it was true, made a very happy beginning, with the
+expedition that had ended so unfortunately; but he promised himself
+not to be led into an indiscretion of the kind again. It was a
+friend's part to warn in due time, and to point out the possible
+consequences of a rash act. He only excused his behaviour because he
+had not seen her for over two months, and had felt too sorry for her
+to refuse the first thing she asked of him. But from now on, he would
+be firm. He would win her back to life--reawaken her interest in what
+was going on around her. He would devote himself to serving her: not
+selfishly, as others had done, with their own ends in view; the
+gentle, steady aid should be hers, which he had always longed to give
+her. He felt strong enough to face any contingency: it seemed, indeed,
+as if his love for her had all along been aiming at this issue; as if
+each of the unhappy hours he had spent, since first meeting her, was
+made up for by the words: "You are my friend."
+
+A deep sense of responsibility filled him. In obedience, however, to a
+puritanic streak in his nature, he hedged himself round with
+restrictions, lest he should believe he was setting out on all too
+primrose a path. He erected limiting boundaries, which were not to be
+overstepped. For example, on the two days that followed the memorable
+Christmas Eve, he only made inquiries at the door after Louise, and
+when he learned that the cold she had caught was better, did not
+return. For, on one point, his mind was made up: idle tongues should
+have no fresh cause for gossip.
+
+At the expiry of a fortnight, however, he began to fear that if he
+remained away any longer, she would think him indifferent to her offer
+of friendship. So, late one afternoon, he called to see her. But when
+he was face to face with her, he doubted whether she had given him a
+thought in the interval: she seemed mildly surprised at his coming. It
+was even possible that she had forgotten, by now, what she had said to
+him; and he sought anew for a means of impressing himself on
+her consciousness.
+
+She was crouched in the rocking-chair, close beside the stove, and was
+wrapped in a thick woollen shawl; but the hand she gave him was as
+cold as stone. She was trying to keep warm, she said; she had not been
+properly warm since the night on the ice.
+
+"But there's an easy remedy for that," said Maurice, who came in ruddy
+from the sharp air. "You must go out and walk. Then you will soon get
+warm."
+
+But she shuddered at the suggestion, and also made an expressive
+gesture to indicate the general laxity of her dress--the soiled
+dressing-gown, her untidy hair. Then she leaned forward again, holding
+both hands, palms out, to the mica pane in the door of the stove,
+through which the red coals glowed.
+
+"If only winter were over!"
+
+He gazed at the expressive lines of hand and wrist, and was reminded
+of an adoring Madonna he had somewhere seen engraved: her hands were
+held back in the same way; the thumbs slightly thrown out, the three
+long fingers together, the little one apart: here as there, was the
+same supple, passionate indolence. But he could find no more to say
+than on the occasion of his former visit; she did not help him; and
+more and more did it seem to the young man as if the words he bad gone
+about hugging to him, had never been spoken. After a desperate quarter
+of an hour, he rose to take leave. But simultaneously, she, too, got
+up from the rocking-chair, and, standing pale and uncertain before
+him, asked him if she might trouble him to do something for her. A box
+had been sent to her from England, she told him, while she tumbled
+over the dusty letters and papers accumulated on the writing-table,
+and had been lying unclaimed at the custom-house for several weeks
+now--how many she did not know, and she spread out her fingers, with a
+funny little movement, to show her ignorance. She had only remembered
+it a day or two ago; the dues would no doubt be considerable. If it
+were not too much trouble . . . she would be so grateful; she would
+rather ask him than Mr. Eggis.
+
+"I should be delighted," said Maurice.
+
+He went the next morning, at nine o'clock, spent a trying hour with
+uncivil officials, and, in the afternoon, called to report to Louise.
+As he was saying good-bye to her, he inquired if there were
+nothing else of a similar nature he could do for her; he was glad to
+be of use. Smiling, Louise admitted that there were other things, many
+of them, more than he would have patience for. She should try him and
+see, said Maurice, and laid his hat down again, to hear what they
+were.
+
+As a consequence of this, the following days saw him on various
+commissions in different quarters of the town, scanning the names of
+shops, searching for streets he did not know. But matters did not
+always run smoothly; complications arose, for instance, over a paid
+bill that had been sent in a second time, and over an earlier one that
+had not been paid at all; and Maurice was forced to confess his
+ignorance of the circumstances. When this had happened more than once,
+he sat down, with her consent, at the writing-table, to work through
+the mass of papers, and the contents of a couple of drawers.
+
+In doing this, he became acquainted with some of the more intimate
+details of her life--minute and troublesome details, for which she had
+no aptitude. From her scat at the stove, Louise watched him sorting
+and reckoning, and she was as grateful to him as it was possible for
+her to be, in her present mood. No one had ever done a thing of the
+kind for her before; and she was callous to the fact of its being a
+stranger, who had his hands thus in her private life. When, horrified
+beyond measure at the confusion that reigned in all belonging to her,
+Maurice asked her how she had ever succeeded in keeping order, she
+told him that, before her illness, there had, now and again, come a
+day of strength and purpose, on which she had had the "courage" to
+face these distasteful trifles and to end them. But she did not
+believe such a day would ever come again.
+
+Bills, bills, bills: dozens of bills, of varying dates, sent in once,
+twice, three times, and invariably tossed aside and forgotten--a mode
+of proceeding incomprehensible to Maurice, who had never bought
+anything on credit in his life. And not because she was in want of
+money: there were plenty of gold pieces jingling loose in a drawer;
+but from an aversion, which was almost an inability, to take in what
+the figures meant. And the amounts added up to alarming totals;
+Maurice had no idea what a woman's dress cost, and could only stand
+amazed; but the sum spent on fruit and flowers alone, in two months,
+represented to his eyes a small fortune. Then there was the Bluthner,
+the unused piano; the hire of it had not been paid since the
+previous summer. Three terms were owed at Klemm's musical library,
+from which no music was now borrowed; fees were still being charged
+against her at the Conservatorium, where she had given no formal
+notice of leaving. It really did not matter, she said, with that
+carelessness concerning money, which was characteristic of her; but it
+went against the grain in Maurice to let several pounds be lost for
+want of an effort; and he spent a diplomatic half-hour with the
+secretaries in the BUREAU, getting her released from paying the whole
+of the term that had now begun. As, however, she would not appear
+personally, she was under the necessity of writing a letter, stating
+that she had left the Conservatorium; and when she had promised twice
+to do, it, and it was still unwritten, Maurice stood over her, and
+dictated the words into her pen. A day or two afterwards, he prevailed
+upon her to do the same for Schwarz, to inform him of her illness, and
+to say that, at Easter, if she were better, she would come to him for
+a course of private lessons. This was an idea of Maurice's own, and
+Louise looked up at him before putting down the words.
+
+"It's not true. But if you think I should say so--it doesn't matter."
+
+This was the burden of all she said: nothing mattered, nothing would
+ever matter again. There was not the least need for the half-jesting
+tone in which Maurice clothed his air of authority. She obeyed him
+blindly, doing what he bade her without question, glad to be
+subordinate to his will. As long as he did not ask her to think. or to
+feel, or to stir from her chair beside the stove.
+
+But it was only with regard to small practical things; in matters of
+more importance she was not to be moved. And the day came, only too
+soon, when the positive help Maurice could give her was at an end; she
+did not owe a pfennig to anyone; her letters and accounts were filed
+and in order. Then she seemed to elude him again. He did what lay in
+his power: brought her books that she did not read, brought news and
+scraps of chit-chat, which he thought might interest her and which did
+not, and an endless store of sympathy. But to all he said and did, she
+made the same response: it did not matter.
+
+Since the night on the river, she had not set foot across the
+threshold of her room; nervous fears beset her. Maurice was bent on
+her going out into the open air; he also wished her to mix with people
+again, and thus rid herself of the morbid fancies that were
+creeping on her. But she shrank as he spoke of it, and pressed both
+hands to her face: it was too cold, she murmured, and too cheerless;
+and then the streets! . . . the publicity of the streets, the noise,
+the people! This was what she said to him; to herself she added: and
+all the old familiar places, to each of which a memory was attached!
+He spent hours in urging her to take up some regular occupation; it
+would be her salvation, he believed, and, not allowing himself to be
+discouraged, he returned to the attack, day after day. But she only
+smiled the thin smile with which she defeated most of his proposals
+for her good. Work?--what had she to do with work? It had never been
+anything to her but a narcotic, enabling her to get through those
+hours of the day in which she was alone.
+
+She let Maurice talk on, and hardly heard what he said. He meant well,
+but he did not understand. No one understood. No one but herself knew
+the weight of the burden she had borne since the day when her
+happiness was mercilessly destroyed. Now she could not raise a finger
+to help herself. On waking, in the morning, she turned with loathing
+from the new day. In the semi-darkness of the room, she lay mo
+tionless, half sleeping, or dreaming with open eyes. The clock ticked
+benumbingly the long hours away; the wind howled, or the wind was
+still; snow fell, or it was frostily clear; but nothing
+happened--nothing at all. The day was well ad vanced before she left
+her bed for the seat by the stove; there she brooded until she dragged
+herself back to bed. One day was the exact counterpart of another.
+
+The only break in the deathlike monotony was Maurice's visit. He came
+in, fresh, and eager to see her; he held her hand and said kind things
+to her; he talked persuasively, and she listened or not, as she felt
+disposed. But little though he was able to touch her, she
+unconsciously began to look to his visits; and one day, when he was
+detained and could not come, she was aware of a feeling of injury at
+his absence.
+
+As time went by, however, Maurice felt more and more clearly that he
+was making no headway. His uneasiness increased; for her want of
+spirit had something about it that he could not understand. It began
+to look to him like a somewhat morbid indulgence in grief.
+
+"This can't go on," he said sternly.
+
+She was in one of her most pitiable moods; for there were gradations
+in her unhappiness, as he had learned to know.
+
+"This can't go on. You are killing yourself by inches--and I'm
+a party to it."
+
+For the first time, there was a hint of impatience in his manner. To
+his surprise, Louise raised her head, raised it quickly, as he had not
+seen her make a movement for weeks.
+
+"By inches? Inches only? Oh, I am so strong . . . Nothing hurts me.
+Nothing is of any use."
+
+"If you look in the glass, you will see that you're hurting yourself
+considerably."
+
+"You mean that I'm getting old ?--and ugly?" she caught him up. "Do you
+think I care?--Oh, if I had only had the courage, that day! A few
+grains of something, and it would have been all over, long ago. But I
+wasn't brave enough. And now I have no more courage in me than
+strength in my little finger."
+
+Maurice looked meditatively at her, without replying: this was the
+single occasion on which she had been roused to a retort of any kind;
+and, bitter though her words were, he could not prevent the spark of
+hope which, by their means, was lit in him.
+
+And from this day on, things went forward of themselves. Again and
+again, some harmless observation on his part drew forth a caustic
+reply from her; it was as if, having once experienced it, she found an
+outcry of this kind a relief to her surcharged nerves. At first, what
+she said was directed chiefly against herself--this self for which she
+now nursed a fanatic hatred, since it had failed her in her need. But,
+little by little, he, too, was drawn within the circle of her
+bitterness; indeed, it sometimes seemed as if his very kindness
+incited her, by laying her under an obligation to him, which it was in
+her nature to resent: at others, again, as if she merely wished to try
+him, to see how far she might go.
+
+"Do I really deserve that thrust?" he once could not help asking. He
+smiled, as he spoke, to take the edge off his words.
+
+Louise threw a penitent glance at him, and, for all answer, held out
+her hand.
+
+But, the very next day, after a similar incident, she crossed the room
+to him, with the swiftness of movement that was always disturbing in
+her, contrasting as it did with her customary indolence. "Forgive me.
+I ought not to. And you are the only friend I have. But there's so
+much I must say to some one. If I don't say it, I shall go mad."
+
+
+"Why, of course. That's what I'm here for," said Maurice.
+
+And so it went on--a strange state of things, in which he never called
+her by her name, and seldom touched her hand. He had himself well
+under control--except for the moment immediately before he saw her, and
+the moment after. He could not yet meet her, after the briefest
+absence, unmoved.
+
+For a week on end that penetrating rawness had been abroad, which
+precedes and accompanies a thaw; and one day, early in February, when,
+after the unequalled severity of the winter, the air seemed of an
+incredible mildness, the thaw was there in earnest; on the ice of more
+than three months' standing, pools of water had formed overnight. By
+the JOHANNATEICH, Maurice and Madeleine stood looking dubiously across
+the bank of snow, which, here and there, had already collapsed,
+leaving miniature crater-rings, flecked with moisture. Several people
+who could not tear themselves away, were still flying about the ice,
+dexterously avoiding the watery places; and Dove and pretty Susie Fay
+called out to them that it was ' better than it looked. But Maurice
+was fastidious and Madeleine indifferent; she was really rather tired
+of skating, she admitted, as they walked home, and was ashamed to
+think of the time she had wasted on it. As, however, this particular
+afternoon was already broken into, she would have been glad to go for
+a walk; but Maurice did not take up her suggestion, and parted from
+her at her house-door.
+
+"Spring is in the air," he sought to tempt Louise, when, a few minutes
+later, he entered her room.
+
+She, too, had been aware of the change; for it had aggravated her
+dejection. She raised her eyes to his like a tired child, and had not
+strength enough to make her usual stand against him. Oh, if he really
+wished it so much, she would go out, she said at last. And so he left
+her to dress, and ran to the Conservatorium, arriving just in time for
+a class.
+
+Later on, a curious uneasiness drew him back to see how she had fared.
+It was almost dark, but she had not returned; and he waited for half
+an hour before he heard her step in the hall. Directly she came in, he
+knew that something was the matter.
+
+In each of her movements was a concentrated, but noiseless energy: she
+shut the door after her as if it were never to open again; tore off
+rather than unpinned the thick black veil in which she had
+shrouded herself; threw her hat on the sofa, furs and jacket to the
+hat; then stood motionless, pressing her handkerchief to her lips. Her
+face had emerged from its wrappings with renewed pallor; her eyes
+shone as if with belladonna. She took no notice of the silent figure
+in the corner, did not even look in his direction.
+
+"You've got back," said Maurice, for the sake of saying something.
+"It's too late."
+
+At his words, she dropped on a chair, put her arms on the table, and
+hid her face in them.
+
+"What's the matter? Has anything happened?" he asked, in quick alarm,
+as she burst into violent sobs. He should have been accustomed to her
+way of crying by this time--it sounded worse than it was, as he
+knew--but it invariably racked him anew. He stood over her; but the
+only comfort he ventured on was to lay his hand on her hair--this wild
+black hair, which met his fingers springily, with a will of its own.
+
+"What is the matter?" he besought her. "Tell me, Louise--tell me what
+it is."
+
+He had to ask several times before he received an answer. Finally, she
+sobbed in a muffled voice, without raising her head: "How could you
+make me go out! Oh, how COULD you!"
+
+"What do you mean? I don't understand. What is it?" He had visions of
+her being annoyed or insulted.
+
+But she only repeated: "How could you! Oh, it was cruel of you!" and
+wept afresh.
+
+Word by word, Maurice drew her story from her. There was not very much
+to tell.
+
+She had gone out, and had walked hurriedly along quiet by-streets to
+the ROSENTAL. But before she had advanced a hundred yards, her courage
+began to fail, and the further she went, the more her spirits sank.
+Her surroundings were indescribably depressing: the smirched, steadily
+retreating snow was leaving bare all the drab brownness it had
+concealed--all the dismal little gardens, and dirty corners. Houses,
+streets and people wore their most bedraggled air. Particularly the
+people: they were as ugly as the areas of roof and stone, off which
+the soft white coating had slid; their contours were as painful to
+see. And the mud--oh, God, the mud! It spread itself over every inch of
+the way; the roads were rivers of filth, which spattered and splashed;
+at the sides of the streets, the slush was being swept into beds.
+Before she had gone any distance, her boots and skirts were heavy with
+it; and she hated mud, she sobbed--hated it, loathed it, it
+affected her with a physical disgust--and this lie might have known
+when he sent her out. In the ROSENTAL, it was no better; the paths
+were so soaked that they squashed under her feet; on both sides, lay
+layers of rotten leaves from the autumn; the trees were only a
+net-work of blackened twigs, their trunks surrounded by an undergrowth
+that was as ragged as unkempt hair. And everything was mouldering: the
+smell of moist, earthy decay reminded her of open graves. Not a soul
+was visible but herself. She sat on a seat, the only living creature
+in the scene, and the past rose before her with resistless force: the
+intensity of her happiness; the base cruelty of his conduct; her
+misery, her unspeakable misery; her forlorn desolation, which was of a
+piece with the desolation around her, and which would never again be
+otherwise, though she lived to be an old woman.--How long she sat
+thinking things of this kind, she did not know. But all of a sudden
+she started up, frightened both by her wretched thoughts and by the
+loneliness of the wood; and she fled, not looking behind her, or
+pausing to take breath, till she reached the streets. Into the first
+empty droschke she met, she had sunk exhausted, and been driven home.
+
+It was of no use trying to reason with her, or to console her.
+
+"I can't bear my life," she sobbed. "It's too hard . . . and there is
+no one to help me. If I had done anything to deserve it . . . then it
+would be different . . . then I shouldn't complain. But I didn't--
+didn't do anything--unless it was that I cared too much. At least it
+was a mistake--a dreadful mistake. I should never have shown him how I
+cared: I should have made him believe he loved me best. But I was a
+fool. I flung it all at his feet. And it was only natural he should
+get tired of me. The wonder was that I held him so long. But, oh, how
+can one care as I did, and yet be able to plot and plan? I couldn't.
+It isn't in me to do it."
+
+She wept despairingly, with her head on her outstretched arms. When
+she raised it again, her tear-stained face looked out, Medusa-like,
+from its setting of ruffled hair. More to herself than to the young
+man, as if, on this day, secret springs had been touched in her, she
+continued with terse disconnectedness: "I couldn't believe it; I
+wouldn't--even when I heard it from his own lips. You thought, all of
+you, that I was ill; but I wasn't; I was only trying to get used to
+the terrible thought--just as a suddenly blinded man has to get used to
+being always in the dark. And while I was still struggling
+came Madeleine, with her cruel tongue, and told me--you know what she
+told me. Oh, if his leaving me had been hard to bear, this stung like
+scorpions. I wonder I didn't go mad. I should have, if you hadn't come
+to help me. For a day and night, I did not move from the corner of
+that sofa there. I turned her words over till there was no sense left
+in them. My nails cut my palms."
+
+Her clasped hands were slightly stretched from her: her whole attitude
+betrayed the tension at which she was speaking. "Oh, my God, how I
+hated him . . . hated him . . . how I hate him still! If I live to be
+an old, old woman, I shall never forgive him. For, in time, I might
+have learnt to bear his leaving me, if it had only been his work that
+took him from me. It was always between us, as it was; but it was at
+least only a pale brain thing, not living flesh and blood. But that
+all the time he should have been deceiving me, taking pains to do
+it--that I cannot forgive. At first, I implored, I prayed there might
+be some mistake: you, too, told me there was. And I hoped against
+hope--till I saw her. Then, I knew it was true-----as plainly as if it
+had been written on that wall." She paused for breath, in this bitter
+pleasure of laying her heart bare. "For I wasn't the person he could
+always have been satisfied with--I see it now. He liked a woman to be
+fair, and soft, and gentle--not dark, and hot-tempered. It was only a
+phase, a fancy, that brought him to me, and it couldn't have lasted
+for ever. But all I asked of him was common honesty--to be open with
+me: it wasn't much to ask, was it? Not more than we expect of a
+stranger in the street. But it was too much for him, all the same. And
+so . . . now . . . I have nothing left to remind me that I ever knew
+him. That night, when I had seen her, I burned everything--every
+photograph, every scrap of writing I had ever had from him . . . if
+only one could burn memories too! I had to tear my heart over it; I
+used to think I felt it bleeding, drop by drop. For all the suffering
+fell on me, who had done nothing. He went free."
+
+"Are you sure of that? It may have been hard for him, too--harder than
+you think." Maurice was looking out of the window, and did not turn.
+
+She shook her head. "The person who cares, can't scheme and contrive.
+He didn't care. He never really cared for me--only for himself; at
+heart, he was cold and selfish. No, I paid for it all--I who hate and
+shrink from pain, who would do anything to avoid it. I want to
+go through life knowing only what is bright and happy; and time and
+again, I am crushed and flung down. But, in all my life, I haven't
+suffered like this. And now perhaps you understand, why I never want
+to hear his name again, and why I shall never--not if I live to be a
+hundred years old--never forgive him. It isn't in me to do it. As a
+child, I ground my heel into a rose if it pricked me."
+
+There was a silence. Then she sighed, and pushed her hair back from
+forehead. "I don't know why I should say all this to you," she said
+contritely. "But often, just with you, I seem to forget what I am
+saying. It must be, I think, because you're so quiet yourself."
+
+At this, Maurice turned and came over to her. "No, it's for another
+reason. You need to say these things to some one. You have brooded
+over them to yourself till they are magnified out of all proportion.
+It's the best thing in the world for you to say them aloud." He drew
+up a chair, and sat down beside her. "Listen to me. You told me once,
+not very long ago, that I was your friend. Well, I want to speak to
+you to-night as that friend, and to play the doctor a little as well.
+Will you not go away from here, for a time?--go away and be with people
+who know nothing of . . . all this--people you don't need to be afraid
+of? Let yourself be persuaded. You have such a healthy nature. Give it
+a chance."
+
+She looked at him with a listless forbearance. "Don't go on. I know
+everything you are going to say.--That's always the way with you calm,
+quiet people, who are not easily moved yourselves. You still but faith
+in these trite remedies; for you've never known the ills they're
+supposed to cure."
+
+"Never mind me. It's you we have to think of. And I want you to give
+my old-fashioned remedy a trial."
+
+But she did not answer, and again a few minutes went by, before she
+stretched out her hand to him. "Forget what I've said to-night. I
+shall never speak of it again.--But then you, too, must promise not to
+make me go out alone--to think and remember--in all the dirt and
+ugliness of the streets."
+
+And Maurice promised.
+
+
+
+
+IX.
+
+
+
+The unnatural position circumstances had forced him into, was to him
+summed up in the fact that he had spoken in defence of the man he
+despised above all others. Only at isolated moments was he content
+with the part he played; it was wholly unlike what he had intended. He
+had wished to be friend and mentor to her, and he was now both; but
+nevertheless, there was something wrong about his position. It seemed
+as if he had at first been satisfied with too low a place in her
+esteem, ever to allow of him taking a higher one. He was conscious
+that in her liking for him, there was a drop of contempt. And he
+tormented himself with such a question as: should a new crisis in her
+life arise, would she, now that she knows you, turn to you? And in
+moments of despondency he answered no. He felt the tolerance that
+lurked in her regard for him. Kindness and care on his part were not
+enough.
+
+None of his friends had an idea of what was going on. No one he knew
+lived in the neighbourhood of the BRUDERSTRASSE; and, the skating at
+an end, he was free to spend his time as he chose. When another brief
+nip of frost occurred, he alleged pressure of work, and did not take
+advantage of it.
+
+Then, early one morning, Dove paid him a visit, with a list in his
+hand. Since the night of the skating party, his acquaintances had not
+seen much of Dove; for he had been in close attendance on the pretty
+little American, who made no scruple of exacting his services. Now,
+after some preamble, it came out that he wished to include Maurice in
+a list of mutual friends, who were clubbing to give a ball--a
+"Bachelors' Ball," Dove called it, since the gentlemen were to pay for
+the tickets, and to invite the ladies. But Maurice, vexed at the
+interruption, made it clear that he had neither time nor inclination
+for an affair of this kind: he did not care a rap for dancing. And
+after doing his best to persuade him, and talking round the matter for
+half an hour, Dove said he did not of course wish to press anyone
+against his will, and departed to disturb other people.
+
+Maurice had also to stand fire from Madeleine; for she had counted on
+his inviting her. She was first incredulous, then offended, at
+his refusal: and she pooh-poohed his strongest argument--that he did
+not own a dress-suit. If that was all, she knew a shop in the BRUHL,
+where such things could be hired for a song.
+
+Maurice now thought the matter closed. Not many days later, however,
+Dove appeared again, with a crestfallen air. He had still over a dozen
+tickets on his hands, and, at the low price fixed, unless all were
+sold, the expenses of the evening would not be covered. In order to
+get rid of him, Maurice bought a ticket, on the condition that he was
+not expected to use it, and also suggested some fresh people Dove
+might try; so that the latter went off with renewed courage on his
+disagreeable errand.
+
+Maurice mentioned the incident to Louise that evening, as he mentioned
+any trifle he thought might interest her. He sat on the edge of his
+chair, and did not mean to stay; for he had found her on the sofa with
+a headache.
+
+So far, she had listened to him with scant attention; but at this, she
+raised her eyebrows.
+
+"Then you don't care for dancing?"--she could hardly believe it.
+
+He repeated the words he had used to Dove.
+
+She smiled faintly, looking beyond him, at a sombre patch of sky.
+
+"I should think not. If it were me!----" She raised her hand, and
+considered her fingers.
+
+"If it were you?--yes?"
+
+But she did not continue.
+
+It had been almost a spring day: that, no doubt, accounted for her
+headache. Maurice made a movement to rise. But Louise turned quickly
+on her side, and, in her own intense way, said: "Listen. You have the
+ticket, you say? Use it, and take me with you. Will you?"
+
+He smiled as at the whim of a child. But she was in earnest.
+
+"Will you?"
+
+"No, of course not."
+
+He tempered his answer with the same smile. But she was not pleased--he
+saw that. Her nostrils tightened, and then, dilated, as they had a way
+of doing when she was annoyed. For some time after, she did not speak.
+
+But the very next day, when he was remonstrating with her over some
+small duty which she had no inclination to perform, she turned on him
+with an unreasonable irritation. "You only want me to do
+disagreeable things. Anything that is pleasant, you set yourself
+against."
+
+It took him a minute to grasp that she was referring to what he had
+said the evening before.
+
+"Yes, but then . . . I didn't think you were in earnest."
+
+"Am I in the habit of saying things I don't mean? And haven't you said
+yourself that I am killing myself, shut up in here?--that I must go out
+and mix with people? Very well, here is my chance."
+
+He kept silence: he did not know whether she was not mainly inspired
+by a spirit of contradiction, and he was afraid of inciting her, by
+resistance, to say something she would be unable to retract. "I don't
+think you've given the matter sufficient thought," he said at last.
+"It can't be decided offhand."
+
+She was angry, even more with herself than with him. "Oh, I know what
+you mean. You think I shall be looked askance at. As if it mattered
+what people say! All my life I haven't cared, and I shall not begin
+now, when I have less reason than ever before."
+
+He did not press the subject; he hoped she would change her mind, and
+thus render further discussion unnecessary. But this was not the case;
+she clung to the idea, and was deaf to reason. To a certain extent, he
+could feel for her; but he was too troubled by the thought of
+unpleasant possibilities, not to endeavour to persuade her against it:
+he knew, as she did not, how unkindly she had been spoken of; and he
+was not sure whether her declared bravado was strong enough to sustain
+her. But the more he reasoned, the more determined she was to have her
+own way; and she took his efforts in very bad part.
+
+"You pretend to be solicitous about me," she said one afternoon, from
+her seat by the fire. "Yet when a chance of diversion comes you
+begrudge it to me. You would rather I mouldered on here."
+
+"That's not generous of you. It is only you I am thinking of--in all
+this ridiculous affair."
+
+The word stung her. "Ridiculous? How dare you say that! I'm still
+young, am I not? And I have blood in my veins, not water. Well, I want
+to feel it. For months now, I have been walled up in this tomb. Now I
+want to live. Not--do you understand?--to go out alone, on a filthy day,
+with no companion but my own thoughts. I want to dance--to
+forget myself--with light and music. It's the most natural thing in the
+world. Anyone but you would think so."
+
+"It is not life you mean; it's excitement."
+
+"What it means is that you don't want to take me.--Yes, that's what it
+is. But I can get some one else. I will send for Eggis; he will have
+no objection."
+
+"Why drag in that cad's name? You know very well if you do go, it will
+be with me, and no one else."
+
+A slight estrangement grew up between them. Maurice was hurt: she had
+shown too openly the small value she set on his opinion. In addition
+to this, he was disagreeably affected by her craving for excitement at
+any cost. To his mind, there was more than a touch of impropriety in
+the proceeding; it was just as if a mourner of a few months' standing
+should suddenly discard his mourning, and with it all the other
+decencies of grief.
+
+She had not been entirely wrong in accusing him of unreadiness to
+accompany her. When he pictured to himself the astonished faces of his
+friends, he found it impossible to look forward to the event with
+composure. He saw now that it would have been better to make no secret
+of his friendship with Louise; so harmless was it that every one he
+knew might have assisted at it; but now, the very abruptness of its
+disclosure would put it in a bad light. Through Dove, he noised it
+abroad that he would probably be present at the ball after all; but he
+shunned Madeleine with due precaution, and could not bring himself
+even to hint who his companion might be. In his heart, he still
+thought it possible that Louise might change her mind at the last
+moment--take fright in the end, at what she might have to face.
+
+But the night came, and this had not happened. While he dressed
+himself in the hired suit, which was too large here, too small there,
+he laid a plan of action for the evening. Since it had to be gone
+through with, it must be carried off in a highhanded way. He would do
+what he could to make her presence in the hall seem natural; he would
+be attentive, without devoting himself wholly to her; and he would
+induce her to leave early.
+
+He called for her at eight o'clock. The landlady said that Fraulein
+was not quite ready, and told him to wait in the passage. But the door
+of the room was ajar, and Louise herself called to him to come in.
+
+It was comparatively dark; for she had the lamp behind the
+screen, where he heard her moving about. Her skirts rustled; drawers
+and cupboards were pulled noisily open. Then she came out, with the
+lamp in her hand.
+
+Maurice was leaning against the piano. He raised his eyes, and made a
+step forward, to take the lamp from her. But after one swift, startled
+glance, he drew back, colouring furiously. For a moment he could not
+collect himself: his heart seemed to have leapt into his throat, and
+there to be hammering so hard that he had no voice with which to
+answer her greeting.
+
+Owing to what he now termed his idiotic preoccupation with himself, he
+had overlooked the fact that she, too, would be in evening dress.
+Another thing was, he had never seen Louise in any but street-dress,
+or the loose dressing-gown. Now he called himself a fool and absurd;
+this was how she was obliged to be. Convention decreed it, hence it
+was perfectly decorous; it was his own feelings that were unnatural,
+overstrained. But, in the same breath, a small voice whispered to him
+that all dresses were not like this one; also that every girl was not
+of a beauty, which, thus emphasised, made the common things of life
+seen poor and stale.
+
+Louise wore a black dress, which glistened over all its surface, as if
+it were sown with sparks; it wound close about her, and out behind her
+on the floor. But this was only the sheath, from which rose the
+whiteness of her arms and shoulders, and the full column of her
+throat, on which the black head looked small. Until now, he had seen
+her bared wrist--no more. Now the only break on the long arm was a band
+of black velvet, which as it were insisted on the petal-white purity
+of the skin, and served in place of a sleeve.
+
+Strange thoughts coursed through the young man's mind. His first
+impulse had been to avert his eyes; in this familiar room it did not
+seem fitting to see her dressed so differently from the way he had
+always known her. Before, however, he had followed this sensation to
+an end, he made himself the spontaneous avowal that, until now, he had
+never really seen her. He had known and treasured her face--her face
+alone. Now he became aware that to the beautiful head belonged also a
+beautiful body, that, in short, every bit of her was beautiful and
+desirable. And this feeling in its turn was overcome by a painful
+reflection: others besides himself would make a similar observation;
+she was about to show herself to a hundred other eyes: and this struck
+him as such an unbearable profanation, that he could have gone
+down on his knees to her, to implore her to stay at home.
+
+Unconscious of his embarrassment, Louise had gone to the
+console-glass; and there, with the lamp held first above her head,
+then placed on the console-table, she critically examined her
+appearance. As if dissatisfied, she held a velvet bow to the side of
+her hair, and considered the effect; she took a powderpuff, and patted
+cheeks and neck with powder. Next she picked up a narrow band of
+velvet, on which a small star was set, and put it round her throat.
+But the clasp would not meet behind, and, having tried several times
+in vain to fasten it, she gave an impatient exclamation.
+
+"I can't get it in."
+
+As Maurice did not offer to help her, she went out of the room with
+the thing in her hand. During the few seconds she was absent, the
+young man racked his brain to invent telling reasons which would
+induce her not to go; but when she returned, slightly flushed at the
+landlady's ready flattery, she was still so engrossed in herself, and
+so unmindful of him, that he recognised once more his utter
+powerlessness. He only half existed for her this evening: her manner
+was as different as her dress.
+
+She gathered her skirts high under her cloak, displaying her feet in
+fur-lined snow-boots. In the turmoil of his mind, Maurice found
+nothing to say as they went. But she did not notice his silence; there
+was a suppressed excitement in her very walk; and she breathed in the
+cold, crisp air with open lips and nostrils, like a wild animal.
+
+"Oh, how glad I am I came! I might still have been sitting in that
+dull room--when I haven't danced for years--and when I love it so!"
+
+"I can't understand you caring about it," he said, and the few words
+contained all his bitterness.
+
+"That is only because you don't know me," she retorted, and laughed.
+"Dancing is a passion with me. I have dance-rhythms in my blood, I
+think.--My mother was a dancer."
+
+He echoed her words in a helpless way, and a set of new images ran
+riot in his brain. But Louise only smiled, and said no more.
+
+They were late in arriving; dancing had already begun; the cloak-rooms
+were black with coats and mantles. In the narrow passage that divided
+the rooms, two Englishmen were putting on their gloves. As Maurice
+changed his shoes, close to the door, he overheard one of
+these men say excitedly: "By Jove, there's a pair of shoulders! Who
+the deuce is it?"
+
+Maurice knew the speaker by sight: he was a medical student, named
+Herries, who, on the ice, had been conspicuous for his skill as a
+skater. He had a small dark moustache, and wore a bunch of violets in
+his buttonhole.
+
+"You haven't been here long enough, old man, or you wouldn't need to
+ask," answered his companion. Then he dropped his voice, and made a
+somewhat disparaging remark--so low, however, but what the listener was
+forced to hear it, too.
+
+Both laughed a little. But though Maurice rose and clattered his
+chair, Herries persisted, with an Englishman's supreme indifference to
+the bystander: "Do you think she can dance?"
+
+"Can't tell. Looks a trifle heavy."
+
+"Well, I'll risk it. Come on. Let's get some one to introduce us."
+
+The blood had rushed to Maurice's head and buzzed there: another
+second, and he would have stepped out and confronted the speaker. But
+the incident had passed like a flash. And it was better so: it would
+have been a poor service to her, to begin the evening with an
+unpleasantness. Besides, was this not what he had been bracing himself
+to expect? He looked stealthily over at Louise; considering the
+proximity of the rooms, it was probable that she, too, had overheard
+the derogatory words. But when she had put on her gloves, she took his
+arm without a trace of discomfiture.
+
+They entered the hall at the close of a polka, and slipped unnoticed
+into the train of those who promenaded. But they had not gone once
+round, when they were the observed of all eyes; although he looked
+straight in front of him, Maurice could see the astonished eyebrows
+and open mouths that greeted their advance. At one end of the hall was
+an immense mirror: he saw that Louise, who was flushed, held her head
+high, and talked to him without a pause. In a kind of bravado, she
+made him take her round a second time; and after the third, which was
+a solitary progress, they remained standing with their backs to the
+mirror. Eggis at once came up, with Herries in his train, and, on
+learning that she had no programme, the latter ran off to fetch one.
+Before he returned, a third man had joined them, and soon she was the
+centre of a little circle. Herries, having returned with the
+programme, would not give it up until he had put his initials
+opposite several dances. Louise only smiled--a rather artificial smile
+that had been on her lips since she entered the hall.
+
+Maurice had fallen back, and now stood unnoticed behind the group.
+Once Louise turned her head, and raised her eyebrows interrogatively;
+but a feeling that was mingled pride and dismay restrained him; and
+as, even when the choosing of dances was over, he did not come
+forward, she walked down the hall on Herries's arm. The musicians
+began to tune; Dove, as master of ceremonies, was flying about, with
+his hands in gloves that were too large for him; people ranged
+themselves for the lancers in lines and squares. Maurice lost sight
+for a moment of the couple he was watching. As soon as the dance
+began, however, he saw them again; they were waltzing to the
+FRANCAISE, at the lower end of the hall.
+
+He was driven from the corner in which he had taken refuge, by hearing
+some one behind him say, in an angry whisper: "I call it positively
+horrid of her to come." It was Susie Fay who spoke; through some
+oversight, she had not been asked to dance. Moving slowly along,
+behind the couples that began a schottische, he felt a tap on his arm,
+and, looking round, saw Miss Jensen. She swept aside her ample skirts,
+and invited him to a seat beside her. But he remained standing.
+
+"You don't care for dancing?" she queried. And, when he had replied:
+"Well, say, now, Mr. Guest,--we are all dying to know--however have you
+gotten Louise Dufrayer along here this evening? It's the queerest
+thing out."
+
+"Indeed?" said the young man drily.
+
+"Well, maybe queer is not just the word. But, why, we all presumed she
+was perfectly inconsolable--thinking only of another world. That's so.
+And then you work a miracle, and out she pops, fit as can be."
+
+"I persuaded her . . . for the sake of variety," mumbled Maurice.
+
+Little Fauvre, the baritone, had come up; but Miss Jensen did not heed
+his meek reminder that this was their dance.
+
+"That was excessively kind of you," said the big woman, and looked at
+Maurice with shrewd, good-natured eyes. "And no doubt, Louise is most
+grateful. She seems to be enjoying herself. Keep quiet, Fauvre, do,
+till I am ready.--But I don't like her dress. It's a lovely goods, and
+no mistake. But it ain't suitable for a little hop like this. It's too
+much."
+
+"How Miss Dufrayer dresses is none of my business."
+
+"Well, maybe not.--Now, Fauvre, come along"--she called it "Fover." "I
+reckon you think you've waited long enough."
+
+Maurice, left to himself again, was astonished to hear Madeleine's
+voice in his ear. She had made her way to him alone.
+
+"For goodness' sake, pull yourself together," she said cuttingly.
+"Every one in the hall can see what's the matter with you."
+
+Before he could answer, she was claimed by her partner--one of the few
+Germans scattered through this Anglo-American gathering. "Is zat your
+brozzer?" Maurice heard him ask as they moved away. He watched them
+dancing together, and found it a ridiculous sight: round Madeleine,
+tall and angular, the short, stout man rotated fiercely. From time to
+time they stopped, to allow him to wipe his face.
+
+Maurice contemplated escaping from the hall to some quiet room beyond.
+But as he was edging forward, he ran into Dove's arms, and that was
+the end of it. Dove, it seemed, had had his eye on him. The originator
+of the ball confessed that he was not having a particularly good time;
+he had everything to superintend--the dances, the musicians, the
+arrangements for supper. Besides this, there were at least a dozen too
+many ladies present; he believed some of the men had simply given
+their tickets away to girl-friends, and had let them come alone. So
+far, Dove had been forced to sacrifice himself entirely, and he was
+hot and impatient.
+
+"Besides, I've routed half a dozen men out of the billiardroom, more
+than once," he complained irrelevantly, wiping the moisture from his
+brow. "But it's of no----Now just look at that!" he interrupted
+himself. "The 'cellist has had too much to drink already, and they're
+handing him more beer. Another glass, and he won't be able to play at
+all.--I say, you're not dancing. My dear fellow, it really won't do.
+You must help me with some of these women."
+
+Taking Maurice by the arm, he steered him to a corner of the hall
+where sat two little provincial English sisters, looking hopeless and
+forlorn. Who had invited them, it was impossible to say; but no one
+wished to dance with them. They were dressed exactly alike, were alike
+in face, too--as like as two nuts, thought Maurice, as he bowed to
+them. Their hair was of a nutty brown, their eyes were brown, and they
+wore brown d resses. He led them out to dance, one after the other,
+and they were overwhelmingly grateful to him. He could hardly
+tell them apart; but that did not matter; for, when he took one back
+to her seat, the other sat waiting for her turn.
+
+In dancing, he was thrown together with more of his friends, and he
+was not slow to catch the looks--cynical, contemptuous, amused--that
+were directed at him. Some were disposed to wink, and to call him a
+sly dog; others found food for malicious gossip in the way Louise had
+deserted him; and, when he met Miss Martin in a quadrille, she snubbed
+his advances with a definiteness that left no room for doubt.
+
+Round dances succeeded to square dances; the musicians' playing grew
+more mechanical; flowers drooped, and dresses were crushed. An
+Englishman or two ran about complaining of the ventilation. As often
+as Maurice saw Louise, she was with Herries. At first, she had at
+least made a feint of dancing with other people; now she openly showed
+her preference. Always this dapper little man, with the violets and
+the simpering smile.
+
+They were the two best dancers in the hall. Louise, in particular,
+gave herself up to the rhythm of the music with an abandon not often
+to be seen in a ball-room. Something of the professional about it,
+said Maurice to himself as he watched her; and, in his own estimation,
+this was the hardest thought he had yet had of her.
+
+At supper, he sat between the two little sisters, whose birdlike
+chatter acted upon him as a reiterated noise acts on the nerves of one
+who is trying to sleep. He could hardly bring himself to answer
+civilly. At the further end of the table, on the same side as he, sat
+Louise. She was with those who had been her partners during the
+evening. They were drinking champagne, and were very lively. Maurice
+could not see her face; but her loud, excited laugh jarred on his
+ears.
+
+Afterwards, the same round was to begin afresh, except that the
+sisters had generously introduced him to a friend. But when the first
+dance was over, Maurice abruptly excused himself to his surprised
+partner, and made his way out of the hall.
+
+At the disordered supper-table, a few people still lingered; and
+deserters were again knocking balls about the green cloth of the
+billiard-table. Maurice went past them, and up a flight of stairs that
+led to a gallery overlooking the hall. This gallery was in
+semidarkness. At the back of it, chairs were piled one on top of the
+other; but the two front rows had been left standing, from the last
+concert held in the building, and here, two or three couples were
+sitting out the dance. He went into the extreme corner, where it was
+darkest.
+
+At last he was alone. He no longer needed to dance with girls
+he did not care a jot for, or to keep up appearances. He was free to
+be as wretched as he chose, and he availed himself unreservedly of the
+chance. It was not only the personal slight Louise had put upon him
+throughout the evening, making use of him, as it were, to the very
+door, and then throwing him off: but that she could be attracted by a
+mere waxen prettiness, and well-fitting clothes--for the first time,
+distrust of her was added to his hurt amazement.
+
+He had not been in his hiding-place for more than a very few minutes,
+when the door he had entered by reopened, and a couple came down the
+steps to the corner where he was sitting.
+
+"Oh, there's some one there!" cried Louise at the sight of the dark
+figure. "Maurice! Is it you? What are you doing here?"
+
+"Sssh!" said Herries warningly, afraid lest her clear voice should
+carry too far.
+
+"Yes. It's me," said Maurice stiffly, and rose. "But I'm going. I
+shan't disturb you."
+
+"Disturb?" she said, and laughed a little. "Nonsense! Of course not."
+From her position on Herries's arm, she looked down at him, uncertain
+how to proceed. Then she laughed again. "But how fortunate that I
+found you! The next is our dance, isn't it?"---she pretended to
+examine her programme. "It will begin in a minute. I think I'll wait
+here."
+
+"The next may be, but not the next again, remember," said Herries,
+before he allowed her to withdraw her arm. Louise nodded and laughed.
+"AUF WIEDERSEHEN!"
+
+But after the door had dosed behind Herries, she remained standing, a
+step higher than Maurice, tipping her face with her handkerchief.
+
+When she descended the step, and was on a level with him, he could see
+how her eyes glittered.
+
+"Was that lie necessary?--for me?"
+
+"What's the matter, Maurice? Why are you like this? Why have you not
+asked me to dance?"
+
+He was unpleasantly worked on by her free use of his name.
+
+"I, you? Have I had a chance?"
+
+"Wasn't it for you to make the chance? Or did you expect me to come to
+you: Mr. Guest, will you do me the honour of dancing with me?--Oh,
+please, don't be cross. Don't spoil my pleasure--for this one night at
+least."
+
+But she laughed again as she spoke, as though she did not fear
+his power to do so, and laid her hand on his arm: and, at her touch,
+he seemed to feel through sleeve and glove, the superabundance of
+vitality that was throbbing in her this evening. She was unable to be
+still for a moment; in the delicate pallor of her face, her eyes
+burned, black as jet.
+
+"Are you really enjoying yourself so much? What CAN you find in it
+all?"
+
+"Come--come down and dance. Listen!--can you resist that music? Quick,
+let us go down."
+
+"I dance badly. I'm not Herries."
+
+"But I can suit my step to anyone's. Won't you dance with me?--when I
+ask you?"
+
+She had been leaning forward, looking over the balustrade at the
+couples arranging themselves below. Now she turned, and put her arm
+through his.
+
+They went down the stairs, into the hall. Close beside the door at
+which they entered, they began to dance.
+
+In all these months, Maurice had scarcely touched her hand. Now
+convention required that he should take her in his arms: he had
+complete control over her, could draw her closer, or put her further
+away, as he chose. For the first round or two, this was enough to
+occupy him entirely: the proximity of the lithe body, the nearness of
+the dark head, the firm, warm resistance that her back offered to his
+hand.
+
+They were dancing to the music of the WIENER BLUT, most melancholy gay
+of waltzes, in which the long, legato, upward sweep of the violins
+says as plainly as in words that all is vanity. But with the passing
+of the players to the second theme, the melody made a more direct
+appeal: there was a passionate unrest in it, which disquieted all who
+heard if. The dancers, with flushed cheeks and fixed eyes, responded
+instinctively to its challenge: the lapidary swing with which they
+followed the rhythm became less circumspect; and a desire to dance
+till they could dance no more, took possession of those who were
+fanatic. No one yielded to the impulse more readily than Louise; she
+was quite carried away. Maurice felt the change in her; an uneasiness
+seized him, and increased with every turn. She had all but closed her
+eyes; her hair brushed his shoulder; she answered to the lightest
+pressure of his arm. Even her face looked strange to him: its
+expression, its individuality, all that made it hers, was as if wiped
+out. Involuntarily he straightened himself, and his own movements grew
+stiffer, in his effort to impart to her some of his own restraint. But
+it was useless. And, as they turned and turned, to the
+maddening music, cold spots broke out on his forehead: in this manner
+she had danced with all her previous partners, and would dance with
+those to come. Such a pang of jealousy shot through him at the thought
+that, without knowing what he was doing, he pulled her sharply to him.
+And she yielded to the tightened embrace as a matter of course.
+
+With a jerk he stopped dancing and loosened his hold of her.
+
+She stood and blinked at lights and people: she had been far away, in
+a world of melody and motion, and could not come back to herself all
+at once. Wonderingly she looked at Maurice; for the music was going
+on, and no one else had left off dancing; and, with the same of
+comprehension, but still too dazed to resist, she followed him up the
+stairs.
+
+"It's easy to see you don't care for dancing," she said, when they
+were back in the corner of the gallery. Her breath came unsteadily,
+and again she touched her face with the small, scented handkerchief.
+
+"No. Not dancing like that," he answered rudely. But now again, as so
+often before, directly it was put into words, his feeling seemed
+strained and puritanic.
+
+Louise leaned forward in her seat to look into his face.
+
+"Like what?--what do you mean? Oh, you foolish boy, what is the matter
+with you to-night? You will tell me next I can't dance."
+
+"You dance only too well."
+
+"But you would rather I was a wooden doll--is that it How is one to
+please you? First you are vexed with me because YOU did not ask ME to
+dance; and when I send my partner away, on your account, you won't
+finish one dance with me but exact that I shall sit here, in a dark
+corner, and let that glorious music go by. I don't know what to make
+of you." But her attention had already wandered to the dancers below.
+"Look at them!--Oh, it makes me envious! No one else has dreamt of
+stopping yet. For no matter how tired you are beforehand, when you
+dance you don't feel it, and as long as the music goes on, you must go
+on, too, though it lasted all night.--Oh, how often I have longed for a
+night like this! And then I've never met a better dancer than Mr.
+Herries."
+
+"And for the sake of his dancing, you can forget what a puppy he is?"
+
+"Puppy?" At the warmth of his interruption, she laughed, the low,
+indolent laugh, by means of which she seemed determined, on this
+night, to keep anything from touching her too nearly. "How
+crude you men are! Because he is handsome and dances well, you reason
+that he must necessarily be a simpleton."
+
+"Handsome? Yes--if a tailor's dummy is handsome."
+
+But Louise only laughed again, like one over whom words had no power.
+"If he were the veriest scarecrow, I would forgive him--for the sake of
+his dancing."
+
+She leant forward, letting her gloved arms lie along her knees; and
+above the jet-trimmed line of her bodice, he saw her white chest rise
+and fall. At a slight sound behind, she turned and looked expectantly
+at the door.
+
+"No, not yet," said the young man at her side. "Besides, even if it
+were, this is my dance, remember. You said so yourself."
+
+"You are rude to-night, Maurice--and LANGWEILIG." She averted her face,
+and tapped her foot. But the content that lapped her made it
+impossible for her to take anything earnestly amiss, and even that
+others should show displeasure jarred on her like a false note.
+
+"Don't be angry. To-morrow it will all be different again. Let me have
+just this one night of pleasure--let me enjoy myself in my own way."
+
+"To hear you talk, one would think I had no wish but to spoil your
+pleasure."
+
+"Oh, I didn't mean that. You misunderstand everything."
+
+"What I say or think has surely no weight with you?"
+
+She gave up the attempt to pacify him, and leaning back in her chair,
+stifled a yawn. Then with an exclamation of: "How hot it is up here!"
+she peeled off her gloves. With her freed hands, she tidied her hair,
+drawing out and thrusting in again the silver dagger that held the
+coil together. Then she let her bare arms fall on her lap, where they
+lay in strong outline against the black of her dress. One was almost
+directly under Maurice's eyes; even by the poor light, he could see
+the mark left on the inside of the wrist, by the buttons of the glove.
+It was a generously formed arm, but so long that it looked slender,
+and its firm white roundness was flawless from wrist to shoulder. He
+shut his eyes, but he could see it through his eyelids. Sitting beside
+her like this, in the semidarkness, morbidly aware of the perfume of
+her hair and dress, he suddenly forgot that he had been rude, and she
+indifferent. He was conscious only of the wish to drive it home to
+her, how unhappy she was making him.
+
+"Louise," he said so abruptly that she started. "I'm going to
+ask you to do something for me. I haven't made many demands, have
+I?--since you first called me your friend." He paused and fumbled for
+words. "Don't--don't dance any more to-night. Don't dance again."
+
+She stooped forward to look at him. "Not dance again?--I? What do you
+mean?"
+
+"What I say. Let us go home."
+
+"Home? Now? When it's only half over?--You don't know what you are
+saying." But her surprise was already on the wane.
+
+"Oh, yes, I do. I'm not going to let you dance again."
+
+She laughed, in spite of herself, at the new light in which he was
+showing himself. But, the moment after, she ceased to laugh; for, with
+an audacity he had not believed himself capable of, Maurice took the
+arm that was lying next him, and, midway between wrist and elbow, put
+his lips to it, kissing it several times, in different places.
+
+Taken unawares, Louise was helpless. Then she freed herself, ungently.
+"No, no, I won't have it. Oh, how can you be so foolish! My
+gloves--where is my glove? Pick it up, and give it to me--at once!"
+
+He groped on the dusty floor; the veins in his forehead hammered. She
+had moved to a distance, and now stood busy with the gloves; she would
+not look at him.
+
+In the uneasy silence that ensued, Herries opened the door: a moment
+later, they went out together. Maurice remained standing until he saw
+them appear below. Then he dropped back into his seat, and covered his
+face with his hands.
+
+He did not regret what he had done; he did not care in the least,
+whether he had made her angry with him or not. On the contrary, the
+feeling he experienced was akin to relief: disapproval and
+mortification, jealousy and powerlessness--all the varying emotions of
+the evening--had found vent and alleviation in the few hastily snatched
+kisses. He no longer felt injured by her treatment of him: that hardly
+seemed to concern him now. His sensations, at this minute, resolved
+themselves into the words: "She is mine, she is mine!" which went
+round and round in his brain. And then, in a sudden burst of
+clearness, he understood what it meant for him to say this. It meant
+that the farce of friendship, at which he had played, was at an end;
+it meant that he loved her--not as hitherto, with a touch of elegiac
+resignation--but with a violence that made him afraid. If seemed
+incredible to him now that he had spent two months in close
+fellowship with her: it was ludicrous, inhuman. For he now saw, that
+his ultimate desire had been neither to help her nor to restore her to
+life--that was a comedy he had acted for the benefit of the traditions
+in his blood. Brutally, at this moment, he acknowledged that he had
+only wished to hear her voice and to touch her hand: to make for
+himself so indispensable a place among the necessities of her life
+that no one could oust him from it.--Mine--mine! Instinct alone spoke in
+him to-night--that same blunt instinct which had reared its head the
+first time he saw her, but which, until now, he had kept under, like a
+medieval ascetic. No reason came to his aid; he neither looked into
+the future nor did he consider the past: he only swore to himself in a
+kind of stubborn wrath that she was his, and that no earthly power
+should take her from him.
+
+One by one the slow-dragging hours wore away. The dancers' ranks were
+thinned; but those who remained, gyrated as insensately as ever. There
+was an air of greater freedom over the ball-room. The chaperons who,
+earlier in the evening, had sat patiently on the red velvet sofas, had
+vanished with their charges, and, in their train, the more sedate of
+the company: it was past three o'clock, and now, every few minutes, a
+cloaked couple crossed a corner of the hall to the street-door.
+
+When Maurice went downstairs, he could not find Louise, and some time
+elapsed before she and Herries emerged from the supper-room. Although
+the lines beneath her eyes were like rings of hammered iron, she
+danced anew, went on to the very end, with a few other infatuated
+people. Finally, the tired musicians rose stiffly to pack their
+instruments; and, with a sigh of exhaustion, she received on her
+shoulders the cloak Maurice stood holding.
+
+They were among the last to leave the hall; the lights went out behind
+them. Herries walked a part of the way home with them, and talked much
+and idly--ineffable in his self-conceit, thought Maurice. But Louise
+urged him on, saying wild, disconnected things, as if, as long as
+words were spoken, it did not matter what they were. Again and again
+her laugh resounded: it was hoarse, and did not ring true.
+
+"She has had too much champagne," Maurice said to himself, as he
+walked silent at her side.
+
+In the ROSSPLATZ, Herries, who was in a becoming fur cap, and a coat
+with a fur-lined collar, took a circumstantial leave of her. He raised
+both her hands to his lips.
+
+"To the memory of those divine waltzes--our waltzes!" he said
+sentimentally. "And to all the others the future has in store for us!"
+
+She left her hands in his, and smiled at him.
+
+"Till to-morrow then," said Herries. "Or shall you forget your
+promise?"
+
+"It is you who will forget--not I."
+
+After this, Maurice and she walked on alone together. It was that
+dreariest of all the hours between sunset and dawn, when it is
+scarcely night any longer, and yet not nearly day. The crisp frost of
+the previous evening had given place to a bleak rawness; the day that
+was coming would crawl in, lugubriously, unable to get the better of
+the darkness. The houses about them were wrapped in sleep; they two
+were the only people abroad, and their footsteps echoed in the damp
+streets. But, for once, Louise was not affected by the gloom of her
+surroundings. She walked swiftly, and her chief aim seemed to be to
+render any but the most trival words impossible. Now, however, her
+strained gaiety had the aspect of a fever; Maurice believed that, for
+the most part, she did not know what she was saying.
+
+Until they stood in front of the house-door, she kept up the tension.
+But when the young man had fitted the key in the lock and turned it,
+she looked at him, and, for the first time this night, gave him her
+full attention.
+
+"Good night--my friend!"
+
+She was leaning against the woodwork; beneath the lace scarf, her eyes
+were bent on him with a strange expression. Maurice looked down into
+them, and, for a second or two, held them with his own, in one of
+those looks which are not for ordinary use between a man and a woman.
+Louise shivered under it, and gave a nervous laugh; the next moment,
+she made a slight movement towards him, an involuntary movement, which
+was so imperceptible as to be hardly more than an easing of her
+position against the doorway, and yet was unmistakable--as unmistakable
+as was the little upward motion with which she resigned herself at the
+outset of a dance. For an instant, his heart stopped beating; in a
+flash he knew that this was the solution: there was only one ending to
+this night of longing and excitement, and that was to take her in his
+arms, as she stood, to hold her to him in an infinite embrace, till
+his own nerves were stilled, and the madness had gone from her. But
+the returning beat of his blood brought the knowledge that a morrow
+must surely come--a morrow for both of them--a cold, grey day to be
+faced and borne. She was not herself, in the bonds of her
+unnatural excitement; it was for him to be wise.
+
+He took her limply hanging hand, and looked at her gravely and kindly.
+
+"You are very tired."
+
+At his voice, the wild light died out of her eyes; she seemed to
+shrink into herself. "Yes, very tired. And oh, so cold!"
+
+"Can't you get a cup of tea?--something to warm you?"
+
+But she did not hear him; she was already on the stair. He waited till
+her steps had died away, then went headlong down the street. But, when
+he came to think things over, he did not pride himself on the
+self-control he had displayed. On the contrary, he was tormented by
+the wish to know what she would have said or done had he yielded to
+his impulse; and, for the remainder of the night, his brain lost
+itself in a maze of hazardous conjecture. Only when day broke, a
+cheerless February day, was he satisfied that he could not have acted
+differently.
+
+Upstairs, in her room, Louise lay face downwards on her bed, and
+there, her arms thrown wildly out over the pillows, all the froth and
+intoxication of the evening gone from her--there lay, and wished she
+were dead.
+
+
+* * * * *
+
+
+Three days later, towards four o'clock in the afternoon, Maurice
+watched the train that carried her from him steam out of the DRESDENER
+BAHNHOF.
+
+The clearness he had gained as to his own motives, and the ruthless
+probing of himself it induced, both led to the same conclusion: Louise
+must go away. The day after the ball, too, he had found her in a state
+of collapse, which was unparalleled even in the ups and downs of the
+past weeks.
+
+"Anything!--do anything you like with me. I wish I had never been
+born;" and, though no muscle of her face moved, large slow tears ran
+down her sallow cheeks.
+
+Unconsciously twisting and bending Herries's card, which was lying on
+the table, Maurice laid his plan before her. And having won the above
+consent, he did not let the grass grow under his feet. He applied to
+Miss Jensen for practical aid, and that lady was tactful enough to
+give it without curiosity. She knew Dresden well, recommended it as a
+lively place, and wrote forthwith to a PENSION there, engaging rooms
+for a lady who had just recovered from a severe illness. By tacit
+agreement, this was understood to cover any extravagance or
+imprudence, of which Louise might make herself guilty.
+
+Now she had gone, and with her, the central interest of his life. But
+the tired gesture, with which he took off his hat and wiped his
+forehead, as he walked home, was expressive of the relief he felt that
+he was not going to see her again for some time.
+
+He let a fortnight elapse--a fortnight of colourless days, unbroken by
+word or sign from her. Then, one night, he spent several hours writing
+to her--writing a carefully worded letter, in which he put forward the
+best reasons he could devise, for her remaining away altogether.
+
+To this he received no answer.
+
+
+
+
+X.
+
+
+
+From one of the high, wooden benches, at the back of the amphitheatre
+in the ALBERTHALLE, where he had lain at full length, listening to the
+performance of a Berlin pianist, Krafft rose, full to the brim of
+impressions, and eager to state them.
+
+"That man," he began, as he left the hall between Maurice and Avery
+Hill, "is a successful teacher. And therewith his fate as an artist is
+sealed. No teacher can get on to the higher rungs of the ladder, and
+no inspired musician be a satisfactory teacher. If the artist is
+obliged to share his art, his pupils, should they be intelligent, may
+pick up something of his skill, learn the trick of certain things; but
+the moment he begins to set up dogmas, it is the end of him.--As if it
+were possible for one person to prescribe to another, of a totally
+different temperament, how he ought to feel in certain passages, or be
+affected by certain harmonies! If I, for example, choose to play the
+later Beethoven sonatas as I would the Brahms Concerto in B flat, with
+a thoroughly modern irony, what is it that hinders me from doing it,
+and from satisfying myself, and kindred souls, who are honest enough
+to admit their feelings? Tradition, nothing in the world but tradition;
+tradition in the shape of the teacher steps in and says anathema: to
+this we are not accustomed, ERGO, it cannot be good.--And it is just
+the same with those composers who are also pedagogues. They know, none
+better, that there are no hard and fast rules in their art; that it is
+only convention, or the morbid car of some medieval monk, which has
+banished, say, consecutive fifths from what is called g pure writing
+'; that further, you need only to have the regulation number of years
+behind you, to fling squeamishness to the winds. In other words, you
+learn rules to unlearn them with infinite pains. But the pupil, in his
+innocence, demands a rigid basis to go on--it is a human weakness,
+this, the craving for rules--and his teachers pamper him. Instead of
+saying: develop your own ear, rely on yourself, only what you teach
+yourself is worth knowing--instead of this, they build up walls and
+barriers to hedge him in, behind which, for their benefit, he must go
+through the antics of a performing dog. But nemesis overtakes them;
+they fall a victim to their own wiles, just as the liar
+finally believes his own lies. Ultimately they find their chief
+delight in the adroitness with which they themselves overcome
+imaginary obstacles."
+
+His companions were silent. Avery Hill had a nine hours' working-day
+behind her, and was tired; besides, she made a point of never replying
+to Krafft's tirades. Once only, of late, had she said to him in
+Maurice's presence: "You would reason the skin off one's bones, Heinz.
+You are the most self-conscious person alive." Krafft had been much
+annoyed at this remark, and had asked her to call him a Jew and be
+done with it; but afterwards, he admitted to Maurice that she was
+right.
+
+"And it's only the naive natures that count."
+
+Maurice had found his way back to Krafft; for, in the days of
+uncertainty that followed the posting of his letter, he needed human
+companionship. Until the question whether Louise would return or not
+was decided, he could settle to nothing; and Krafft's ramblings took
+him out of himself. Since the ball, his other friends had given him
+the cold shoulder; hence it did not matter whether or no they approved
+of his renewed intimacy with Krafft--he said "they," but it was
+Madeleine who was present to his mind. And Krafft was an easy person
+to take up with again; he never bore a grudge, and met Maurice
+readily, half-way.
+
+It had not taken the latter long to shape his actions or what he
+believed to be the best. But his thoughts were beyond control. He was
+as helpless against sudden spells of depression as against dreams of
+an iridescent brightness. He could no more avoid dwelling on the
+future than reliving the Past. If Louise did not return, these
+memories were all that were left him. If she did, what form were their
+relations to each other going to assume?--and this was the question
+that cost him most anxious thought.
+
+A thing that affected him oddly, at this time, was his growing
+inability to call up her face. It was incredible. This face, which he
+had supposed he knew so well that he could have drawn it blindfold,
+had taken to eluding him; and the more impatient he became, the poorer
+was his success. The disquieting thing, however, was, that though he
+could not materialise her face, what invariably rose before his eyes
+was her long, bare arm, as it had lain on the black stuff of her
+dress. At first, it only came when he was battling to secure the face;
+then it took to appearing at unexpected moments; and eventually, it
+became a kind of nightmare, which haunted him. He would start up from
+dreaming of it, his hair moist with perspiration, for,
+strangely enough, he was always on the point of doing it harm: either
+his teeth were meeting in it, or he had drawn the blade of a knife
+down the middle of the blue-veined whiteness, and the blood spurted
+out along the line, which reddened instantly in the wake of the knife.
+
+April had come, bringing April weather; it was fitfully sunny, and a
+mild and generous dampness spurred on growth: shrubs and bushes were
+so thickly sprinkled with small buds that, at a distance, it seemed as
+though a transparent green veil had been flung over them. In the
+Gewandhaus, according to custom, the Ninth Symphony had brought the
+concert season to a close; once more, the chorus had struggled
+victoriously with the ODE TO JOY. And early one morning, Maurice held
+a note in his hand, in which Louise announced that she had "come
+home," the night before.
+
+She had been away for almost two months, and, to a certain extent, he
+had grown inured to her absence. At the sight of her handwriting, he
+had the sensation of being violently roused from sleep. Now he shrank
+from the moment when he should see her again; for it seemed that not
+only the present, but all his future depended on it.
+
+Late in the evening, he returned from the visit, puzzled and
+depressed.
+
+Seven had boomed from church-clocks far and near, before he reached
+the BRUDERSTRASSE, but, nevertheless, he had been kept waiting in the
+passage for a quarter of an hour: and he was in such an apprehensive
+frame of mind that he took the delay as a bad omen.
+
+When he crossed the threshold, Louise came towards him with one of
+those swift movements which meant that she was in good spirits, and
+confident of herself. She held out her hands, and smiled at him with
+all her dark, mobile face, saying words that were as impulsive as her
+gesture. Maurice was always vaguely chilled by her outbursts of
+light-heartedness: they seemed to him strained and unreal, so
+accustomed had he grown to the darker, less adaptable side of her
+nature.
+
+"You have come back?" he said, with her hand in his.
+
+"Yes, I'm here--for the present, at least."
+
+The last words caught in his ear, and buzzed there, making his
+foreboding a certainty. On the spot, his courage failed him; and
+though Louise continued to ring all the changes her voice was
+capable of, he did not recover his spirits. It was not merely the
+sense of strangeness, which inevitably attacked him after he had not
+seen her for some time; on this occasion, it was more. Partly, it
+might be due to the fact that she was dressed in a different way; her
+hair was done high on her head, and she wore a light grey dress of
+modish cut and design. Her face, too, had grown fuller; the hollows in
+her cheeks had vanished; and her skin had that peculiar clear pallor
+that was characteristic of it in health.
+
+He was stupidly silent; he could not join in her careless vivacity.
+Besides, throughout the visit, nothing was said that it was worth his
+coming to hear.
+
+But when she wished him good-bye, she said, with a strange smile:
+"Altogether, I am very grateful to you, Maurice, for having made me go
+away."
+
+He himself no longer felt any satisfaction at what he had done. As
+soon as he left her, he tried to comprehend what had happened: the
+change in her was too marked for him to be able to console himself
+that he had imagined it. Not only had she seemingly recovered, as if
+by magic, from the lassitude of the winter--he could even have forgiven
+her the alteration in her style of dress, although this, too, helped
+to alienate her from him. But what he ended by recognising, with a
+jealous throb, was that she had mentally recovered as well; she was
+once more the self-contained girl he had first known, with a gift for
+keeping an outsider beyond the circle of her thoughts and feelings. An
+outsider! The weeks of intimate companionship were forgotten, seemed
+never to have been. She had no further need of him, that was the clue
+to the mystery, and the end of the matter.
+
+And so it continued, the next day, and the next again; Louise
+deliberately avoided touching on anything that lay below the surface.
+She vouchsafed no explanation of the words that had disquieted him,
+nor was the letter Maurice had written her once mentioned between
+them.
+
+But, though she seemed resolved not to confide in him, she could not
+dispense with the small, practical services, he was able to render
+her. They were even more necessary to her than before; for, if one
+thing was clear, it was that she no longer intended to cloister
+herself up inside her four walls: the day after her return, she had
+been out till late in the afternoon, and had come home with her hands
+full of parcels. She took it now as a matter of course that Maurice
+should accompany her; and did not, or would not, notice his
+abstraction.
+
+After the lapse of a very short time, however, the young man began to
+feel that there was something feverish in the continual high level of
+her mood. She broke down, once or twice, in trying to sustain it, and
+was more of her eloquently silent self again: one evening, he came
+upon her, in the dusk, when she was sitting with her chin on her hand,
+looking out before her with the old questioning gaze.
+
+Occasionally he thought that she was waiting for something: in the
+middle of a sentence, she would break off, and grow absent-minded; and
+more than once, the unexpected advent of the postman threw her into a
+state of excitement, which she could not conceal. She was waiting for
+a letter. But Maurice was proud, and asked no questions; he took pains
+to use the cool, friendly tone, she herself adopted.
+
+Not a week had dragged out, however, since her return, before he was
+suffering in a new way, in the oldest, cruellest way of all.
+
+The PENSION at which she had stayed in Dresden, had been frequented by
+leisured foreigners: over twenty people, of various nationalities, had
+sat down daily at the dinner-table. Among so large a number, it would
+have been easy for Louise to hold herself aloof. But, as far as
+Maurice could gather, she had felt no inclination to do this. From the
+first, she seemed to have been the nucleus of an admiring circle,
+chief among the members of which was a family of Americans--a brother
+and two sisters, rich Southerners, possessed of a vague leaning
+towards art and music. The names of these people recurred persistently
+in her talk; and, as the days went by, Maurice found himself listening
+for one name in particular, with an irritation he could not master.
+Raymond van Houst--a ridiculous name!--fit only for a backstairs
+romance. But as often as she spoke of Dresden, it was on her lips.
+Whether in the Galleries, or at the Opera, on driving excursions, or
+on foot, this man had been at her side; and soon the mere mention of
+him was enough to set Maurice's teeth on edge.
+
+One afternoon, he found her standing before an extravagant mass of
+flowers, which were heaped up on the table; there were white and
+purple violets, a great bunch of lilies of the valley, and roses of
+different colours. They had been sent to her from Dresden, she said;
+but, beyond this, she offered no explanation. All the vases in the
+room were collected before her; but she had not begun to fill
+them: she stood with her hands in the flowers, tumbling them about,
+enjoying the contact of their moist freshness.
+
+To Maurice's remark that she seemed to take a pleasure in destroying
+them, she returned a casual: "What does it matter?" and taking up as
+many violets as she could hold, looked defiantly at him over their
+purple leaves. Through all she said and did ran a strong undercurrent
+of excitement.
+
+But before Maurice left, her manner changed. She came over to him, and
+said, without looking up: "Maurice I want to tell you something."
+
+"Yes; what is it?" He spoke with the involuntary coolness this mood of
+hers called out in him; and she was quick to feel it. She returned to
+the table.
+
+"You ask so prosaically: you are altogether prosaic to-day. And it is
+not a thing I can tell you off-hand. You would need to sit down again.
+It's a long story; and you were going; and it's late. We will leave it
+till to-morrow: that will be time enough. And if it is fine, we can go
+out somewhere, and I'll tell you as we go."
+
+It was a brilliant May afternoon: great white clouds were piled one on
+the top of another, like bales of wool; and their fantastic bulging
+roundnesses made the intervening patches of blue seem doubly distant.
+The wind was hardly more than a breath, which curled the tips of thin
+branches, and fluttered the loose ends of veils and laces. In the
+ROSENTAL, where the meadow-slopes were emerald-green, and each branch
+bore its complement of delicately curled leaves, the paths were so
+crowded that there could be no question of a connected conversation.
+But again, Louise was not in a hurry to begin.
+
+She continued meditative, even when they had reached the KAISERPARK,
+and were sitting with their cups before them, in the long, wooden,
+shed-like building, open at one side. She had taken off her hat--a
+somewhat showy white hat, trimmed with large white feathers--and laid
+it on the table; one dark wing of hair fell lower than the other, and
+shaded her forehead.
+
+Maurice, who was on tenterhooks, subdued his impatience as long as he
+could. Finally, he emptied his cup at a draught, and pushed it away.
+
+"You wanted to speak to me, you said."--His manner was curt, from sheer
+nervousness.
+
+His voice startled her. "Yes, I have something to tell you,"
+she said, with a hesitation he did not know in her. "But I must go
+back a little.--If you remember, Maurice, you wrote to me while I was
+away, didn't you?" she said, and looked not at him, but at her hands
+clasped before her. "You gave me a number of excellent reasons why it
+would be better for me not to come back here. I didn't answer your
+letter at the time because . . . What should you say, Maurice, if I
+told you now, that I intended to take your advice?"
+
+"You are going away?" The words jerked out gratingly, of themselves.
+
+"Perhaps.--That is what I want to speak to you about. I have a chance
+of doing so."
+
+"Chance? How chance?" he asked sharply.
+
+"That's what I am going to tell you, if you will give me time."
+
+Drawing a letter from her pocket, she smoothed the creases out of the
+envelope, and handed it to him.
+
+While he read it, she looked away, looked over the enclosure. Some
+people were crossing it, and she followed them with her eyes, though
+she had often seen their counterparts before. A man in a heavy
+ulster--notwithstanding the mildness of the day--stalked on ahead,
+unconcerned about the fate of his family, which dragged, a woman and
+two children, in the rear: like savages, thought Louise, where the
+male goes first, to scent danger. But the crackling of paper recalled
+her attention; Maurice was folding the sheet, and replacing it in the
+envelope, with a ludicrous precision. His face had taken on a pinched
+expression, and he handed the letter back to her without a word.
+
+She looked at him, expecting him to say something; but he was
+obdurate. "This was what I was waiting all these days to tell you,"
+she said.
+
+"You knew it was coming then?" He scarcely recognised his own voice;
+he spoke as he supposed a judge might speak to a proven criminal.
+
+Louise shrugged her shoulders. "No. Yes.--That is, as far as it's
+possible to know such a thing."
+
+Through the crude glass window, the sun cast a medley of lines and
+lights on her hands, and on the checkered table-cloth. There were two
+rough benches, and a square table; the coffeecups stood on a metal
+tray; the lid of the pot was odd, did not match the set: all these
+inanimate things, which, a moment ago, Maurice had seen without seeing
+them, now stood out before his eyes, as if each of them had
+acquired an independent life, and no longer fitted into its
+background.
+
+"Let us go home," he said, and rose.
+
+"Go home? But we have only just come!" cried Louise, with what seemed
+to him pretended surprise. "Why do you want to go home? It is so quiet
+here: I can talk to you. For I need your advice, Maurice. You must
+help me once again."
+
+"I help you?--in this? No, thank you. All I can do, it seems, is to
+wish you joy." He remained standing, with his hand on the back of the
+bench.
+
+But at the cold amazement of her eyes, he took his seat again. "It is
+a matter for yourself--only you can decide. It's none of my business."
+He moved the empty cups about on the cloth.
+
+"But why are you angry?"
+
+"Haven't I good reason to be? To see you--you !--accepting an
+impertinence of this kind so quietly. For it IS an impertinence,
+Louise, that a man you hardly know should write to you in this
+cocksure way and ask you to marry him. Impertinent and absurd!"
+
+"You have a way of finding most things I want to do absurd," she
+answered. "In this case, though, you're. mistaken. The tone of the
+letter is all it should be. And, besides, I know Mr. Van Houst very
+well."
+
+Maurice looked at her with a sardonic smile.
+
+"Seven weeks is a long time," she added.
+
+"Seven weeks!--and for a lifetime!"
+
+"Oh, one can get to know a man inside out, in seven weeks," she said,
+with wilful flippancy. "Especially if, from the first, he shows so
+plainly . . . Maurice, don't be angry. You have always been kind to
+me; you're not going to fail me now that I really need help? I have no
+one else, as you very well know." She smiled at him, and held out her
+hand. He could not refuse to take it; but he let it drop again
+immediately.
+
+"Let me tell you all about it, and how it happened, and then you will
+understand," Louise went on, in a persuasive voice--he had once
+believed that the sound of this voice would reconcile him to any fate.
+"You think the time was short, but we were together every day, and
+sometimes all day long. I knew from the first that he cared for me; he
+made no secret of it. If anything, it is a proof of tactfulness on his
+part that he should have written rather than have spoken to me
+himself. I like him for doing it, for giving me time. And
+then, listen, Maurice, what I should gain by marrying him. He is rich,
+really rich, and good-looking--in an American way--and thirtytwo years
+old. His sisters would welcome me--one of them told me as much, and
+told me, too, that her brother had never cared for anyone before. He
+would make an ideal husband," she added with a sudden recklessness, at
+the sight of Maurice's unmoved face. "Americanly chivalrous to the
+fingertips, and with just enough of the primitive animal in him to
+ward off monotony."
+
+Maurice raised his hand, as if in self-defence. "So you, too, then,
+like any other woman, would marry just for the sake of marrying?" he
+asked, with bitter disbelief.
+
+"Yes.--And just especially and particularly I."
+
+"For Heaven's sake, let us get out of here!"
+
+Without listening to her protest, he went to find the waiter. Louise
+followed him out of the enclosure, carrying hat and gloves in her
+hand.
+
+They struck into narrow by-paths going back, to avoid the people. But
+it was impossible to escape all, and those they met, eyed them with
+curiosity. The clear English voices rang out unconcerned; the pale
+girl with the Italian eyes was visibly striving to appease her
+companion, who marched ahead, angry and impassive.
+
+For a few hundred yards neither of them spoke. Then Louise began anew.
+
+"And that is not all. You judge harshly and unfairly because you don't
+know the facts. I am almost quite alone in the world. I have no
+relatives that I care for, except one brother. I lived with him, on
+his station in Queensland, until I came here. But now he's married,
+and there would be no room for me in the house--figuratively speaking.
+If I go back now, I must share his home with his wife, whom I knew and
+disliked. While here is some one who is fond of me, and is rich, and
+who offers me not only a home of my own, but, what is far more to me,
+an entirely new life in a new world."
+
+"Excellent reasons! But in reckoning them up, you have forgotten what
+seems to me the most important one of all; whether or no you care for
+him, for this . . . "this in his trouble, he could not find a suitable
+epithet.
+
+But Louise refused to be touched. "I like him," she answered, and
+looked across the slope of meadow they were passing. "I liked him,
+yes, as any woman would like a man who treated her as he did
+me. He was very good tome. And not in the least repugnant.--But care?"
+she interrupted herself. "If by care, you mean . . . Then no, a
+hundred thousand times, no! I shall never care for anyone in that way
+again, and you know it. I had enough of that to last me all my life."
+
+"Very well, then, and I say, if you married a man you care for as
+little as that, I should never believe in a woman again.--Not, of
+course, that it matters to you what I believe in and what I don't? But
+to hear you--you, Louise!--counting up the profits to be gained from it,
+like . . . like--oh, I don't know what! I couldn't have believed it of
+you."
+
+"You are a very uncomfortable person, Maurice."
+
+"I mean to be. And more than uncomfortable. Listen to me! You talk of
+it lightly and coolly; but if you married this man, without caring for
+him more than you say you do, just for the sake of a home, or his
+money, or his good manners, or the primitive animal, or whatever it is
+that attracts you in him:"--he grew bitter again in spite of
+himself--"if you did this, you would be stifling all that is good and
+generous in your nature. For you may say what you like; the man is
+little more than a stranger to you. What can you know of his real
+character? And what can he know of you?"
+
+"He knows as much of me as I ever intend him to know."
+
+"Indeed! Then you wouldn't tell him, for instance, that only a few
+months ago, you were eating your heart out for some one else?"
+
+Louise winced as though the words had struck her in the face. Before
+she answered, she stood still, in the middle of the path, and pinned
+on, with deliberate movements, the big white hat, beneath the drooping
+brim and nodding feathers of which, her eyes were as black as coals.
+
+"No, I should not," she said. "Why should I? Do you think it would
+make him care more for me to know that I had nearly died of love for
+another man?"
+
+"Certainly not. And it might also make him less ready to marry you."
+
+"That's exactly what I think."
+
+One was as bitter as the other; but Maurice was the more violent of
+the two.
+
+"And so you would begin the new life you talk of, with lies and
+deceit?--A most excellent beginning!"
+
+"If you like to call it that. I only know, that no one with
+any sense thinks of dragging up certain things when once they are dead
+and buried. Or are you, perhaps, simple enough to believe any man
+living would get over what I have to tell him, and care for me
+afterwards in the same way ?"
+
+He turned, with tell-tale words on his tongue. But the expression of
+her face intimidated him. He had only to look at her to know that, if
+he spoke of himself at this moment, she would laugh him to scorn.
+
+But the beloved face acted on him in its own way; his sense of injury
+weakened. "Louise," he said in an altered tone; "whatever you say to
+the contrary, in a matter like this, I can't advise you. For I don't
+understand--and never should.--But of one thing I'm as sure as I am
+that the sun will rise to-morrow, and that is, that you won't do it.
+Do you honestly think you could go on living, day after day, with a
+man you don't sincerely care for?--of whom the most you can say is that
+he's not repugnant to you? You little know what it would mean!--And you
+may reason as you will; I answer for you; and I say no, and again no.
+It isn't in you to do it. You are not mean and petty enough. You can't
+hide your feelings, try as you will.--No, you couldn't deceive some
+one, by pretending to care for him, for months on end. You would be
+miserably unhappy; and then--then I know what would happen. You would
+be candid--candid about everything--when it was too late."
+
+There was no mistaking the sincerity of his words. But Louise was
+boundlessly irritated, and made no further effort to check her
+resentment.
+
+"You have an utterly false and ridiculous idea of me, and of
+everything belonging to me."
+
+"I haven't spent all this time with you for nothing. I know you better
+than you know yourself. I believe in you, Louise. And I know I am
+right. And some day you'll know it, too."
+
+These words only incensed her the more.
+
+"What you know--or think you know--is nothing to me. If you had listened
+to me patiently, as I asked you to, instead of losing your temper, and
+taking what I said as a personal affront, then, yes, then I should
+have told you something else besides. How, when I came back, a
+fortnight ago, I was quite resolved to marry this man, if he asked me
+marry him and cut myself off for ever from my old life and its hateful
+memories.--And why not? I'm still young. I still have a right to
+pleasure--and change--and excitement.--And in all these days, I
+didn't once hesitate--not till the letter came yesterday--and then not
+till night. It wasn't like me; for when once I have made up my mind, I
+never go back. So I determined to ask you--ask you to help me to
+decide. For you had always been kind to me.--But this is what I get
+for doing it." Her anger flared up anew. "You have treated me
+abominably, to-day, Maurice; and I shan't forget it. All your
+ridiculous notions about right and wrong don't matter a straw. What
+does matter is, that when I ask for help, you should behave as if--as
+if I were going to commit a crime. Your opinion is nothing to me. If I
+decide to marry the man, I shall do it, no matter what you say."
+
+"I'm sure you will."
+
+"And if I don't, let me tell you this: it won't be because of anything
+you've said to-day. Not from any high-flown notions of honesty, or
+generosity, as you would like to make yourself believe; but merely
+because I haven't the energy in me. I couldn't keep it up. I want to
+be quiet, to have an easy life. The fact that some one else had to
+suffer, too, wouldn't matter to me, in the least. It's myself I think
+of, first and foremost, and as long as I live it will always be
+myself."
+
+Her voice belied her words; he expected each moment that she would
+burst out crying. However, she continued to walk on, with her head
+erect; and she did not take back one of the unkind things she had
+said.
+
+They parted without being reconciled. Maurice stood and watched her
+mount the staircase, in the vain hope that she would turn, before
+reaching the top.
+
+He did not see how the fine May afternoon declined, and passed into
+evening; how the high stacks of cloud were broken up at sunset, and
+shredded into small flakes and strips of cloud, which, saturated with
+gold, vanished in their turn: how the shadows in the corners turned
+from blue to black; nor did he note the mists that rose like steam
+from the ground, intensifying the acrid smell of garlic, with which
+the woods abounded. Screened by the thicket, he sat on his accustomed
+scat, and gave himself up to being miserable.
+
+For some time he was conscious only of how deeply he had been
+wounded--just as one suffers from the bruise after the blow. At the
+moment, he had been stunned into a kind of quiescence; now his nerves
+throbbed and tingled. But, little by little, a vivid recollection of
+what had actually occurred returned to sting him: and certain details
+stood out fixed and unforgettable. Yet, in reliving the hours just
+past, he felt no regret at the fact that they had quarrelled. What
+first smote him was an unspeakable amazement at Louise. The knowledge
+that, for weeks on end, she had been contemplating marriage, was
+beyond his belief. Hardly recovered from the throes of a suffering
+believed incurable, and while he was still going about her with gloved
+hands, as it were, she was ready to throw herself into the arms of the
+first likely man she met. He could not help himself: in this
+connection, every little trait in her that was uncongenial to him,
+started up with appalling distinctness. Hitherto, he had put it down
+to his own sensitiveness; he was over-nice. But for the most part, he
+had forgiven her on account of all she had come through; for he
+believed that this grief had swept destructively through her nature,
+leaving a jagged wound, which only time could heal. Now, as if to
+prove to him what a fool he was, she showed him that he had been
+mistaken in this also; she could recover her equilibrium, while he
+still hedged her round with solicitude--recover herself, and transfer
+her affection to another person. Good God! Was it so easy, a matter of
+so little moment, to grow fond of one who was almost a stranger to
+her?--for, in spite of what she said to the contrary, he was persuaded
+that she had a stronger feeling for this man than she had been willing
+to admit: this riper man, with his experienced way of treating women.
+Was, then, his own idea of her wholly false? Was there, after all,
+something in her nature that he could not, would not, understand? He
+denied it fiercely, almost before he had formulated the question: no
+matter what her actions were, or what words she said, deep down in her
+was an intense will for good, a spring of noble impulse. It was only
+that she had never had a proper chance. But he denied it to a vision
+of her face: the haunting eyes which, at first sight, had destroyed
+his peace of mind; the dead black hair against the ivory-coloured
+skin. It was in these things that the truth lay, not in the blind
+promptings of her inclination.
+
+For the first time, the idea of marriage took definite shape in his
+mind. For all he knew, it might have been lying dormant there, all
+along; but he would doubtless have remained unconscious of it, for
+weeks to come, had it not been for the events of the afternoon. Now,
+however, Louise had made it plain that his feelings for her were of an
+exaggerated delicacy; plain that she herself had no such scruples. He
+need hesitate no longer. But marry! . . . marriage! . . . he marry
+Louise!--at the thought of it, he laughed. That he, Maurice
+Guest, should, for an instant, put himself on a par with her American
+suitor! The latter, rich, leisured, able to satisfy her caprices,
+surround her with luxury: himself, younger than she by several years,
+without prospects, with nothing to offer her but a limitless devotion.
+He tried to imagine himself saying: "Louise, will you marry me?" and
+the words stuck in his throat; for he saw the amused astonishment of
+her eyes. And not merely at the presumption he would be guilty of;
+what was as clear to him as day was that she did not really care for
+him; not as he cared for her; not with the faintest hint of a warmer
+feeling. If he had never grasped this before, he did so now, to the
+full. Sitting there, he affirmed to himself that she did not even like
+him. She was grateful to him, of course, for his help and friendship;
+but that was all. Beyond this, he would not have been surprised to
+learn from her own lips that she actually disliked him: for there was
+something irreconcilable about their two natures. And never, for a
+moment, had she considered him in the light of an eligible lover--oh,
+how that stung! Here was she, with an attraction for him which nothing
+could weaken; and in him was not the smallest lineament, of body or of
+mind, to wake a response in her. He was powerless to increase her
+happiness by a hair's breadth. Her nerves would never answer to the
+inflection of his voice, or the touch of his hand. How could such
+things be? What anomaly was here?
+
+To-day, her face rose before him unsought--the sweet, dark face with
+the expression of slight melancholy that it wore in repose, as he
+loved it best. It was with him when, stiff and tired, he emerged from
+his seclusion, and walked home through the trails of mist that hung,
+breast-high, on the meadow-land. It was with him under the
+street-lamps, and, to its accompanying presence, the strong conviction
+grew in him that evasion on his part was no longer possible. Sooner or
+later, come what might, the words he had faltered over, even to
+himself, would have to be spoken.
+
+
+
+
+XI.
+
+
+
+One day, some few weeks later, Madeleine sat at her writingtable,
+biting the end of her pen. A sheet of note-paper lay before her; but
+she had not yet written a word. She frowned to herself, as she sat.
+
+Hard at work that morning, she had heard a ring at the door-bell, and,
+a minute after, her landlady ushered in a visitor, in the shape of
+Miss Martin. Madeleine rose from the piano with ill-concealed
+annoyance, and having seated Miss Martin on the sofa, waited
+impatiently for the gist of her visit; for she was sure that the
+lively American would not come to see her without an object. And she
+was right: she knew to a nicety when the important moment arrived.
+Most of the visit was preamble; Miss Martin talked at length of her
+own affairs, assuming, with disarming candour, that they interested
+other people as much as herself. She went into particulars about her
+increasing dissatisfaction with Schwarz, and retailed the glowing
+accounts she heard on all sides of a teacher called Schrievers. He was
+not on the staff of the Conservatorium; but he had been a favourite of
+Liszt's, and was attracting many pupils. From this, Miss Martin passed
+to more general topics, such as the blow Dove had recently received
+over the head of his attachment to pretty Susie Fay. "Why, Sue, she
+feels perfectly DREADFUL about it. She can't understand Mr. Dove
+thinking they were anything but real good friends. Most every one here
+knew right away that Sue had her own boy down home in Illinois. Yes,
+indeed."
+
+Madeleine displayed her want of interest in Dove's concerns so
+plainly, that Miss Martin could not do otherwise than cease discussing
+them. She rose to end her call. As, however, she stood for the
+momentary exchange of courtesies that preceded the hand-shake, she
+said, in an off-hand way: "Miss Wade, I presume I needn't inquire if
+you're acquainted with the latest about Louise Dufrayer? I say, I
+guess I needn't inquire, seeing you're so well acquainted with Mr.
+Guest. I presume, though, you don't see so much of him now. No,
+indeed. I hear he's thrown over all his friends. I feel real
+disappointed about him. I thought he was a most agreeable young man.
+But, as momma says, you never can tell. An' I reckon Louise is
+most to blame. Seems like she simply CAN'T exist without a beau. But I
+wonder she don't feel ashamed to show herself, the way she's talked
+of. Why, the stories I hear about her! . . . an' they're always
+together. She's gotten her a heap of new things, too--a millionaire
+asked her to marry him, when she was in Dresden, but he wasn't good
+enough for her, no ma'am, an' all on account of Mr. Guest.--Yes,
+indeed. But I must say I feel kind of sorry for him, anyway. He was a
+real pleasant young man."
+
+"Maurice Guest is quite able to look after. himself," said Madeleine
+drily.
+
+"Is that so? Well, I presume you ought to know, you were once so well
+acquainted with him--if I may say, Miss Wade, we all thought it was you
+was his fancy. Yes, indeed."
+
+"Oh, I always knew he liked Louise."
+
+But this was the chief grudge she, too, bore him: that he had been so
+little open with her. His seeming frankness had been merely a feint;
+he had gone his own way, and had never really let her know what he was
+thinking and planning. She now recalled the fact that Louise had only
+once been mentioned between them, since the time of her illness, over
+six months ago; and she, Madeleine, had foolishly believed his
+reticence to be the result of a growing indifference.
+
+Since the night of the ball, they had shunned each other, by tacit
+consent. But, though she could avoid him in person, Madeleine could
+not close her cars to the gossipy tales that circulated. In the last
+few weeks, too, the rumours had become more clamatory: these two
+misguided creatures had obviously no regard for public opinion; and
+several times, Madeleine had been obliged to go out of her own way, to
+escape meeting them face to face. On these occasions, she told herself
+that she had done with Maurice Guest; and this decision was the more
+easy as, since the beginning of the year, she had moved almost
+entirely in German circles. But now the distasteful tattle was thrust
+under her very nose. It seemed to put things in a different light to
+hear Maurice pitied and discussed in this very room. In listening to
+her visitor, she had felt once more how strong her right of possession
+was in him; she was his oldest friend in Leipzig. Now she was ready to
+blame herself for having let her umbrage stand in the way of them
+continuing friends: had he been dropping in as he had formerly done,
+she might have prevented things from going so far, and
+certainly have been of use in hindering them from growing worse; for,
+with Louise, one was never sure. And so she determined to write to
+him, without delay. In this, though, she was piqued as well by a
+violent curiosity. Louise said to have given up a good match for his
+sake! xxx she could not believe it. It was incredible that she could care
+for him as he cared for her. Madeleine knew them both too well;
+Maurice was not the type of man by whom Louise was attracted.
+
+She wrote in a guarded way.
+
+IT SEEMS ABSURD THAT OLD FRIENDS SHOULD BEHAVE AS WE ARE DOING. IF
+ANYTHING THAT HAPPENED WAS MY FAULT, FORGIVE IT, AND SHOW ME YOU DON'T
+BEAR ME A GRUDGE, BY COMING TO SEE ME TO-MORROW AFTERNOON.
+
+They had not met for close on four months, and, for the first few
+minutes after his arrival, Madeleine was confused by the change that
+had taken place in Maurice. It was not only that he was paler and
+thinner than of old: his boyish manner had deserted him; and, when he
+forgot himself, his eyes had a strange, brooding expression.
+
+"Other-worldly . . . almost," thought Madeleine; and, in order to
+surmount an awkwardness she had been resolved not to feel, she talked
+glibly. Maurice said he could not stay long, and wished to keep his
+hat in his hand; but before he knew it, he was sitting in his
+accustomed place on the sofa.
+
+As they stirred their tea, she told him how annoyed she had felt at
+having recently had a performance postponed in favour of Avery Hill:
+and how the latter was said to be going crazy, with belief in her own
+genius. Maurice seemed to be in the dark about what was happening, and
+made no attempt to hide his ignorance. She could see, too, that he was
+not interested in these things; he played with a tassel of the sofa,
+and did not notice when she stopped speaking.
+
+It is his turn now, she said to herself, and left the silence that
+followed unbroken. Before it had lasted long, however, he looked up
+from his employment of twisting the tassel as far round as it would
+go, and then letting it fly back. "I say, Madeleine, now I'm here,
+there's something I should like to ask you. I hope, though, you won't
+think it impertinence on my part." He cleared his throat. "Once or
+twice lately I've heard a report about you--several times, indeed. I
+didn't pay any attention to it--not till a few days back, that
+is--when I saw it--or thought I saw it--confirmed with my own eyes. I was
+at Bonorand's on Monday evening; I was behind you."
+
+In an instant Madeleine had grasped what he was driving at. "Well, and
+what of that, pray?" she asked. "Do you think I should have been
+there, if I had been ashamed of it?"
+
+"I saw whom you were with," he went on, and treated the tassel so
+roughly that it came away in his hand. "I say, Madeleine, it can't be
+true, what they say--that you are thinking of . . . of marrying that
+old German?"
+
+Madeleine coloured, but continued to meet his eyes. "And why not?" she
+asked again.--"Don't destroy my furniture, please."
+
+"Why not?" he echoed, and laid the tassel on the table. "Well, if you
+can ask that, I should say you don't know the facts of the case. If I
+had a sister, Madeleine, I shouldn't care to see her going about with
+that man. He's an old ??  ??--don't you know he has had two wives, and is
+divorced from both?"
+
+"Fiddle-dee-dee! You and your sister! Do you think a man is going to
+come to nearly fifty without knowing something of life? That he hasn't
+been happy in his matrimonial relations is his misfortune, not his
+fault."
+
+"Then it's true?"
+
+"Why not?" she asked for the third time.
+
+"Then, of course, I've nothing more to say. I've no right to interfere
+in your private affairs. I hoped I should still be in time--that's
+all."
+
+"No, you can't go yet, sit still," she said peremptorily. "I too, have
+something to say.--But will you first tell me, please, what it can
+possibly matter to you, whether you are in time, as you call it, or
+not?"
+
+"Why, of course, it matters.--We haven't seen much of each other
+lately; but you were my first friend here, and I don't forget it.
+Particularly in a case like this, where everything is against the idea
+of you marrying this man: your age--your character--all common sense."
+
+"Those are only words, Maurice. With regard to my age, I am over
+twenty-seven, as you know. I need no boy of eighteen for a husband.
+Then I am plain: I shall never attract anyone by my personal
+appearance, nor will a man ever be led to do foolish things for my
+sake. I have worked hard all my life, and have never known what it is
+to let to-morrow take care of itself.--Now here, at last, comes
+a man of an age not wholly unsuitable to mine, whatever you may say.
+What though he has enjoyed life? He offers me, not only a certain
+social standing, but material comfort for the rest of my days.
+Whereas, otherwise, I may slave on to the end, and die eventually in a
+governesses' home."
+
+"YOU would never do that. You are not one of that kind. But do you
+think, for a moment, you'd be happy in such a position of dependence?"
+
+"That's my own affair. There would certainly be nothing extraordinary
+in it, if I were."
+
+"As you put it, perhaps not. But------If it were even some one of your
+own race! But these foreigners think so queerly. And then, too,
+Madeleine, you'll laugh, I daresay, but I've always thought of you as
+different from other women--strong and independent, and quite sure of
+yourself. The kind of girl that makes others seem little and stupid.
+No one here was good enough for you."
+
+Madeleine's amazement was so great that she did not reply immediately.
+Then she laughed. "You have far too high an opinion of me. Do you
+really think I like standing alone? That I do it by preference?--You
+were never more mistaken, if you do. It has always been a case of
+necessity with me, no one ever having asked me to try the other way. I
+suppose like you, they thought I enjoyed it. However, set your mind at
+rest. Your kind intervention has not come too late. There is still
+nothing definite."
+
+"I'm glad to hear it."
+
+"I don't say there mayn't be," she added. "Herr Lohse and I are
+excellent friends, and it won't occur to me not to accept the
+theatre-tickets and other amusements he is able to give me.--But it is
+also possible that for the sake of 'your ideals, I may die a solitary
+old maid."
+
+Here she was overcome by the comical side of the matter, and burst out
+laughing.
+
+"What a ridiculous boy you are! If you only knew how you have turned
+the tables on me. I sent for you, this afternoon, to give you a sound
+talking-to, and instead of that, here you sit and lecture me."
+
+"Well, if I have achieved something----"
+
+"It's too absurd," she repeated more tartly. "For you to come here in
+this way to care for my character, when you yourself are the talk of
+the place."
+
+His face changed, as she had meant it to do. He choked back a
+sharp rejoinder. "I'd be obliged, if you'd leave my affairs out of the
+question."
+
+"I daresay you would. But that's just what I don't intend to do. For
+if there are rumours going the round about me, what on earth is one to
+say of you? I needn't go into details. You know quite well what I
+mean. Let me tell you that your name is in everybody's mouth, and that
+you are being made to appear not only contemptible, but ridiculous."
+
+"The place is a hot-bed of scandal. I've told you that before," he
+cried, angry enough now. "These dirty-minded MUSIKER think it outside
+the bounds of possibility for two people to be friends." But his tone
+was unsure, and he was conscious of it.
+
+"Yes--when one of the two is Louise."
+
+"Kindly leave Miss Dufrayer out of the question."
+
+"Oh, Maurice, don't Miss Dufrayer me!--I knew Louise before you even
+knew that she existed.--But answer me one question, and I'm done. Are
+you engaged to Louise?"
+
+"Most certainly not."
+
+"Well, then, you ought to be.--For though you don't care what people
+say about yourself, your conscience will surely prick you when you
+hear that you're destroying the last shred of reputation Louise had
+left.--I should be sorry to repeat to you what is being said of her."
+
+But after he had gone, she reproached herself for having put such a
+question to him. At the pass things had reached, it was surely best
+for him to go through with his infatuation, and get over it. Whereas
+she, in a spasm of conventionality, had pointed him out the sure road
+to perdition; for the worst thing that could happen would be for him
+to bind himself to Louise, in any fashion. As if her reputation
+mattered! The more rapidly she got rid of what remained to her, the
+better it would be for every one, and particularly for Maurice Guest.
+
+Had Maurice been in doubt as to Madeleine's meaning, it would have
+been removed within a few minutes of his leaving the house. As he
+turned a corner of the Gewandhaus, he came face to face with Krafft.
+Though they had not met for weeks, Heinrich passed with no greeting
+but a disagreeable smile. Maurice was not half-way across the road,
+however, when Krafft came running back, and, taking the lappel of his
+friend's coat, allowed his wit to play round the talent Maurice
+displayed for wearing dead men's shoes.
+
+CARMEN was given that night in the theatre; Maurice had fetched
+tickets from the box-office in the morning. An ardent liking for the
+theatre had sprung up in Louise of late; and they were there sometimes
+two or three evenings in succession. Besides this, CARMEN was her
+favourite opera, which she never missed. They heard it from the
+second-top gallery. Leaning back in his corner, Maurice could see
+little of the stage; but the bossy waves of his companion's head were
+sharply outlined for him against the opposite tier.
+
+Louise was engrossed in what was happening on the stage; her eyes were
+wide open, immovable. He had never known anyone surrender himself so
+utterly to the mimic life of the theatre. Under the influence of music
+or acting that gripped her, Louise lost all remembrance of her
+surroundings: she lived blindly into this unreal world, without the
+least attempt at criticism. Afterwards, she returned to herself tired
+and dispirited, and with a marked distaste for the dullness of real
+life. Here, since the first lively clash of the orchestra, since the
+curtain rose on gay Sevilla, she had been as far away from him as if
+she were on another planet. Not, he was obliged to confess to himself,
+that it made very much difference. Though he was now her constant
+companion, though his love for her was stronger than it had ever been,
+he knew less of her to-day than he had known six months ago, when one
+all-pervading emotion had made her life an open book.
+
+Since that unhappy afternoon on which he learnt the contents of the
+letter from Dresden, they had spent a part of nearly every day in each
+other's company. Louise had borne him no malice for what he had said
+to her; indeed, with the generous forgetfulness of offence, which was
+one of the most astonishing traits in her character, she met him, the
+day after, as though nothing had passed between them. By common
+consent, they never referred to the matter again; Maurice did not know
+to this day, whether or how she had answered the letter. For, although
+she had forgiven him, she was not quite the same with him as before; a
+faint change had come over their relation to each other. It was
+something so elusive that he could not have defined it; yet
+nevertheless it existed, and he was often acutely conscious of it. It
+was not that she kept her thoughts to herself; but she did not say ALL
+she thought--that was it. And this shade of reserve, in her who had
+been so frank, ate into him sorely. He accepted it, though, as a
+chastisement, for he had been in a very contrite frame of mind on
+awakening to the knowledge that he had all but lost her. And
+so the days had slipped away. An outsider had first to open his eyes
+to the fact that it was impossible for things to go on any longer as
+they were doing; that, for her sake, he must make an end, and quickly.
+
+And yet it had been so easy to drift, so hard to do otherwise, when
+Louise accepted all he did for her as a matter of course, in that
+high-handed way of hers which took no account of details. He felt
+sorry for her, too, for she was not happy. There was a gnawing
+discontent in her just now, and for this, in great measure, he held
+himself responsible: for a few weeks she had been buoyed up by the
+hope of a new life, and he had been the main agent in destroying this
+hope. In return, he had had nothing to offer her--nothing but a rigid
+living up to certain uncomfortable ideals, which brought neither
+change nor pleasure with them: and, despite his belief in the innate
+nobility of her nature, he could not but recognise that ideals were
+for her something colder and sterner than for other people.
+
+She made countless demands on his indulgence, and he learnt to see,
+only too clearly, what a dependent creature she was. It was more than
+a boon, it was a necessity to her, to have some one at her side who
+would care for her comfort and well-being. He could not picture her
+alone; for no one had less talent than she for the trifles that
+compose life. Her thoughts seemed always to be set on something
+larger, vaguer, beyond.
+
+He devoted as much time to her as he could spare from his work, and
+strove to meet her half-way in all she asked. But it was no slight
+matter; for her changes of mood had never been so abrupt as they were
+now. He did not know how to treat her. Sometimes, she was cold and
+unapproachable, so wrapped up in herself that he could not get near
+her; and perhaps only an hour later, her lips would curve upwards in
+the smile which made her look absurdly young, and her eyes, too, have
+all the questioning wonder of a child's. Or she would be silent with
+him, not unkindly, but silent as a sphinx; and, on the same day, a fit
+of loquacity would seize her, when she was unable to speak quickly
+enough for the words that bubbled to her lips. He managed to please
+her seldomer than ever. But however she behaved, he never faltered.
+The right to be beside her was now his; and the times she was the
+hardest on him were the times he loved her best.
+
+As spring, having reached and passed perfection, slipped over
+into summer, she was invaded by a restlessness that nothing could
+quell. It got into her hands and her voice, into all her movements,
+and worked upon her like a fever-like a crying need. So intense did it
+become that it communicated itself to him also. He, too, began to feel
+that rest and stillness were impossible for them both, and to be
+avoided at any cost.
+
+"I have never really seen spring," Louise said to him, one day, in
+excuse of some irrational impulse that had driven her out of the
+house. And the quick picture she drew, of how, in her native land, the
+brief winter passed almost without transi tion into the scathing
+summer; her suggestion of unchanging leaves, brown barrenness, and and
+dryness; of grass burnt to cinders, of dust, drought, and hot, sandy
+winds: all this helped him to understand something of what she was
+feeling. A remembrance of this parched heat was in her veins, making
+her eager not to miss any of the young, teeming beauty around her, or
+one of the new strange scents; eager to let the magic of this
+awakening permeate her and amaze her, like a primeval hap pening. But,
+though he thus grasped something of what was going on in her, he was
+none the less uneasy under it: just as her feverish unburdening of
+herself after hours of silence, so now her attitude towards this mere
+change of nature disquieted him; she over-enjoyed it, let herself go
+in its exuberance. And, as usual, when she lost hold of her nerves, he
+found himself retreating into his shell, practising self-control for
+two.
+
+Often, how often he could not count, the words that had to be said had
+risen to his lips. But they had never crossed them--in spite of the
+wanton greenness of the woods, which should have been the very frame
+in which to tell a woman you loved her. But not one drop of her
+nervous exaltation was meant for him: she had never shown, by the
+least sign, that she cared a jot for him; and daily he became more
+convinced that he was chasing a shadow, that he was nothing to her but
+the STAFFAGE in the picture of her life. He was torn by doubts, and
+mortally afraid of the one little word that would put an end to them.
+
+He recollected one occasion when he had nearly succeeded in telling
+her, and when, but for a trick of fate, he would have done so. They
+were on their way home from the NONNE, where the delicate undergrowth
+of the high old trees was most prodigal, and where Louise had closed
+her eyes, and drunk in the rich, earthy odours. They had
+paused on the suspension. bridge, and stood, she with one ungloved
+hand on the railing, to watch the moving water. Looking at her, it had
+seemed to him that just on this afternoon, she might listen to what he
+had to say with a merciful attentiveness; she was quiet, and her face
+was gentle. He gripped the rail with both hands. But, before he could
+open his lips, a third person turned from the wood-path on to the
+bridge, making it tremble with his steps--a jaunty cavalry officer,
+with a trim moustache and bright dancing eyes. He walked past them,
+but threw a searching look at Louise, and, a little further along the
+bridge, stood still, as if to watch something that was floating in the
+water, in reality to look covertly back at her. She had taken no
+notice of him as he passed, but when he paused, she raised her head;
+and then she looked at him--with a preoccupied air, it was true, but
+none the less steadily, and for several seconds on end. The words died
+on Maurice's lips: and going home, he was as irresponsive as she
+herself . . .
+
+"I love you, Louise--love you." He said it now, sitting back in his
+dark corner in the theatre; but amid the buzz and hum of the music,
+and the shouting of the toreadors, he might have called the words
+aloud, and still she would not have heard them.
+
+Strangely enough, however, at this moment, for the first time during
+the evening, she turned her head. His eyes were fixed on her, in a
+dark, exorbitant gaze. Her own face hardened.
+
+"The opera-glass!"
+
+Maurice opened the jeather case, and gave her the glass. Their fingers
+met, and hers groped for a moment round his hand. He withdrew it as
+though her touch had burnt him. Louise flashed a glance at him, and
+laid the opera-glass en the ledge in front of her, without making use
+of it.
+
+Slowly the traitorous blood subsided. To the reverberating music,
+which held all ears, and left him sitting alone with his fate, Maurice
+had a moment of preternatural clearness. He realised that only one
+course was open to him, and that was to go away. BEI NACHT UND NEBEL,
+if it could not be managed otherwise, but, however it happened, he
+must go. More wholly for her sake than Madeleine had dreamed of:
+unless he wanted to be led into some preposterous folly that would
+embitter the rest of his life. Who could say how long the wall he had
+built up round her--of the knowledge he shared with her, of
+pity for what she had undergone--would stand against the onset of this
+morbid, overmastering desire?
+
+To the gay, feelingless music, he thought out his departure in detail,
+sparing himself nothing.
+
+But in the long interval after the second act, when they were
+downstairs on the LOGGIA, where it was still half daylight; where the
+lights of cafes and street-lamps were only beginning here and there to
+dart into existence; where every man they met seemed to notice Louise
+with a start of attention: here Maurice was irrevocably convinced that
+it would be madness to resign his hard-won post without a struggle.
+For that it would long remain empty, he did not for a moment delude
+himself.
+
+They hardly exchanged a word during the remainder of the evening. His
+mouth was dry. Carmen, and her gaudy fate, drove past him like the
+phantasmagoria of a sleepless night.
+
+When, the opera was over, and they stood waiting for the crowd to
+thin, he scanned his companion's face with anxiety, to discover her
+mood. With her hand on the wire ledge, Louise watched the slow fall of
+the iron curtain. Her eyes were heavy; she still lived in what she had
+seen.
+
+Her preoccupation continued as they crossed the square; her movements
+were listless. Maurice's thoughts went back to a similar night, a year
+ago, when, for the first time, he had walked at her side: it had been
+just such a warm, lilac-scented night as this, and then, as now, he
+had braced himself up to speak. At that time he had known her but
+slightly; perhaps, for that very reason, he had been bolder in taking
+the plunge.
+
+He turned and looked at her. Her face was averted: he could only see
+the side of her cheek, and the clear-cut line of her chin.
+
+"Are you tired, Louise?" he asked, and, in the protective tenderness
+of his tone, her name sounded like a term of endearment.
+
+She made a vague gesture, which might signify either yes or no.
+
+"It was too hot for you up there, to-night," he went on. "Next time, I
+shall take you a scat downstairs--as I've always wanted to." As she
+still did not respond, he added, in a changed voice: "Altogether,
+though, it will be better for you to get accustomed to going alone to
+the theatre."
+
+She turned at this, with an indolent curiosity. "Why?"
+
+"Because--why, because it will soon be necessary. I'm going away."
+
+He had made a beginning now, clumsily, and not as he had intended, but
+it was made, and he would stand fast.
+
+"You are going away?"
+
+She said each word distinctly, as if she doubted her ears.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Why, Maurice?"
+
+"For several reasons. It's not a new decision. I've been thinking
+about it for some time."
+
+"Indeed? Then why choose just to-night to tell me?--you've had plenty
+of other chances. And to-night I had enjoyed the theatre, and the
+music, and coming out into the air . . ."
+
+"I'm sorry. But I've put it off too long as it is. I ought to have
+told you before.--Louise . . . you must see that things can't go on
+like this any longer?"
+
+His voice begged her for once to look at the matter as he did. But she
+heard only the imperative.
+
+"Must?" she repeated. "I don't see--not at all."
+
+"Yes.--For your sake, I must go."
+
+"Ah!--that makes it clearer. People have been talking, have they? Well,
+let them talk."
+
+"I can't hear you spoken of in that way."
+
+"Oh, you're very good. But if we, ourselves, know that what's being
+said is not true, what can it matter?"
+
+"I refuse to be the cause of it."
+
+"Do you, indeed?" She laughed. "You refuse? After doing all you can to
+make yourself indispensable, you now say: get on as best you can
+alone; I've had enough; I must go.--Don't say it's on my account--that
+the thought of yourself is not at the bottom of it--for I wouldn't
+believe you though you did."
+
+"I give you my word, I have only thought of you. I meant it . . . I
+mean it, for the best."
+
+She quickened her steps, and he saw that she was nervously worked up.
+
+"No man can want to injure the woman he respects--as I respect you."
+
+Her shoulders rose, in her own emotional way.
+
+"But tell me one thing," he begged, as she walked inexorable before
+him. "Say it will matter a little to you if I go--that you will miss
+me--if ever so little . . . Louise !"
+
+"Miss you? What does it matter whether I miss you or not? It
+seems to me that counts least of all. You, at any rate, will have
+acted properly. You will have nothing to reproach yourself with.--Oh, I
+wouldn't be a man for anything on earth! You are all--all alike. I hate
+you and despise you--every one of you!"
+
+They were within a few steps of the house. She pressed on, and,
+without looking back at him, or wishing him good-night, disappeared in
+the doorway.
+
+
+
+
+XII.
+
+
+
+It was a hot evening in June: the perfume of the lilac, now in fullest
+bloom, lay over squares and gardens like a suspended wave. The sun had
+gone down in a cloudless sky; an hour afterwards, the pavements were
+still warm to the touch, and the walls of the buildings radiated the
+heat they had absorbed. The high old houses in the inner town had all
+windows set open, and the occupants leaned out on their
+window-cushions, with continental nonchalance. The big garden-cafes
+were filled to the last scat. In the woods, the midges buzzed round
+people's heads in accompanying clouds; and streaks of treacherous
+white mist trailed, like fixed smoke, over the low-lying meadow-land.
+
+Maurice and Louise had rowed to Connewitz; but so late in the evening
+that most of the variously shaped boats, with coloured lanterns at
+their bows, were returning when they started.
+
+Louise herself had proposed it. When he went to her that afternoon, he
+found her stretched on the sofa. A theatre-ticket lay on the table--for
+she had taken him at his word, and shown him that she could do without
+him. But to-night she had no fancy for the theatre: it was too hot.
+She looked very slight and young in her white dress; but was moody and
+out of spirits.
+
+On the way to Connewitz, they spoke no more than was necessary. Coming
+back, however, they had the river to themselves; and she no longer
+needed to steer. He placed cushions for her at the bottom of the boat;
+and there she lay, with her hands clasped under her neck, watching the
+starry strip of sky, which followed them, between the tops of the
+trees above, like a complement of the river below.
+
+The solitude was unbroken; they might have gone down in the murky
+water, and no one would ever know how it had happened: a snag caught
+unawares; a clumsy movement in the light boat; half a minute, and all
+would be over.--Or, for the first and the last time in his life, he
+would take her in his arms, hold her to him, feel her cheek on his; he
+would kiss her, with kisses that were at once an initiation and a
+farewell; then, covering her eyes with his hands, he would gently,
+very gently, tilt the boat. A moment's hesitation; it sought
+to right itself; rocked violently, and overturned: and beneath it,
+locked in each other's arms, they found a common grave. . . .
+
+In fancy, he saw it all. Meanwhile, he rowed on, with long, leisurely
+strokes; and the lapping of the water round the oars was the only
+sound to be heard.
+
+At home, on the lid of his piano, lay the prospectuses of
+music-schools in other towns. They were still arriving, in answer to
+the impulsive letters he had written off, the night after the theatre.
+But the last to come had remained unopened.--He was well aware of it:
+his lingering on had all the appearance of a weak reluctance to face
+the inevitable. For he could never make mortal understand what he had
+come through, in the course of the past week. He could no more put
+into words the isolated spasms of ecstasy he had experienced--when
+nothing under the sun seemed impossible--than he could describe the
+slough of misery and uncertainty, which, on occasion, he had been
+forced to wade through. For the most part, he believed that the words
+of contempt Louise had spoken, came straight from her heart; but he
+had also known the faint stir ring of a new hope, and particularly was
+this the case when he had not seen Louise for some time. Then, at
+night, as he lay staring before him, this feeling became a sudden
+refulgence, which lighted him through all the dark hours, only to be
+reorselessly extinguished by daylight. Most frequently, however, it
+was so slender a hope as to be a mere distracting flutter at his
+heart. Whence it sprang, he could not tell--he knew Louise too well to
+believe, for a moment, that she would make use of pique to hide her
+feelings. But there was a something in her manner, which was strained;
+in the fact that she, who had never cared, should at length be moved
+by words of his; in a certain way she had looked at him, once or twice
+in these days; or in a certain way she had avoided looking at him. No,
+he did not know what it was. But nevertheless it was there--a faint,
+inarticulate existence--and, compared with it, the tangible facts of
+life were the shadows of a shadow.
+
+Surely she had fallen asleep. He said her name aloud, to try her.
+"Louise!" She did not stir, and the word floated out into the
+night--became an expression of the night itself.
+
+They had passed the weir and its foaming, and now glided under the
+bridges that spanned the narrower windings of the river. The wooden
+bathing-house looked awesome enough to harbour mysteries. Another
+sharp turn, among sedge and rushes, and the outlying streets
+of the town were on their right. The boat-sheds were in darkness, when
+they drew up alongside the narrow landing-place. Maurice got out with
+the chain in his hand, and secured the boat. Louise did not follow
+immediately. her hair had come down, and she was stiff from the
+cramped position in which she had been lying. When she did rise to her
+feet, she could hardly stand. He put out his hand, and steadied her by
+the arm.
+
+"A heavy dew must be falling. Your sleeve is wet."
+
+She made a movement to draw her arm away; at the same moment, she
+tangled her foot in her skirt, tripped, and, if he had not caught her,
+would have fallen forward.
+
+"Take care what you're doing! Do you want to drown yourself?"
+
+"I don't know. I shouldn't mind, I think," she answered tonelessly.
+
+His own balance had been endangered. Directly he had righted himself,
+he set her from him. But it could not be undone: he had had her in his
+arms, had felt all her weight on him. The sensation seemed to take his
+strength away: after the long, black, silent evening, her body was
+doubly warm, doubly real. He walked her back, along the deserted
+streets, at a pace she could not keep up with. She lagged behind. She
+was very pale, and her face wore an expression of almost physical
+suffering. She looked resolutely away from Maurice; but when her eyes
+did chance to rest on him, she was swept by such a sense of nervous
+irritation that she hated the sight of him, as he walked before her.
+
+Upstairs, in her room, when he had laid the cushions on the sofa; when
+the lamp was lighted and set on the table; when he still stood there,
+pale, and wretched, and undecided, Louise came to an abrupt decision.
+Advancing to the table, she leaned her hands on it, and bending
+forward, raised her white face to his.
+
+"You told me you were going away; why do you not go? Why have you not
+already gone?" she asked, and her mouth was hard. "I am waiting . . .
+expecting to hear."
+
+His answer was so hasty that it was all but simultaneous.
+
+"Louise!--can't you forgive me?--for what I said the other night?"
+
+"I have nothing to forgive," she replied, coldly in spite of herself.
+"You said you must go. I can't keep you here against your will."
+
+"It has made you angry with me. I have made you unhappy."
+
+"You are making us both unhappy," she said in a low voice. "Now, it is
+I who say, things can't go on like this."
+
+"I know it." He drew a deep breath. "Louise! . . . if only you could
+care a little!"
+
+There was silence after these words, but not a silence of conclusion;
+both knew now that more must follow. He raised his head, and looked
+into her eyes.
+
+"Can you not see how I love you--and how I suffer?"
+
+It was a statement rather than a question, but he was not aware of
+this: he was only amazed that, after all, he should be able to speak
+so quietly, in such an even tone of voice.
+
+There was another pause of suspense; his words seemed like balls of
+down that he had tossed into the still air: they sank, lingeringly,
+without haste; and she stood, and let them descend on her. His haggard
+eyes hung on her face; and, as he watched, he saw a change come over
+it: the enmity that had been in it, a few seconds back, died out; the
+lips softened and relaxed; and when the eyes were raised to his again,
+they were kind, full of pity.
+
+"I'm sorry. Poor boy . . . poor Maurice."
+
+She seemed to hesitate; then, with one of her frankest gestures, held
+out her hand. At its touch, soft and living, he forgot everything:
+plans and resolutions, hopes and despairs, happiness and unhappiness
+no longer existed for him; he knew only that she was sorry for him,
+that some swift change in her had made her sympathise and understand.
+He looked down, with dim eyes, at the sweet, pale face, now alight
+with compassion then, with disarming abruptness, he took her head
+between his hands, and kissed her, repeatedly, whereever his lips
+chanced to fall--on the warm mouth, the closed eyes, temples, and hair.
+
+He was gone before she recovered from her surprise. She had
+instinctively stemmed her hands against his shoulders; but, when she
+was alone, she stood just as he left her, her eyes still shut, letting
+the sensation subside, of rough, unexpected kisses. She had been taken
+unawares; her heart was beating. For a moment or two, she remained in
+the same attitude; then she passed her hand over her face. "That was
+foolish of him . . . very," she said. She looked down at herself and
+saw her hands. She stretched them out before her, with a sudden sense
+of emptiness.
+
+"If I could care! Yes--if I could only care!"
+
+At two o'clock that morning, Maurice wrote:
+
+FORGIVE ME--I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT I WAS DOING. FOR I LOVE YOU, LOUISE--NO
+WOMAN HAS EVER BEEN LOVED AS YOU ARE. I KNOW IT IS FOLLY ON MY PART. I
+HAVE NOTHING TO OFFER YOU. BUT BE MY WIFE, AND I WILL WORK MY FINGERS
+TO THE BONE FOR YOU.
+
+He went out into the summer night, and posted the letter. Returning to
+his room, he threw himself on the sofa, and fell into a heavy sleep,
+from which he did not wake till the morning was well advanced.
+
+Work was out of the question that day, when he waited as if for a
+sentence of death. He paced his narrow room, incessantly, afraid to go
+out, for fear of missing her reply. The hours dragged themselves by,
+as it is their special province to do in crises of life; and with each
+one that passed, he grew more convinced what her answer to his letter
+would be.
+
+It was late in the afternoon when the little boy she employed as a
+messenger, put a note into his hands.
+
+COME TO ME THIS EVENING.
+
+It was all but evening now; he went, just as he was, on the heels of
+the child.
+
+The windows of her room were open. She sprang up to meet him, then
+paused. He looked desperately yet stealthily at her. The commiseration
+of the previous night was still in her face; but she was now quite
+sure of herself: she drew him to the sofa and made him sit down beside
+her. Then, however, for a few seconds, in which he waited with
+hammering pulses, she did not speak. The dull fear at his heart became
+a certainty; and, unable to bear the suspense any longer, he took one
+of her hands and laid it on his forehead.
+
+Then she said: "Maurice--poor, foolish Maurice!--it is not possible. You
+see that yourself, I'm sure."
+
+"Yes. I know quite well: it is presumption."
+
+"Oh, I don't mean that. But there are so many reasons. And you, too,
+Maurice . . . Look at me, and tell me if what you wrote was not just
+an attempt to make up for what happened last night." And as he did not
+reply, she added: "You mustn't make yourself reproaches. I, too, was
+to blame."
+
+"It was nothing of the sort. I've been trying for weeks now to
+tell you. I love you--have loved you since the first time I saw you."
+
+He let go of her hand, and she sat forward, with her arms along her
+knees. Her eyes were troubled; but she did not lose her calm manner of
+speaking. "I'm sorry, Maurice, very sorry--you believe me' don't you,
+when I say so? But believe me, too, it's not so serious as you think.
+You are young. You will get over it, and forget--if not soon, at least
+in time. You must forget me, and some day you will meet the nice, good
+woman, who is to be your wife. And when that happens, you will look
+back on your fancy for me as something foolish, and unreal. You won't
+be able to understand it then, and you will be grateful to me, for not
+having taken you at your word."
+
+Maurice laughed. All the same, he tried to take his dismissal well: he
+rose, wrung her hand, and left her.
+
+In the seclusion of his own room, he went through the blackest hour of
+his life.
+
+He began to make final preparations for his departure. His choice had
+fallen on Stuttgart: it was far distant from Leipzig; he would be well
+out of temptation's way--the temptation suddenly to return. He wrote a
+letter home, apprising his relatives of his intention: by the time
+they received the letter, it would be too late for them to interfere.
+Otherwise, he took no one into his confidence. He would greatly have
+liked to wait until the present term was over; another month, and the
+summer vacation would have begun, and he would have been able to leave
+without making himself conspicuous. But every day it grew more
+impossible to be there and not to see her--for four days now he had
+kept away, fighting down his unreasoning desire to know what she was
+doing. He intended only to see her once more, to bid her good-bye.
+
+The afternoon before his interview with Schwarz--he had arranged this
+with himself for the morning, at the master's private house--he sat at
+his writing-table, destroying papers and old letters. There was a heap
+of ashes in the cold stove by the time he took out, tied up in a
+separate packet, the few odd scraps of writing he had received from
+Louise. He balanced the bundle in his hand, hesitating what to do with
+it. Finally, he untied the string, to glance through the letters once
+again.
+
+At the sight of the bold, black, familiar writing, in which each
+word--two or three to a line--seemed to have a life of its own; at the
+well-conned pages, each of which he knew by heart; at the
+characteristic, almost masculine signature, and the faint perfume that
+still clung to the paper: at the sight of these things all--that he
+had been thinking and planning since seeing her last, was effaced from
+his mind. As often before, where she was concerned, a wild impulse,
+surging up in him, took entire possession of him; and hours of patient
+and laborious reasoning were by one swift stroke blotted out.
+
+He rose, locked the letters up again, rested his arm on the lid of the
+piano, his head on his arm. The more he toyed with his inclination to
+go to her, the more absorbent it became, and straightway it was an
+ungovernable longing: it came over him with a dizzy force, which made
+him close his eyes; and he was as helpless before it as the drunkard
+before his craving to drink. Standing thus, he saw with a flash of
+insight that, though he went away as far as steam could carry him, he
+would never, as long as he lived, be safe from overthrows of this
+kind. It was something elemental, which he could no more control than
+the flow of his blood. And he did not even stay to excuse himself to
+himself: he went headlong to her, with burning words on his lips.
+
+"My poor boy," she said, when he ceased to speak. "Yes, I know what it
+is--that sudden rage that comes over one, to rush back, at all costs,
+no matter what happens afterwards.--I'm so sorry for you, Maurice. It
+is making me unhappy."
+
+"You are not to be unhappy. It shall not happen again, I promise
+you.--Besides, I shall soon be gone now." But at his own words, the
+thought of his coming desolation pierced him anew. "Give me just one
+straw to cling to! Tell me you won't forget me all at once; that you
+will miss me and think of me--if ever so little."
+
+"You asked me that the other night. Was what I said then, not answer
+enough?--And besides, in these last four days, since I have been alone,
+I've learnt just how much I shall miss you, Maurice. It's my
+punishment, I suppose, for growing so dependent on anyone."
+
+"You must go away, too. You can't stay here by yourself. We must both
+go, in opposite directions, and begin afresh."
+
+She did not reply at once. "I shouldn't know where to go," she said,
+after a time. "Will nothing else do, Maurice? Is there no other
+way?--Oh, why can't we go on being friends, as we were!"
+
+He shook his head. "I've struggled against it so long--you don't know.
+I've never really been your friend--only I couldn't hurt you
+before, by telling you. And it has worn me out; I'm good for nothing.
+Louise!--think, just once more--ask yourself, once more, if it's quite
+impossible, before you send me into the outer darkness."
+
+She was silent.
+
+"I don't ask you to love me," he went on, in a low voice. "I've come
+down from that, in these wretched days. I would be content with less,
+much less. I only ask you to let yourself be loved--as I could love
+you. If only you could say you liked me a little, all the rest would
+come, I'm confident of it. In time, I should make you love me. For I
+would take, oh, such care of you! I want to make you happy, only to
+make you happy. I've no other wish than to show you what happiness
+is."
+
+"It sounds so good . . . you are good, Maurice. But the future--tell
+me, have thought of the future?"
+
+"I should think I have.--Do you suppose it means nothing to me to be so
+despicably poor as I am? To have absolutely nothing to offer you?"
+
+She took his hand. "That's not what I mean. And you know it. Come, let
+us talk sensibly this afternoon, and look things straight in the
+face.--You want to marry me, you say, and let the rest come? That is
+very, very good of you, and I shall never forget it.--But what does it
+mean, Maurice? You have been here a little over a year now, haven't
+you?--and still have about a year to stay. When that's over, you will
+go back to England. You will settle in some small place, and spend
+your life, or the best part of your life, there--oh, Maurice, you are
+my kind friend, but I tell you frankly, I couldn't face life in an
+English provincial town. I'm not brave enough for that."
+
+He gleaned a ray of hope from her words. "We could live here--anywhere
+you liked. I would make it possible. I swear I would."
+
+She shook her head, and went on, with the same reasonable sweetness.
+"And then, there's another thing. If I married you, sooner or later
+you would have to take me home to your people. Have you really thought
+of that, and how you would feel about it, when it came to the
+point?--No, no, it's impossible for me to marry you."
+
+"But that--that American!--you would have married him?"
+
+"That was different," she said, and her voice grew thinner.
+"It's the knowing that tells, Maurice. You would have that still to
+learn. You don't realise it yet, but afterwards, it would come home to
+you.--Listen! You have always been kind to me, I owe you such a debt of
+gratitude, that I'm going to be frank, brutally frank with you. I've
+told you often that I shall never really care for anyone again. You
+know that, don't you? Well, I want to tell you, too--I want you to
+understand quite, quite clearly that . . . that I belonged to him
+altogether--entirely--that I . . . Oh, you know what I mean!"
+
+Maurice covered his face with his hands. "The past is the past. It
+should never be mentioned between us. It doesn't matter--nothing
+matters now."
+
+"You say that--every one says that--beforehand," she answered; and not
+only her words, but also her way of saying them, seemed to set her
+down miles away from him, on a lonely pinnacle of experience.
+"Afterwards, you would think differently."
+
+"Louise, if you really cared, it would be different. You wouldn't say
+such things, then--you would be only too glad not to say them."
+
+In her heart she knew that he was right, and did not contradict him.
+The busy little clock on the writing-table ticked away a few seconds.
+With a jerk, Maurice rose to his feet. Louise remained sitting, and he
+looked down on her black head. His gaze was so insistent that she felt
+it, and raised her eyes. His forlorn face moved her.
+
+"Why is it--what is the matter with me?--that I must upset your life
+like this? I can't bear to see you so unhappy.--And yet I haven't done
+anything, have I? I have always been honest with you; I've never made
+myself out to be better than I am. There must be something wrong with
+me, I think, that no one can ever be satisfied to be just my
+friend.--Yet with you I thought it was different. I thought things
+could go on as they were. Maurice, isn't it possible? Say it is! Show
+me just one little spark of good in myself!"
+
+"I'm not different from other men, Louise. I deluded myself long
+enough, God knows!"
+
+She made a despondent gesture, and turned away. "Well, then, if either
+of us should go, I'm the one. You have your work. I do nothing; I have
+no ties, no friends--I never even seem to have been able to make
+acquaintances. And if I went, you could stay quietly on. In time, you
+would forget me.--If I only knew where to go! I am so alone,
+and it is all so hard. I shall never know what it is to be happy
+myself, or to make anyone else happy--never!" and she burst into tears.
+
+It was his turn now to play the comforter. Drawing a. chair up before
+her, he took her hand, and said all he could think of to console her.
+He could bear anything, he told her, but to see her unhappy. All would
+yet turn out to be for the best. And, on one point, she was to set her
+mind at rest: her going away would not benefit him in the least. He
+would never consent to stay on alone, where they had been so much
+together.
+
+"I've nothing to look forward to, nothing," she sobbed. "There's
+nothing I care to live for."
+
+As soon as she was quieter, he left her.
+
+For an hour or more Louise lay huddled up on the sofa, with her face
+pressed to her arm.
+
+When she sat up again, she pushed back her heavy hair, and, clasping
+her hands loosely round her knees, stared before her with vacant eyes.
+But not for long; tired though she was, and though her head ached from
+crying, there was still a deep residue of excitement in her. The level
+beams of the sun were pouring blindly into the room; the air was dense
+and oppressive. She rose to her feet and moved about. She did not know
+what to do with herself: she would have liked to go out and walk; but
+the dusty, jarring light of the summer streets frightened her. She
+thought of music, of the theatre, as a remedy for the long evening
+that yawned before her: then dismissed the idea from her mind. She was
+in such a condition of restlessness, this night, that the fact of
+being forced to sit still between two other human beings, would make
+her want to scream.
+
+The sun was getting low; the foliage of the trees in the opposite
+gardens was black, with copper edges, against the refulgence of the
+sky. She leaned her hands on the sill, and gazed fixedly at the
+stretch of red and gold, which, like the afterglow of a fire, flamed
+behind the trees. Her eyes were filled with it. She did not think or
+feel: she became one, by looking, with the sight before her. As she
+stood there, nothing of her existed but her two widely opened eyes;
+she was a miracle wrought by the sunset; she WAS the sunset--in one of
+those vacancies of mind, which all intense gazers know.
+
+How long she had remained thus she could not have told, when a strange
+thing happened to her. From some sub-conscious layer of her brain,
+which started into activity because the rest of it was so
+passive, a small, still thought glided in, and took possession of her
+mind. At first, it was so faint that she hardly grasped it; but, once
+established there, it became so vivid that, with one sweep, it blotted
+out trees and sunset; so real that it seemed always to have been
+present to her. Without conscious effort on her part, the solution to
+her difficulties had been found; a decision had been arrived at, but
+not by her; it was the work of some force outside herself.
+
+She turned from the window, and pressed her hands to her blinded eyes.
+Good God! it was so simple. To think that this had not occurred to her
+before!--that, throughout the troubled afternoon, the idea had never
+once suggested itself! There was no need of loneliness and suffering
+for either of them. He might stay; they both might stay; she could
+make him happy, and ward off the change she so dreaded.--Who was she to
+stick at it?
+
+But she remained dazed, doubtful as it were of this peaceful ending;
+her hand still covered her eyes. Then, with one of the swift movements
+by which it was her custom to turn thought into action, she went to
+the writing-table, and scrawled a few, big words.
+
+MAURICE, I HAVE FOUND A WAY. COME BACK TO-MORROW EVENING.
+
+She hesitated only over the last two words, and, before writing them,
+sat with her chin in her hand, and deliberately considered. Then she
+addressed the envelope, and stamped it: it would be soon enough if he
+got it through the post, the following morning.
+
+But, with her, to resolve was to act; she was ill at ease under
+enforced procrastination; and had often to fight against a burning
+impatience, when circumstances delayed the immediate carrying out of
+her will. In this case, however, she had voluntarily postponed
+Maurice's return for twenty-four hours, when he might have been with
+her in less than one: for, in her mind, there lurked the seductive
+thought of a long, summer day, with an emotion at its close to which
+she could look forward.
+
+In the meantime, she was puzzled how to fill up the evening. After
+all, she decided to go to the theatre, where she arrived in time to
+hear the last two acts of AIDA. From a seat in the PARQUET, close to
+the orchestra, she let the showy music play round her.
+Afterwards, she walked home through the lilachaunted night, went to
+bed, and at once fell asleep.
+
+Next morning, she wakened early--that was the sole token of
+disturbance, she could detect in herself. It was very still; there was
+a faint twittering of birds, but the noises of the street had not yet
+begun. She lay in the subdued yellow light of her room, with one arm
+across her eyes.
+
+Fresh from sleep, she understood certain things as never before. She
+saw all that had happened of late--her slow recovery, her striving and
+seeking, her growing friendship with Maurice--in a different light. On
+this morning, too, she was able to answer one of the questions that
+had puzzled her the night before. She saw that the relations in which
+they had stood to each other, during the bygone months, would have
+been impossible, had she really cared for him. She liked him, yes, had
+always liked him; and, in addition, his patience and kindness had made
+her deeply grateful to him. But that was all. Neither his hands, nor
+his voice, nor his eyes, nor anything he did, had had the power to
+touch her--SO to touch her, that her own hands and eyes would have met
+his half-way; that the old familiar craving, which was partly fear and
+partly attraction, would have made her callous to his welfare. Had
+there been a breath of this, things would have come to a climax long
+ago. Hot and eager as she was, she could not have lived on coolly at
+his side--and, at this moment, she found it difficult to make up her
+mind whether she admired Maurice or the reverse, for having been able
+to carry his part through.
+
+And yet, though no particle of personal feeling drew her to him, she,
+too, had suffered, in her own way, during these weeks of morbid
+tension, when he had been incapable either of advancing or retreating.
+How great the strain had been, she recognised only in the instant when
+he had spanned the breach, in clear, unmistakable words. If he had not
+done it, she would have been forced to; for she could never find
+herself to rights, for long, in half circumstances: if she were not to
+grow bewildered, she had to see her road simple and straight before
+her. His words to her after they had been on the river together--more,
+perhaps, his bold yet timid kisses--had given her back strength and
+assurance. She was no longer the miserable instrument on which he
+tried his changes of mood; she was again the giver and the bestower,
+since she held a heart and a heart's happiness in the hollow of her
+hand.
+
+What people would think and say was a matter of indifference
+to her: besides, they practically believed the worst of her already.
+No; she had nothing to lose and, it might be, much to gain. And after
+all, it meant so little! The first time, perhaps; or if one cared too
+much. But in this case, where she had herself well in hand, and where
+there was no chance of the blind desire to kill self arising, which
+had been her previous undoing; where the chief end aimed at was the
+retention of a friend--here, it meant nothing at all.
+
+The thought that she might possibly have scruples on his part to
+combat, crossed her mind. She stretched her arm straight above her
+head, then laid it across her eyes again. She would like him none the
+less for these scruples, did they exist: now, she believed that, at
+heart, she had really appreciated his reserve, his holding back, where
+others would have been so ready to pounce in. For the first time, she
+considered him in the light of a lover, and she saw him differently.
+As if the mere contemplation of such a change brought her nearer to
+him, she was stirred by a new sensation, which had him as its object.
+And under the influence of this feeling, she told herself that perhaps
+just in this gentler, kindlier love, which only sought her welfare,
+true happiness lay. She strained to read the future. There would be
+storms neither of joy nor of pain; but watchful sympathy, and the
+fine, manly tenderness that shields and protects. Oh, what if after
+all her passionate craving for happiness, it was here at her feet,
+having come to her as good things often do, unexpected and unsought!
+
+She could lie still no longer; she sprang up, with an alacrity that
+had been wanting in her movements of late. And throughout the long
+day, this impression, which was half a hope and half a belief was
+present to her mind, making everything she did seem strangely festive.
+She almost feared the moment when she would see him again, lest
+anything he said should dissipate her hope.
+
+When he came, her eyes followed him searchingly. With an instinct that
+was now morbidly sharpened, Maurice was aware of the change in her,
+even before he saw her eyes. His own were one devouring question.
+
+She made him sit down beside her.
+
+"What is it, Louise? Tell me--quickly. Remember, I've been all day in
+suspense," he said, as seconds passed and she did not speak.
+
+"You got my note then?"
+
+"What is it?--what did you mean?"
+
+"Just a little patience, Maurice. You take one's breath away.
+You want to know everything at once. I sent for you because--oh,
+because . . . I want you to let us go on being friends."
+
+"Is that all?" he cried, and his face fell. "When I have told you
+again and again that's just what I can't do?"
+
+She smiled. "I wish I had known you as a boy, Maurice--oh, but as quite
+a young boy!" she said in such a changed voice that he glanced up in
+surprise. Whether it was the look she bent on him, or her voice, or
+her words, he did not know; but something emboldened him to do what he
+had often done in fancy: he slid to his knees before her, and laid his
+head on her lap. She began to smooth back his hair, and each time her
+hand came forward, she let it rest for a moment.--She wondered how he
+would look when he knew.
+
+"You can't care for me, I know. But I would give my life to make you
+happy."
+
+"Why do you love me?" She experienced a new pleasure in postponing his
+knowing, postponing it indefinitely.
+
+"How can I say? All I know is how I love you--and how I have suffered."
+
+"My poor Maurice," she said, in the same caressing way. "Yes, I shall
+always call you poor.--For the love I could give you would be worthless
+compared with yours."
+
+"To me it would be everything.--If you only knew how I have longed for
+you, and how I have struggled!"
+
+He took enough of her dress to bury his face in. She sat back, and
+looked over him into the growing dusk of the room: and, in the
+alabaster of her face, nothing seemed to live except her black eyes,
+with the half-rings of shadow.
+
+Suddenly, with the unexpectedness that marked her movements when she
+was very intent, she leant forward again, and, with her elbow on her
+knee, her chin on her hand, said in a low voice: "Is it for ever?"
+
+"For ever and ever."
+
+"Say it's for ever." She still looked past him, but her lips had
+parted, and her face wore the expression of a child's listening to
+fairy-tales. At her own words, a vista seemed to open up before her,
+and, at the other end, in blue haze, shone the great good that had
+hitherto eluded her.
+
+"I shall always love you," said the young man. "Nothing can make any
+difference."
+
+"For ever," she repeated. "They are pretty words."
+
+Then her expression changed; she took his head between her
+hands.
+
+"Maurice . . . I'm older than you, and I know better than you, what
+all this means. Believe me, I'm not worth your love. I'm only the
+shadow of my old self. And you are still so young and so . . . so
+untried. There's still time to turn back, and be wise."
+
+He raised his head.
+
+"What do you mean? Why are you saying these things? I shall always
+love you. Life itself is nothing to me, without you. I want you . . .
+only you."
+
+He put his arms round her, and tried to draw her to him. But she held
+back. At the expression of her face, he had a moment of acute
+uncertainty, and would have loosened his hold. But now it was she who
+knotted her hands round his neck, and gave him a long, penetrating
+look. He was bewildered; he did not understand what it meant; but it
+was something so strange that, again, he had the impulse to let her
+go. She bent her head, and laid her face against his; cheek rested on
+cheek. He took her face between his hands, and stared into her eyes,
+as if to tear from them what was passing in her brain. Over both, in
+the same breath, swept the warm, irresistible wave of self-surrender.
+He caught her to him, roughly and awkwardly, in a desperate embrace,
+which the kindly dusk veiled and redeemed.
+
+
+
+
+XIII.
+
+
+
+"Now you will not leave me, Maurice?"
+
+"Never . . . while I live."
+
+"And you . . ."
+
+"No. Don't ask me yet. I can't tell you."
+
+"Maurice!"
+
+"Forgive me! Not yet. That after all you should care a little! After
+all . . . that you should care so much!"
+
+"And it is for ever?"
+
+"For ever and ever . . . what do you take me for? But not here! Let us
+go away--to some new place. We will make it our very own."
+
+Their words came in haste, yet haltingly; were all but inaudible
+whispers; went flying back and forwards, like brief cries for aid,
+implying a peculiar sense of aloofness, of being cut adrift and thrown
+on each other's mercy.
+
+Louise raised her head.
+
+"Yes, we will go away. But now, Maurice--at once!"
+
+"Yes. To-night . . . to-morrow . . . when you like."
+
+The next morning, he set out to find a place. Three weeks of the term
+had still to run, and he was to have played in an ABENDUNTERHALTUNG,
+before the vacation. But, compared with the emotional upheaval he had
+undergone, this long-anticipated event was of small consequence. To
+Schwarz, he alleged a succession of nervous headaches, which
+interfered with his work. His looks lent colour to the statement; and
+though, as a rule, highly irritated by opposition to his plans,
+Schwarz only grumbled in moderation. He would have let no one else off
+so easily, and, at another time, the knowledge of this would have
+rankled in Maurice, as affording a fresh proof of the master's
+indifference towards him. As it was, he was thankful for the freedom
+it secured him.
+
+On the strength of a chance remark of Madeleine's, which he had
+remembered, he found what he looked for, without difficulty. It could
+not have been better: a rambling inn, with restaurant, set in a
+clearing on the top of a wooded hill, with an open view over the
+undulating plains.
+
+That night, he wrote to Louise from the Rochlitzer Berg, painting the
+nest he had found for them in glowing colours, and begging her
+to come without delay. But the whole of the next day passed without a
+word from her, and the next again, and not till the morning of the
+third, did he receive a note, announcing her arrival for shortly after
+midday. He took it with him to the woods, and lay at full length on
+the moss.
+
+Although he had been alone now for more than forty-eight hours--a July
+quiet reigned over the place--he had not managed to think connectedly.
+He was still dazed, disbelieving of what had happened. Again and again
+he told himself that his dreams and hopes--which he had always pushed
+forward into a vague and far-off future--had actually come to pass. She
+was his, all his; she had given herself ungrudgingly: as soon as he
+could make it possible, she would be his wife. But, in the meantime,
+this was all he knew: his nearer vision was obstructed by the
+stupefying thought of the weeks to come. She was to be there, beside
+him, day after day, in a golden paradise of love. He could only think
+of it with moist eyes; and he swore to himself that he would repay her
+by being more infinitely careful of her than ever man before of the
+woman he loved. But though he repeated this to himself, and believed
+it, his feelings had unwittingly changed their pole. On his knees
+before her, he had vowed that her happiness was the end of all his
+pleading; now it was frankly happiness he sought, the happiness of
+them both, but, first and foremost, happiness. And it could hardly
+have been otherwise: the one unpremeditated mingling of their lives
+had killed thought; he could only feel now, and, throughout these
+days, he was conscious of each movement he made, as of a song sung
+aloud. He wandered up and down the wooded paths, blind to everything
+but the image of her face, which was always with him, and oftenest as
+it had bent over him that last evening, with the strange new fire in
+its eyes. Closing his own, he felt again her arms on his shoulders,
+her lips meeting his, and, at such moments, it could happen that he
+threw his arms round a tree, in an ungovernable rush of longing.
+Beyond the moment when he should clasp her to him again, he could not
+see: the future was as indistinct as were the Saxon plains, in the
+haze of morning or evening.
+
+He set out to meet her far too early in the day, and when he had
+covered the couple of miles that lay between the inn on the hill and
+the railway-station at the foot, he was obliged to loiter about the
+sleepy little town for over an hour. But gradually the time ticked
+away; the hands of his watch pointed to a quarter to two, and
+presently he found himself on the shadeless, sandy station
+which lay at the end of a long, sandy street, edged with two rows of
+young and shadeless trees; found himself looking along the line of
+rail that was to bring her to him. Would the signal never go up? He
+began to feel, in spite of the strong July sunlight, that there was
+something illusive about the whole thing. Or perhaps it was just this
+harsh, crude light, without relieving shadows, which made his
+surroundings seem unreal to him. However it was, the nearer the moment
+came when he would see her again, the more improbable it seemed that
+the train, which was even now overdue, should actually be carrying her
+towards him--her to him! He would yet waken, with a shock. But then,
+coming round a corner in the distance, at the side of a hill, he saw
+the train. At first it appeared to remain stationary, then it
+increased in size, approached, made a slight curve, and was a snaky
+line; it vanished, and reappeared, leaving first a white trail of
+cloud, then thick rounded puffs of cloud, until it was actually there,
+a great black object, with a creak and a rattle.
+
+He had planted himself at the extreme end of the platform, and the
+carriages went past him. He hastened, almost running, along the train.
+At the opposite end, a door was opened, the porter took out some bags,
+and Louise stepped down, and turned to look for him. He was the only
+person on the station, besides the two officials, and in passing she
+had caught a glimpse of his face. If he looks like that, every one
+will know, she thought to herself, and her first words, as he came
+breathlessly up, were: "Maurice, you mustn't look so glad!"
+
+He had never really seen her till now, when, in a white dress, with
+eyes and lips alight, she stood alone with him on the wayside
+platform. To curb his first, impetuous gesture, Louise had stretched
+out both her hands. He stood holding them, unable to take his eyes
+from her face. At her movement to withdraw them, he stooped and kissed
+them.
+
+"Not look glad? Then you shouldn't have come."
+
+They left her luggage to be sent up later in the day, and set out on
+their walk. Going down the shadeless street, and through the town, she
+was silent. At first, as they went, Maurice pointed out things that he
+thought would interest her, and spoke as if he attached importance to
+them. While, in reality, nothing mattered, now that she was beside
+him. And gradually, he, too, lapsed into silence, walking by her side
+across the square, and through the narrow streets, with the solemnly
+festive feelings of a child on Sunday. They crossed the moat,
+passed through the gates and courtyard of the old castle, and began to
+ascend the steep path that was a short-cut to the woods. It was
+exposed to the full glare of the sun, and, on reaching the sheltering
+trees, Louise gave a sigh of relief, and stood still to take off her
+hat.
+
+"It's so hot. And I like best to be bareheaded."
+
+"Yes, and now I can see you better. Is it really you, at last? I still
+can't believe it.--That you should have come to me!"
+
+"Yes, I'm real," she smiled, and thrust the pins through the crown of
+the hat. "But very tired, Maurice. It was so hot, and the train was so
+slow."
+
+"Tired?--of course, you must be. Come, there's a seat just round this
+corner. You shall rest there."
+
+They sat, and he laid his arm along the back of the bench. With his
+left hand he turned her face towards him. "I must see you. I expect
+every minute to wake and find it's not true."
+
+"And yet you haven't even told me you're glad to see me."
+
+"Glad? No. Glad is only a word."
+
+She leaned lightly against the protective pressure of his arm. On one
+of her hands lying in her lap, a large spot of sunlight settled. He
+stooped and put his lips to it. She touched his head.
+
+"Were the days long without me?"
+
+"Why didn't you come sooner?"
+
+Not that he cared, or even cared to know, now that she was there. But
+he wanted to hear her speak, to remember that he could now have her
+voice in his ears, whenever he chose. But Louise was not disposed to
+talk; the few words she said, fell unwillingly from her lips. The
+stillness of the forest laid its spell upon them: each faint rustling
+among the leaves was audible; not a living thing stirred except
+themselves. The tall firs and beeches stretched infinitely upwards,
+and the patches of light that lay here and there on the moss, made the
+cool darkness seem darker.
+
+When they walked on again, Maurice put his arm through hers, and, in.
+this intimacy of touch, was conscious of every step she took. It made
+him happy to suit his pace to hers, to draw her aside from a spreading
+root or loose stone, and to feel her respond to his pressure. She
+walked for the most part languidly, looking to the ground. But at a
+thickly wooded turn of the path, where it was very dark, where the
+sunlight seemed far away, and the pine-scent was more pungent than
+elsewhere, she stopped, to drink in the spicy air with open lips and
+nostrils.
+
+"It's like wine. Maurice, I'm glad we came here--that you found
+this place. Think of it, we might still be sitting indoors, with the
+blinds drawn, knowing that the pavements were baking in the sun. While
+here! . . . Oh, I shall be happy here!"
+
+She was roused for a moment to a rapturous content with her
+surroundings. She looked childishly happy and very young. Maurice
+pressed her arm, without speaking: he was so foolishly happy that her
+praise of the place affected him like praise of himself. Again, he had
+a chastened feeling of exhilaration: as though an acme of satisfaction
+had been reached, beyond which it was impossible to go.
+
+On catching sight of the rambling wooden building, in the midst of the
+clearing that had been made among the encroaching trees, Louise gave
+another cry of pleasure, and before entering the house, went to the
+edge of the terrace, and looked down on the plains. But upstairs, in
+her room on the first storey, he made her rest in an arm-chair by the
+window. He himself prepared the tea, proud to perform the first of the
+trivial services which, from now on, were to be his. There was nothing
+he would not do for her, and, as a beginning, he persuaded her to lie
+down on the sofa and try to sleep.
+
+Once outside again, he did not know how to kill time; and the
+remainder of the afternoon seemed interminable. He endeavoured to
+read, but could not take in the meaning of two consecutive sentences.
+He was afraid to go far away, in case she should wake and miss him. So
+he loitered about in the vicinity of the house, and returned every few
+minutes, to see if her blind were not drawn up. Finally, he sat down
+at one of the tables on the terrace, where he had her window in sight.
+Towards six o'clock, his patience was exhausted; going upstairs, he
+listened outside the door of her room. Not a sound. With infinite
+precaution, he turned the handle, and looked in.
+
+She was lying just as he had left her, fast asleep. Her head was a
+little on one side; her left hand was under her cheek, her right lay
+palm upwards on the rug that covered her. Maurice sat down in the
+arm-chair.
+
+At first, he looked furtively, afraid of disturbing her; then more
+openly, in the hope that she would waken. Sitting thus, and thinking
+over the miracle that had happened to him, he now sought to find
+something in her face for him alone, which had previously not been
+there. But his thoughts wandered as he gazed. How he loved it!--this
+face of hers. He was invariably worked on afresh by the
+blackness of the lustreless hair; by the pale, imperious mouth; by the
+dead white pallor of the skin, which shaded to a dusky cream in the
+curves of neck and throat, and in the lines beneath the eyes was of a
+bluish brown. Now the lashes lay in these encircling rings. Without
+doubt, it was the eyes that supplied life to the face: only when they
+were open, and the lips parted over the strong teeth, was it possible
+to realise how intense a vitality was latent in her. But his love
+would wipe out the last trace of this wan tiredness. He would be
+infinitely careful of her: he would shield her from the impulsiveness
+of her own nature; she should never have cause to regret what she had
+done. And the affection that bound them would day by day grow
+stronger. All his work, all his thoughts, should belong to her alone;
+she would be his beloved wife; and through him she would learn what
+love really was.
+
+He rose and stood over her, longing to share his feelings with her.
+But she remained sunk in her placid sleep, and as he stood, he became
+conscious of a different sensation. He had never seen her face--except
+convulsed by weeping--when it was not under full control. Was it
+because he had stared so long at it, or was it really changed in
+sleep? There was something about it, at this moment, which he could
+not explain: it almost looked less fine. The mouth was not so proudly
+reticent as he had believed it to be; there was even a want of
+restraint about it; and the chin had fallen. He did not care to see it
+like this: it made him uneasy. He stooped and touched her hand. She
+started up, and could not remember where she was. She put both hands
+to her forehead. "Maurice!--what is it? Have I been asleep long?"
+
+He held his watch before her eyes. With a cry she sprang to her feet.
+Then she sent him downstairs.
+
+They were the only guests. They had supper alone in a longish room, at
+a little table spread with a coloured cloth. The window was open
+behind them, and the branches of the trees outside hung into the room.
+In honour of the occasion, Maurice ordered wine, and they remained
+sitting, after they had finished supper, listening to the rustling and
+swishing of the trees. The only drawback to the young man's happiness
+was the pertinacious curiosity of the girl who waited on them. She
+lingered after she had served them, and stared so hard that Maurice
+turned at length and asked her what the matter was.
+
+The girl coloured to the roots of her hair.
+
+"Ach, Fraulein is so pretty," she answered naivly, in her
+broad Saxon dialect.
+
+Both laughed, and Louise asked her name, and if she always lived
+there. Thus encouraged, Amalie, a buxom, thickset person, with a
+number of flaxen plaits, came forward and began to talk. Her eyes were
+fixed on Louise, and she only occasionally glanced from her to the
+young man.
+
+"It's nice to have a sweetheart," she said suddenly.
+
+Louise laughed again and coloured. "Haven't you got one, Amalie?"
+
+Amalie shook her head, and launched out into a tale of faithlessness
+and desertion. "Yes, if I were as pretty as you, Fraulein, it would be
+a different thing," she ended, with a hearty sigh.
+
+Maurice clattered up from the table. "All right, Amalie, that'll do."
+
+They went out of doors, and strolled about in the twilight. He had
+intended to show her some of the pretty nooks in the neighbourhood of
+the house. But she was not as affable with him as she had been with
+Amalie; she walked at his side with an air of preoccupied
+indifference.
+
+When they sat down on a seat, on the side of the hill, the moon had
+risen. It was almost at the full, and a few gently sailing scraps of
+cloud, which crossed it, made it seem to be coming towards them. The
+plains beneath were veiled in haze; detached sounds mounted from them:
+the prolonged barking of a dog, the drone of an approaching train.
+Round about them, the air was heavy with the scent of the sun-warmed
+pines. Maurice had taken her hand and sat holding it: it was the one
+thing that existed for him. All else was vague and unreal: only their
+two hearts beat in all the universe. But there was no interchange
+between them of binding words or endearments, such as pass between
+most lovers.
+
+How long they sat, neither could have told. But suddenly, far below, a
+human voice was raised in a long cry, which echoed against the side of
+the hill. Louise shivered: and he had a moment of apprehension.
+
+"You're cold. We have sat too long. Let us go."
+
+They rose, and walked slowly back to the house.
+
+Although the doors were still open, the building was in darkness, and
+they had to grope their way up the stairs. Outside her room, he paused
+to light the candle that was standing on the table, but Louise opened
+the door and went in. As she did so, she gave a cry. The blind
+had not been lowered, and a patch of greenish-white moonlight lay on
+the floor before the window, throwing the rest of the room into massy
+shadow. She went forward and stood in it.
+
+"Don't make a light," she said to him over her shoulder.
+
+Maurice put down the matches, with which he had been fumbling, went
+quickly in after her, and shut the door.
+
+Before anyone else was astir, he had flung out into the freshness of
+the morning. It was cool in the shade of the woods; grass and moss
+were a little moist with dew. He did not linger under the trees; he
+needed movement; and striding along the driving-road, which ran down
+the hill where the incline was easiest, he went out on the plains,
+among the little villages that dotted the level land like huge clumps
+of mushrooms. He carried his cap in his hand, and let the early sun
+play on his head.
+
+When he returned, it was nine o'clock, and he was ravenously hungry.
+Amalie carried the coffee and the crisp brown rolls to one of the
+small tables on the terrace, and herself stood, after she had served
+him, and looked over the edge of the hill. When he had finished
+eating, he opened a volume of DICHTUNG UND WAHRHEIT, which he carried
+in his pocket, and began to read. But after a few lines, his thoughts
+wandered; the book had a chilling effect on him in his present mood;
+the writing seemed stiff and strained--the work of a very old man.
+
+At first, that morning, he had not ventured to review even in thought
+the past hours. Now, however, that he was again within a stone's throw
+of Louise, memories crowded upon him; he gazed, with a passion of
+gratefulness, at her window. One detail stood out more vividly than
+all the rest. It was that of waking suddenly at dawn, from a dreamless
+sleep, and of finding on his pillow, a thick tress of black ruffled
+hair. For a moment, he had hardly been able to believe his eyes; and
+even yet, the mere remembrance of this dusky hair on the pillow's
+whiteness, seemed to bring what had happened home to him, as nothing
+else could have done.
+
+She had slept on, undisturbed, and she was still asleep, to judge from
+the lowered blind. But though hours seemed to pass while he sat there,
+he was not dissatisfied; it was enough to know how near she was to
+him.
+
+When she came, she was upon him before he was aware of it. At the
+light step behind, he sprang from his seat.
+
+"At last!"
+
+"Are you tired of waiting for me?"
+
+She was in the same white dress, and a soft-brimmed hat fell over her
+forehead. He did not answer her words; for Amalie followed on her
+heels with fresh coffee, and made a great business of re-setting the
+table.
+
+"WUNSCHE GUTEN APPETIT!"
+
+The girl retired to a distance, but still lingered, keeping them in
+sight. Maurice leaned across the table. "Tell me how you are. Have you
+forgotten me?" He tried to take her hand.
+
+"Take care, Maurice. We can be seen here."
+
+"How that girl stares! Why doesn't she go away?"
+
+"She is envying me my sweetheart again . . . who won't let me eat my
+breakfast."
+
+"I've been alone for hours, Louise. Tell me what I want to know."
+
+"Yes--afterwards. The coffee is getting cold."
+
+He sat back and watched her movements, with fanatic eyes. She was not
+confused by the insistence of his gaze; but she did not return it. She
+was paler than usual; and the lines beneath her eyes were blacker.
+Maurice believed that he could detect a new note in her voice this
+morning; and he tried to make her speak, in order that he might hear
+it; but she was as chary of her words as of her looks. Attracted by
+the two strangers, a little child of the landlord's came running up to
+stare shyly. She spread a piece of bread with honey, and gave it to
+the child. He was absurdly jealous, and she knew it.
+
+For the rest of the morning, she would have been content to bask in
+the sun, but when she saw how impatient he was, she gave way, and they
+went out of the sight of other people, into the friendly, screening
+woods.
+
+"I thought you would never come."
+
+"Why didn't you wake me? Oh, gently, Maurice! You forget that I've
+just done my hair."
+
+"To-day I shall forget everything. Let me look at you again . . .
+right into your eyes."
+
+"To-day you believe I'm real, don't you? Are you satisfied?"
+
+"And you, Louise, you?--Say you're happy, too!"
+
+They came upon the FRIEDRICH AUGUST TURM, a stone tower, standing on
+the highest point of the hill, beside a large quarry; and, too idly
+happy to refuse, climbed the stone steps, led by a persuasive old
+pensioner, who, on the platform at the top, adjusted the telescope,
+and pointed out the distant landmarks, with something of an owner's
+pride. On this morning, Maurice would not have been greatly
+surprised to hear that the streaky headline of the Dover coast was
+visible: he had eyes for her alone, as, with assumed interest, she
+followed the old man's hand, learned where Leipzig lay, and how, on a
+clear day, its many spires could be distinguished.
+
+"Over there, Maurice . . . a little more to the right. How far away we
+seem!"
+
+Leaning against the parapet, he continued to look at her. The few
+ordinary words meant in reality something quite different. It was as
+if she had said to him: "Yes, yes, be at rest--I am still yours;" and
+he told himself, with a feverish pleasure, that, from now on,
+everything she said in the presence of others would be a cloak for
+what she really meant to say. He had been right, there was a new tone
+in her voice this morning, an imperceptible vibration, a sensuous
+undertone, which seemed to have been left over from those moments when
+it had quivered like a roughly touched string beneath a bow. Going
+down the steps behind her, he heard her dress swish from step to step,
+and saw the fine grace of her strong, supple body. At a bend in the
+stair, he held her back and kissed her neck, just where the hair
+stopped growing. On the ground-floor, she paused to pick out a trifle
+from a table set with mementoes. The old man praised his wares with
+zeal, taking up this and that in his old, reddened hands, on which the
+skin was drawn and glazed, like a coating of gelatine. Louise chose a
+carved wooden pen; a tiny round of glass was set in the handle,
+through which might be seen a view of the tower, with an encircling
+motto.
+
+After this, he had her to himself, for the rest of the day. They sat
+on a seat that was screened by trees, and thickly grown about. His arm
+lay along the back of the bench, and every now and then his hand
+sought and pressed the warm, soft round of her shoulder. In this
+attitude, he poured out his heart to her. Hitherto, the very essence
+of his love had been taciturn endurance; now, he felt how infinitely
+much he had to say to her: all that he had undergone since knowing her
+first, all the hopes and feelings that had so long been pent up in
+him, struggled to escape. Now, there was no hindrance to his telling
+her everything; it was not only permissible, but right that he should:
+henceforth there must be no strangeness between them, no knowledge,
+pleasant or unpleasant, that she did not share. And he went back, and
+dwelt on details and events long past, which, unknown to himself, his
+memory had stored up; but it was chiefly the restless misery of the
+past half year that was his theme--he took the same pleasure
+in reciting it, now that it was over, as the convalescent in relating
+his sufferings. Besides that, it was easier, there being nothing to
+conceal; whereas, in referring to an earlier time, a certain name had
+to be shirked and gone round about, like a plague-spot. His
+impassioned words knew no halt; he was amazed at his own eloquence.
+And the burden of months fell away from him as he talked.
+
+The receptiveness of her silence spurred him on. She sat motionless,
+with loosely clasped hands; and spots of light settled on her bare
+head, and on the white stuff of her dress. Occasionally, at something
+he said, a smile would raise the corners of her mouth; sometimes, but
+less often, she turned her head with incredulous eyes. But, though she
+was emotionally so irresponsive, Maurice had the feeling that she was
+content, even happy, to sit inactive at his side, and listen to his
+story.
+
+Each of these first wonderful days was of the same pattern. They
+themselves lost count of time, so like was one day to another; and yet
+each that passed was a little eternity in itself. The weather was
+superb, and to them, in their egotism, it came to seem in the order of
+things that they should rise in the morning to cloudless skies and
+golden sunshine; that the cool green seclusion of the woods should be
+theirs, where they were more securely shut off from the world than
+inside the house. Louise lay on the moss, with her arms under her
+head, or sat with her back against a tree-trunk. Maurice was always in
+front of her, so that he could see her face as he talked--this face of
+which he could never see enough.
+
+He was happy, in a dazed way; he could not appraise the extent of his
+happiness all at once. Its chief outward sign was the nervous flood of
+talk that poured from his lips--as though they had been sealed and
+stopped for years. But Louise urged him on; what he had first felt
+dimly, he soon knew for certain: that she was never tired of learning
+how much he loved her, how he had hoped, and ventured, and despaired,
+and how he had been prepared to lose her, up to the very last day. She
+also made him describe to her more than once how he had first seen
+her: his indelible impression of her as she played; her appearance at
+his side in the concert-hall; how he had followed her out and looked
+for her, and had vainly tried to learn who she was.
+
+"I stood quite close to you, you say, Maurice? Perhaps I even looked
+at you. How strange things are!"
+
+Still, the interest she displayed was of a wholly passive kind; she
+took no part herself in this building up of the past. She left
+it to him, just as she left all that called for firmness or decision,
+in this new phase of her life. The chief step taken, it seemed as if
+no further initiative were left in her; she let herself be loved,
+waited for everything to come from him, was without will or wish. He
+had to ask no self-assertion of her now, no impulsive resolutions.
+Over all she did, lay a subtle languor; and her abandon was
+absolute--he heard it in the very way she said his name.
+
+In the first riotous joy of possession, Maurice had been conscious of
+the change in her as of something inexpressibly sweet and tender,
+implying a boundless faith in him. But, before long, it made him
+uneasy. He had imagined several things as likely to happen; had
+imagined her the cooler and wiser of the two, checking him and chiding
+him for his over-devotion; had imagined even moments of self-reproach,
+on her part, when she came to think over what she had done. What he
+had not imagined was the wordless, unthinking fashion in which she
+gave herself into his hands. The very expression of her face altered
+in these days: the somewhat defiant, bitter lines he had so loved in
+it, and behind which she had screened herself, were smoothed out; the
+lips seemed to meet differently, were sweeter, even tremulous; the
+eyes were more veiled, far less sure of themselves. He did not admit
+to himself how difficult she made things for him. Strengthened, from
+the first, by his good resolutions, he was determined not to let
+himself be carried off his feet. But it would have been easier for him
+to stand firm, had she met him in almost any other way than this--even
+with a frank return of feeling, for then they might have spoken
+openly, and have helped each other. As it was, he had no thoughts but
+of her; his watchful tenderness knew no bounds; but the whole
+responsibility was his. It was he who had to maintain the happy mean
+in their relations; he to draw the line beyond which it was better for
+all their after-lives that they should not go. He affirmed to himself
+more than once that he loved her the more for her complete subjection:
+it was in keeping with her openhanded nature which could do nothing by
+halves. Yet, as time passed, he began to suffer under it, to feel her
+absence of will as a disquieting factor--to find anything to which he
+could compare it, he had to hark back to the state she had been in
+when he first offered her aid and comfort. That was the lassitude of
+grief, this of . . . he could not find a word. But it began to tell on
+him, and more than once made him a little sharp with her; for, at
+moments, he would be seized by an overpowering temptation to
+shake her out of her lassitude, to rouse her as he very well knew she
+could be roused. And then, strange desires awoke in him; he did not
+himself know of what he was capable.
+
+One afternoon, they were in the woods as usual. It was very sultry;
+not a leaf stirred. Louise lay with her elbow on the moss-grown roots
+of a tree; her eyes were heavy. Maurice, before her, smoked a
+cigarette, and watched for the least recognition of his presence,
+thinking, meanwhile, that she looked better already for these days
+spent out-of-doors--the tiny lines round her eyes were fast
+disappearing. By degrees, however, he grew restless under her
+protracted silence; there was something ominous about it. He threw his
+cigarette away, and, taking her hand, began to pull apart the long
+fingers with the small, pink nails, or to gather them together, and
+let them drop, one by one, like warm, but lifeless things.
+
+"What ARE you thinking of?" he asked at last, and shut her hand firmly
+within his.
+
+She started. "I? . . . thinking? I don't know. I wasn't thinking at
+all."
+
+"But you were. I saw it in your face. Your thoughts were miles away."
+
+"I don't know, Maurice. I couldn't tell you now." And a moment later,
+she added: "You think one must always be thinking, when one is
+silent."
+
+"Yes, I'm jealous of your thoughts. You tell me nothing of them. But
+now you have come back to me, and it's all right."
+
+He drew her nearer to him by the hand he held, and, putting his arm
+under her neck, bent her head back on the moss. Her stretched throat
+was marked by two encircling lines; he traced them with his finger.
+She lay and smiled at him. But her eyes remained shaded: they were
+meditative, and seemed to be considering him, a little deliberately.
+
+"Tell me, Louise," he said suddenly; "why do you look at me like that?
+It's not the first time--I've seen it before. And then, I can't help
+thinking there's some mistake--that after all you don't really care for
+me. It is so--so critical."
+
+"You are curious to-day, Maurice."
+
+"Yes. There's so much I want to know, and you tell me nothing. It is I
+who talk and talk--till you must be tired of hearing me."
+
+"No, I like to listen best. And I have nothing to say."
+
+"Nothing? Really nothing?"
+
+"Only that I'm glad to be here--that I am happy."
+
+He kissed her on the throat, the eyes and the lips; kissed
+her, until, under his touch, that vague, elusive influence began to
+emanate from her, which, he was aware, might some day overpower him,
+and drag him down. They were quite alone, shut in by high trees; no
+one would find them, or disturb them. And it was just this mysterious
+power in her that his nerves had dreamed of waking: yet now, some
+inexplicable instinct made him hesitate, and forbear. He drew his arm
+from under her head, and rose to his feet, where he stood looking down
+at her. She lay just as he had left her, and he felt unaccountably
+impatient.
+
+"There it is again!" he cried. "You are looking at me just as you did
+before."
+
+Louise passed her hand over her eyes, and sat up. "Why, Maurice, what
+do you mean? It was nothing--only something I was trying to
+understand."
+
+But what it was that she did not understand, he could not get her to
+tell him.
+
+A fortnight passed. One morning, when a soft south breeze was in
+motion, Maurice reminded her with an air of playful severity, that, so
+far, they had not learned to know even their nearer surroundings;
+while of all the romantic explorings in the pretty Muldental, which he
+had had in view for them, not one had been undertaken. Louise was not
+fond of walking in the country; she tired easily, and was always
+content to bask in the sun and be still. But she did not attempt to
+oppose his wish; she put on her hat, and was ready to start.
+
+His love of movement reasserted itself. They went down the
+driving-road, and out upon the long, ribbon-like roads that zigzagged
+the plains, connecting the dotted villages. These roads were edged
+with fruit-trees--apple and cherry. The apples were still hard, green,
+polished balls, but the berries were at their prime. And everywhere
+men were aloft on ladders, gathering the fruit for market. For the sum
+of ten pfennigs, Maurice could get his hat filled, and, by the
+roadside, they would sit down to make a second breakfast off black,
+luscious cherries, which stained the lips a bluish purple. When it
+grew too hot for the open roads, they descended the steep, wooded back
+of the bill, to the romantic little town of Wechselburg at its base.
+Here, a massive bridge of reddish-yellow stone spanned the winding,
+slate-grey Mulde; a sombre, many-windowed castle of the same stone as
+the bridge looked out over a wall of magnificent chestnuts.
+
+On returning from these, and various other excursions, they
+were pleasantly tired and hungry. After supper, they sat upstairs by
+the window in her room, Louise in the big chair, Maurice at her feet,
+and there watched the darkness come down, over the tops of the trees.
+
+Somewhat later in the month, the fancy took her to go to a place
+called Amerika. Maurice consulted the landlord about the distance.
+Their original plan of taking the train a part of the way was,
+however, abandoned when the morning came; for it was an uncommonly
+lovely day, and a fresh breeze was blowing. So, having scrambled down
+to Wechselburg again, they struck out on the flat, and began their
+walk. The whole day lay before them; they were bound to no fixed
+hours; and, throughout the morning, they made frequent halts, to
+gather the wild raspberries that grew by the roadside. Having passed
+under a great railway viaduct, which dominated the landscape, they
+stopped at a village inn, to rest and drink coffee. About two o'clock,
+they came to Rochsburg, and finally arrived, towards the middle of the
+afternoon, at the picturesque restaurant that bore the name, of
+Amerika. Here they dined. Afterwards, they returned to Rochsburg, but
+much less buoyantly--for Louise was growing footsore--paid a
+bridge-toll, were shown through the castle, and, at sunset, found
+themselves on the little railway-station, waiting for an overdue
+train. The restaurant in which they sat, was a kind of shed, roofed by
+a covering of Virginia creeper; the station stood on an eminence; the
+plains stretched before them, as far as they could see; the evening
+sky was an unbroken sheet of red and gold.
+
+The half-hour's journey over--it was made in a narrow wooden
+compartment, crowded with peasants returning from a market--they left
+the train, and began to climb the hill. But, by now, Louise was at the
+end of her strength, and Maurice began to fear that he would never get
+her home; she could with difficulty drag one foot after the other, and
+had to rest every few minutes, so that it was nearly ten o'clock
+before they entered the house. In her room, he knelt before her and
+took off her boots; Amalie carried her supper up on a tray. She hardly
+touched it: her eyes were closing with fatigue, and she was asleep as
+soon as her head touched the pillow.
+
+Next day she did not waken till nearly noon, and she remained in bed
+till after dinner. For the rest of the day, she sat in the armchair.
+Maurice wished to read to her, but she preferred quiet--did not even
+want to be talked to. The weather was on her nerves, she
+said--for it had grown very sultry, and the sky was overcast. The
+landlord prophesied a thunderstorm. In the evening, however, as it was
+still dry, and he had been in the house all day, Maurice went out for
+a solitary walk.
+
+He swung down the road at a pace he could only make when he was alone.
+It had looked threatening when he left the house, but, as he went, the
+clouds piled themselves up with inconceivable rapidity, and before he
+was three miles out on the plain, the storm broke, with a sudden fury
+from which there was no escape. He took to his heels, and ran to the
+next village, some quarter of a mile in front of him. There, in the
+smoky room of a tiny inn, together with a handful of country-people,
+he was held a prisoner for over two hours; the rain pelted, and the
+thunder cracked immediately overhead. When, drenched to the skin, he
+reached the top of the hill again, it was going on for midnight. He
+had been absent for close on four hours.
+
+The candle in her room was guttering in its socket. By its failing
+light, he saw that she was lying across the bed, still dressed. Over
+her bent Amalie.
+
+He had visions of sudden illness, and brushed the girl aside.
+
+"What is it? What's the matter?"
+
+At his voice, Louise lifted a wild face, stared at him as though she
+did not recognise him, then rose with a cry, and flung herself upon
+him.
+
+"Take care! I'm wet through."
+
+For all answer, she burst out crying, and trembled from head to foot.
+
+"What is it, darling? Were you afraid?"
+
+But she only clung to him and trembled.
+
+Amalie was weeping with equal vehemence; he ordered her out of the
+room. Notwithstanding his dripping clothes, he was forced to support
+Louise. In vain he implored her to speak; it was long before she was
+in a state to reply to his questionings. Outside the storm still
+raged; it was a wild night.
+
+"What was it? Were you afraid? Did you think I was lost?"
+
+"I don't know--Oh, Maurice! You will never leave me, will you?"
+
+She wounded her lips against his shoulder.
+
+"Leave you! What has put such foolish thoughts into your head?"
+
+"I don't know.--But on a night like this, I feel that anything might
+happen."
+
+"And did it really matter so much whether I came back or not?"
+
+He felt her arms tighten round him.
+
+"Did you care as much as that?--Louise!"
+
+"I said: my God!--what if he should never come back! And then, then . . ."
+
+"Then----?"
+
+"And then the noise of the storm . . . and I was so alone . . . and
+all the long, long hours . . . and at every sound I said, there he is
+. . . and it never was you . . . till I knew you were lying somewhere
+. . . dead . . . under a tree."
+
+"You poor little soul!" he began impulsively, then stopped, for he
+felt the sudden thrill that ran through her.
+
+"Say that again, Maurice!--say it again!"
+
+"You poor, little fancy-ridden soul!"
+
+"Oh, if you knew how good it sounds!--if I could make you understand!
+You're the only person who has ever said a thing like that to me--the
+only one who has ever been in the least sorry for me. Promise me
+now--promise again--that you will never leave me.--For you are all I
+have."
+
+"Promise?--again? When you are more to me than my own life?"
+
+"And you will never get tired of me?--never?"
+
+"My own dear wife!"
+
+She strained him to her with a strength for which he would not have
+given her credit. He tried to see her face.
+
+"Do you know what that means?"
+
+"Yes, I know. It means, if you leave me now, I shall die."
+
+By the next morning, all traces of the storm had vanished; the sun
+shone; the slanting roads were hard and dry again. Other storms
+followed--for it was an exceptionally hot summer--and many an evening
+the two were prisoners in her room, listening to the angry roar of the
+trees, which lashed each other with a sound like that of the open sea.
+
+Every Sunday in August, too, brought a motley crowd of guests to the
+inn, and then the whole terrace was set out with little tables. Two
+waiters came to assist Amalie; a band played in an arbour; carts and
+wagonettes were hitched to the front of the house; and the noise and
+merry-making lasted till late in the night. Together they leaned from
+the window of Louise's room, to watch the people; they hardly ventured
+out of doors, for it was unpleasant to see their favourite nooks
+invaded by strangers. Except on Sundays, however, their
+seclusion remained undisturbed; half a dozen visitors were staying in
+the other wing of the building, and of these they sometimes caught a
+glimpse at meals; but that was all: the solitude they desired was
+still theirs.
+
+And so the happy days slid past; August was well advanced, by this
+time, and the tropical heat was at its height. In the beginning, it
+had been Maurice who regretted the rapid flight of the days: now it
+was Louise. Occasionally, a certain shadow settled on her face, and,
+at such moments, he well knew what she was thinking of: for, once, out
+of the very fulness of his content, he had said to her with a lazy
+sigh: "To-day is the first of August," and then, for the first time,
+he had seen this look of intense regret cross her face. She had
+entreated him not to say any more; and, after that, the speed with
+which the month decreased, was not mentioned between them.
+
+But his carelessly dropped words had sown their seed. A couple of
+weeks later, the remembrance of the work he had still to do for
+Schwarz, before the beginning of the new term, broke over him like a
+douche of cold water. It was a resplendent morning; he had been
+leaning out of the window, idly tapping his fingers on the sill.
+Suddenly they seemed to him to have grown stiff, to have lost their
+agility; and by the thoughts that now came, he was so disquieted that
+he shut himself up in his own room.
+
+At his first words to her, Louise, who was still in bed, turned pale.
+"Yes, yes, be quiet!--I know," she said, and buried her face in the
+down pillow.
+
+In this position she remained for some seconds; Maurice stood staring
+out of the window. Then, without raising her face, she held out her
+hand to him.
+
+He took it; but he did not do what she expected he would: sit down on
+the side of the bed, and put his arm round her. He stood holding it,
+absent-mindedly. She stole a glance at him, and turned still paler.
+Then, with a jerk, she released her hand, sat up in bed, and pushed
+her hair from her face.
+
+"Maurice! . . . then if it has to be . . . then to-day . . . please,
+please, to-day! Don't ask me to stay here, and think, and remember,
+that it's all over--that this is the end--that we shall never, never be
+here in this little room again! Oh, I couldn't bear it!--! can't bear
+it, Maurice! Let us go away--please, let us go!"
+
+In vain he urged reason; there was no gainsaying her: she
+brushed aside, without listening to it, his objection that their rooms
+in Leipzig would not be ready for them. Throwing back the bedclothes,
+she got up at once and dressed herself, with cold fingers, then flung
+herself upon the packing, helped and hindered by Amalie, who wept
+beside her. The hour that followed was like a bad dream. Finally,
+however, the luggage was carried downstairs, the bill paid, and the
+circumstantial good-byes were said: they set off, at full speed, down
+the woodpath to the station, to catch the midday train. Louise was
+white with exhaustion: her breath came sobbingly. In a firstclass
+carriage, he made her lie down on the seat. With her hand in his, he
+said what he could to comfort her; for her face was tragic.
+
+"We will come again, darling. It is only AUF WIEDERSEHEN, remember!"
+
+But she shook her head.
+
+"We shall never be here again."
+
+Leipzig, at three o'clock on an August afternoon, lay baking in the
+sun. He put her in a covered droschke, himself carrying the bags, for
+he could not find a porter.
+
+"At seven, then! Try to sleep. You are so pale."
+
+"Good-bye--good-bye!"
+
+His hand rested on the door of the droschke. She laid hers on it, and
+clung to it as though she would never, let it go.
+
+
+
+
+
+Part III.
+
+
+
+. . . dove il Sol tace.
+
+DANTE
+
+
+
+I.
+
+
+
+Frau Krause was ill pleased at his unlooked-for reappearance, and did not
+scruple to say so. From the condition of disorder in which he found his
+room, Maurice judged that it had been occupied, during his absence, by the
+entire family. Having been caught napping, Frau Krause carried the matter
+off with a high hand: she gave him to understand that his behaviour in
+descending upon her thus, was not that of a decent lodger. Maurice never
+parleyed with her; ascertaining by a glance that his books and music had
+been left untouched, he made his escape from the pails of water that were
+straightway brought into evidence, as well as from her irate assurances
+that the room would be ready for him in a quarter of an hour.
+
+He went into the town, and did various small errands necessary to the
+taking up anew of the old life. After he had had dinner, and had looked
+through the newspapers, the temptation was strong to go to Louise, and
+spend the hot afternoon hours at her side. But he resisted; for that would
+have been a poor beginning to the sensible way of life they would have to
+follow, from now on. Besides, with the certainty of seeing her again in a
+very short time, it was not impossible to be patient. No more uncertainty,
+no more doubts and fears!--the day for these was over.--And so, having
+satisfied himself that his room was still uninhabitable, he strolled to
+the Conservatorium, to see what notices had remained affixed to the
+notice-board. As he was leaving again, he met the janitor, and from him
+learned that his name was down for the first ADBENDUNTERHALTUNG of the
+coming month.
+
+In the shadeless street, he paused irresolute. The heat of the slumbrous
+afternoon was oppressive; all animation seemed suspended. The trees in
+streets and gardens drooped, brownishyellow, and heavy with dust. The sun
+met the eyes blindingly, and was reflected from every house-wall. Maurice
+went for a walk in the woods. In his pocket he had a letter, still unread,
+which he had found waiting for him that day. It was from his
+mother, and his eyes slid carelessly over the pages. There were the usual
+reproaches for his prolonged silences, the never-failing reminders that
+his time in Leipzig would come to an end the following spring, as well as
+several details of domestic interest. Then, however, followed a piece of
+news, which rallied his attention.
+
+
+
+YOU WILL DOUBTLESS BE INTERESTED TO HEAR, she wrote, THAT YOUR FRIEND THE
+OLD MUSIC TEACHER IN NORWICH DIED SUDDENLY LAST WEEK. HIS PUPILS HAD
+FALLEN OFF GREATLY OF LATE AND WHEN EVERYTHING HAD BEEN SOLD THERE WAS
+SCARCELY ENOUGH TO COVER THE FUNERAL EXPENSES. YOUR FATHER THINKS THAT
+THOUGH A YOUNG PERSON FROM LONDON OF THE NAME OF SMITH OR SMYTHE HAS
+LATELY SET UP THERE AND ATTRACTED MANY OF THE BEST PAYING FAMILIES YET THE
+OLD CONNECTION MIGHT BE WORKED UP AGAIN AND IT WOULD BE WORTH YOUR WHILE
+TRYING TO DO IT. AT FIRST YOU COULD LIVE AT HOME AND GO OVER ONCE OR TWICE
+A WEEK. YOUR FATHER HAS BEEN MAKING INQUIRIES ABOUT A SUITABLE ROOM.
+
+
+
+This news called up a feeling of repugnance in Maurice: it came like a
+message from another world; the very baldness of its expression seemed to
+throw him back, at one stroke, into the hated atmosphere of his home. He
+folded the letter and replaced it in the envelope, with such a conscious
+hostility to all that his blood-relations did or said, as he had not felt
+since the day when, in their midst, he had struggled to assert his
+independence. How little they understood him! It was like them, in their
+unimaginative dulness, to suppose that they could arrange his life for
+him--draw up the lines on which it was to be spent. He saw himself bound
+down hand and foot again, to the occupation he so hated; saw himself
+striving to oust the young person from London, just as no doubt his old
+friend had striven; saw himself becoming proficient in all the mean, petty
+tricks of rival teachers, and either vanquishing or being vanquished, in
+the effort to earn a living.
+
+However he viewed them, his prospects had nothing hopeful in them. They
+were vague, too, to the last degree. On one question alone was his mind
+made up: he meant to marry Louise at the earliest possible date. Whatever
+else happened, this should come to pass. For the first time, he thought
+with something akin to remorse, over the turn affairs had taken. He had
+been blind and dizzy with his infatuation, sick for her to his very
+marrow--he could only look back on those feverish weeks in June as
+on the horrors of a nightmare--and he would not have missed a single hour
+of the happy days at Rochlitz. But, none the less, he had always felt a
+peculiar aversion to people who allowed their feelings to get the better
+of them. Now, he himself was one of them. If only she were his wife! Had
+she consented, he would have married her there and then, without
+reflection. They might have lived on, just as they were going to do, and
+have kept their marriage a secret, reserving to themselves the pleasure of
+knowing that their intimacy was legal. At it was, he must console himself
+with the thought that, married or not, they were indissolubly bound: he
+knew now better than before, that no other woman would ever exist for him;
+and surely, in the case of an all-absorbing passion such as this, the
+overstepping of conventional boundaries would not be counted too heavily
+against them: laws and conventions existed only for the weak and
+vacillating loves of the rest of the world.
+
+Then, however, and almost against his will, the other side of the question
+forced itself upon his notice. As the marriage had not already taken
+place, as, indeed, Louise chose to evade the subject when he brought it
+up, he could not but admit to it would be pleasanter for him if it were
+now postponed until he was independent of home-support. His family would,
+he knew, bitterly resent his taking the step; and in regard to them, he
+was proud. Where Louise was concerned, of course, it was a different
+matter: there, no misplaced pride should stand in the way. She had ample
+means for her own needs; it was merely a question of earning enough to
+keep himself. The sole advantage of the present state of affairs was, that
+it might still be concealed; whereas even a secret marriage implied a
+possible publicity; it might somehow leak out, and, in the event of this,
+he knew that his parents would immediately cut off supplies. If once he
+were independent of them, he could do as he liked. He set his teeth at the
+thought of it. To no small extent, his way was mapped out for him.
+Marrying Louise meant giving up all idea of returning home. He understood
+now, more clearly than before, how unfitted she was for the narrow life
+that would there be expected of her. And even--if he had longed for
+approval and consent, he would never have had courage to ask her to face
+the petty, ignoble details of conventional propriety, which such a
+sanction implied. No, if he wished to ensure her happiness, he must secure
+to her the freer atmosphere in which she was accustomed to live.
+He must burn his ships behind him, and the most satisfactory thing was,
+that he was able to do it without a pang.
+
+He racked his brains as to the means of making a livelihood. There was
+nothing he would not do. He was more ready to work than ever a labourer
+with a starving family at his back. But, having let every possibility pass
+before his mind's eye, he was forced to the conclusion that the only
+occupation open to him was the one he had come to Leipzig to escape. He
+was fit for nothing but to be a teacher. All he could do at the piano,
+hundreds of others could do better; his talents as a conductor were, he
+had learned, of the meagrest; the pleasing little songs he might compose,
+of small value. Yet, if this were the price he had to pay for making her
+his wife, he was content to pay it: no sacrifice was too great for him.
+And then, to be a teacher here meant something different from what it
+meant in England. Here, it was possible to retain your self-respect--the
+caste of the class was another to begin with--and also to remain in touch
+with all that was best worth knowing. As a foreigner, he might add to his
+earnings by teaching English; but piano-lessons would of necessity be his
+chief source of income. They were plentiful enough: Avery Hill supported
+herself entirely by them, and Furst kept his family. Of course, though,
+this was due to Schwarz: his influence was a key to all doors. Both of
+these were favourite pupils; while a melancholy fact, which had to be
+faced, was, that he did not stand well with Schwarz. Somehow, they had
+never taken to each other: he, perhaps, had had too open an eye for the
+master's foibles, and Schwarz had no doubt been aware, from the first, of
+his pupil's fatally divided interests. The crown had probably been set by
+his ill-considered flight in July. If he wished ultimately to achieve
+something, the interest he had forfeited must be regained, cost what it
+might. He would work, in these coming months, as never before. Could he
+make a brilliant, even a wholly respectable job of the trio he was to
+play, it would go far towards reinstating him in Schwarz's good graces:
+and he might then venture to approach the master with a request for
+assistance. This was the first piece of work that lay to his hand, and he
+would do it with all his might. After that, the rest.
+
+There was no time to lose. A mild despair overcame him at the thought of
+the intricate sonata, the long, mazy concerto by Hummel, which had formed
+his holiday task. In exactly a fortnight from this date, the vacation came
+to an end, and, as yet, he did not know a note of them. Through
+the motionless heat of the paved streets, he went home, and turning Frau
+Krause out of his room, sat down at the piano to scales and exercises. Not
+until he felt suppleness and strength coming back to his fingers, did he
+allow his thoughts to wander. Then, however, they leapt to Louise; after
+this break in his consciousness, he seemed to have been absent from her
+for days.
+
+The sun was full on her windows; curtains and blinds were drawn against
+it. While he hesitated, still dazzled by the glare of the streets, she
+sprang to meet him, laying both hands on his shoulders.
+
+"At last!"
+
+He blinked, and laughed, and held her at arm's length. "At last?--Why,
+what does that mean?"
+
+"That I have been waiting for you, and hoping you would come--for hours."
+
+"But, dearest, I'm too early as it is. It's not six o'clock."
+
+"Yes, I know. But I was so sure you would come sooner,--that you wouldn't
+be able to stay away! Oh, the afternoon has been endless; and the heat was
+suffocating. I couldn't dress, and I haven't unpacked a thing."
+
+Now he saw that she was in her dressing-gown, and that the bags and
+valises stood in a corner, just as they had been carried up from the
+droschke.
+
+With her hands still on his shoulders, she put back her head. A thin line
+of white appeared between her lips, and, under their drooped lids, her
+eyes shone with a moist brilliance. She looked at him eagerly for some
+seconds, and it seemed to hirn wistfully, too. Then, in an inexplicable
+change of mood, she let her arms fall, and turned away. She had grown pale
+and despondent. There was only one thing for him to do: to put his arms
+round her and draw her to his knee. Holding her thus, he whispered in her
+ear words such as she loved to hear. He had grown skilled in repeating
+them. Under the even murmur of his voice, her face grew tranquil; she sank
+little by little into a state of well-being; her one fear was that he
+would cease speaking.
+
+On the writing-table, a gold-faced clock ticked solemnly: its minutes went
+by unheeded. Maurice was the first to feel the disillusioning shudder of
+reality; simultaneously, the remembrance returned to him of what he had
+come intending to tell her.--He loosened her arms.
+
+"Louise!" he said in an altered voice. "Look up, dear!--and let me
+see your eyes. You won't believe me, I think, but I came this evening
+meaning to talk very sensibly--nothing but common sense, in fact. There's
+a great deal I want to say to you. Come, let us be two rational
+people--yes? As a beginning, I'll draw up the blinds. The sun's behind the
+houses now,
+and the room is so close."
+
+Louise shrank from the violent, dusty light; and her face, a moment back
+rapturously content, took on at once a look of apprehension.
+
+"Not to-night, Maurice--not to-night! It's too . . . too hot for common
+sense to-night."
+
+He laughed and took her hand. "Be my own brave girl, and help me. You have
+only to look at me, as you know, to make me forget everything. And that
+mustn't be. We have got to be serious for a little--have you ever thought,
+Louise, how seldom you and I have talked seriously together? There was
+never time, was there? . . . in all these weeks. There was only time to
+tell you how much you are to me.--But now--well, so many things were
+running in my head this afternoon. This letter from home was the beginning
+of them. Read it--this page here, at least--and then I'll tell you what
+I've been thinking."
+
+He put the letter into her hand, and she ran her eyes over the page. But
+she laid it down without comment.
+
+A fear crossed his mind. "Don't misunderstand it," he said hastily. "You
+know that point was settled months ago. There's no question of going back
+for me now--and I'm glad of it. I never want to see England again. But it
+gave me a lot to think about--how the staying here was to be managed, and
+things like that."
+
+He was conscious of becoming somewhat wordy; and as she did not respond,
+his uneasiness grew. In his anxiety to make her think as he did, he
+clasped his hand over hers.
+
+"I needn't say again, need I, darling, what the past weeks have meant to
+me? I'm so grateful to you for them that I could only prove it with years
+of my life. But--and don't misunderstand this either, or think I don't
+love you more now than ever before--you know I do. But, look at it as we
+will, those weeks were play--glorious play, worth half one's existence,
+but still only play. They couldn't last for ever. Now we've come back, and
+we have to face work and the workaday world--you see what I mean, I'm
+sure?"
+
+There was a note of entreaty in his voice. As she still kept
+silence, he gave his whole strength to demolishing the mute opposition he
+felt in her.
+
+"From now on, dear, we must make up our minds to be two very sensible
+people. I've an enormous amount of work to get through, in the coming
+months. And at Easter, I shall probably be thrown on my own resources. But
+I'll fight my way somehow--here, beside you. We'll live our own life. Just
+you and I.--Let me tell you what I propose to do,"--and here, he laid
+before her, in their entirety, his plans for winning over Schwarz, for
+gaining a foothold, and for making a modest income. "A good PRUFUNG," he
+concluded, "and I'll be able to get anything I want out of him. In the
+meantime, I've got to make a decent job next month of the trio--I'm pretty
+well in his black books, I can guess, for going off as I did in July.
+I must work as I've never done before. Each single day must be mapped out,
+and nothing allowed to interfere. It's an undertaking; but you'll help me,
+won't you, darling?--as only you can. I've let things go, far too much--I
+see it now. But it was impossible--frankly, I didn't care. I only wanted
+you. Now, it will . . . it must be different. The unrest is gone; you
+belong to me, and I to you. We are sure of each other."
+
+"Oh, it's stifling! There's no air in the room."
+
+She rose from his side, and went to the open window, where she stood with
+her back to him. As a result of his words, her life seemed suddenly to
+stretch before her, just as dry, and dusty, and commonplace, as the street
+she looked down on.
+
+"I want to show you, too," he continued behind her, "that you haven't
+utterly thrown yourself away. I know how little I can do; but honest
+endeavour must count for something. I ask nothing better than to work for
+you, Louise--and you know it."
+
+A wave of warm air came in at the window; the dying afternoon turned to
+twilight.
+
+"Yes . . . and I? What am I to do? What room is there for me in your plans
+of work?"
+
+He glanced sharply at her; but she had not moved.
+
+"Louise, dearest! I know that what I say must sound selfish and
+inconsiderate. And yet I can't help it. I'm forced to ask you to
+wait . . . merely to wait. And for what? Good Heavens, no one realises it
+as I do! I have nothing to offer you, in return--but my love for you. But
+if you knew how strong that is--if you knew how happy I am resolved to
+make you! Have a little patience, darling! It will all come right in the
+end--if only you love me! And you do, don't you? Say once more you do."
+
+She turned so swiftly that the tail of her dressing-gown twisted, and fell
+over on itself.
+
+"Can you still ask that? Have you not had proof enough? Is there an inch
+of you that doesn't believe in my love for you? Oh, Maurice! . . . It's
+only that I'm tired to-night--and restless. I was so wretched at having to
+come back. And the heat has got on my nerves. I wish a great storm would
+come, and shake the house, and make the branches of the trees beat against
+the panes--do you remember? And we were so safe. The worse the storm was,
+the closer you held me." She sat down beside him, on the arm of the sofa.
+"Such a night seemed doubly wild after the long, still days that had gone
+before it--do you remember?--Oh, why had it all to end? Weren't we happy
+enough? Or did we ask too much? Why must time go just the same over
+happiness and unhappiness alike?" She got up again, and strayed back to
+the window. "Days like those will never--CAN never--come again. Even as it
+is, coming back has made a difference. Could you even yesterday have
+spoken as you do to-day? Was there any room then for common sense between
+us? No, we were too happy. It was enough to know we were alive."
+
+"Be reasonable, darling. I am as sorry as you that these weeks are over;
+but, glorious as they were, they couldn't last for ever. And trust me; we
+shall know other days just as happy.--But if, because I talk like this,
+you imagine I don't love you a hundred times better even than
+yesterday--but you don't mean that! You know me better, my Rachel!"
+
+"Yes. Perhaps you're right--you ARE right. But I am right, too."
+
+She came back, and sat down on the sofa again, and propped her chin on her
+hand.
+
+"You're tired to-night, dear--that's all. To-morrow things will look
+different, and you'll see the truth of what I say. At night, things get
+distorted----"
+
+"No, no, one only really sees in the dark," she interrupted him.
+
+--"but in the morning, one can smile at one's fears. Trust me, Louise, and
+believe in me. All our future happiness depends on how we act just now."
+
+"Our future happiness . . . yes," she said slowly. "But what of
+the present?"
+
+"Isn't it worth while sacrificing a brief present to a long future?"
+
+She threw him a quick glance. "You talk like an orthodox Christian,
+Maurice," she said, and added: "The present is here: it belongs to us. The
+future is so unclear--who knows what it will bring us!"
+
+"And isn't it just for that very reason that I speak as I do? If
+everything lay clear and straight before us, do you think I should bother
+about anything but you? It's the uncertainty of the whole thing that
+troubles me. But however vague it is, I can tell you one thing that will
+happen. And you know, dearest, what that is--the only ambition I have
+left: to make you my wife at the earliest possible moment."
+
+She gazed at him meditatively.
+
+"Why wouldn't you let me have my way at first?" he cried. "Why were you
+against it? We could have kept it a secret: no one need have known a thing
+about it. And I should never have asked you to go to England, or to see my
+people. Call it narrow, if you must, I can't help it; it's the only thing
+for us to do. Why won't you agree? Tell me what you have against it.
+Listen!" He knelt down and put his arms round her. "We have still a
+fortnight--that's time enough. Let us go to England to-morrow, and be
+married without a word to anyone--in the first registrar's office we find.
+Only marry me!"
+
+"Would it make you love me more?"
+
+She looked at him intently, turning the whole weight of her dark glance
+upon him.
+
+"You!" he said. "You to ask such a thing! You with these eyes . . . and
+this hair! And these hands!--I love every line of them . . . You can't
+understand, can you, you bundle of emotions, that I should care for you as
+I do, and yet be able to talk soberly? It seems to you a man's way of
+loving--and poor at that. But if you imagine I don't love you all the more
+for what you have sacrificed for me--no, you didn't say that, I know, but
+it comes to the same thing in the end."
+
+She made no answer; and a feeling of discouragement began to creep over
+him. He rose to his feet.
+
+"A man who loves a woman as I love you," he said almost violently, "has
+only one wish--can have only one. I shall never rest or be thoroughly
+happy till you consent to marry me. That you can refuse as you do, seems
+to prove that you don't care for me enough."
+
+She put her arms round his neck: her wide sleeves fell back, leaving her
+arms bear. "Maurice," she said gently, "why must you worry yourself?--You
+know if you are set on our marrying, I'll give way. But I don't want to be
+married--not yet. There's plenty of time. It's only a small matter now; it
+doesn't seem as if it could make any difference; and yet it might. The
+sense of being bound; of some one--no, of the law permitting us to love
+each other . . . no, Maurice, not yet.--Listen! I'm older and wiser than
+you, and I know. Happiness like this doesn't come every day. Instead of
+brooding and hesitating, one must seize it while it's there: it's such a
+slippery thing; it's gone before you know it. You can't bind it fast, and
+say it shall last so and so long. We have it now; don't let us talk and
+reason about it.--Oh, to-day, I'm nervous! Let me make a confession. As a
+child I had presentiments--things I foresaw came true, and on the morning
+of a misfortune, I've felt such a load on my chest that I could hardly
+breathe. Well, to-day, when I came into this room again, it seemed as if
+two black wings shut out the sunlight; and I was afraid. The past weeks
+have been so unreasonably happy--such happiness mustn't be let go. Help me
+to hold it; I can't do it alone. Don't try to make it fast to the future;
+while you do that, it's going--do you think one can draw out happiness
+like a thread? Oh, help me!--don't let any thing take it from us. And I
+will give up everything to it. Only you must always be beside me, Maurice,
+and love me. Don't let anything come between us! For my sake, for
+my sake!"
+
+In the face of this outpouring, his own opinions seemed of little matter;
+his one concern was to ward off the tears that he saw were imminent. He
+held her to him, stroked her hair, and murmured words of comfort. But when
+she raised her head again, her eyelids were reddened, as though she had
+actually wept.
+
+"Now I know you. Now you are my own again," she whispered. "How could I
+know you as you were then? I'd never seen you like that--seen you cold and
+sensible."
+
+He looked down at her without speaking, in a preoccupied way.
+
+She touched his face with her finger. "Here are lines I don't know--I see
+them now for the first time--lines of reason, of common sense, of all that
+is strange to me in you."
+
+He caught her hand, continuing to gaze at her with the same
+expression of aloofness. "I need them for us both. You have none."
+
+Her lips parted in a smile. Then this faded, and she looked at him with
+eyes that reminded him of an untamed animal, or of a startled child.
+
+"Mine . . . still mine!" she said passionately.--And in the hours it took
+to reassure her, his primly reasoned conclusions were blown like chaff
+before the wind.
+
+
+
+
+II.
+
+
+
+The next fortnight flew by; and familiar faces began to appear again. The
+steps and inner vestibule of the Conservatorium became a lounge for seeing
+acquaintances. In the cafe at the corner, the click of billiard balls was
+to be heard from early morning on.
+
+Maurice looked forward to meeting his friends, with some embarrassment. It
+was unlikely that the events of the summer had remained a secret; for
+that, there was a clique in the place over-much on the alert for scandal,
+to which unfortunately the name of Louise Dufrayer lent itself only too
+readily. He could not decide what position to take up, with regard to
+their present intimacy; to flaunt it openly, to be pointed at as her
+lover, would for her sake be repugnant to him. It made him reject an idea
+he had revolved, of begging her to let him announce their engagement: for,
+in the present state of things, the word "BRAUTIGAM" had an evil sound.
+Eventually, he came to the conclusion that they must be more cautious than
+they had ever been, and give absolutely no food for talk.
+
+One day, in the GRASSISTRASSE, he came upon a little knot of men he knew.
+And it was just as he supposed; the secret was a secret no longer. He saw
+it at once in their treatment of him. There was a spice of deference in
+their manner: and their looks expressed curiosity, envious surprise, even
+a kind of brotherly welcome. After this, Maurice changed his mind. the
+only course open to him was to brazen things out. He would not wait for
+his friends to show him what they thought; he would be beforehand with
+them.
+
+A chance soon offered ofputting his intentions into practice. On entering
+Seyffert's one afternoon, he espied Dove, who had just returned. Dove sat
+alone at a small table, reading the TAGEBLATT; before him stood a cup of
+cocoa. When he saw Maurice, he raised the newspaper a trifle higher, so
+that it covered the level of his eyes. But Maurice went across the room,
+and touched him on the shoulder. Dove dropped his shield, and sprang up,
+exclaiming with surprise. Maurice sat down beside him, and, by dint of a
+little wheedling, put Dove at his ease. The latter was bubbling over with
+new experiences and future prospects. It seemed that in Peterborough,
+Dove's native town, the art of music was taking strides that were
+nothing short of marvellous. To hear Dove talk, the palm for progress must
+be awarded to Peterborough, over and above all the other towns of Great
+Britain; and he was agog with plans and expectations. During the holidays,
+he had held conversations with several local magnates, all of whom
+expressed themselves in favour of his scheme for founding a school of
+music, and promised him their support. Dove had returned to Leipzig in a
+brand-new outfit, and a hard hat; his studies were coming to an end in
+spring, and he began to think already of casting the skin of Bohemianism.
+
+Maurice listened to him leniently--even drew Dove out a little. But he
+kept his eye on the clock. In less than half an hour, he would be with
+Louise; from some corner of the semidarkened room, she would spring
+towards him, and throw herself into his arms.
+
+The majority of the classes were not yet assembled, when one day, a rumour
+rose, and spreading, ran from mouth to mouth. Those who heard it were at
+first incredulous; as, however, it continued to make headway, they
+whistled to themselves, or vented their surprise in a breathless "ACH!"
+Later in the day, they stood about in groups, and excitedly discussed the
+subject. Ten of Schwarz's most advanced pupils had left the master for the
+outsider named Schrievers. At the head of the list stood Furst.
+
+The Conservatorium, royally endowed and municipally controlled, held to
+its time-honoured customs with tenacity. The older masters laboured to
+uphold tradition, and such younger ones as were progressively inclined,
+had not the influence to effect a change. Unattached teachers were
+regarded with suspicion--unless they happened to be former pupils of the
+institution, in which case it was assumed that they carried out its
+precepts. There had naturally always been plenty of others as well; but
+these were comparatively powerless: they could give their pupils neither
+imposing certificates, nor gala public performances, such as the
+PRUFUNGEN, and, for the most part, they flourished unknown. This was
+previous to the arrival of Schrievers. It was now about a year and a half
+ago that his settling in Leipzig had caused a flutter in musical circles.
+Then, however, he had been forgotten, or at least remembered only at
+intervals, when it was heard that he had caught another fish, in the shape
+of a renegade pupil.
+
+Schrievers was a burly, red-bearded man, still well under middle
+age, and possessed of plenty of push and self-confidence. It soon
+transpired that he was an out-and-out champion of modern ideas in music;
+for, from the first, he was connected with a leading paper, in which he
+made his views known. He had a trenchant pen, and, with unfailing
+consistency, criticised the musical conditions of Leipzig adversely. The
+progressive LISZTVEREIN, of which he was soon the leading spirit, alone
+escaped; the opera, bereft of Nikisch, and the Gewandhaus, under its
+gentle and aged conductor, were treated by him with biting sarcasm. But
+his chief butt was the Conservatorium, and its ancient methods. He
+asserted that not a jot of the curriculum had been altered for fifty
+years; and its speedy downfall was the sole result to be expected and
+hoped for. The fact that, at this time, some seven hundred odd students
+were enrolled on its books went far to discredit this pious hope; but,
+nevertheless, Schrievers harped always on the same string; and just as
+perpetual dropping wears a stone, so his continued diatribes ate into
+emotional and sensitive natures. He began to attract a following, and,
+simultaneously, to make himself known as a pupil of Liszt. This brought
+him a fresh batch of enemies. Even a small German town is seldom without
+its Liszt-pupil, and in Leipzig several were settled, none of whom had
+ever heard of Martin Schrievers. They refused to admit him to their
+jealous clique. In their opinion, he belonged to that goodly class of
+persons, who, having by hook or by crook, contrived to spend an hour in
+the Abbe of Weimar's presence, afterwards abused the sacred narre of
+pupil. He was hated by these chosen few with more vigour than by the
+conservative pedagogues, who, naturally enough, saw the ruin of art in all
+he did.
+
+Various reasons were given for his success, no one being willing to
+believe that it was due to his merits as a teacher. Some said that he
+recognised in a twinkling the weak points of the individual with whom he
+had to deal. He humoured foibles, was tender of self-conceit. He also
+flattered his pupils by giving them music that was beyond their powers of
+execution: those, for instance, who had worked long and with feeble
+interest at Czerny, Dussek and Hummel, were dazzled at the prospect of
+Liszt and Chopin, which was suddenly thrust beneath their, eyes. Other
+ill-wishers believed that his chief bait was the musical SOIREES he gave
+when a famous pianist came to the town. By virtue of his journalistic
+position, he was personally acquainted with all the great; they
+visited at his house, and his pupils had thus not merely the opportunity
+of getting to know artists like Rubinstein and d'Albert, and of hearing
+them play in private, but, what was more to the point, of themselves
+taking part in the performance, and perhaps receiving a golden word from
+the great man's lips. And though no huge parchment scroll was forthcoming
+on the termination of one's studies, yet Schrievers held the weapon of
+criticism in his hand, and, at the first tentative public appearance of
+the young performer, could make or mar as he chose. He lived on good
+terms, too, with his fellow-critics, so that wire-pulling was
+easy--incomparably more so than were the embarrassing visits, open to any
+snub, which were common if one was only a pupil of the Conservatorium, and
+which, in the case of the ladypupils, included costly bouquets of flowers.
+
+Among those who had deserted Schwarz were some, like Miss Martin,
+malcontents, who had flitted from place to place, and from master to
+master, in the perpetual hope of discovering that ideal teacher who would
+estimate them at their true worth. These were radiantly satisfied with the
+change. Miss Martin bore, wherever she went, an octave-study by Liszt, and
+flaunted it in the faces of her friends: and Miss Moses, who had been
+under Bendel, could not say two sentences without throwing in: "That
+Chopin ETUDE I studied last," or: "The Polonaise in E flat I'm working
+at;" for, beforehand, she too had been a humble performer of Haydn and
+Bertini. James had the prospect of playing a Concerto by Liszt--forbidden
+fruit to the pupils of the Conservatorium--in one of the concerts of the
+LISZTVEREIN, and was sure, in advance, of being favourably criticised.
+Boehmer wished to specialise in Bach, and if Schwarz set himself against
+one thing more than another, it was a one-sided musical taste: within the
+bounds of classicism, the master demanded catholic sympathies; those
+students who had romantic leanings towards Chopin and Schumann, were
+castigated with severely classical compositions; and, vice versa, he had
+insisted on Boehmer widening his horizon on Schubert and Mendelssohn. And
+there were also several others, who, having been dragged forward by
+Schwarz, from inefficient beginnings, now left him, to write their
+acquired skill to Schrievers' credit. Furst was the greatest riddle of
+all. It was he who, on subsequent concert-tours, was to have extended the
+fame of the Conservatorium; he was the show pupil of the institution, and,
+in the coming PRUFUNGEN, was to have distinguished himself, and
+his master with him, by playing Beethoven's Concerto in E flat.
+
+Other teachers besides Schwarz had been forsaken for the new-comer, but in
+no case by so large a body of students. They bore their losses
+philosophically. Bendel, one of the few masters who spoke English--it was
+against the principles of Schwarz to know a word of it: foreign pupils had
+to learn his language, not he theirs--Bendel, frequented chiefly by the
+American colony, was of a phlegmatic temperament and not easily roused. He
+alluded to the backsliders with an ironical jest, preferring to believe
+that they were the losers. But Schwarz was of a diametrically opposite
+nature. In the short, thickset man, with the all-seeing eyes, and the head
+of carefully waved hair, just streaked with grey--a head at once too
+massive and too fine for the clumsy body--in Schwarz, dwelt a fierce and
+indomitable pride. His was one of those moody, sensitive natures, quick to
+resent, always on the look-out for offence. He was ever ready to translate
+things into the personal; for though he had an overweening sense of his
+own importance, there was yet room in him for a secret doubt; and with
+this doubt, he, as it were, put other people to the test. The loss of the
+flower of his flock made him doubly unsure; he felt himself a marked man,
+for Bendel and other enemies to jeer at. Aloud, he spoke long and
+vehemently, as if mere noisy words would heal the wound. And the pupils
+who had remained faithful to him, gathered all the more closely round him,
+and burned as he did. If wishes could have injured or killed, Furst's
+career would then and there have come to an end: his ingratitude, his
+treachery, and his lack of moral fibre, were denounced on every hand.
+
+One day, at this time, Maurice entered Schwarz's room. The class was
+assembled; but, although the hour was well advanced, no one had begun to
+play. The master stood at the window, with his back to the grass-grown
+courtyard. He was haranguing, in a strident voice, the three pupils who
+sat along the wall. From what followed, Maurice gathered that that very
+afternoon Schwarz had been informed of the loss of four more pupils; and
+though, as every one knew, he had hitherto not set much store by any of
+them, he now discovered latent talent in all four, and was, at the same
+time, exasperated that such nonentities should presume to judge him.
+
+To infer from the appearance of those present, the storm had raged fora
+considerable period. And still it went on. After the expiry of a
+futher interval, Krafft who, throughout, had sat shading his eyes with his
+hand, woke as though from sleep, yawned heartily, stretched himself and,
+taking out his watch, studied it with profound attention. For the first
+time, Schwarz was checked in his flow of words; he coughed, fumbled for an
+epithet, then stopped, and, to the general surprise, motioned Krafft to
+the piano.
+
+But Heinrich was in a bad mood. He stifled another yawn before beginning,
+and played in a mechanical way.
+
+Schwarz had often enough made allowance for this pupil's varying moods; he
+was not now in the humour to do so.
+
+"HALT!" he cried before the first page was turned. "What in God's name is
+the meaning of this? Do you come here to read from sight?"
+
+Krafft continued to play as if nothing had been said.
+
+"Do you hear me?" thundered Schwarz.
+
+"It's impossible," said Krafft, and proceeded.
+
+"BARMHERZIGER GOTT!--"The master's short neck reddened, and twisted in its
+collar.
+
+"Give me music I care to play, and I'll show you how it should be done. I
+can make nothing of this," answered Krafft.
+
+Schwarz strode up to the piano, and swept the volume from the rack; it
+fell with a crash on the keys and on Krafft's hands, and effectually
+hindered him from continuing.
+
+What had gone before was as a summer shower to a deluge. With his arms
+stiffly knotted behind his back, Schwarz paced the floor with a tread that
+shook it. His steely blue eyes flashed with passion; the veins stood out
+on his forehead; his large, prominent mouth gaped above his tuft of beard;
+he struck ludicrous attitudes, pouring out, meanwhile, without stint--for
+he had soon passed from Krafft's particular case of insubordination to the
+general one--pouring out the savage anger and deep-felt injury that had
+accumulated in him. Finally, he invited the class to rise and leave him,
+there and then. For what, in God's name, were they waiting? Let them up
+and away, without more ado!
+
+On receiving the volume of Beethoven on his fingers, Krafft straightened
+out the pages, and taking down his hat from its peg, left the room, with
+movements of a calculated coolness. But only a pupil of Bullow's might
+take such a liberty; the rest had to assist quietly at the painful scene.
+Maurice studied his finger nails, and Dove did not once remove his eyes
+from the leg of the piano. They, at least, knew from experience that,
+in time, the storm would pass; also that it sounded worse, than it
+actually was. But a new-comer, a stout Bavarian lad, with hair cut like
+Rubinstein's, who was present at the lesson for the first time, was pale
+and frightened, and sat drinking in every word.
+
+Towards the end of the hour, when quiet was re-established, one's
+inclination was rather to escape from the room and be free, than to sit
+down to play something that demanded coolness and concentration. Dove, who
+was not sensitive to externals, came safely through the ordeal; but
+Maurice made a poor job of the trio in which he had hoped to excel.
+Schwarz did not even offer to turn the pages. This, Beyerlein, the
+new-comer, did, in a nervous desire to ingratiate himself; but he was
+still so flustered that, at a critical moment, he brought the music down
+on the keys. Schwarz said nothing; wrapped in the moody silence that
+invariably followed his outbursts, he hardly seemed aware that anyone was
+playing. After two movements of the trio, he signed to Beyerlein to take
+his turn, and proffered no comment on Maurice's work. Maurice would have
+hurried away, without a further word, had he not already learned the early
+date of his performance. He knew, too, that if the practical side of the
+affair--rehearsals with string players, and so on--was not satisfactorily
+arranged, he would be blamed for it. So he reminded Schwarz of the matter.
+From what ensued, it was plain that the master still bore him a grudge for
+absconding in summer. Schwarz glared coldly at him, as if unsure to what
+Maurice alluded; and when the latter had recalled the details of the case
+to his mind, he said rudely: "You went your way, Herr Guest. Now I go
+mine." He commenced to turn the leaves of his ponderous note-book, and
+after Maurice had stood for some few minutes, listening to Beyerlein trip
+and stumble through Mozart, he felt that, for this day at least, he could
+put up with no more, and left the class.
+
+
+
+
+III.
+
+
+
+Shaking all disagreeable impressions from him, he sped through the fading
+light of the September afternoon.
+
+This was the time--it was six o'clock--at which he could rejoin Louise
+with a free mind. It was the exception for him to go earlier, or at other
+hours; but, did he chance to go, no matter when, she met him in the same
+way--sprang towards him from the window, where she had been sitting or
+standing, with her eyes on the street.
+
+"I believe you watch for me all day long," he said to her once.
+
+On this particular afternoon, when he had used much the same words to her,
+she put back her head and looked up at him, with a pale, unsmiling face.
+
+"Not quite," she answered slowly. "But I have a fancy, Maurice--a foolish,
+fancy--that once you will come early--in the morning--and we shall have
+the whole day together again. Perhaps even go away somewhere . . . before
+summer is quite over."
+
+"And I promise you, dearest, we will. Just let me get through the next
+fortnight, and then I shall be freer. We'll take the train, and go back to
+Rochlitz, or anywhere you like. In the meantime, take more care of
+yourself. You are far too pale. You will go out tomorrow, yes?--to please
+me?"
+
+But this was a request he had often made, and generally in vain.
+
+Since the afternoon of their return, Louise had made no further attempt to
+stem or alter circumstance. She accepted Maurice's absences without demur.
+But one result was, that her feelings were hoarded up for the few hours he
+passed with her: these were then a working-off of emotion; and it seemed
+impossible to cram enough into them, to make good the starved remainder of
+the day.
+
+Maurice was vaguely troubled. He was himself so busy at this time, and so
+full of revived energy, that he could not imagine her happy, living as she
+did, entirely without occupation. At first he had tried to persuade her to
+take up her music again; but she would not even consider it. To all his
+arguments, she made the same reply.
+
+"I have no real talent. With me, it was only an excuse--to get away
+from home."
+
+Nor could he induce her to renew her acquaintance with people she had
+known.
+
+"Do you know, I once thought you didn't care a jot what people said of
+you?" It was not a very kind thing to say; it slipped out unawares.
+
+But she did not take it amiss. "I used not to," she answered with her
+invincible frankness. "But now--it seems--I do."
+
+"Why, dearest? Aren't you happy enough not to care?"
+
+For answer, she took his face between her hands, and looked at him with
+such an ill-suppressed fire in her eyes that all he could do was to draw
+her into his arms.
+
+His pains for her good came to nothing. He took her his favourite books,
+but--with the exception of an occasional novel--Louise was no reader. In
+those he brought her, she seldom advanced further than the first few
+pages; and she could sit for an hour without turning a leaf. He had never
+seen her with a piece of sewing or any such feminine employment in her
+hands. Nor did she spend time on her person; as a rule, he found her in
+her dressing-gown. He had to give up trying to influence her, and to
+become reconciled to the fact that she chose to live only for him. But on
+this September day, after the unpleasant episode with Schwarz, he had a
+fancy to go for a walk; Louise was unwilling; and he felt anew how
+preposterous it was for her to spend these fine autumn days, in this
+half-dark room.
+
+"You are burying yourself alive--just as you did last winter."
+
+She laid her hand on his lips. "No, no!--don't say that. Now I am happy."
+
+"But are you really? Sometimes I'm not sure." He was tired himself this
+evening, and found it difficult to be convinced. "It troubles me when I
+think how dull it must be for you. Dearest, are you--can you really be
+happy like this?"
+
+"I have you, Maurice."
+
+"But only for an hour or two in the twenty-four. Tell me, what do you
+think of?"
+
+"Of you."
+
+"All that time? Of poor, plain, ordinary me?"
+
+"You are mine," she said with vehemence, and looked at him with what he
+called her "hungry-beast" eyes.
+
+"You would like to eat me, I think."
+
+"Yes. And I should begin here; this is the bit of you I love best"--and
+before he knew what she was going to do, she had stooped, and he felt her
+teeth in the skin of his neck.
+
+"That's a strange way of showing your love," he said, and involuntarily
+put his hand to the spot, where two bluish-red marks had appeared.
+
+"It's my way. I want you--I WANT you. I want to feel that you're mine--to
+make you more mine than you've ever been. I wish I had a hundred arms. I
+would hold you with them all, and never let you go."
+
+"But, dearest, one would think I wanted to go. Do you really believe if I
+had my own way, I should be anywhere but here with you?"
+
+"No.--I don't know.--How should I know?"
+
+"Doubts?--beloved!"
+
+"No, no, not doubts. It's only--oh, I don't know what it is. If you could
+always be with me, Maurice, they wouldn't come. For what I never meant to
+happen HAS happened. I have grown to care too much--far too much. I want
+you, I need you, at every moment of the day. I want you never to be out of
+my sight."
+
+Maurice held her at arm's length, and looked at her. "You can say that--at
+last!" And drawing her to him: "Patience, darling. Just a little patience.
+Some day you will never be alone again."
+
+"I do have patience, Maurice. But let me be patient in my own way. For I'm
+not like you. I have no room in me now for other things. I can't think of
+anything else. If I had my way, we should shut ourselves up alone, and
+live only for each other. Not share it, not make it just a part of what we
+do."
+
+"But man can't live on nectar and honey alone. It wouldn't be life."
+
+"It wouldn't be life, no. It would be more than life."
+
+Some of the evening shadows seemed to invade her face. Her expression was
+childishly pathetic. He drew her to his knee.
+
+"I should like to see you happier, Louise--yes, yes, I know!--but I mean
+perfectly happy, as you were sometimes at Rochlitz. Since we came back, it
+has never been just the right thing--say what you like."
+
+"If only we had never come back!"
+
+"If you still think so, darling, when I've finished here, we'll go
+away at once. In the meantime, patience."
+
+"Oh, I don't mean to be unreasonable!" But her head was on his shoulder,
+his arms were round her; and in this position, nothing mattered greatly to
+her.
+
+Patience?--yes, there was need for him to exhort her to patience. It ate
+already into her soul as iron bands eat into flesh. The greater part of
+her life was now spent in practising it. And for sheer loathing of it, she
+turned over, on waking, and kept her eyes closed, in an attempt to prolong
+the night. For the day stretched empty before her; the hours passed, one
+by one, like grey-veiled ghosts. Yet not for a moment had she harboured
+his idea of regular occupation; she knew herself too well for that. In the
+fever into which her blood had worked itself she could settle to nothing:
+her attention was centred wholly in herself; and all her senses were
+preternaturally acute. But she suffered, too, under the stress of her
+feeling; it blunted her, and made her, on the one hand, regardless of
+everything outside it, on the other, morbidly sensitive to trifles. She
+waited for him, hour after hour, crouched in a corner of the sofa, or
+stretched at full length, with closed eyes.
+
+Long before it was time for him to come, she was stationed at the window.
+She learned to know the people who appeared in the street between the
+hours of four and six so accurately that she could have described them
+blindfold. There was the oldfaced little girl who delivered milk; there
+was the postman who emptied into his canvas receptacle, the blue
+letter-box affixed to the opposite wall; the student with the gashed face
+and red cap, who lived a couple of doors further down, and always whistled
+the same tune; the big Newfoundland dog that stalked majestically at his
+side, and answered to the name of Tasso--she knew them all. These two last
+hours were weighted with lead. He came, sometimes a poor half-hour too
+soon, but usually not till past six o'clock. Never, in her life, had she
+waited for anyone like this, and, towards the end of the time, a sense of
+injury, of more than mortal endurance, would steal through her and dull
+her heart towards him, in a way that frightened her.
+
+When, at length, she saw him turn the corner, when she had caught and
+answered his swift upward glance, she drew back into the shadow of the
+room, and hid her face in her hands.
+
+Then she listened.
+
+He had the key of the little papered door in the wall. Between the sound
+of his step on the stair, and the turning of the key in the lock,
+there was time for her to undergo a moment of suspense that drove her hand
+to her throat. What if, after the tension of the afternoon, her heart, her
+nerves--parts of her over which she had no control--should not take their
+customary bound towards him? What if her pulses should not answer his? But
+before she could think her thought to the end, he was there; and when she
+saw his kind eyes alight, his eager hands outstretched, her nervous fears
+were vanquished. Maurice hardly gave himself time to shut the door, before
+catching her to him in a long embrace. And yet, though she did not suspect
+it, he, too, had a twinge of uncertainty on entering. Her bodily presence
+still affected him with a sense of strangeness--it took him a moment to
+get used to her again, as it were--and he was forced to reassure himself
+that nothing had changed during his absence, that she was still all his
+own.
+
+When the agitation of these first, few, speechless minutes had subsided, a
+great tenderness seized Louise; freeing one hand, she smoothed back his
+hair from his forehead, with movements each of which was a caress. As for
+him, his first impetuous rush of feeling was invariably followed by an
+almost morbid pity for her, which, in this form, was a new note in their
+relation to each other, or a harking back to the oldest note of all. When
+he considered how dependent she was on him, how her one desire was to have
+him with her, he felt that he could never repay her or do enough for her:
+and, whatever his own state of mind previous to coming, when once he was
+there, he exerted himself to the utmost, to cheer her. It was always she
+who needed consolation; and, by means of his endearments, she was petted
+back to happiness like a tired child.
+
+In his efforts to take her out of herself, Maurice told her how he had
+spent the day: where he had been, and whom he had met--every detail that
+he thought might interest her. She listened, in grateful silence, but she
+never put a question. This at an end, he returned once more, in a kind of
+eternal circle, to the one subject of which she never wearied. He might
+repeat, for the thousandth time, how dear she was to him, without the
+least fear that the story would grow stale in the telling.
+
+And once here, amidst the deep tenderness of his words, he felt her slowly
+come to life again, and unfold like a flower. After the long, dead day,
+Louise was consumed by a desire to drain such moments as these to the
+dregs. She did not let a word of his pass unchallenged, and all that she
+herself said, was an attempt to discover some spasm of mental ecstasy,
+which they had not yet experienced. Sometimes, the feeling grew so
+strong that it forced her to give an outward sign. Slipping to her knees,
+she gazed at him with the eyes of a faithful animal. "What have I done to
+make you look at me like that?" asked Maurice, amazed.
+
+"What can I do to show you how I love you? Tell me what I can do."
+
+"Do?--what do you want to do? Be your own dear self--that's all, and more
+than enough."
+
+But she continued to look beseechingly at him, waiting for the word that
+might be the word of her salvation.
+
+"Haven't you done enough already, in giving yourself to me?" he asked,
+seeing how she hung on his lips.
+
+But she repeated: "What can I do? Let me do something. Oh, I wish you
+would hurt me, or be unkind to me!"
+
+He tried to make her understand that he wished for no such humble
+adoration, that, indeed, he could not be happy under it. If either was to
+serve the other, it was he; he asked nothing better than to put his hands
+under her feet. But he could neither coax her nor laugh her out of her
+absorption: she had the will to self-abasement; and she remained
+unsatisfied, waiting for the word he would not speak.
+
+Once or twice, during these weeks, they went out in the evening, and, in
+the corner of some quiet restaurant, took a festive little meal. But, for
+the most part, she preferred to stay at home. She was not dressed, she
+said, or she was tired, or it was too hot, or it had rained. And Maurice
+did not urge her; for, on the last occasion, the evening had been spoiled
+for him by the conduct of some people at a neighbouring table; they had
+stared at Louise, and whispered remarks about her. At home, she herself
+prepared the supper, moving indolently about the room, her dressing-gown
+dragging after her, from table to cupboard, and back again, often with a
+pause at his side, in which she forgot what she had set out for. Maurice
+disputed each trifling service with her; he could only think of Louise as
+made to be waited on, slow to serve herself.
+
+"Let me do it, dearest."
+
+She had risen anew to fetch something. Now she stood beside him, and put
+her arms round his neck.
+
+"What can I do for you? Tell me what I can do," she said, and crushed his
+head against her breast.
+
+He loosened her fingers, and drew her to his knee. "What do you
+want me to say, dear discontent? Do?--you were never meant to do anything
+in this world. Your hands were made to lie one on top of the other...so!
+Look at them! Most white and most useless!"
+
+"There are things not made with hands," she answered obscurely. She let
+him do what he liked; but she kept her face turned away; and over her eyes
+passed a faint shadow of resignation.
+
+But this mood also was a transient one; hours followed, when she no longer
+sought and questioned, but when she gave, recklessly, in a wild endeavour
+to lose the sense of twofold being. And before these outbreaks, the young
+man was helpless. His past life, and such experience as he had gathered in
+it, grew fantastic and unreal, might all have belonged to some one else:
+the sole reality in a world of shadows was this soft human body that he
+held in his arms.
+
+Point by point, however, each of which wounded, consciousness fought
+itself free again. Such violent extremes of emotion were, in truth,
+contrary to his nature. They made him unsure. And, as the pendulum swung
+back, something vital in him made protest.
+
+"Sometimes, it seems as if there were something else . . . something
+that's not love at all . . . more like hate--yes, as if you hated me . . .
+would like to kill me."
+
+Her whole body was moved by the sigh she drew.
+
+"If I only could! Then I should know that you were mine indeed."
+
+"Is it possible for me to be more yours than I am?"
+
+"Part of you would never be mine, though we spent all our lives together."
+
+He roused himself from his lethargy. "How can you say that?--And yet I
+think I know what you mean. It's like a kind of rage that comes over
+one--Yes, I've felt it, too. Listen, darling!--there are things one can't
+say in daylight. I, too, have felt . . . sometimes . . . that in spite of
+all my love for you--I mean our love for each other--yet there was still
+something, a part of you, I had no power over. The real you is
+something--some one I don't really know in spite of all the kisses.
+Yes"--and the more he tried to find words for what he meant, the more
+convinced he grew of its truth. "Nothing keeps us apart; you love me, are
+here in my arms, and yet . . .yet there's a bit of you I can't
+influence--that is still strange to me. How often I have to ask you why
+you look at me in a certain way, or what you are thinking of! I never know
+your thoughts; I've never once been able to read them; you always keep
+something back.--Why is it, dear? Is it my fault? If I could just once get
+at your real self--if I knew that once, only once, in all these weeks, you
+had been mine--every bit of you--then . . . yes, then, I believe I would
+be satisfied to . . . to--I don't know what!"
+
+He had spoken in an even, monotonous voice, almost more to himself than to
+her. Now, however, he was forced to the opposite extreme of anxious
+solicitude. "No, no, I didn't really mean it. Darling! . . . hush!--don't
+cry like that. I didn't know what I was saying; it isn 't true, not a word
+of it."
+
+She had flung herself across him; her own elemental weeping shook her from
+head to foot. He realised, for the first time, the depth and strength of
+it, now that it, as it were, went through him, too. Gathering her to him,
+he made wild and foolish promises. But nothing soothed her: she wept on,
+until the dawn crept in, thinly grey, round the windows. But when it grew
+so light that the objects in the room were recovering their form, she fell
+asleep, and he hardly dared to breathe, for fear of disturbing her.
+
+By day, the sensations he had tried to express to her seemed the figments
+of the night. He needed only to be absent from her to feel the old
+restlessness tug at his heart-strings. At such moments, it seemed to him
+ridiculous to torment himself about an infinitesimal flaw in their love,
+and one which perhaps existed only in his imagination. To be with her
+again was his sole desire; and to feel her cheek on his, to be free to run
+his hands through her exciting hair, belonged, when he was separated from
+her, to that small category of things for which he would have bartered his
+soul.
+
+One evening, towards the end of September, Louise watched for him at the
+window. It had been a warm autumn day, rich in varying lights and shades.
+Now it was late, nearly half-past six, and still he had not come: her eyes
+were tired with staring down the street.
+
+When at last he appeared, she saw that that he was carrying flowers. Her
+heart, which, at the sight of him, had set up a glad and violent beating,
+settled down again at once, to its normal course. She knew what the
+flowers meant: in a spirit of candour, which had something disarming in
+it, he invariably brought them when he could not stay long with her; and
+she had learned to dread seeing them in his hand.
+
+In very truth, he was barely inside the room before he told her
+that he could only stay for an hour. He was to play his trio the following
+evening, and now, at the last moment, the 'cellist had been taken ill. He
+had spent the greater part of the afternoon looking for a substitute, and
+having found one, had still to interview him again, to let him know the
+time at which Schwarz had appointed an extra rehearsal for the next day.
+
+Maurice had mentioned more than once the date of his playing; but it had
+never seemed more to Louise than a disturbing outside fact, to be put out
+of mind or kissed away. She had forgotten all about it, and the knowledge
+of this overcame her disappointment; she tried to atone, by being
+reasonable. Maurice had steeled himself against pleadings and despondency,
+and was grateful to her for making things easy. He wished to outdo himself
+in tender encouragement; but she remained evasive: and since, in spite of
+himself, he could not hinder his thoughts from slipping forward to the
+coming evening, he, too, had moments of preoccupied silence.
+
+When the clock struck eight, he rose to go. In saying goodnight, he turned
+her face up, and asked her had she decided if she were coming to hear him
+play.
+
+It was on her direct lips to reply that she had not thought anything about
+it. A glance at his face checked her. He was waiting anxiously for her
+answer: it was a matter of importance to him. Her previous sense of
+remissness was still with her, hampering her, making her unfree; and for a
+minute she did not know what to say.
+
+"Would you mind much if I asked you not to come?" he said as she
+hesitated.
+
+"No, of course not," she hastened to respond, glad to be relieved of the
+decision. "If you would rather I didn't."
+
+"It's a fancy of mine, dearest--foolish, I know--that I shall get on
+better if you're not there."
+
+"It's all right. I understand."
+
+When he had gone, she returned to her place at the window. It was a fine
+night: there was no moon; but the stars glittered furiously in the
+inky-blue sky, a stretch of which was visible above the gardens. The
+vastness of the night, the distance of sky and stars, made her shiver.
+Leaning her wrists on the cold, moist sill, she looked down into the
+street; it was not very far; but a jump from where she was, to the
+pavement, would suffice to put an end to every feeling. She was very
+lonely; no one wanted her. Here she might stand, at this forlorn post, for
+hours, for the whole night; no one would either know or care.--And
+her feeling of error, of unfreedom and desolation grew so hard to bear
+that, for fear she should actually throw herself down, she banged the
+window to, with a crash that resounded through the street.
+
+But there was something else at work in her to-night, which she could not
+understand. She struggled with it, as one struggles with a forgotten
+melody, which hovers behind the consciousness, and will not emerge.
+
+Except for the light thrown by a small lamp, the room was in shadow. She
+went slowly back to the sofa. On the way she trod on the roses; they had
+been knocked down and forgotten. She picked them up, and laid them on the
+cushioned seat beside her. They were dark crimson, and gave out a strong
+scent: Maurice had seldom brought her such beautiful roses. She sat with
+her elbows on her knees, her hands closed and pressed to her cheeks, as
+though she could only think with her muscles at a strain. In memory, she
+went over what he had said, reflected on what his words meant, and strove,
+honestly, to project herself into that part of his life, of which she knew
+nothing. But it was not easy; for one thing, the smell of the roses was
+too strong; it seemed to hinder her imagination. They had the scent that
+only deep red roses have--one which seems to come from a distance, from
+the very heart of cool, pure things--and more and more, she felt as if
+something within her were trying to find vent in it, something that
+swelled up, subsided, and mounted again, with what was almost a physical
+effort. It had been the truth when she told him that she understood; but
+it had touched her strangely all the same: for it had let her see into an
+unsuspected corner of his nature. He, too, then, had a cranny in his
+brain, where such fancies lodged--such an eccentric, artist fancy, or
+whim, or superstition--as that, out of several hundred people, a single
+individual could distract and disturb. He . . . too!
+
+The little word had done it. Now she knew--knew what the roses had been
+trying to tell her. And as if invisible hands had touched a spring in her
+brain, thereby opening some secret place, the memory of a certain hour
+returned to her, returned with such force that she fell on her knees, and
+pressed her face to the seat of the sofa. On the floor beside her lay the
+roses. Why, oh why, had he needed to bring them to her, on this night of
+all others?
+
+On the day she remembered, they had been lavished over the
+room-one June evening, two years ago. And ever afterwards, the scent of
+blood-red roses had been associated for her with one of the sweet, leading
+themes in Beethoven's violin concerto. There was a special concert that
+night at the Conservatorium; the hall was filled to the last place. She
+waited with him in the green-room, until his turn came to play. Then she
+went into the hall, and stood at the back, under the gallery. Once more,
+she was aware of the stir that ran through the audience, as Schilsky
+walked down the platform. Hardly, however, had he drawn his bow across the
+strings, when she felt a touch on her arm, and a Russian, who was an
+intimate friend of his, beckoned her outside. There, he told her that he
+had been sent to ask her to leave the hall; and they smiled at each other,
+in understanding of the whim. Afterwards, she learned how, just about to
+step on to the platform, Schilsky had had a presentiment that things would
+go wrong if she remained inside. In his gratitude, and in the boyish
+exultation with which success filled him, he had collected all the roses,
+and wantonly pulled them to pieces. Red petals fell like flakes of red
+snow; and, crushed and bruised, the fragile leaves had yielded a scent,
+tenfold increased.
+
+While it lasted, the vision was painfully intense: on returning to
+herself, she was obliged to look round and think where she was. The lamp
+burned steadily; the dull room was just as she had left it. With a cry,
+she buried her face in the cushions again, and held her hands to her ears.
+
+More, more, and more again! She was as hungry for these memories as a
+child for dainties. She was starved for them. And now, dead to the
+present, she relived the past happy hours of triumph and excitement, not
+one of which had hung heavy, in each of which her craving for sensation
+had been stilled. She saw herself as she had then been, proud, secure,
+unspeakably content. Forgotten words rang in her ears, words of love and
+of anger, words that were like ointment and like knives. Then, not a day
+had been empty or tedious; life was always highly coloured, and there was
+neither pleasure nor pain that she had not tasted to the full. Even the
+suffering she had gone through, for his sake, was no longer hateful to
+her. Anything--anything rather than this dead level of monotony on which
+she had fallen.
+
+When, finally, she raised her head, she might, for all she knew, have been
+absent for days. Things had lost their familiar aspect; she had once more
+lived right through the great experience of her life. Putting her hands to
+her forehead, she tried to force her thoughts back to reality.
+Then, stiffly, she rose from her knees. In doing so, she touched the
+roses. With a gesture that was her real awakening, she caught them up and
+pressed them to her face. It was a satisfaction to her that fingers and
+cheeks were pricked by their thorns. She was conscious of wishing to hurt
+herself. With her lips on the cool buds, she stammered broken words:
+"Maurice--my poor Maurice!" and kissed the flowers, feeling as if, in some
+occult way, he would be aware of her kisses, of the love she was thus
+expending on him.
+
+For, in a sudden revulsion of feeling, she was sensible of a great
+compassion for him; and with each pressure of her lips to the roses, she
+implored his forgiveness for her unpremeditated desertion. She called to
+mind his tenderness, his unceasing care of her, and, closing her eyes,
+stretched out her arms to him, in the empty room. Already she began to
+live for the following evening, when he would come again. Now, only to
+sleep through as many as she could of the hours that separated them! She
+would be to him the next night, what she had never yet been: his own rival
+in fondness. And as a beginning, she crossed the room, and put the fading
+roses in a pitcher of water.
+
+
+
+
+IV.
+
+
+
+Towards seven o'clock the following evening, Maurice loitered about the
+vestibule of the Conservatorium. In spite of his attempt to time himself,
+he had arrived too early, and his predecessor on the programme had still
+to play two movements of a sonata by Beethoven.
+
+As he stood there, Madeleine entered by the street-door.
+
+"Is that you?" she asked, in the ironical tone she now habitually used to
+him. "You look just as if you were posing for the John in a Rubens
+Crucifixion.--Feel shaky? No? You ought to, you know. One plays all the
+better for it.--Well, good luck to you! I'll hold my thumbs."
+
+He went along the passage to the little green-room, at the heels of his
+string-players. On seeing them go by, it had occurred to him that he might
+draw their attention to a passage in the VARIATIONS, with which he had not
+been satisfied at rehearsal that day. But when he caught them up, they
+were so deep in talk that he hesitated to interrupt. The 'cellist, a
+greasy, little fellow with a mop of touzled hair, was relating an
+adventure he had had the night before. His droll way of telling it was
+more amusing than the long-winded story, and he himself was more tickled
+by it than was the violinist, a lanky German-American boy, with oily black
+hair and a pimpled face. Throughout, both tuned their instruments
+assiduously, with that air of inattention common to string-players.
+
+Meanwhile, the sonata by Beethoven ran its course. While the story-teller
+still smacked his lips, it came to an end, and the performer, a tall,
+Polish girl, with a long, sallow, bird-like neck, round which was wound a
+piece of black velvet, descended the steps. Behind her was heard the
+applause of many hands. As this showed no sign of ceasing, Schwarz, who
+had come out of the hall by a lower door, bade her return and bow her
+thanks. At his words, the girl burst into tears.
+
+"NA, NA, NA!" he said soothingly. "What's all this about? You did
+excellently."
+
+She seized his hand and clung to it. The 'cellist ran to fetch water; the
+other two young men were embarrassed, and looked away.
+
+Here, however, several friends burst into the room, and bore
+Fraulein Prybowski off. Schwarz gave the signal, the stringplayers picked
+up their instruments, and the little procession, with Maurice at its head,
+mounted the steps to the platform.
+
+Although before an audience for the first time in his life, Maurice had
+never felt more composed. Passing by the organ, and the empty seats of the
+orchestra, he descended to the front of the platform, where two grand
+pianos stood side by side; and, as he went, he noted that the hall was
+exceptionally well filled. He let down the lid of the piano to the peg for
+chambermusic; he lowered the piano-chair, and flicked the keys with his
+handkerchief. And Schwarz, sitting by him, to turn the pages of the music,
+felt so sure of this pupil's coolness that he yawned, and stroked the
+insides of his trouser-legs.
+
+Maurice was just ready for the start, when the 'cellist, who was restless,
+discovered that the stand which had been placed for him was insecure;
+rising from his scat, he went to fetch another from the back of the
+platform. In the delay that ensued, Maurice looked round at the audience.
+He saw innumerable heads and faces, all turned expectantly towards him,
+like lines of globular fruits. His eye ranged indifferently over the
+occupants of the front seats--strange faces, which told him nothing--until
+his attention was arrested by a face almost directly beneath him, in the
+second row. For the flash of a second, he thought he knew the person to
+whom it belonged, and struggled to recall a name. Then, almost as swiftly,
+he dismissed the idea. It was, however, a face of that kind which, once
+seen, is never forgotten--a frog-like face, with protruding eyes, and the
+frog's expressive leer. Somewhere, not very long ago, this face had been
+before him, and had stared at him in the same disconcerting manner--but
+where? when? In the few seconds that remained, his brain worked furiously,
+sped back in desperate haste over all the likely places where he might
+have seen it. And a restaurant evolved itself; a table in a secluded
+corner; chrysanthemums and their acrid scent; a screen, round which this
+repulsive face had peered. It had fixed them both, with such malevolence
+that it had destroyed his pleasure, and he had persuaded Louise to go
+home. His memory was now so alert that he could recall the man's two
+companions as well.
+
+The scene built itself up with inconceivable rapidity. And while he was
+still absorbed by it, Schwarz raised a decisive hand. It was the signal to
+begin; he obeyed unthinkingly; and was at the bottom of the first page
+before he knew it.
+
+Throughout the whole of the opening movement, he was not rightly
+awake to what he was doing. His fingers, like well-drilled soldiers, went
+automatically through their work, neither blundering nor forgetting; but
+the mind which should have controlled them was unable to concentrate
+itself: he heard himself play as though he were listening to some one
+else. He was only roused by the burst of applause that succeeded the final
+chords. As he struck the first notes of the ANDANTE WITH VARIATIONS, he
+nerved himself for an effort; but now, as if it were the result of his
+previous inattention, an odd uneasiness beset him; and his beginning to
+weigh each note as he played it, his fingers hesitated and grew less sure.
+Having failed, through over-care, in the rounding of a turn, he resolved
+to let things go as they would, and his thoughts wander at will. The
+movements of the trio succeeded one another; the VARIATIONS ceased, and
+were followed by the crisp gaiety of the MINUET. The lights above his head
+were reflected in the shining ebony of the piano; regularly, every moment
+or two, he was struck by the appearance of Schwarz's broad, fat hand,
+which crossed his range of vision to turn a leaf; he meditated absently on
+a sharp uplifting of this hand that occurred, as though the master were
+dissatisfied with the rhythm--the 'cellist's fault, no doubt: he had been
+inexact at rehearsal, and, this evening, was too much taken up with his
+own witticisms beforehand, to think about what he had to do. And thus the
+four divisions of the trio slipped past, separated by a disturbing noise
+of hands, which continued to seem as unreal to Maurice as everything else.
+Only as the last notes of the PRESTISSIMO died away, in the disappointing,
+ineffectual scales in C major, with which the trio closed--not till then
+did he grasp that the event to which he had looked forward for many weeks
+was behind him, and also that no one present knew less of how it had
+passed off than he himself.
+
+With his music in his hand, he turned to Schwarz, to learn what success he
+had had, from the master's face. According to custom, Schwarz shook hands
+with him; he also nodded. but he did not smile. He was, however, in a
+hurry; the old: white-haired director had left his seat, and stood waiting
+to speak to him. Both 'cellist and violinist had vanished on the instant;
+the audience, eager as ever at the end of a concert to shake off an
+imposed restraint, had risen while Maurice still played the final notes;
+and, by this time, the hall was all but empty.
+
+He slowly ascended the platform. Now that it was over, he felt how
+tired he was; his very legs were tired, as though he had walked for miles.
+The green-room was deserted; the gas-jet had been screwed down to a peep.
+None of his friends had come to say a word to him. He had really hardly
+expected it; but, all the same, a hope had lurked in him that Krafft would
+perhaps afterwards make some sign--even Madeleine. As, however, neither of
+them appeared, he seemed to read a confirmation of his failure in their
+absence, and he loitered for some time in the semi-darkness, unwilling to
+face the dispersing crowd. When at length he went down the passage, only a
+few stragglers remained. One or two acquaintances congratulated him in due
+form, but he knew neither well enough to try to get at the truth. As he
+was nearing the street-door, however, Dove came out of the BUREAU. He made
+for Maurice at once; his manner was eager, his face bore the imprint of
+interesting news.
+
+"I say, Guest!" he cried, while still some way off. "An odd coincidence.
+Young Leumann is to play this very same trio next week. A little chap in
+knickerbockers, you know--pupils of Rendel's. He is said to have a
+glorious LEGATO--just the very thing for the VARIATIONS."
+
+"Indeed?" said Maurice with a well-emphasised dryness. His tone nudged
+Dove's memory.
+
+"By the way, all congratulations, of course," he hastened to add. "Never
+heard you play better. Especially the MENUETTO. Some people sitting behind
+me were reminded of Rubinstein."
+
+"Well, good-night, I'm off," said Maurice, and, even as he spoke, he shot
+away, leaving his companion in some surprise.
+
+Once out of Dove's sight, he took off his hat and passed his hand over his
+forehead. Any slender hope he might have had was now crushed; his playing
+had been so little remarkable that even Dove had been on the point of
+overlooking it altogether.
+
+Louise threw herself into his arms. At last! she exulted to herself. But
+his greeting had not its usual fervour; instead of kissing her, he laid
+his face against her hair. Instantly, she became uncertain. She did not
+quite know what she had been expecting; perhaps it had been something of
+the old, pleasurable excitement that she had learnt to associate with an
+occasion like the present. She put back her head and looked at him, and
+her look was a question.
+
+"Yes. At least it's over, thank goodness!" he said in reply.
+
+Not knowing what answer to make to this, she led him to the sofa. They sat
+down, and, for a few minutes, neither spoke. Then, he did what on the way
+there, he had imagined himself doing: laid his head on her lap, and
+himself placed her hands on his hair. She passed them backwards and
+forwards; her sense of having been repulsed, yielded, and she tried to
+change the current of his thoughts.
+
+"Did you notice, Maurice, as you came along, how full the air was of
+different scents to-night?" she asked as her cool hands went to and fro.
+"It was like an evening in July. I was at the window trying to make them
+out. But the roses were too strong for them; for you see--or rather you
+have not seen--all the roses I have got for you--yes, just dark red roses.
+This afternoon I went to the little shop at the corner, and bought all
+they had. The pretty girl served me--do you remember the pretty girl with
+the yellow hair, who tried to make friends with you last summer? You like
+roses, too, don't you? Though not as much as I do. They were always my
+favourite flowers. As a child, I used to imagine what it would be like to
+gather them for a whole day, without stopping. But, like all my wishes
+then, this had to be postponed, too, till that wonderful future, which was
+to bring me all I wanted. There were only a few bushes where I lived; it
+was too dry for them. But the smell of them takes me back--always. I have
+only to shut my eyes, and I am full of the old extravagant longings--the
+childish impatience with time, which seemed to crawl so slowly . . . even
+to stand still."
+
+"Tell me all about it," he murmured, without raising his head.
+
+She smiled and humoured him.
+
+"I like flowers best for their scents," she went on. "No matter what
+beautiful colours they have. A camelia is a foolish flower; like a blind
+man's face--the chief thing is wanting. But then, of course, the smell
+must remind one of pleasant things. It's strange, isn't it, how much
+association has to do with pleasure?--or pain. Some things affect me so
+strongly that they make me wretched. There's music I can't listen to; I
+have to put my hands to my ears, and run away from it; and all because it
+takes me back to an unhappy hour, or to a time of my life that I hated.
+There are streets I never walk through, even words I dread to hear anyone
+say, because they are connected with some one I disliked, or a day
+I would rather not have lived. And it is just the same with smells. Wood
+smouldering outside!--and all the country round is smoky with bush fires.
+Mimosa in the room--and I can feel the sun beating down on deserted shafts
+and the stillness of the bush. Rotting leaves and the smell of moist
+earth, and I am a little girl again, in short dresses, standing by a
+grave--my father's to which I was driven in a high buggy, between two men
+in black coats. I can't remember crying at all, or even feeling sorry; I
+only smelt the earth--it was in the rainy season and there was water in
+the grave.--But flowers give me my pleasantest memories. Passion-flowers
+and periwinkles--you will say they have no smell, but it's not true. Flat,
+open passionflowers--red or white--with purplish-fringed centres, have a
+honey-smell, and make me think of long, hot, cloudless days, which seemed
+to have neither beginning nor end. And little periwinkles have a cool
+green smell; for they grew along an old paling fence, which was shady and
+sometimes even damp. And violets? I never really cared for violets; not
+till . . . I mean . . . I never . . ."
+
+She had entangled herself, and broke off so abruptly that he moved. He was
+afraid this soothing flow of words was going to cease.
+
+"Yes, yes, go on, tell me some more--about violets."
+
+She hastened to recover herself. "They are silly little flowers. Made to
+wither in one's dress . . . or to be crushed. Unless one could have them
+in such masses that they filled the room. But lilac, Maurice, great sprays
+and bunches of lilac-white and purple--you know, don't you, who will
+always be associated with lilac for me? Do you remember some of those
+evenings at the theatre, on the balcony between the acts? The gallery was
+so hot, and out there it seemed as if the whole town were steeped in
+lilac. Or walking home--those glorious nights--when some one was so
+silent . . . so moody--do you remember?"
+
+At the peculiar veiled tone that had come into her voice; at this reminder
+of a past day of alternate rapture and despair, so different from the
+secured happiness of the present; at the thought of this common memory
+that had built itself up for them round a flower's scent, a rush of
+grateful content overcame Maurice, and, for the first time since entering
+the room, he looked up at her with a lover's eyes.
+
+Safe, with her arms round him, he was strong enough to face the
+worst. "How good you are to me, dearest! And I don't deserve it. To-night,
+you might just have sent me away again, when I came. For I was in a
+disagreeable mood--and still am. But you won't give me up just yet for all
+that, will you? However despondent I get about myself? For you are all I
+have, Louise--in the whole world. Yes, I may as well confess it to you,
+to-night was a failure--not a noisy, open one but all the same, it's no
+use calling it anything else."
+
+He had laid his head on her lap again, so did not see her face. While he
+spoke, Louise looked at him, in a kind of unwilling surprise.
+Instinctively, she ceased to pass her hands over his hair.
+
+"Oh, no, Maurice," she then protested, but weakly, without conviction.
+
+"Yes--failure," he repeated, and put more emphasis than before on the
+word. "It's no good beating about the bush.--And do you realise what
+it--what failure means for us, Louise?"
+
+"Oh, no," she said again, vaguely trying to ward off what she foresaw was
+coming. "And why talk about it to-night? You are tired. Things will seem
+different in the morning. Shut your eyes again, and lie quite still."
+
+But, the ice once broken, he felt the need of speaking--of speaking out
+relentlessly all that was in him. And, as he talked. he found it
+impossible to keep still; he paced the room. He was very pale and very
+voluble, and made a clean breast of everything that troubled him; not so
+much, however, with the idea of confessing it to her, as of easing his own
+mind. And now, again, he let her see into his real self, and, unlike the
+previous occasion, it was here more than a glimpse that she caught. He was
+distressingly frank with her. She heard now, for the first time, of the
+foolish ambitions with which he had begun his studies in Leipzig; heard of
+their gradual subsidence, and his humble acceptance of his inferiority, as
+well as of his present fear that, when his time came to an end, he would
+have nothing to show for it--and under the influence of what had just
+happened, this fear grew more vivid. It was one thing, he made clear to
+her, and unpleasant enough at best, to have to find yourself to rights as
+a mediocrity, when you had hoped with all your heart that you were
+something more. But what if, having staked everything on it, you should
+discover that you had mistaken your calling altogether?
+
+"To-night, you see, I think I should have been a better chimney-sweep. The
+real something that makes the musician--even the genuinely musical
+outsider--is wanting in me. I've learnt to see that, by degrees, though I
+don't know in the least what it is.--But even suppose I were mistaken--who
+could tell me that I was? One's friends are only too glad to avoid giving
+a downright opinion, and then, too, which of them would one care to trust?
+I believe in the end I shall go straight to Schwarz, and get him to tell
+me what he thinks of me--whether I'm making a fool of myself or not."
+
+"Oh, I wouldn't do that," Louise said quickly.
+
+It was the first time she had interrupted him. She had sat and followed
+his restless movements with a look of apprehension. A certain board in the
+floor creaked when he trod on it, and she found herself listening, each
+time, for the creaking of this board. She was sorry for him, but she could
+not attach the importance he did to his assumed want of success, nor was
+she able to subdue the feeling of distaste with which his doubtings
+inspired her. It was so necessary, too, this outpouring; she had never
+felt curious about the side of his nature which was not the lover's side.
+Tonight, it became clear to her that she would have preferred to remain in
+ignorance of it. And besides, what he said was so palpable, so undeniable,
+that she could not understand his dragging the matter to the surface: she
+had never thought of him but as one of the many honest workers, who swell
+the majority, and are not destined to rise above the crowd. She had not
+dreamed of his considering himself in another light, and it was painful to
+her now, to find that he had done so. To put an end to such embarrassing
+confidences, she went over to him, and, with her hands on his shoulders,
+her face upturned, said all the consoling words she could think of, to
+make him forget. They had never yet failed in their effect. But to-night
+too much was at work in Maurice, for him to be influenced by them. He
+kissed her, and touched her cheek with his hand, then began anew; and she
+moved away, with a slight impatience, which she did not try to conceal.
+
+"You brood too much, Maurice . . . and you exaggerate things, too. What if
+every one took himself so seriously?--and talked of failure because on a
+single occasion he didn't do himself justice?"
+
+"It's more than that with me, dear.--But it's a bad habit, I know--not
+that I really mean to take myself too seriously; but all my life I have
+been forced to worry about things, and to turn them over."
+
+"It's unhealthy always to be looking into yourself. Let things go
+more, and they'll carry you with them."
+
+He took her hands. "What wise-sounding words! And I'm in the wrong, I
+know, as usual. But, in this case, it's impossible not to worry. What
+happened this evening seems a trifle to you, and no doubt would to every
+one else, too. But I had made a kind of touchstone of it; it was to help
+to decide the future--that hideously uncertain future of ours! I believe
+now, as far as I'm concerned, I don't care whether I ever come to anything
+or not. Of course, I should rather have been a success--we all would!--but
+caring for you has swallowed up the ridiculous notions I once had. For
+your sake--it's you I torment myself about. WHAT is to become of us?"
+
+"If that's all, Maurice! Something will turn up, I'm sure it will. Have a
+little patience, and faith in luck . . . or fate . . . or whatever you
+like to call it."
+
+"That's a woman's way of looking at things."
+
+He was conscious of speaking somewhat unkindly; but he was hurt by her
+lack of sympathy. Instead, however, of smoothing things over, he was
+impelled, by an unconquerable impulse, to disclose himself still further.
+"Besides, that's not all," he said, and avoided her eyes. "There's
+something else, and I may just as well make a clean breast of it. It's not
+only that the future is every bit as shadowy to-night as it has always
+been: I haven't advanced it by an inch. But I feel to-night that if I
+could have been what I once hoped to be--no, how shall I put it? You know,
+dear, from the very beginning there has been something wrong, a kind of
+barrier between ushasn't there? How often I've tried to find out what it
+is! Well, to-night I seem to know. If I were not such an out-and-out
+mediocrity, if I had really been able to achieve something, you would care
+for me--yes, that's it!--as you can't possibly care now. You would have
+to; you wouldn't be able to help yourself."
+
+Her first impulsive denial died on her lips; as he continued to speak, she
+seemed to feel in his words an intention to wound her, or, at least, to
+accuse her of want of love. When she spoke, it was in a cool voice, as
+though she were on her guard against being touched too deeply.
+
+"That has nothing whatever to do with it," she said. "It's you yourself,
+Maurice, I care for--not what you can or can't do."
+
+But these words added fuel to his despondency. "Yes, that's just
+it," he answered. "For you, I'm in two parts, and one of them means
+nothing to you. I've felt it, often enough, though I've never spoken of it
+till to-night. Only one side of me really matters to you. But if I'd been
+able to accomplish what I once intended--to make a name for myself, or
+something of that sort--then it would all have been different. I could
+have forced you to be interested in every single thing I did--not only in
+the me that loves you, but in every jot of my outside life as well."
+
+Louise did not reply: she had a moment of genuine despondency. The staunch
+tenderness she had been resolved to feel for him this evening, collapsed
+and shrivelled up; for the morbid self-probing in which he was indulging
+made her see him with other eyes. What he said belonged to that category
+of things which are too true to be put into words: why could not he, like
+every one else, let them rest, and act as if they did not exist? It was as
+clear as day: if he were different, the whole story of their relations
+would be different, too. But as he could not change his nature, what was
+the use of talking about it, and of turning out to her gaze, traits of
+mind with which she could not possibly sympathise? Standing, a long white
+figure, beside the piano, she let her arms hang weakly at her sides. She
+did not try to reason with him again, or even to comfort him; she let him
+go on and on, always in the same strain, till her nerves suddenly rebelled
+at the needless irritation.
+
+"Oh, WHY must you be like this to-night?" she broke in on him. "Why try to
+destroy such happiness as we have? Can you never be content?"
+
+From the way in which he seized upon these words, it seemed as if he had
+only been waiting for her to say them. "Such happiness as we have!" he
+repeated. "There!--listen!--you yourself admit it. Admit all I've been
+saying.--And do you think I can realise that, and be happy? No, I've
+suffered under it from the first day. Oh, why, loving you as I do, could I
+not have been different?--more worthy of you. Why couldn't I, too, be one
+of those favoured mortals . . .? Listen to me," he said lowering his
+voice, and speaking rapidly. "Let me make another confession. Do you know
+why to-night is doubly hard to bear? It's because--yes, because I know you
+must be forced--and not to-night only, but often--to compare me what I am
+and what I can do--with . . . with . . . you know who I mean. It's
+inevitable--the comparison must be thrust on you every day of your
+life. But does that, do you think, make it any the easier for me?"
+
+As the gist of what he was trying to say was borne in upon her, Louise
+winced. Her face lost its tired expression, and grew hard. "You are
+breaking your word," she said, in a tone she had never before used to him.
+"You promised me once, the past should never be mentioned between us."
+
+"I'm not blind, Louise," he went on, as though she had not spoken. "Nor am
+I in a mood to-night to make myself any illusions. The remembrance of what
+he was--he was never doubtful of himself, was he?--must always--HAS always
+stood between us, while I have racked my brains to discover what it was.
+To-night it came over me like a flash that it was he--that he . . . he
+spoiled you utterly for anyone else; made it impossible for you to care
+for anyone who wasn't made of the same stuff as he was. It would never
+have occurred to him, would it, to torment you and make you suffer for his
+own failure? For the very good reason that he never was a failure. Oh, I
+haven't the least doubt what a sorry figure I must cut beside him!"
+
+The unhappy words came out slowly, and seemed to linger in the air. Louise
+did not break the pause that followed, and by her silence, assented to
+what he said. She still stood motionless beside the piano.
+
+"Or tell me," Maurice cried abruptly, with a ray of hope; "tell me the
+truth about it all, for once. Was it mere exaggeration, or was he really
+worth so much more than all the rest of us? Of course he could play--I
+know that--but so can many a fool. But all the other part of it--his
+incredible talent, or luck in everything he touched--was it just report,
+or was it really something else?--Tell me."
+
+"He was a genius," she answered, very coldly and distinctly; and her voice
+warned him once more that he was trespassing on ground to which he had no
+right. But he was too excited to take the warning.
+
+"A genius!" he echoed. "He was a genius! Yes, what did I tell you? Your
+very words imply a comparison as you say them. For I?--what am I? A
+miserable bungler, a wretched dilettant--or have you another word for it?
+Oh, never mind--don't be afraid to say it!--I'm not sensitive tonight. I
+can bear to hear your real opinion of me; for it could not possibly be
+lower than my own. Let us get at the truth for once, by all means!--But
+what I want to know," he cried a moment later, "is, why one should
+be given so much and the other so little. To one all the talents and all
+your love; and the other unhappy wretch remains an outsider his whole life
+long. When you speak in that tone about him, I could wish with all my
+heart that he had been no better than I am. It would give me pleasure to
+know that he, too, had only been a dabbling amateur--the victim of a
+pitiable wish to be what he hadn't the talent for."
+
+He could not face her amazement; he stared at the yellow globe of the lamp
+till his eyes smarted.
+
+"It no doubt seems despicable to you," he went on, "but I can't help it. I
+hate him for the way he was able to absorb you. He's my worst enemy, for
+he has made it impossible for you--the woman I love--to love me wholly in
+return.--Of course, you can't--you WON'T understand. You're only aghast at
+what you think my littleness. Of all I've gone through, you know nothing,
+and don't want to know. But with him, it was different; you had no
+difficulty in understanding him. He had the power over you. Look!--at this
+very moment, you are siding, not with me, but with him. All my struggling
+and striving counts for nothing.--Oh, if I could only understand you!" He
+moved to and fro in his agitation. "Why is a woman so impossible? Does
+nothing matter to her but tangible success? Do care and consideration
+carry no weight? Even matched against the blackguardly egoism of what you
+call genius?--Or will you tell me that he considered you? Didn't he treat
+you from beginning to end like the scoundrel he was?"
+
+She raised hostile eyes. "You have no right to say that," she said in a
+small, icy voice, which seemed to put him at an infinite distance from
+her. "You are not able to judge him. You didn't know him as . . . as I
+did."
+
+With the last words a deeper note came into her voice, and this was all
+Maurice heard. A frenzied fear seized him.
+
+"Louise!" he cried violently. "You care for him still!"
+
+She started, and raised her arms, as if to ward off a blow. "I don't . . .
+I don't . . . God knows I don't! I hate him--you know I do!" She had
+clapped both hands to her face, and held them there. When she looked up
+again, she was able to speak as quietly as before. "But do you want to
+make me hate you, too? Do you think it gives me a higher opinion of you,
+to hear you talk like that about some one I once cared for? How can I find
+it anything but ungenerous?--Yes, you are right, he WAS different--in
+every way. He didn't know what it meant to be envious of anyone. He was
+as different from you as day from night."
+
+Maurice was hurt to the quick. "Now I know your real opinion of me! Till
+now you have been considerate enough to hide it. But to-night I have heard
+it from your own lips. You despise me!"
+
+"Well, you drove me to say it," she burst out, wounded in her turn. "I
+should never have said it of my own accord--never! Oh, how ungenerous you
+are! It's not the first time you've goaded me into saying something, and
+then turned round on me for it. You seem to enjoy finding out things you
+can feel hurt by.--But have I ever complained? Did I not take you just as
+you were, and love you--yes, love you! I knew you couldn't be
+different--that it wasn't your fault if you were faint-hearted and . . .
+and--But you?--what do you do? You talk as if you worship the ground I
+walk on: but you can't let me alone. You are always trying to change
+me--to make me what you think I ought to be."
+
+Her words came in haste, stumbling one over the other, as it became plain
+to her how deeply this grievance, expressed now for the first time, had
+eaten into her soul. "You've never said to yourself, she's what she is
+because it's her nature to be. You want to remake my nature and correct
+it. You are always believing something is wrong. You knew very well, long
+ago, that the best part of me had belonged to some one else. You swore it
+didn't matter. But to-night, because there's absolutely nothing else you
+can cavil at, you drag it up again--in spite of your promises. I have
+always been frank with you. Do you thank me for it? No, it's been my old
+fault of giving everything, when it would have been wiser to keep
+something back, or at least to pretend to. I might have taken a lesson
+from you, in parsimonious reserve. For there's a part of you, you couldn't
+give away--not if you lived with a person for a hundred years."
+
+Of all she said, the last words stung him most.
+
+"Yes, and why?" he cried. "Ask yourself why I You are unjust, as only a
+woman can be. You say there's a part of me you don't know. If that's true,
+what does it mean? It means you don't want to know it. You don't want it
+even to exist. You want everything to belong to you. You don't care for me
+well enough to be interested in that side of my life which has nothing to
+do with you. Your love isn't strong enough for that."
+
+"Love!--need we talk about love?" Her face was so unhappy that it
+seerned to have grown years older. "Love is something quite different. It
+takes everything just as it is. You have never reaily loved me.".
+
+"I have never really loved you?"
+
+He repeated the words after her, as if he did not understand them, and
+with his right hand grasped the table; the ground seemed to be slipping
+from under his feet. But Louise did not offer to retract what she had
+said, and Maurice had a moment of bewilderment: there, not three yards
+from him, sat the woman who was the centre of his life; Louise sat there,
+and with all appearance of believing it, could cast doubts on his love for
+her. At the thought of it, he was exasperated.
+
+"I not love you!"
+
+His voice was rough, had escaped control. "You have only to lift your
+finger, and I'll throw myself from that window on to the pavement."
+
+Louise sat as if turned to stone.
+
+"Don't you hear?" he cried more loudly. "Look up! . . . tell me to do it!"
+
+Still she did not move.
+
+"Louise, Louise!" he implored, throwing himself down before her. "Speak to
+me! Don't you hear me?--Louise!"
+
+"Oh, yes, I hear," she said at last. "I hear how ready you are with
+promises you know you will not be asked to keep. But the small, everyday
+things--those are what you won't do for me."
+
+"Tell me . . . tell me what I shall do!"
+
+"All I ask of you is to be happy. And to let me be happy, too."
+
+He stammered promises and entreaties. Never, never again!--if only this
+once she would forgive him; if only she would smile at him, and let the
+light come back to her eyes. He had not been responsible for his actions
+this evening.
+
+"It was more of a strain than I knew. And after it was over, I had to vent
+my disappointment somehow; and it was you, poor darling, who suffered.
+Forgive me, Louise!--But try, dear, a little to understand why it was.
+Can't you see that I was only like that through fear--yes, fear!--that
+somehow you might slip from me. I can't help feeling, one day you will
+have had enough of me, and will see me for what I really am."
+
+He tried to put his arms round her, but she held back: she had no
+desire to be reconciled. The sole response she made to his beseeching
+words was: "I want to be happy."
+
+"But you shall.--Do you think I live for anything else? Only forgive me!
+Remember the happiest hours we have spent together. Come back to me; be
+mine again! Tell me I am forgiven."
+
+He was in despair; he could not get at her, under her coating of
+insensibility. And since his words had no power to move her, he took to
+kissing her hands. She left them limply in his; she did not resist him.
+From this, he drew courage: he began to treat her more inconsiderately,
+compelling her to bend down to him, making her feel his strength; and he
+did not cease his efforts till her head had sunk forward, heavy and
+submissive, on his shoulder.
+
+They were at peace again: and the joys of reconciliation seemed almost
+worth the price they had paid for them.
+
+
+
+
+V.
+
+
+
+The following morning, having drunk his coffee, Maurice pushed back the
+metal tray on which the delf-ware stood, and remained sitting idle with
+his hands before him. It was nine o'clock, and the houses across the road
+were beginning to catch stray sunbeams. By this time, his daily work was
+as a rule in full swing; but to-day he was in no hurry to commence. He was
+even more certain now than he had been on the night before, of his lack of
+success; and the idea of starting anew on the dull round filled him with
+distaste. He had been so confident that his playing would, in some way or
+other, mark a turning-point in his musical career; and lo! it had gone off
+with as little fizz and effect as a damp rocket. Lighting a cigarette, he
+indulged in ironical reflections. But, none the less, he heard the minutes
+ticking past, and as he was not only a creature of habit, but had also a
+troublesome northern conscience, he rose before the cigarette had formed
+its second spike of ash, and went to the piano: no matter how rebellious
+he felt, this was the only occupation open to him; and so he set staunchly
+out on the unlovely mechanical exercising, which no pianist can escape.
+Meanwhile, he recapitulated the scene in the concert hall, from the few
+anticipatory moments, when the 'cellist related amatory adventures, to the
+abrupt leave he had taken of Dove at the door of the building. And in the
+course of doing this, he was invaded by a mild and agreeable doubt. On
+such shadowy impressions as these had he built up his assumption of
+failure! Was it possible to be so positive? The unreal state of mind in
+which he had played, hindered him from acting as his own judge. The fact
+that Schwarz had not been effusive, and that none of his friends had
+sought him out, admitted of more than one interpretation. The only real
+proof he had was Dove's manner to him; and was not Dove always too full of
+his own affairs, or, at least, the affairs of those who were not present
+at the moment, to have any at tention to spare for the person he was
+actually with? At the idea that he was perhaps mistaken, Maurice grew so
+unsettled that he rose from the piano. But, by the time he took his seat
+again, he had wavered; say what he would, he could not get rid of
+the belief that if he had achieved anything out of the common, Madeleine
+would not have made it her business to avoid him. After this, however, his
+fluctuating hopes rallied, then sank once more, until it ended in his
+leaving the piano. For it was of no use trying to concentrate his thoughts
+until he knew.
+
+Even as he said this to himself, his resolution was taken. There was only
+one person to whom he could apply, and that was Schwarz. The proceeding
+might be unusual, but then the circumstances in which he was placed were
+unusual, too. Besides, he asked neither praise nor flattery, merely a
+candid opinion.
+
+If, however, he faced Schwarz on this point, there were others on which he
+might as well get certainty at the same time. The matter of the PRUFUNG,
+for instance, had still to be decided. So much depended on the choice of
+piece. His fingers itched towards Chopin or Mendelssohn, for the sole
+reason that the technique of these composers was in his blood. Whereas
+Beethoven!--he knew from experience how difficult it was to get a
+satisfactory effect out of the stern barenesses of Beethoven. They
+demanded a skill he could never hope to possess.
+
+Between five and six that afternoon, he made his way to the SEBASTIAN
+BACH-STRASSE, where Schwarz lived. It was hot in the new, shadeless
+streets through which he passed, and also in crossing the JOHANNAPARK;
+hardly a hint of September was in the air. He walked at a slow pace, in
+order not to arrive too early, and, for some reason unclear to himself,
+avoided stepping on the joins of the paving-stones.
+
+On hearing that he had not come for a lesson, the dirty maidservant, who
+opened the third-floor door to him, showed him as a visitor into the best
+sitting-room. Maurice remained standing, in prescribed fashion. But he had
+no sooner crossed the threshold than he was aware of loud voices in the
+adjoining room, separated from the one he was in by large foldingdoors.
+
+"If you think," said a woman's voice, and broke on "think"--"if you think
+I'm going to endure a repetition of what happened two years ago, you're
+mistaken. Never again shall she enter this house! Oh, you pig, you wretch!
+Klara has told me; she saw you through the keyhole--with your arm round
+her waist. And I know myself, scarcely a note was struck in the hour. You
+have her here on any pretext; you keep her in the class after all the
+others have gone. But this time I'm not going to sit still till the
+scandal comes out, and she has to leave the place. A man of your
+age!--the father of four children!--and this ugly little hussy of
+seventeen! Was there ever such a miserable woman as I am! No, she shall
+never enter this house again."
+
+"And I say she shall!" came from Schwarz so fiercely that the listener
+started. "Aren't you ashamed, woman, at your age, to set a servant spying
+at keyholes?--or, what is more likely, spying yourself? Keep to your
+kitchen and your pots, and don't dictate to me. I am the master of the
+house."
+
+"Not in a case like this. It concerns me. It concerns the children. I say
+she shall never enter the door again."
+
+"And I say she shall. Go out of the room!"
+
+A chair grated roughly on a bare floor; a door banged with such violence
+that every other door in the house vibrated.
+
+In the silence that ensued, Maurice endeavoured to make his presence known
+by walking about. But no one came. His eyes ranged round the room. It was,
+with a few slight differences, the ordinary best room of the ordinary
+German house. The windows were heavily curtained, and, in front of them,
+to the further exclusion of light and air, stood respectively a
+flower-table, laden with unlovely green plants, and a room-aquarium. The
+plush furniture was stiffly grouped round an oblong table and dotted with
+crochet-covers; under a glass shade was a massy bunch of wax flowers; a
+vertikow, decorated with shells and grasses, stood cornerwise beside the
+sofa; and, at the door, rose white and gaunt a monumental Berlin stove.
+But, in addition to this, which was DE RIGUEUR, there were personal
+touches: on the walls, besides the usual group of family photographs, in
+oval frames, hung the copy of a Madonna by Gabriel Max, two etchings after
+Defregger, several large group-photographs of Schwarz's classes in
+different years, a framed concert programme, yellow with age, and a
+silhouette of Schumann. Over one of the doors hung a withered laurelwreath
+of imposing dimensions, and with faded silken ends, on which the
+inscription was still legible: DEM GROSSEN KUNSTLER, JOHANNES
+SCHWARZ!--Open on a chair, with an embroidered book-marker between its
+pages, lay ATTA TROLL; and by the stove, a battered wooden doll sat
+against the wall, in a relaxed attitude, with a set leer on its painted
+face.
+
+Maurice waited, in growing embarrassment. He had unconsciously fixed his
+eyes on the doll; and, in the dead silence of the house, the senseless
+face of the creature ruffled his nerves; crossing the room, he knocked it
+over with his foot, so that its head fell with a bump on the
+parquet floor, where it lay in a still more tipsy position. There was no
+doubt that he had arrived at a most inopportune moment; it seemed, too, as
+if the servant had forgotten even to announce him.
+
+On cautiously opening the door, with the idea of slipping away, he heard a
+child screaming in a distant room, and the mother's voice sharp in rebuke.
+The servant was clattering pots and pans in the kitchen, but she heard
+Maurice, and put her head out of the door. Her face was red and swollen
+with crying.
+
+"What!--you still here?" she said rudely. "I'd forgotten all about you."
+
+"It doesn't matter--another time," murmured Maurice.
+
+But the girl had spoken in a loud voice to make herself heard above the
+screaming, which was increasing in volume, and, at her words, a door at
+the end of the passage, and facing down it, was opened by about an inch,
+and Frau Schwarz peered through the slit.
+
+"Who is it?"
+
+The servant tossed her head, and made no reply. She went back into her
+kitchen, and, after a brief absence, during which Frau Schwarz continued
+surreptitiously to scrutinise Maurice, came out carrying a large plateful
+of BERLINER PFANNKUCHEN. With these she crossed to an opposite room, and,
+as she there planked the plate down on the table, she announced the
+visitor. A surly voice muttered something in reply. As, however, the girl
+insisted in her sulky way, on the length of time the young man had waited,
+Schwarz called out stridently: "Well, then, in God's name, let him come
+in! And Klara, you tell my wife, if that noise isn't stopped, I'll throw
+either her or you downstairs."
+
+Klara appeared again, scarlet with anger, jerked her arm at Maurice, to
+signify that he might do the rest for himself, and, retreating into her
+kitchen, slammed the door. Left thus, with no alternative, Maurice drew
+his heels together, gave the customary rap, and went into the room.
+
+Schwarz was sitting at the table with his head on his hand, tracing the
+pattern of the cloth with the blade of his knife. A coffee-service stood
+on a tray before him; he had just refilled his cup, and helped himself
+from the dish of PFANNKUCHEN, which, freshly baked, sent an inviting odour
+through the room. He hardly looked up on Maurice's entrance, and cut short
+the young man's apologetic beginnings.
+
+"Well, what is it? What brings you here?"
+
+As Maurice hesitated before the difficulty of plunging offhand into the
+object of his visit, Schwarz pointed with his knife at a chair: he could
+not speak, for he had just put the best part of a PFANNKUCHEN in his
+mouth, and was chewing hard. Maurice sat down, and holding his hat by the
+brim, proceeded to explain that he had called on a small personal matter,
+which would not occupy more than a minute of the master's time.
+
+"It's in connection with last night that I wished to speak to you, Herr
+Professor," he said: the title, which was not Schwarz's by right, he knew
+to be a sop. "I should be much obliged to you if you would give me your
+candid opinion of my playing. It's not easy to judge oneself--although I
+must say, both at the time, and afterwards, I was not too well pleased
+with what I had done--that is to say . . ."
+
+"WIE? WAS?" cried Schwarz, and threw a hasty glance at his pupil, while he
+helped himself anew from the dish.
+
+Maurice uncrossed his legs, and crossed them again, the same one up.
+
+"My time here comes to an end at Easter, Herr Professor. And it's
+important for me to learn what you think of the progress I have made since
+being with you. I don't know why," he added less surely, "but of late I
+haven't felt satisfied with myself. I seem to have got a certain length
+and to have stuck there. I should like to know if you have noticed it,
+too. If so, does the fault lie with my want of talent, or--"
+
+"Or with ME, perhaps?" broke in Schwarz, who had with difficulty thus far
+restrained himself. He laughed offensively. "With ME--eh?" He struck
+himself on the chest, several times in succession, with the butt-end of
+his knife, that there might be no doubt to whom he referred. "Upon my
+soul, what next I wonder!--what next!" He ceased to laugh, and grew
+ungovernably angry. "What the devil do you mean by it? Do you think I've
+nothing better to do, at the end of a hard day's work, than to sit here
+and give candid opinions, and discuss the progress made by each strummer
+who comes to me twice a week for a lesson? Oho, if you are of that
+opinion, you may disabuse your mind of it! I'm at your service on Tuesday
+and Friday afternoon, when I am paid to be; otherwise, my time is my own."
+
+He laid two of the cakes on top of each other, sliced them through, and
+put one of the pieces thus obtained in his mouth. Maurice had
+risen, and stood waiting for the breathing-space into which he could
+thrust words of apology.
+
+"I beg your pardon, Herr Professor," he now began. "You misunderstand me.
+Nothing was further from my mind than----"
+
+But Schwarz had not finished speaking; he rapped the table with his
+knife-handle, and, working himself up to a white heat, continued: "But
+plain and plump, I'll tell you this, Herr Guest"--he pronounced it
+"Gvest." "If you are not satisfied with me, and my teaching, you're at
+liberty to try some one else. If this is a preliminary to inscribing
+yourself under that miserable humbug, that wretched charlatan, who
+pretends to teach the piano, do it, and have done with it! No one will
+hinder you--certainly not I. You're under no necessity to come here
+beforehand, and apologise, and give your reasons--none of the others did.
+Slink off like them, without a word! it's the more decent way in the long
+run. They at least knew they were behaving like blackguards."
+
+"You have completely misunderstood me, Herr Schwarz. If you will give me a
+moment to explain----"
+
+But Schwarz was in no mood for explanations; he went on again, paying no
+heed to Maurice's interruption.
+
+"Who wouldn't rather break stones by the roadside than be a teacher?" he
+asked, and sliced and ate, sliced and ate. "Look at the years of labour I
+have behind me--twenty and more!--in which I've toiled to the best of my
+ability, eight and nine hours, day after day, and eternally for ends that
+weren't my own!--And what return do I get for it? A new-comer only needs
+to wave a red flag before them, and all alike rush blindly to him. A pupil
+of Liszt?--bah! Who was Liszt? A barrel-organ of execution; a perverter of
+taste; a worthy ally of that upstart who ruined melody, harmony, and form.
+Don't talk to me of Liszt!"
+
+He spoke in spurts, blusteringly, but indistinctly, owing to the fullness
+of his mouth.
+
+"But I'm not to be imposed on. I know their tricks. Haven't I myself had
+pupils turn to me from Bulow and Rubinstein? Is that not proof enough?
+Would they have come if they hadn't known what my method was worth? And I
+took them, and spared no pains to make something of them. Haven't I a
+right to expect some gratitude from them in return?--Gratitude? Such a
+thing doesn't exist; it's a word without meaning, a puffing of the air.
+Look at him for whom I did more than for all the rest. Did I take
+a pfennig from him in payment?--when I saw that he had talent? Not I! And
+I did it all. When he came to me, he couldn't play a scale. I gave him
+extra lessons without charge, I put pupils in his way, I got him
+scholarships, I enabled him to support his family--they would have been
+beggars in the street, but for me. And now soon will be! Yes, I have had
+his mother here, weeping at my feet, imploring me to reason with him and
+bring him back to his senses. SHE sees where his infamy will land them.
+But I? I snap my fingers in his face. He has sown, and he shall reap his
+sowing.--But the day will come, I know it, when he will return to me, and
+all the rest will follow him, like the sheep they are. Let them come!
+They'll see then whether I have need of them or not. They'll see then what
+they were worth to me. For I can produce others others, I say!--who will
+put him and his fellows out of the running. Do they think I'm done for,
+because of this? I'll show them the contrary. I'll show them! Why, I set
+no more store by the lot of you than I do by this plate of cakes!"
+
+Again he ate voraciously, and for a few moments, the noise his jaws made
+in working was the only sound in the room. Maurice stood in the same
+attitude, with his hat in his hand.
+
+"I regret more than I can express, having been the cause of annoying you,
+Herr Professor," he said at length with stiff formality. "But I should
+like to repeat, once more, that my only object in coming here was to speak
+to you about last night. I felt dissatisfied with myself and . . ."
+
+"Dissatisfied?" echoed Schwarz, bringing his jaws together with a snap.
+"And what business of yours is it to feel dissatisfied, I'd like to know?
+Leave that to me! You'll hear soon enough, I warrant you, when I have
+reason to be dissatisfied. Until then, do me the pleasure of minding your
+own business."
+
+"Excuse me," said Maurice with warmth, "if this isn't my own
+business! . . . As I see it, it's nobody's but mine. And it seemed to me
+natural to appeal to you, as the only person who could decide for me
+whether I should have anything further to do with art, or whether I should
+throw it up altogether."
+
+Schwarz, who was sometimes not averse to a spirited opposition, caught at
+the one unlucky word on which he could hang his scorn.
+
+"ART!" he repeated with jocose emphasis--he had finished the plate of
+cakes, risen from the table, and was picking teeth at the window.
+"Art!--pooh, pooh!--what's art got to do with it? In your place, I should
+avoid taking such highflown words on my tongue. Call it something else. Do
+you think it makes a jot of difference whether you call it art or . . .
+pludderdump? Not so much"--and he snapped his fingers--"will be changed,
+though you never call it anything! Vanity!--it's nothing but vanity! A set
+of raw youths inflate themselves like frogs, and have opinions on art, as
+on what they have eaten for their dinner.--Do your work and hold your
+tongue! A scale well played is worth all the words that were ever
+said--and that, the majority of you can't do."
+
+He closed his tootpick with a snap, spat dexterously at a spittoon which
+stood in a corner of the room, and the interview was over.
+
+As Maurice descended the spiral stair, he said to himself that, no matter
+how long he remained in Leipzig, he would never trouble Schwarz with his
+presence again. The man was a loose-mouthed bully. But in future he might
+seek out others to be the butt of his clumsy wit. He, Maurice, was too
+good for that.--And squaring his shoulders, he walked erectly down the
+street, and across the JOHANNAPARK.
+
+But none the less, he did not go straight home. For, below the comedy of
+intolerance at which he was playing, lurked, as he well knew, the
+consciousness that his true impression of the past hour had still to be
+faced. He might postpone doing this; he could not shirk it. It was all
+very well: he might repeat to himself that he had happened on Schwarz at
+an inopportune moment. That did not count. For him, Maurice, the opportune
+moment simply did not exist; he was one of those people who are always
+inopportune, come and go as they will. He might have waited for days; he
+would never have caught Schwarz in the right mood, or in the nick of time.
+How he envied those fortunate mortals who always arrived at the right
+moment, and instinctively said the right thing! That talent had never been
+his. With him it was blunder.
+
+One thing, though, that still perplexed him, was that not once, since he
+had been in Leipzig, had he caught a glimpse of that native goodness of
+heart, for which he had heard Schwarz lauded. The master had done his duty
+by him--nothing more. Neither had had any personal feeling for the other;
+and the words Schwarz had used this afternoon had only been the outcome of
+a long period of reserve, even of distrust. At this moment, when
+he was inclined to take the onus of the misunderstanding on his own
+shoulders, Maurice admitted, besides his constant preoccupation--or
+possibly just because of it--an innate lack of sympathy in himself, an
+inability, either of heart or of imagination, to project himself into the
+lives and feelings of people he did not greatly care for. Otherwise, he
+would not have gone to Schwarz on such an errand as today's; he would have
+remembered that the master was likely to be sore and suspicious. And, from
+now on, things would be worse instead of better. Schwarz had no doubt been
+left under the impression that Maurice had wished to complain of his
+teaching; and impressions of this nature were difficult to erase.
+
+There was nothing to be done, however, but to plod along in the familiar
+rut. He must stomach aspersions and injuries, behave as if nothing had
+happened. His first hot intention of turning his back on Schwarz soon
+yielded to more worldly-wise thoughts. Every practical consideration was
+against it. He might avenge himself, if he liked, by running to the rival
+teacher like a crossed child; Schrievers would undoubtedly receive him
+with open arms, and promise him all he asked. But what could he hope to
+accomplish, under a complete change of method, in the few months that were
+left? He would also have to forfeit his fees for the coming term, which
+were already paid. Schrievers' lessons were expensive, and out of the
+small sum that remained to him to live on, it would be impossible to take
+more than half a dozen. Another than he might have appealed to Schrievers'
+satisfaction in securing a fresh convert; but Maurice had learnt too
+thoroughly by now, that he was not one of those happy
+exceptions--exceptions by reason of their talent or their temperament--to
+whom a master was willing to devote his time free of charge.
+
+Over these reflections night had fallen; and rising, he walked speedily
+back by the dark wood-paths. But before he reached the meadows, from which
+he could see lights blinking in the scattered villas, his steps had lagged
+again. His discouragement had nothing chimerical in it at this moment; it
+was part and parcel of himself.--The night was both chilly and misty, and
+it was late. But a painful impression of the previous evening lingered in
+his mind. Louise would be annoyed with him for keeping her waiting; and he
+shrank, in advance, from the thought of another disagreeable scene. He was
+not in the mood to-night, to soothe and console.
+
+As he entered the MOZARTSTRASSE, he saw that there was a light in
+Madeleine's window. She was at home, then. He imagined her sitting quiet
+and busy in her pleasant room, which, except for the ring of lamplight,
+was sunk in peaceful shadow. This was what he needed: an hour's rest, dim
+light, and Madeleine's sympathetic tact.
+
+Without giving himself time for thought, he mounted the stair and pressed
+the bell-knob on the third floor.
+
+On seeing who her visitor was, Madeleine rose with alacrity from the
+writing-table.
+
+"Maurice! Is it really you?"
+
+"I was passing. I thought I would run up . . . you're surprised to see
+me?"
+
+"Oh, well--you're a stranger now, you know."
+
+She was vexed with herself for showing astonishment. Moving some books,
+she made room for him to sit down on the sofa, and, as he was moody, and
+seemed in no hurry to state why he had come, she asked if she might finish
+the letter she was writing.
+
+"Make yourself comfortable. Here's a cushion for your head."
+
+Through half-closed eyes, he watched her hand travelling across the sheet
+of note-paper, and returning at regular intervals, with a sure swoop, to
+begin a fresh line. There was no sound except the gentle scratching of her
+pen.
+
+Madeleine did not look up till she had finished her letter and addressed
+the envelope. Maurice had shut his eyes.
+
+"Are you asleep?" she roused him. "Or only tired?"
+
+"I've a headache."
+
+"I'll make you some tea."
+
+He watched her preparing it, and, by the time she handed him his cup, he
+was in the right mood for making her his confidant.
+
+"Look here, Madeleine," he said; "I came up to-night--The fact is, I've
+done a foolish thing. And I want to talk to some one about it."
+
+Her eyes grew more alert.
+
+"Let me see if I can help you."
+
+He shook his head. "I'm afraid you can't. But first of all, tell me
+frankly, how you thought I got on last night."
+
+"How you got on?" echoed Madeleine, unclear what this was to lead to.
+"Why, all right, of course.--Oh, well, if you insist on the truth!--The
+fact is, Maurice, you did no better and no worse than the majority of
+those who fill the ABEND programmes. What you didn't do, was to reach the
+standard your friends had set up for you."
+
+"Thanks. Now listen," and he related to her in detail his misadventure of
+the afternoon.
+
+Madeleine followed with close attention. But more distinctly than what he
+said, she heard what he did not say. His account of the two last days,
+with the unintentional sidelight it threw on just those parts he wished to
+keep in darkness, made her aware how complicated and involved his life had
+become. But before he finished speaking, she brought all her practical
+intelligence to bear on what he said.
+
+"Maurice!" she exclaimed, with a consternation that was three parts
+genuine. "I should like to shake you. How COULD you!--what induced you to
+do such a foolish thing?" And, as he did not speak: "If only you had come
+to me before, instead of after! I should have said: hold what ridiculous
+opinions you like yourself, but for goodness' sake keep clear of Schwarz
+with them. Yes, ridiculous, and offensive, too. Anyone would have taken
+your talk about being dissatisfied just as he did. And after the way he
+has been treated of late, he's of course doubly touchy."
+
+"I knew that, when it was too late. But I meant merely to speak straight
+out to him, Madeleine--one man to another. You surely don't want to say
+he's incapable of allowing one to have an independent opinion? If that's
+the case, then he's nothing but the wretched little tyrant Heinz declares
+him to be."
+
+"Wait till you have taught as long as he has," said Madeleine, and, at his
+muttered: "God forbid!" she continued with more warmth: "You'll know then,
+too, that it doesn't matter whether your pupils have opinions or not. He
+has seen this kind of thing scores of times before, and knows it must be
+kept down."
+
+She paused, and looked at him. "To get on in life, one must have a certain
+amount of tact. You are too naive, Maurice, too unsuspecting--one of those
+people who would like to carry on social intercourse on a basis of
+absolute truth, and then be surprised that it came to an end. You are
+altogether a very difficult person to deal with. You are either too
+candid, or too reserved. There's no middle way in you. I haven't the least
+doubt that Schwarz finds you both perplexing and irritating; he takes the
+candour for impertinence, and the reserve for distrust."
+
+Maurice smiled faintly. "Go on--don't spare me. No one ever
+troubled before to tell me my failings."
+
+"Oh, I'm quite in earnest. As I look at it, it's entirely your own fault
+that you don't stand better with Schwarz. You have never condescended to
+humour him, as you ought to have done. You thought it was enough to be
+truthful and honest, and to leave the rest to him. Well, it wasn't. I
+won't hear a word against Schwarz; he's goodness itself to those who
+deserve it. A little bluff and rude at times; but he's too busy to go
+about in kid gloves for fear of hurting sensitive people's feelings."
+
+"Why did you never take private lessons from him?" was her next question.
+"I told you months ago, you remember, that you ought to.--Oh, yes, you
+said they were too expensive, I know, but you could have scraped a few
+marks together somehow. You managed to buy books, and books were quite
+unnecessary. One lesson a fortnight would have brought you' more into
+touch with Schwarz than all you have had in the class. As it is, you don't
+know him any better than he knows you. "And as she refilled his tea-cup,
+she added: "You quoted Heinz to me just now. But you and I can't afford to
+measure people by the same standards as Heinz. We are everyday mortals,
+remember.--Besides, in all that counts, he is not worth Schwarz's little
+finger."
+
+"You're a warm advocate, Madeleine."
+
+"Yes, and I've reason to be. No one here has been as kind to me as
+Schwarz. I came, a complete stranger, and with not more than ordinary
+talent. But I went to him, and told him frankly what I wanted to do, how
+long I could stay, and how much money I had to spend. He helped me and
+advised me. He has let me study what will be of most use to me afterwards,
+and he takes as much interest in my future as I do myself. How can I speak
+anything but well of him?--What I certainly didn't do, was to go to him
+and talk ambiguously about feeling dissatisfied with him . . ."
+
+"With myself, Madeleine. Haven't I made that clear?"
+
+But Madeleine only sniffed.
+
+"Well, it's over and done with now," she said after a pause. "And talking
+about it won't mend it.--Tell me, rather, what you intend to do. What are
+your plans?"
+
+"Plans? I don't know. I haven't any. Sufficient unto the day, etc."
+
+But of this she disapproved with open scorn. "Rubbish! When your
+time here is all but up! And no plans!--One thing, I can tell you anyhow,
+is, after to-day you needn't rely on Schwarz for assistance. You've spoilt
+your chances with him. The only way of repairing the mischief would be the
+lesson I spoke of--one a week as long as you re here."
+
+"I couldn't afford it."
+
+"No, I suppose not," she said sarcastically, and tore a piece of paper
+that came under her fingers into narrow strips. "Tell me," she added a
+moment later, in a changed tone: "where do you intend to settle when you
+return to England? And have you begun to think of advertising yourself
+yet?"
+
+He waved his hand before his face as if he were chasing away a fly. "For
+God's sake, Madeleine! . . . these alluring prospects!"
+
+"Pray, what else do you expect to do?"
+
+"Well, the truth is, I . . . I'm not going back to England at all. I mean
+to settle here."
+
+Madeleine repressed the exclamation that rose to her lips, and stooped to
+brush something off the skirt of her dress. Her face was red when she
+raised it. She needed no further telling; she understood what his words
+implied as clearly as though it were printed black on white before her.
+But she spoke in a casual tone.
+
+"However are you going to make that possible?"
+
+He endeavoured to explain.
+
+"I don't envy you," she said drily, when he had finished. "You hardly
+realise what lies before you, I think. There are people here who are glad
+to get fifty pfennigs an hour, for piano lessons. Think of plodding up and
+down stairs, all day long, for fifty pfennigs an hour!"
+
+He was silent.
+
+"While in England, with a little tact and patience, you would soon have
+more pupils than you could take at five shillings."
+
+"Tact and patience mean push and a thick skin. But don't worry! I shall
+get on all right. And if I don't--life's short, you know."
+
+"But you are just at: the beginning of it--and ridiculously young at that!
+Good Heavens, Maurice!" she burst out, unable to contain herself. "Can't
+you see that after you've been at home again for a little while, things
+that have seemed so important here will have. shrunk into their right
+places? You'll be glad to have done with them then, when you are in
+orderly circumstances again."
+
+"I'm afraid not," answered the young man. "I'm not a good
+forgetter."
+
+"A good forgetter!" repeated Madeleine, and laughed sarcastically. She was
+going on to say more, but, just at this moment, a clock outside struck
+ten, and Maurice sprang to his feet.
+
+"So late already? I'd no idea. I must be off."
+
+She stood by, and watched him look for his hat.
+
+"Here it is." She picked it up, and handed it to him, with an emphasised
+want of haste.
+
+"Good night, Madeleine. Thanks for the truth. I knew I could depend on
+you."
+
+"It was well meant. And the truth is always beneficial, you know. Good
+night.--Come again, soon."
+
+He heard her last words half-way down the stairs, which he took two at a
+time.
+
+The hour he had now to face was a painful ending to an unpleasant day. It
+was not merely the fact that he had kept Louise waiting, in aching
+suspense, for several hours. It now came out that, after their
+disagreement of the previous night, she had confidently expected him to
+return to her early in the day, had expected contrition and atonement.
+That he had not even suspected this made her doubly bitter against him. In
+vain he tried to excuse himself, to offer explanations. She would not
+listen to him, nor would she let him touch her. She tore her dress from
+between his fingers, brushed his hand off her arm; and, retreating into a
+corner of the room, where she stood like an animal at bay, she poured out
+over him her accumulated resentment. All she had ever suffered at his
+hands, all the infinitesimal differences there had been between them, from
+the beginning, the fine points in which he had failed--things of which he
+had no knowledge--all these were raked up and cast at him till, numb with
+pain, he lost even the wish to comfort her. Sitting down at the table, he
+laid his head on his folded arms.
+
+At his feet were the fragments of the little clock, which, in her anger at
+his desertion of her, she had trodden to pieces.
+
+
+
+
+VI.
+
+
+
+Their first business the next morning was to buy another clock. By
+daylight, Louise was full of remorse at what she had done, and in passing
+the writing-table, averted her eyes. They went out early to a shop in the
+GRIMMAISCHESTRASSE; and Maurice stood by and watched her make her choice.
+
+She loved to buy, and entered into the purchase with leisurely enjoyment.
+The shopman and his assistant spared themselves no trouble in fetching and
+setting out their wares. Louise handled each clock as it was put before
+her, discussed the merits of different styles, and a faint colour mounted
+to her cheeks over the difficulty of deciding between two which she liked
+equally well. She had pushed up her veil; it swathed her forehead like an
+Eastern woman's. Her eagerness, which was expressed in a slight
+unsteadiness of nostril and lip, would have had something childish in it,
+had it not been for her eyes. They remained heavy and unsmiling; and the
+disquieting half-rings below them were more bluely brown than ever.
+Leaning sideways. against the counter, Maurice looked away from them to
+her hands; her fingers were entirely without ornament, and he would have
+liked to load them with rings. As it was, he could not even pay for the
+clock she chose; it cost more than he had to spend in a month.
+
+In the street again, she said she was hungry, and, glad to be able to add
+his mite to her pleasure, he took her by the arm and steered her to the
+CAFE FRANCAIS, where they had coffee and ices. The church-steeples were
+booming eleven when they emerged; it did not seem worth while going home
+and settling down to work. Instead, they went to the ROSENTAL.
+
+It was a brilliant autumn day, rich in light and shade, and there was only
+a breath abroad of the racy freshness that meant subsequent decay. The
+leaves were turning red and orange, but had not begun to fall; the sky was
+deeply blue; outlines were sharp and precise. They were both in a mood
+this morning to be susceptible to their surroundings; they were even eager
+to be affected by them, and made happy. The disagreements of the two
+preceding nights were like bad dreams, which they were anxious to
+forget, or at least to avoid thinking of. Her painful, unreasonable
+treatment of him, the evening before, had not been touched on between
+them; after his incoherent attempts to justify himself, after his bitter
+self-reproaches, when she lay sobbing in his arms, they had both, with
+one accord, been silent. Neither of them felt any desire for open-hearted
+explanations; they were careful not to stir up the depths anew. Louise was
+very quiet; had it not been for her eyes, he might have believed her
+happy. But here, just as an hour before in the watchmaker's shop, they
+brooded, unable to forget. And yet there was a pliancy about her this
+morning, a readiness to meet his wishes, which, as he walked at her side,
+made him almost content. The old, foolish dreams awoke in him again, and
+vistas opened, of a gentle comradeship, which might still come true, when
+the strenuous side of her love for him had worn itself out. If only an
+hour like the present could have lasted indefinitely!
+
+It was a happy morning. They ended it with an improvised lunch at the
+KAISERPARK; and it remained imprinted on their minds as an unexpected
+patch of colour, in an unending row of grey days, given up to duty.
+
+The next one, and the next again, Louise continued in the same yielding
+mood, which was wholly different from the emotional expansiveness of the
+past weeks. Maurice took a glad advantage of her willingness to please
+him, and they had several pleasant walks together: to Napoleon's
+battlefields; along the GRUNE GASSE and the POETENWEG to Schiller's house
+at Gohlis; and into the heart of the ROSENTAL--DAS WILDE ROSENTAL--where
+it was very solitary, and where the great trees seemed to stagger under
+their load of stained leaves.
+
+A burst of almost July radiance occurred at this time; and one day, Louise
+expressed a wish to go to the country, in order that, by once more being
+together for a whole day on end, they might relive in fancy the happy
+weeks they had spent on the Rochlitzer Berg. It was never her way to urge
+over-much, which made it hard to refuse her; so it was arranged that they
+should set off betimes the following Saturday.
+
+Maurice had his reward in the cry of pleasure she gave when he wakened her
+to tell her that it was a fine day.
+
+"Get up, dear! It's less than an hour till the train goes."
+
+For the first time for weeks, Louise was her impetuous self again. She
+threw things topsy-turvy in the room. It was he who drew her attention to
+an unfastened hook, and an unbound ribbon. She only pressed forward.
+
+"Make haste!--oh, make haste! We shall be late."
+
+An overpowering smell of newly-baked rolls issued from the bakers' shops,
+and the errand-boys were starting out with their baskets. Women and
+house-porters were coming out to wash pavements and entrances: the
+collective life of the town was waking up to another uneventful day; but
+they two were hastening off to long hours of sunlight and fresh air,
+unhampered by the passing of time, or by fallacious ideas of duty; were
+setting out for a new bit of world, to strange meals taken in strange
+places, reached by white roads, or sequestered wood-paths. In the train,
+they were crushed between the baskets of the marketwomen, who were
+journeying from one village to another. These sat with their wizened hands
+clasped on their high stomachs, or on the handles of their baskets, and
+stared, like stupid, placid animals, at the strange young foreign couple
+before them. Partly for the frolic of astonishing them, and also because
+he was happy at seeing Louise so happy, Maurice kissed her hand; but it
+was she who astonished them most. When she gave a cry, or used her hands
+with a sudden, vivid effect, or flashed her white teeth in a smile, every
+head in the carriage was turned towards her; and when, in addition, she
+was overtaken by a fit of loquacity, she was well-nigh devoured by eyes.
+
+They did not travel as far as they had intended. From the carriage window,
+she saw a wayside place that took her fancy.
+
+"Here, Maurice; let us get out here."
+
+Having breakfasted, and left their bags at an inn, they strayed at random
+along an inviting road lined with apple-trees. When Louise grew tired,
+they rested in the arbour of a primitive GASTHAUS, and ate their midday
+meal. Afterwards, in a wood, he spread a rug for her, and she lay in a
+nest of sun-spots. Only their own voices broke the silence. Then she fell
+asleep, and, until she opened her eyes again, and called to him in
+surprise, no sound was to be heard but the sudden, crisp rustling of some
+bird or insect. When evening fell, they returned to their lodging, ate
+their supper in the smoky public room--for, outside, mists had risen--and
+then before them stretched, undisturbed, the long evening and the longer
+night, to be spent in a strange room, of which they had hitherto not
+suspected the existence, but which, from now on, would be indissolubly
+bound up with their other memories.
+
+The first day passed in such a manner was as flawless as any they had
+known in the height of summer--with all the added attractions of closer
+intimacy. In its course, the shadows lifted from her eyes; and
+Maurice ceased to remember that he had made a mess of his affairs. But the
+very next one failed--as far as Louise was concerned--to reach the same
+level: it was like a flower ever so slightly overblown. The lyric charms
+that had so pleased her--the dewy freshness of the morning, the solitude,
+the unbroken sunshine--were frail things, and, snatched with too eager a
+hand, crumbled beneath the touch. They were not made to stand the wear and
+tear of repetition. It was also impossible, she found, to live through
+again days such as they had spent at Rochlitz; time past was past
+irrevocably, with all that belonged to it. And it was further, a mistake
+to believe that a more intimate acquaintance meant a keener pleasure; it
+was just the stimulus of strangeness, the piquancy of feeling one's way,
+that had made up half the fascination of the summer.
+
+With sure instinct, Louise recognised this, even while she exclaimed with
+delight. And her heart sank: not until this moment had she known how high
+her hopes had been, how firmly she had pinned her faith upon the revival
+of passion which these days were to bring to pass. The knowledge that this
+had been a delusion, was hard to bear. In thought, she was merciless to
+herself, when, on waking, the second morning, she looked with unexpectant
+eyes over the day that lay before her. Could nothing satisfy her, she
+asked herself? Could she not be content for twenty-four hours on end? Was
+it eternally her lot to come to the end of things, before they had
+properly begun? It seemed, always, as if she alone must be pressing
+forward, without rest. Here, on the second of these days of love and
+sunshine, she saw, with absolute clearness, that neither this nor any
+other day had anything extraordinary to give her; and sitting silent at
+dinner, under an arbour of highly-coloured creeper, she was overcome by
+such a laming discouragement, that she laid her knife and fork down, and
+could eat no more.
+
+Maurice, watching her across the table, believed that she was over-tired,
+and filled up her glass with wine.
+
+But she did not yield without a struggle. And it was not merely rebellion
+against the defects of her own nature, which prompted her. The prospect of
+the coming months filled her with dismay. When this last brief spell of
+pleasure was over, there was nothing left, to which she could look
+forward. The approaching winter stretched before her like a starless
+night; she was afraid to let her mind dwell on it. What was she to
+do?--what was to become of her, when the short dark days came down
+again, and shut her in? The thought of it almost drove her mad. Desperate
+with fear, she shut her eyes and went blindly forward, determined to
+extract every particle of pleasure, or, at least, of oblivion, that the
+present offered.
+
+Under these circumstances, the poor human element in their relations
+became once again, and more than ever before, the pivot on which their
+lives turned. Louise aimed deliberately at bringing this about. Further,
+she did what she had never yet done: she brought to bear on their
+intercourse all her own hardwon knowledge, and all her arts. She drew from
+her store of experience those trifling, yet weighty details, which, once
+she has learned them, a woman never forgets. And, in addition to this, she
+took advantage of the circumstances in which they found themselves,
+utilising to the full the stimulus of strange times and places: she fired
+the excitement that lurked in surreptitious embrace and surrender, under
+all the dangers of a possible surprise. She was perverse and capricious;
+she would turn away from him till she reduced him to despair; then to
+yield suddenly, with a completeness that threatened to undo them both. Her
+devices were never-ending. Not that they were necessary: for he was
+helpless in her hands when she assumed the mastery. But she could not
+afford to omit one of the means to her end, for she had herself to lash as
+well as him. And so, once more, as at the very beginning, hand grew to be
+a weight in hand, something alive, electric; and any chance contact might
+rouse a blast in them. She neither asked nor Showed mercy. Drop by drop,
+they drained each other of vitality, two sufferers, yet each thirsty for
+the other's life-blood; for, with this new attitude on her part, an
+element of cruelty had entered into their love. When, with her hands on
+his shoulders, her insatiable lips apart, Louise put back her head and
+looked at him, Maurice was acutely aware of the hostile feeling in her.
+But he, too, knew what it was; for, when he tried to urge prudence on her,
+she only laughed at him; and this low, reckless laugh, her savage eyes,
+and morbid pallor, invariably took from him every jot of concern.
+
+They returned to Leipzig towards the middle of the first week, in order
+not to make their absence too conspicuous. But they had arranged to go
+away again, on the following Saturday, and, in the present state of
+things, the few intervening days seemed endless. Louise shut herself up,
+and would see little of him.
+
+The next week, and the next again, were spent in the same fashion.
+A fine and mild October ran its course. For the fourth journey, towards
+the end of the month, they had planned to return to Rochlitz. At the last
+moment, however, Maurice opposed the scheme, and they left the train at
+Grimma. It was Friday, and a superb autumn day. They put up, not in the
+town itself, but at an inn about a mile and a half distant from it. This
+stood on the edge of a wood, was a favourite summer resort, and had lately
+been enlarged by an additional wing. Now, it was empty of guests save
+themselves. They occupied a large room in the new part of the building, at
+the end of a long corridor, which was shut off by a door from the rest of
+the house. They were utterly alone; there was no need for them even to
+moderate their voices. In the early morning hours, and on the journey
+there, Maurice had thought he noticed something unusual about Louise, and,
+more than once, he had asked her if her head ached. But soon he forgot his
+solicitude.
+
+Next morning, he felt an irresistible inclination to go out: opening the
+window, he leaned on the sill. A fresh, pleasant breeze was blowing; it
+bent the tops of the pines, and drove the white clouds smoothly over the
+sky. He suggested that they should walk to the ruined cloister of
+Nimbschen; but Louise responded very languidly, and he had to coax and
+persuade. By the time she was ready to leave the untidy room, the morning
+was more than half over, and the shifting clouds had balled themselves
+into masses. Before the two emerged from the wood, an even network of
+cloud had been drawn over the whole sky; it looked like rain.
+
+They walked as usual in silence, little or nothing being left to say, that
+seemed worth the exertion of speech. Each step cost Louise a visible
+effort; her arms hung slack at her sides; her very hands felt heavy. The
+pallor of her face had a greyish tinge in it. Maurice began to regret
+having hurried her out against her will.
+
+They were on a narrow path skirting a wood, when she suddenly expressed a
+wish for some tall bulrushes that grew beside a stream, some distance
+below. Maurice went down to the edge of the water and began to cut the
+rushes. But the ground was marshy, and the finest were beyond his reach.
+
+On the path at the top of the bank, Louise stood and followed his
+movements. She watched his ineffectual efforts to seize the further reeds,
+saw how they slipped back from between his hands; she watched him
+take out his knife and open it, endeavour once more to reach those he
+wanted, and, still unsuccessful, choose a dry spot to sit down on; saw him
+take off his boots and stockings, then rise and go cautiously out on the
+soft ground. Ages seemed to pass while she watched him do these trivial
+things; she felt as if she were gradually turning to stone as she stood.
+How long he was about it! How deliberately he moved! And she had the odd
+sensation, too, that she knew beforehand everything he would and would not
+do, just as if she had experienced it already. His movements were of an
+impossible circumstantiality, out of all proportion to the trifling
+service she had asked of him; for, at heart, she cared as little about the
+rushes as about anything else. But it was an unfortunate habit of his, and
+one she noticed more and more as time went on, to make much of paltry
+details, which, properly, should have been dismissed without a second
+thought. It implied a certain tactlessness, to underline the obvious in
+this fashion. The very way, for instance, he stretched out his arm,
+unclasped his knife, leant forward, and then stooped back to lay the cut
+reeds on the bank. Oh, she was tired!--tired to exasperation!--of his ways
+and actions--as tired as she was of his words, and of the thousand and one
+occurrences, daily repeated, that made up their lives. She would have
+liked to creep away, to hide herself in an utter seclusion; while,
+instead, it was her lot to assist, hour after hour, at making much of
+what, in the depths of her soul, did not concern her at all. Nothing, she
+felt, would ever really concern her again. She gazed fixedly before her,
+at him, too, but without seeing him, till her sight was blurred; trees and
+sky, stream and rushes, swam together in a formless maze. And all of a
+sudden, while she was still blind, there ran through her such an intense
+feeling of aversion, such a complete satedness with all she had of late
+felt and known, that she involuntarily took a step backwards, and pressed
+her palms together, in order to hinder herself from screaming aloud. She
+could bear it no longer. In a flash, she grasped that she was unable,
+utterly unable, to face the day that was before her. She knew in advance
+every word, every look and embrace that it held for her: rather than
+undergo them afresh, she would throw herself into the water at her feet.
+Anywhere, anywhere!--only to get away, to be alone, to cover her face and
+see no more! Her hand went to her throat; her breath refused to come; she
+shivered so violently that she was afraid she would fall to the ground.
+
+Maurice, all unsuspecting, sat with his back to her, and laced his
+boots.
+
+But he was startled into an exclamation, when he climbed the bank and saw
+the state she was in.
+
+"Louise! Good Heavens, what's the matter? Are you ill?"
+
+He took her by the arm, and shook her a little, to arrest her attention.
+
+"Maurice! . . . no!" Her voice was hoarse. "Oh, let me go home!"
+
+He repeated the words in amazed alarm. "But what is it, darling? Are you
+ill? Are you cold?--that you're trembling like this?"
+
+"No . . . yes. Oh, I want to go home !--back to Leipzig."
+
+"Why, of course, if you want to. At once."
+
+The rushes lay forgotten on the ground. Without further words, they
+hastened to the inn. There, Maurice helped her to throw her things into
+the bag she had not wholly unpacked, and, having paid the bill, led her,
+with the same feverish haste, through the woods and town to the
+railway-station. He was full of distressed concern for her, but hardly
+dared to show it. for, to all his questions, she only shook her head.
+Walking at his side, she dug her nails into her palms till she felt the
+blood come, in her effort to conceal and stifle the waves of almost
+physical repugnance that passed through her, making it impossible for her
+to bear even the touch of his hand. In the train, she leaned back in the
+corner, and, shutting her eyes, pretended to be asleep.
+
+They took a droschke home; the driver whipped up his horse; the landlady
+was called in to make the first fire of the season. Louise went to bed at
+once. She wanted nothing, she said, but to lie still in the darkened room.
+He should go away; she preferred to be alone. No, she was not ill, only
+tired, but so tired that she could not keep her eyes open. She needed
+rest: tomorrow she would be all right again. He should please, please,
+leave her, and go away. And, turning her face to the wall, she drew the
+bedclothes over her head.
+
+At his wits' end to know what it all meant, Maurice complied. But at home
+in his room, he could settle to nothing; he trembled at every footstep on
+the stair. No message came, however, and when he had seen her again that
+evening, he felt more reassured.
+
+"It's nothing--really nothing. I'm only tired . . . yes, it was too
+much. just let me be, Maurice--till to-morrow." And she shut her eyes
+again, and kept them shut, till she heard the door close behind him.
+
+He was reassured, but still, for the greater part of the night, he lay
+sleepless. He was always agitated anew by the abrupt way in which Louise
+passed from mood to mood; but this was something different; he could not
+understand it. In the morning, however, he saw things in a less tragic
+light; and, on sitting down to the piano, he experienced almost a sense of
+satisfaction at the prospect of an undisturbed day's work.
+
+Meanwhile Louise shrank, even in memory, from the feverish weeks just
+past, as she had shrunk that day from his touch. And she struggled to keep
+her thoughts from dwelling on them. But it was the first time in her life
+that she felt a like shame and regret; and she could not rid her mind of
+the haunting images. She knew the reason, too; darkness brought the
+knowledge. She had believed, had wished to believe, that the failure was
+her fault, a result of her unstable nature; whereas the whole undertaking
+had been merely a futile attempt to bolster up the impossible, to stave
+off the inevitable, to postpone the end. And it had all been in vain. The
+end! It would come, as surely as day followed night--had perhaps indeed
+already come; for how else could the nervous aversion be explained, which
+had seized her that day? What, during the foregoing weeks, she had tried
+not to hear; what had sounded in her ears like the tone of a sunken bell,
+was there at last, horrible and deafening. She had ceased to care for him,
+and ceased, surfeited with abundance, with the same vehement abruptness as
+she had once begun. The swiftness with which things had swept to a
+conclusion, had, confessedly, been accelerated by her unhappy temperament;
+but, however gentle the gradient, the point for which they made would have
+remained the same. What she was now forced to recognise was, that the
+whole affair had been no more than an episode; and the fact of its having
+begun less brutally than others, had not made it a whit better able than
+these to withstand decay.
+
+A bitter sense of humiliation came over her. What was she? Not a week
+ago--she could count the days on her fingers--the mere touch of his hand
+on her hair had made her thrill; and now the sole feeling she was
+conscious of was one of dislike. She looked back over the course of her
+relations with him, and many things, unclear before, became plain to her.
+She had gone into the intimacy deliberately, with open eyes, knowing that
+she cared for him only in a friendly way. She had believed, then, that
+the gift of herself would mean little to her, while it would secure her a
+friend and companion. And then, too--she might as well be quite honest
+with herself--she had nourished a romantic hope that a love which
+commenced as did this shy, adoring tenderness, would give her something
+finer and more enduring than she had hitherto known. Wrong, all wrong,
+from beginning to end! It had been no better than those loves which made
+no secret of their aim and did not strut about draped in false sentiment.
+The end of all was one and the same. But besides this, it had come to mean
+more to her than she had ever dreamt of allowing. You could not play with
+fire, it seemed, and not be burned. Or, at least, she could not. She was
+branded with wounds. The fierce demands in her, over which she had no
+control, had once more reared their heads and got the mastery of her, and
+of him, too. There had been no chance, beneath their scorching breath, for
+a pallid delicacy of feeling.
+
+It did not cross her mind that she would conceal what she felt from him.
+Secrecy implied a mental ingenuity, a tiresome care of word and deed. His
+eyes must be opened; he, too, must learn to say the horrid word "end." How
+infinitely thankful she had now reason to be that she had not yielded to
+his persuasions, and married him! No, she had never seriously considered
+the idea, even at the height of her folly. But then, she was never quite
+sure of herself; there was always a chance that some blind impulse would
+spring up in her and overthrow her resolutions. Now, he must suffer,
+too--and rightly. For, after all, he had also been to blame. If only he
+had not importuned her so persistently, if only he had let her alone,
+nothing of this would have happened, and there would be no reason for her
+to lie and taunt herself. But, in his silent, obstinate way, he had given
+her no peace; and you could not--she could not!--go on living unmoved,
+at the side of a person who was crazy with love for you.
+
+For two nights, she slept little. On the third, worn out, she fell, soon
+after midnight, into a deep sleep, from which, the following morning, she
+wakened refreshed.
+
+When Maurice came, about half-past twelve, her eyes followed him with a
+new curiosity, as he drew up a chair and sat down at her bedside. She
+wondered what he would say when he knew, and what change would come over
+his face. But she made no beginning to enlightening him. In his presence,
+she was seized by an ungovernable desire to be distracted, to be
+taken out of herself. Also, it was not, she began to grasp, a case of
+stating a simple fact, in simple words; it meant all the circumstantiality
+of complicated explanation; it meant a still more murderous tearing up of
+emotion. And besides this, there was another factor to be reckoned with,
+and that was the peculiar mood he was in. For, as soon as he entered the
+room, she felt that he was different from what he had been the day before.
+
+She heard the irritation in his voice, as he tried to persuade her to come
+out to dinner with him. In fancy she saw it all: saw them walking together
+to the restaurant, at a brisk pace, in order to waste none of his valuable
+time; saw dinner taken quickly, for the same reason; saw them parting
+again at the house-door; then herself in the room alone, straying from
+sofa to window and back again, through the long hours of the long
+afternoon. A kind of mental nausea seized her at the thought that the old
+round was to begin afresh. She brought no answer over her lips. And after
+waiting some time in vain for her to speak, Maurice rose, and, still under
+the influence of his illhumour, drew up the three blinds, and opened a
+window. A cold, dusty sunlight poured into the room.
+
+Louise gave a cry, and put her hands to her eyes.
+
+"The room is so close, and you're so pale," he said in selfexcuse. "Do you
+know you've been shut up in here for three days now?"
+
+"My head aches."
+
+"It will never be any better as long as you lie there. Dearest, what is
+it? WHAT'S the matter with you?"
+
+"You're unhappy about something," he went on, a moment later. "What is it?
+Won't you tell me?"
+
+"Nothing," she murmured. She lay and pressed her palms to her eyeballs, so
+firmly that when she removed them, the room was a blur. Maurice, standing
+at the window, beat a tattoo on the pane. Then, with his back to her, he
+began to speak. He blamed himself for what he called the folly of the past
+weeks. "I gave way when I should have been firm. And this is the result.
+You have got into a nervous, morbid state. But it's nonsense to think it
+can go on."
+
+For the first time, she was conscious of a somewhat critical attitude on
+his part; he said "folly" and "nonsense." But she made no comment; she lay
+and let his words go over her. They had so little import now. All the
+words that had ever been said could not alter a jot of what she
+felt--of her intense inward experience.
+
+Her protracted silence, her heavy indifference infected him; and for some
+time the only sound to be heard was that of his fingers drumming on the
+glass. When he spoke again, he seemed to be concluding an argument with
+himself; and indeed, on this particular day, Maurice found it hard to
+detach his thoughts from himself, for any length of time.
+
+"It's no use, dear. Things can't go on like this any longer. I've got to
+buckle down to work again. I've . . . I. . .I haven't told you yet:
+Schwarz is letting me play the Mendelssohn."
+
+She thought she would have to cry aloud; here it was again: the chilling
+atmosphere of commonplace, which her nerves were expected to live and be
+well in; the well-worn phrases, the "must this," and "must that," the
+confident expectation of interest in doings that did not interest her at
+all. She could not--it would kill her to begin it anew! And, in spite of
+her efforts at repression, an exclamation forced its way through her lips.
+
+At this, Maurice went quickly back to her.
+
+"Forgive me . . . talking about myself, when you are not well."
+
+He knelt down beside the bed, and removed her hands from her face. She did
+not open her eyes, kept quite still. At this moment, she felt mainly
+curious: would the strange aversion to his touch return? He was kissing
+her palms, pressing them to his face. She drew a long, deep sigh: it did
+not come back. On the contrary, the touch of his hand was pleasant to her.
+He stroked her cheek, pushed back a loose piece of hair from her forehead;
+and, as he did this, she was aware of the old sense of well-being. Beneath
+his hand, irksome thoughts fell away. Backwards and forwards it travelled,
+as gently as though she were a sick person. And, little by little, so
+gradually that, at first, she herself was not conscious of them, other
+wishes came to life in her again. She began to desire more than mere
+peace. The craving came over her to forget her self-torturings, and to
+forget them in a dizzy whirl. Reaching up, she put her arms round his
+neck, and drew him down. He kissed her eyelids. At this she opened her
+eyes, enveloping him in a look he had learnt to know well. For a second he
+sustained it: his life was concentrated in the liquid fire of these eyes,
+in these eager parted lips. She pressed them to his, and he felt a
+smart, like a bee's sting.
+
+With a jerk, he thrust her arms away, and rose to his feet; to keep his
+balance he was obliged to grasp the back of a chair. Taking out his
+handkerchief, he pressed it to his lip.
+
+"Maurice!"
+
+"It's late . . . I must go . . . I must work, I tell you." He stood
+staring at the drop of blood on his handkerchief.
+
+"Maurice!"
+
+He looked round him in a confused way; he was strangely angry, and hasty
+to no purpose. "Won't you . . . then you won't come out with me?"
+
+"Maurice!" The word was a cry.
+
+"Oh, it's foolish! You don't know what you're doing." He had found his
+coat, and was putting it on, with unsure hands. "Then, if . . . this
+evening, then! As usual. I'll come as usual."
+
+The door shut behind him; a minute later, the street-door banged. At the
+sound Louise seemed to waken. Starting up in bed, she threw a wild look
+round the empty room; then, turned on her face, and bit a hole in the
+linen of the pillow.
+
+Maurice worked that afternoon as though his future was conditioned by the
+number of hours he could practise before evening. Throughout these three
+days, indeed, his zeal had been unabating. He would never have yielded so
+calmly to the morbid fashion in which she had cooped herself up, had not
+the knowledge that his time was his own again, been something of a relief
+to him. Yes, at first, relief was the word for what he felt. For, after
+making one good resolution on top of another, he had, when the time came,
+again been a willing defaulter. He had allowed the chance to slip of
+making good, by redoubled diligence, his foolish mistake with regard to
+Schwarz. Now it was too late; though the master had let him have his way
+in the choice of piece for the coming PRUFUNG, it had mainly been owing to
+indifference. If only he did not prove unequal to the choice now it was
+made! For that he was out of the rut of steady work, was clear to him as
+soon as he put his hands to the piano.
+
+But he had never been so forlornly energetic as on this particular
+afternoon. Yet there was something mechanical, too, about his playing;
+neither heart nor brain was in it. Mendelssohn's effective roulades ran
+thoughtlessly from his fingers: in the course of a single day, he
+had come to feel a deep contempt for the emptiness of these runs and
+flourishes. He pressed forward, however, hour after hour without a break,
+as though he were a machine wound up for the purpose. But with the
+entrance of dusk, his fictitious energy collapsed. He did not even trouble
+to light the lamp, but, throwing himself on the sofa, covered his eyes
+with his arm.
+
+The twilight induced sensations like itself--vague, formless, intolerable.
+A sudden recognition of the uselessness of human striving grew up in him,
+with the rapidity of a fungus. Effort and work, ambition and success,
+alike led nowhere, were so many blind alleys: ambition ended in smoke;
+success was a fleeing phantom, which one sought in vain to grasp. To the
+great mass of mankind, it was more than immaterial whether one of its
+units toiled or no; not a single soul was benefited by it. Most certainly
+not the toiler himself. It was only given to a few to achieve anything;
+the rest might stand aside early in the day. Nothing of their labours
+would remain, except the scars they themselves bore.
+
+He was unhappy; to-night he knew it with a painful clearness. The shock
+had been too rude. For him, change had to be prepared, to come gradually.
+Sooner or later, no doubt, he would right himself again; but in the
+meantime his plight was a sorry one. It was his duty to protect himself
+against another onslaught of the kind--to protect them both. For there was
+no blinking the fact: a few more weeks like the foregoing, and they would
+have been two of the wretchedest creatures on earth. They were miserable
+enough as it was, he in his, she in her own way. It must never happen
+again. She, too, had doubtless become sensible of this, in the course of
+the past three days. But had she? Could he say that? What had she
+thought?--what had she felt? And he told himself that was just what he
+would never know.
+
+He saw her as she had lain that morning, her arms long and white on the
+coverlet. He recalled all he had said, and tried to piece things together;
+an inner meaning seemed to be eluding him. Again, in memory, he heard the
+half-stifled cry that had drawn him to her side, felt her hands in his,
+the springy resistance of her hair, the delicate skin of her eyelids.
+Then, he had not understood the sudden impulse that had made him spring to
+his feet. But now, as he lay in the dusk, and summed up these things, a
+new thought, or hardly a thought so much as an intuition, flashed through
+his mind, instantly to take entire possession of him--just as if it
+had all along been present, in waiting. Simultaneously, the colour mounted
+to his face: he refused to harbour such a thought, and put it from him,
+angry with himself. But it was not to be kept down; it rose again, in an
+inexplicable way--this suggestion, which was like a slur cast on her. Why,
+he demanded of himself, should it not have occurred to him before?--once,
+twenty, a hundred times? For the same thing had often happened: times
+without number, she had striven to keep him at her side. Was its presence
+to-day a result of his aimless irritation? Or was it because, after
+holding him at arm's length for three whole days, she had asked, on
+returning to him, neither affection nor comradeship, only the blind
+gratification of sense?
+
+He did not know. But forgotten hints and trifles--words, acts, looks--
+which he had never before considered consciously, now recurred to him as
+damning evidence. With his arm still across his eyes, he lay and let it
+work in him; let doubts and frightful uncertainties grow up in his brain;
+suffered the most horrible suffering of all--doubt of the one beloved. He
+seemed to be looking at things from a new point, seeing them in different
+proportions--all his own poor hopes and beliefs as well and, while the
+spasm of distrust lasted, he felt inclined to doubt whether she had ever
+really cared for him. He even questioned his own feeling for her, seeking
+to discover whether it, too, had not been based on a mere sensual fancy.
+He saw them satisfying an instinct, without reason and without nobility.
+And, by this light, he read a reason for the past months, which made him
+groan aloud.
+
+He rose and paced the room. If what he was thinking of her were true, then
+it would be better for both their sakes if he never saw her again. But,
+even while he said this, he knew that he would have to see her, and
+without loss of time. What he needed was to stand face to face with her,
+to look into her eyes, which, whatever they might do, had never learned to
+hide the truth, and there gain the certainty that his imaginings were
+monstrous--the phantoms of a melancholy October twilight.
+
+It was nearly nine o'clock, but there was no light in her room. He
+pictured her lying in the dark, and was filled with remorse. But he said
+her name in vain; the room was empty. Lighting the lamp, he saw that the
+bedclothes had been thrown back over the foot-end of the unmade bed, as
+though she had only just left it. The landlady said that she had gone out,
+two hours previously, without leaving any message. All he could do
+was to sit down and wait; and in the long half-hour that now went by, the
+black thoughts that had driven him there were forgotten. His only wish was
+to have her safe beside him again.
+
+Towards ten o'clock he heard approaching sounds. A moment later Louise
+came in. She blinked at the light, and began to unfasten her veil before
+she was over the threshold.
+
+He gave a sigh of relief. "At last! Thank goodness! Where have you been?"
+
+"Did you think I was lost? Have you been here long?"
+
+"For hours. Where else should I be? But you--where have you been?"
+
+Standing before the table, she fumbled with the veil, which she had pulled
+into a knot. He did not offer to help her; he stood looking at her, and
+both voice and look were a little stern.
+
+"Why did you go out?"
+
+She did not look at him. "Oh, just for a breath of air. I felt I . . . I
+HAD to do something."
+
+From the moment of her entrance, even before she had spoken, Maurice was
+aware of that peculiar aloofness in her, which invariably made itself felt
+when she was engrossed by something in which he had no part.
+
+"That's hardly a reason," he said nervously.
+
+With the veil stretched between her two hands, she turned her head. "Do
+you want another? Well, after you left me to-day, I lay and thought and
+thought . . . till I felt I should go mad, if I lay there any longer."
+
+"Yes, but all of a sudden, like this! After being in bed for three
+days . . . to go out and . . ."
+
+"But I have not been ill!"
+
+"Go out and wander about the streets, at night."
+
+"I didn't mean to be so late," she said, and folded the veil with an
+exaggerated care. "But I was hindered; I had a little adventure."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"Oh, nothing much. A man followed me--and I couldn't get rid of him."
+
+"Go on, please!" He was astonished at the severity of his own voice.
+
+"Oh, don't be so serious, Maurice!" She had folded the veil to a neat
+square, stuck three hatpins in it, and thrown it with her hat and jacket
+on the sofa. "No one has tried to murder me," she said, and raised both
+her hands to her hair. "I was standing before Haase's window--the big
+jeweller's in the PETERSTRASSE, you know. I've always loved
+jewellers' windows--especially at night, when they're lighted up. As a
+child, I thought heaven must be like the glitter of diamonds on blue
+velvet--the Jasper Sea, you know, and the pearly floor."
+
+"Never mind that now!"
+
+"Well, I was standing there, looking in, longer perhaps than I knew. I
+felt that some one was beside me, but I didn't see who it was, till I
+heard a man's voice say: 'SCHONE SACHEN, FRAULEIN, WAS?' Of course, I took
+no notice; but I didn't run away, as if I were afraid of him. I went on
+looking into the window, till he said: 'DARF ICH IHNEN ETWASS KAUFEN?'and
+more nonsense of the same kind. Then I thought it was time to go. He
+followed me down the PETERSTRASSE, and when I came to the ROSSPLATZ, he
+was still behind me. So I determined to lead him a dance. I've been
+walking about, with him at my heels, for over an hour. In a quiet street
+where there was no one in sight, he spoke to me again, and refused to go
+away until I told him where I lived. I pretended to agree, and, on the
+condition that he didn't follow me any further, I gave him a number in the
+QUERSTRASSE; and in case he broke his. word, I came home that way. I hope
+he'll spend a pleasant evening looking for me."
+
+She laughed--her fitful, somewhat unreal laugh, which was always
+displeasing to him. To-night, taken in conjunction with her story, and her
+unconcerned way of telling it, it jarred on him as never before.
+
+"Let me catch him here, and I'll make it impossible for him to insult a
+woman again!" he cried. "For it is an insult though you don't see it in
+that light. You laugh as you tell it, as if something amusing had happened
+to you. You are so strange sometimes.--Tell me, dearest, WHY did you go
+out? When I asked you, you wouldn't come."
+
+"No. Then I wasn't in the mood." Her smile faded.
+
+"No. But after dark--and quite alone--then the mood takes you."
+
+"But I've done it hundreds of times before. I can take care of myself."
+
+"You are never to do it again--do you hear?--Why didn't you give the
+fellow in charge?" he asked a moment later, in a burst of distrust.
+
+Again Louise laughed. "Oh, a German policeman would find that rather funny
+than otherwise. It's the rule, you know, not the exception. And the same
+thing has happened to me before. So often that it's literally not
+worth mentioning. I shouldn't have spoken of it to-night if you hadn't
+been so persistent. Besides," she added as an afterthought--and, in the
+face of his grave displeasure, she found herself wilfully exaggerating the
+levity of her tone--"besides, this wasn't the kind of man one gives in
+charge. Not the usual commercial-traveller type. A Graf, or Baron, at
+least."
+
+He was as nettled as she had intended him to be. "You talk just as if you
+had had experience in the class of man.--Do you really think it makes
+things any better? To my mind, it's a great deal worse.--But the thing
+is--you don't know how . . . You're not to go out alone again at night. I
+forbid it. This is the first time for weeks; and see what happens! And
+it's notyou may well say it has happened to you before. I don't know what
+it is, but--The very cab-drivers look at you as they've no business to--as
+they don't look at other women!"
+
+"Well, can I help that?--how men look at me?" she asked indignantly. "Do
+you wish to say it's my fault? That I do anything to make them?"
+
+"No. Though it might be better if you did," he answered gloomily. "The
+unpleasant thing is, though you do nothing . . . that it's there all the
+same . . . something . . . I don't know what."
+
+"No, I don't think you do, and neither do I. But I do know that you are
+being very rude to me." As he made no reply, she went on: "You will,
+however, at least give me credit for knowing how to keep men at a
+distance, though I can't hinder them from looking at me.--And, for your
+own comfort, remember in future that I'm not an inexperienced child.
+There's nothing I don't know."
+
+"You needn't throw that up at me."
+
+"--I at YOU?" she laughed hotly. "That's surely reversing the order of
+things, isn't it? It ought to be the other way about."
+
+"Unfortunately it isn't." The look he gave her was made up of mingled
+anger and entreaty; but as she took no notice of it, he turned away, and
+going to the window, leaned his forehead against the glass. What affected
+him so disagreeably was not the incident of the man following her, but her
+light way of regarding it. And as the knowledge of this came home to him,
+he was impelled to go on speaking. "It's a trifle to make a fuss about, I
+know," he said. "And I shouldn't give it a second thought, if I could ONLY
+feel, Louise, that you looked at it as I do . . . and felt about
+it as I do. You seem so indifferent to what it really means--it's almost
+as if you enjoyed it. Other women are different. They resent such a thing
+instinctively. While you don't even take offence. And men feel that in
+you, somehow. That's what makes them look at you and follow you about.
+That's what attracts them and always has done--far too easily."
+
+"You among the rest!"
+
+"For God's sake, hold your tongue! You don't know what you're saying."
+
+"Oh, I know well enough." She put her hair back from her forehead, and
+passed her handkerchief over her lips. "Instead of lecturing me in this
+way, you might be grateful, I think, that I didn't accept the man's offer
+and go somewhere to supper with him. It's dull enough here. You don't make
+things very gay for me. To-day, altogether, you are treating me as if I
+were a criminal."
+
+He did not answer; the words "You among the rest!" went on sounding in his
+ears. Yes, there was truth in them, a horrible truth. Who was he to sit in
+judgment?--either on her, or on those others who yielded to the attraction
+that went out from her. Had not he himself been in love with her before he
+even knew her name. Had he then accused her?--laid the blame at her door?
+
+She caught a moth that was fluttering round the lamp, and carried it to
+the window. When, a moment later, he turned and gave her another unhappy
+look, she felt a kind of pity for him, forced as he was, by his nature, to
+work himself into unhappiness over such a trivial matter.
+
+"Don't let us say unkind things to each other," she said slowly. "I'm
+sorry. If I had known it would worry you so much, I shouldn't have said a
+word about it. That would have been easy."
+
+He felt her touch on his arm. As it grew warm and close, he, too, was
+filled with the wish to be at one with her again--to be lulled into
+security. He pressed her hand.
+
+"Forgive me! To-day I've been bothered--pestered with black thoughts. Or
+else I shouldn't go on like this."
+
+Now she was silent; both stared out into the night. And then a strange
+thing happened. He began to speak again, and words rose to his lips, of
+which, a moment before, he had had no idea, but which he now knew for
+absolute truth. He said: "I don't want to excuse myself; I'm jealous, I
+admit it. And yet there IS an excuse for me, Louise. For saying
+such things to you, I mean. To-night I--Have you ever thought, dear, what
+a difference it would make to us, if you had . . . I mean if I knew . . .
+that you had never cared for anyone . . . if you had never belonged to
+anyone but me? That's what I wish now more than anything else in the
+world. If I could just say to myself: no one but me has ever held her in
+his arms; and no one ever will. Do you think then, darling, I could speak
+as I have to-night?"
+
+A moment back, he had had no thought of such a thing; now, here it was,
+expressed, over his lips--another of those strange, inlying truths, which
+were existent in him, and only waited for a certain moment to come to
+light. Strangest of all, perhaps, was the manner in which it impressed
+itself on him. In it seemed to be summed up his trouble of the afternoon,
+his suspense and irritation of the later hours. It was as if he had
+suddenly found a formula for them, and, as he stated it, he was
+dumbfounded by its far-reaching significance.
+
+A church-clock pealed a single stroke.
+
+"Oh, yes, perhaps," said Louise, in a low voice. She could not rouse
+herself to a very keen interest in his feelings.
+
+"No, not perhaps. Yes--a thousand times yes! Everything would be changed
+by it. Then I couldn't torment you. And our love would have a certainty
+such as it can now never have."
+
+"But you knew, Maurice! I told you--everything! You said it didn't
+matter."
+
+"And it doesn't, and never shall. But to make it undone, I would
+cheerfully give years of my life. You're a woman--you can't understand
+these things--or know what we miss. You mine only--life wouldn't be the
+same."
+
+For a moment she did not answer. Then the same toneless voice came out of
+the darkness at his side. "But I AM yours only--now. And it's a foolish
+thing to wish for the impossible."
+
+
+
+
+VII.
+
+
+
+It was, indeed, a preposterous thought to have at this date: no one knew
+that better than himself. And as long as he was with Louise, he kept it at
+bay; it was a fatuous thing even to allow himself to think, considering
+the past, and considering all he knew.
+
+But next morning, as he sat with busy fingers, and a vacant mind, it
+returned. He thrust it angrily away, endeavouring to concentrate his
+attention on his music open before him. For a time, he believed he had
+succeeded. Then, the idea was unexpectedly present to him again, and this
+time more forcibly than before; it came like a sharp, swift stab of
+remembrance, and forced an exclamation over his lips. Discouraged, he let
+his hands drop from the keys of the piano; for now he knew that he would
+probably never be rid of it again. This was always the way with unpleasant
+thoughts and impressions: if they returned, after he had resolved to have
+done with them, they were henceforth part and parcel of himself, fixed
+ideas, against which his will was powerless.
+
+In the hope of growing used to the haunting reflection, and to the
+unhappiness it implied, he thought it through to the end--this strange,
+unsought knowledge, which had lain unsuspected in him, and now became
+articulate. Once considered, however, it made many things clear. He could
+even account to himself now, for the blasphemous suggestions that had
+plagued him not twenty-four hours ago. If he had then not, all
+unconsciously, had the feeling that Louise had known too long and too well
+what love was, to be willing to live without it, such thoughts as those
+would never have risen in him.
+
+In vain he asked himself, why he should only now understand these things.
+He could find no answer. Throughout the time he had known Louise, he had
+been better acquainted with her mode of life than anyone else: her past
+had lain open to him; she had concealed nothing, had been what she called
+"brutally frank" with him. And he had protested, and honestly believed,
+that what had preceded their intimacy did not matter to him. Who could
+foresee that, on a certain day, an idea of this kind would break out in
+him--like a canker? But this query took him a step further. Was it
+not deluding himself to say break out? Had not this shadow lurked in their
+love from the very beginning? Had it not formed an invisible barrier
+between them? It was possible no, it was true; though he only recognised
+its truth at the present time. It had existed from the first: something
+which each of them, in turn, had felt, and vaguely tried to express. It
+had little or nothing to do with the fact that they had defied convention.
+That, regrettable though it might be, was beside the mark. The confounding
+truth was, that, in an emotional crisis of an intensity of the one they
+had come through, it was imperative to be able to say: our love is
+unparalleled, unique; or, at least: I am the only possible one; I am
+yours, you are mine, only. That had not been the case. What he had been
+forced to tell himself was, that he was not the first. And now he knew
+that, for some time past, he had been aware that he would always occupy
+the second place; she was forced to compare him with another, to his
+disadvantage. And he knew more. For the first time, he allowed his
+thoughts to rove, unchecked, over her previous life, and he was no longer
+astonished at the imperfections of the present. To him, the gradual
+unfolding of their love had been a wonderful revelation; to her, a
+repetition, and a paler and fainter one, of a tale she already knew by
+heart. And the knowledge of this awakened a fresh distrust in him. If she
+had loved that first time, as she had asserted, as he had seen with his
+own eyes that she did, desperately, abandonedly, how had it been possible
+for her to change front so quickly, to turn to him and love anew? Was such
+a thing credible? Was a woman's nature capable of it? And had it not been
+this constant fear, lest he should never be able to efface the image of
+his predecessor, which, yesterday, had boldly stalked out as a dread that
+what had drawn her to him, had not been love at all?
+
+But this mood passed. He himself cared too well to doubt, for long, that
+in her own way she really loved him. What, however, he was obliged to
+admit was, that what she felt could in no way be counted the equal of his
+love for her: that had possessed a kind of primeval freshness, which no
+repetition, however passionately fond, could achieve. And yet, in his
+mind, there was still room for doubt--eager, willing doubt. It was due to
+his ignorance. He became aware of this, and, while brooding over these
+things, he was overmanned by the desire to learn, from her own lips, more
+about her past, to hear exactly what it had meant to her, in order
+that he might compare it with her present life, and with her feelings for
+him. Who could say if, by doing this, he might not drive away what was
+perhaps a phantom of his own uneasy brain?
+
+He resolved to make the endeavour. But he was careful not to let her
+suspect his intention. First of all, he was full of compunction for his
+bad temper of the night before; he was also slightly ashamed of what he
+was going to do; and then, too, he knew that she would resent his prying.
+What he did must be done with tact. He had no wish to make her unhappy
+over it. And so, when he saw her again, he did his best to make her forget
+how disagreeable he had been.
+
+But the desire to know remained, became a morbid curiosity. If this were
+satisfied, he believed it would make things easier for both of them. But
+he was infinitely cautious. Sometimes, without a word, he took her face
+between his hands and looked into her eyes, as if to read in them an
+answer to the questions he was afraid to put--looked right into the depth
+of her eyes, where the pupils swam in an oval of bluish white, overhung by
+lids which were finely creased in their folds, and netted with tiny veins.
+But he said not a word, and the eyes remained unfathomable, as they had
+always been.
+
+Meanwhile, he did what he could to set his life on a solid basis again.
+But he was unable to arouse in himself a very vital interest in his work;
+some prompter-nerve in him seemed to have been injured. And often, he was
+overcome by the feeling that this perpetual preoccupation with music was
+only a trifling with existence, an excuse for not facing the facts of
+life. He would sometimes rather have been a labourer, worn out with
+physical toil. He was much alone, too; when he was not with Louise, he was
+given over to his own thoughts, and, day by day, fostered by the long,
+empty hours of practice, these moved more and more steadily in the one
+direction. The craving for a knowledge of the facts, for certainty in any
+form--this became a reason for, a plea in extenuation of, what he felt
+escaping him.
+
+Louise did not help him; she assented to what he did without comment, half
+sorry for him in what seemed to her his wilful blindness, half disdainful.
+But she, too, made a discovery in these tame, flat days, and this was,
+that it was one thing to say to herself: it is over and done with, and
+another to make the assertion a fact. Energy for the effort was lacking in
+her; for the short, sharp stroke, which with her meant action, was
+invariably born of intense happiness or unhappiness. Now, as the days went
+by, she asked herself why she should do it. It was so much easier to let
+things slide, until something happened of itself, either to make the
+break, or to fill up the still greater emptiness in her life which a break
+would cause. And if he were content with what she could give him, well and
+good; she made no attempt to deceive him. And it seemed to her that he was
+content, though in a somewhat preoccupied way. But a little later, she
+acknowledged to herself that this was not the whole truth. There was habit
+to fight against--habit which could still give her hours of
+self-forgetfulness--and one could not forgo, all at once, and under no
+pressing necessity to do so, this means of escape from the cheerlessness
+of life.
+
+But not for long did matters remain at this negative stage. Whereas, until
+now, the touch of her lips had been sufficient to chase away the shadows,
+the moment came, when, as he held her in his arms, Maurice was paralysed
+by the abrupt remembrance: she has known all this before. How was it then?
+To what degree is she mine, was she his? What fine, ultimate shade of
+feeling is she keeping back from me?--His ardour was damped; and as Louise
+also became aware of his sudden coolness, their hands sank apart, and had
+no strength to join anew.
+
+Thus far, he had gone about his probings with skill, questioning her in a
+roundabout way, trying to learn by means of inference. But after this, he
+let himself go, and put a barefaced question. The subject once broached,
+there was no further need of concealment, and he flung tact and prudence
+to the winds. He could not forget--he was goaded on by--the look she had
+given him, as the ominous words crossed his lips: it made him conscious
+once more of the unapproachable nature of that first love of hers. He grew
+reckless; and while he had hitherto only sought to surprise her and entrap
+her, he now began to try to worm things out of her, all the time spying on
+her looks and words, ready to take advantage of the least slip on her
+part.
+
+At first, before she understood what he was aiming at, Louise had been as
+frank as usual with him--that somewhat barbarous frankness, which took
+small note of the recipient's feelings. But after he had put a direct
+question, and followed it up with others, of which she too clearly saw the
+drift, she drew back, as though she were afraid of him. It was not
+alone the error of taste he committed, in delving in matters which he had
+sworn should never concern him; it was his manner of doing it that was so
+distasteful to her--his hints and inuendoes. She grew very white and
+still, and looked at him with eyes in which a nascent dislike was visible.
+
+He saw it; but it was now too late. Day by day, his preoccupation with the
+man who had preceded him increased. The thought that continued to harass
+him was: if she had never known the other, all would now be different.
+With jealousy, his state of mind had only as yet, in common, a devouring
+curiosity and a morbid imagination, which allowed him to picture the two
+of them in situations he would once have blushed to think of. For the one
+thing that now mattered to him, what he would have given his life to know,
+and would probably never know, was concerned with the ultimate
+ratification of love. What had she had for the other that she could not
+give him?--that she wilfully refrained from giving him? For that she did
+this, and always had refused him part of herself, was now as plain to him
+as if it had been branded on her flesh. And the knowledge undermined their
+lives. If she was gentle and kind, he read into her words pity that she
+could give him no more; if she were cold and evasive, she was remembering,
+comparing; if she returned his kisses with her former warmth--well, the
+thoughts which in this case seized him were the most murderous of all.
+
+His mental activity ground him down. But it was not all unhappiness; the
+beloved eyes and hands, the wilful hair, and pale, sweet mouth, could
+still stir him; and there came hours of wishless well-being, when his
+tired brain found rest. As the days went by, however, these grew rarer; it
+also seemed to him that he paid dearly for them, by being afterwards more
+miserable, by suffering in a more active way.
+
+At times, he knew, he was anything but a pleasant companion. But he was
+losing the mastery over himself, and often a trifle was sufficient to
+start him off afresh on the dreary theme. Once, in a fit of hopelessness,
+he made her what amounted to reproaches for her past.
+
+"But you knew!--everythinging!--I told you all," Louise expostulated, and
+there were tears in her eyes.
+
+"I know you did. But Louise"--he hesitated, half contrite in advance, for
+what he was going to say--"it might have been better if you hadn't told
+me--everything, I mean. Yes, I believe it's better not to know."
+
+She did not reply, as she might have done, that she had forewarned
+him, afraid of this. She looked away, so that she should not be obliged to
+see him.
+
+Another day, when they were walking in the ROSENTAL, she made him
+extremely unhappy by disagreeing with him.
+
+"If one could just take a sponge and wipe the past out, like figures from
+a slate!" he said moodily.
+
+But, jaded by his persistency, Louise would not admit it. "We should have
+nothing to remember."
+
+"That's just it."
+
+"But it belongs to us!" She was roused to protest by the under-meaning in
+his words. "It's as much a part of ourselves as our thoughts are--or our
+hands."
+
+"One is glad to forget. You would be, Louise? You wouldn't care if your
+past were gone? Say you wouldn't."
+
+But she only threw him a dark side-glance. As, however, he would not rest
+content, she flung out her hands with an impatient gesture. "How CAN you
+torment yourself so! If you insist on knowing, well, then, I wouldn't part
+with an hour of what's gone--not an hour! And you know it."
+
+She caught at a few vivid leaves that had remained hanging on a bare
+branch, and carried them with her.
+
+He took one she held out to him, looked at it without seeing it, and threw
+it away. "Tell me, just this once, something about your life before I knew
+you. Were you very happy?--or were you unhappy? Do you know, I once heard
+you say you had never known a moment's happiness?--yes, one summer night
+long ago, over in the NONNE. How I hoped then it was true! But I don't
+know. You've never told me anything--of all there must be to tell."
+
+"What you may have chanced to hear, by eavesdropping, doesn't concern me
+now," Louise answered coldly. And then she shut her lips, and would say no
+more. She was wiser than she had been a week ago: she refused to hand her
+past over to him in order that he might smirch it with his thoughts.
+
+But she could not understand him--understand the motives that made him
+want to unearth the past. If this were jealousy, it was a kind she did not
+know--a bloodless, bodiless kind, of which she had had no experience.
+
+But it was not jealousy; it was only a craving for certainty in any guise,
+and the more surely Maurice felt that he would never gain it, the more
+tenaciously he strove. For certainty, that feeling of utter reliance in
+the loved one, which sets the heart at rest and leaves the mind
+free for the affairs of life, was what Louise had never given him; he had
+always been obliged to fall back on supposition with regard to her,
+equally at the height of their passion, and in that first and stretch of
+time, when it was forbidden him to touch her hand. The real truth, the
+last-reaching truth about her, it would not be his to know. Soul would
+never be absorbed in soul; not the most passionate embraces could bridge
+the gulf; to their last kiss, they would remain separate beings, lonely
+and alone.
+
+As this went on, he came to hate the vapidities of the concerto in G
+major. Mentally to be stretched on a kind of rack, and, at the same time,
+to be forced to reiterate the empty rhetoric of this music! From this time
+forward, he could not hear the name of Mendelssohn without a shiver of
+repugnance. How he wished now, that he had been content with the bare
+sincerity of Beethoven, who at least said no note more than he had to say.
+
+One day, towards the end of November, he was working with even greater
+distaste than usual. Finally, in exasperation, he flapped the music to,
+shut the piano, and went out. A stroll along the muddy little railed-in
+river brought him to the PLEISSENBURG, and from there he crossed the
+KONIGSPLATZ to the BRUDERSTRASSE. He had not come out with the intention
+of going to Louise, but, although it was barely four o'clock, the
+afternoon was drawing in; an interminable evening had to be got through.
+He had been walking at haphazard, and without relish; now his pace grew
+brisker. Having reached the house, he sprang nimbly up the. stairs, and
+was about to insert his key in the little door in the wall, when he was
+arrested by a muffled sound of voices. Louise was talking to some one,
+and, at the noise he made outside, she raised her voice--purposely, no
+doubt. He could not hear what was being said, but the second voice was a
+man's. For a minute he stood, with his key suspended, straining his cars;
+then, afraid of being caught, he went downstairs again, where he hung
+about, between stair and street-door, in order that anyone who came down
+would be forced to pass him. At the end of five minutes, however, his
+patience was spent: he remembered, too, that the person might be as likely
+to go up as down. He mounted the stairs again, rang the bell, and had
+himself admitted by the landlady.
+
+He thought she looked significantly at him as, with her usual
+pantomime of winks and signs, she whispered to him that a gentleman was
+with Fraulein--EIN SCHONER JUNGER MANN! Maurice pushed her aside, and
+opened the sitting-room door. Two heads turned at his entrance.
+
+On the sofa, beside Louise, sat Herries, the ruddy little student of
+medicine with whom she had danced so often at the ball. He sat there,
+smiling and dapper, balancing his hard round hat on his knee, and holding
+gloves in his hand.
+
+Louise looked the more untidy by contrast: as usual, her hair was half
+uncoiled. Maurice saw this in a flash, saw also the look of annoyance that
+crossed her face at his unceremonious entry. She raised astonished
+eyebrows. Then, however, she shook hands with him.
+
+"I think you know Mr. Herries."
+
+Maurice bowed stiffly across the table; Herries replied in kind, without
+discommoding himself.
+
+"How d'ye do? I believe we've met," he said carelessly.
+
+As Maurice made no rejoinder, but remained standing in an uncompromising
+attitude, Herries turned to Louise again, and went on with what he had
+been saying. He was talking of England.
+
+"I went back to Oxford after that," he continued. "I've diggings there,
+don't you know? An old chum of mine's a fellow of Magdalen. I was just in
+time for eights' week. A magnificent walk-over for our fellows. Ever seen
+the race? No? Oh, I say, that's too bad. You must come over for it, next
+year."
+
+"Mr. Herries only returned from England a few days ago," explained Louise,
+and again raised warning brows. "Do sit down. There's a chair."
+
+"Yes. I was over for the whole summer. Didn't work here at all, in fact,"
+added Herries, once more letting his bright eyes snapshot the young man,
+who, on sitting down, laid his shabby felt hat in the middle of the table.
+
+"But now you intend to stay, I think you said?" Louise threw in at random,
+after they had waited for Maurice to fill up the pause.
+
+"Yes, for the winter semester, anyhow. And I've got to tumble to, with a
+vengeance. But I mean to have a good time all the same. Even though it's
+only Leipzig, one can have a jolly enough time."
+
+Again there was silence. Louise flushed. "I suppose you're hard at work
+already?"
+
+"Yes. Got started yesterday. Frogs, don't you know?--the effect of
+a rare poison on frogs."
+
+This trivial exchange of words stung Maurice. Herries's manner seemed to
+him intolerably familiar, lacking in respect; and he kept telling himself,
+as he listened, that, having returned frorn England, the fellow's first
+thought had been of her. He had not opened his lips since entering; he sat
+staring at them, forgetful of good manners; and, after a little, both
+began to feel ill at ease. Their eyes met for a moment in this sensation,
+and Herries cleared his throat.
+
+"What did you do with yourself in summer?" he queried, and could not
+restrain a smile, at the fashion in which the other fellow was giving
+himself away. "You weren't in England at all, I think you said? We hoped
+we might meet there, don't you remember? Too bad that I had to go off
+without saying good-bye."
+
+"No, I changed my mind and stayed here. But I shouldn't do it again. It
+was so hot."
+
+"Must have been simply beastly."
+
+Maurice jerked his arm; a vase which was standing at his elbow upset, and
+the water trickled to the floor. Neither offered to help him; he had to
+stoop and mop it up with his handkerchief.
+
+For a few moments longer, the conversation was eked out. Then Herries
+rose. With her hand in his, he said earnestly: "Now you must be merciful
+and relent. I shan't give up hope. Any time in the next fortnight is time
+enough, remember. 'Pon my word, I've dreamt of those waltzes of ours ever
+since. And the floor at the PRUSSE is still better, don't you know? You
+won't have the heart not to come."
+
+From under her lids, Louise shot a rapid glance at Maurice. He, too, had
+risen; he was standing stiff, pale, and solemn, visibly waiting only till
+Herries had gone, to make himself disagreeable. She smiled.
+
+"Don't ask me to give an answer to-day. I'll let you know--will that do? A
+fortnight is such a long time. And then you've forgotten the chief thing.
+I must see if I have anything to wear."
+
+"Oh, I say! . . . if that's all! Don't let that bother you. That black
+thing you had on last time was ripping--awfully jolly, don't you know?"
+
+Louise laughed. "Well, perhaps," she said, as she opened the door.
+
+"Good business!" responded Herries.
+
+He nodded in Maurice's direction, and they went out of the room together.
+Maurice heard their voices in laughing rejoinder, heard them take leave of
+each other at the halldoor. After that there was a pause. Louise lingered,
+before returning, to open a letter that was lying on the hall-table; she
+also spoke to Fraulein Grunhut. When she did come back, all trace of
+animation had gone from her face. She busied herself at once with the
+flowers he had disarranged, and this done, ordered her hair before the
+hanging glass. Maurice followed her movements with a sarcastic smile.
+
+Suddenly she turned and confronted him.
+
+"Maurice! . . . for Heaven's sake, don't glare at me like that! If you've
+anything to say, please say it, and be done with it."
+
+"You know well enough what I have to say." His voice was husky.
+
+"Indeed, I don't."
+
+"Well you ought to."
+
+"Ought to?--No: there's a limit to everything! Take your hat off that
+table!--What did you mean by bursting into the room when you heard some
+one was here? And, as if that weren't enough--to let everybody see how
+much at home you are--your behaviour--your unbearable want of manners..."
+She stopped, and pressed her handkerchief to her lips.
+
+"I believed you didn't care what people thought," he threw in, morosely
+defiant.
+
+"That's a poor excuse for your rudeness."
+
+"Well, at least tell me what that fool wanted here."
+
+"Have you no ears? Couldn't you hear that he has just come back from
+England, and is calling on his friends?"
+
+"Do you expect me to believe that?"
+
+"Maurice!"
+
+"Oh, he has always been after you--since that night. It's only because he
+wasn't here long enough . . . and his manner shows what he thinks of
+you . . . and what he means."
+
+"What do YOU mean? Do you wish to say it's my doing that he came here
+to-day?--Don't you believe me?" she demanded, as he did not answer.
+
+"And you in that half-dressed condition!"
+
+"Could I dress before him? How abominable you are!"
+
+He tried to explain. "Yes. Because . . . I hate the sight of the
+fellow.--You didn't know he was coming, did you, or you wouldn't have seen
+him.?"
+
+"Know he was coming!" She wrenched her hands away. "Oh! . . ."
+
+"Say you didn't!"
+
+"Maurice!--Be jealous, if you must! But surely, surely you don't
+believe----"
+
+"Oh, don't ask me what I believe. I only know I won't have that man
+hanging about. It was by a mere chance to-day that I came round earlier;
+he might have been here for hours, without my suspecting it. Who knows if
+you would have told me either?--Would you have told me, Louise?"
+
+"Oh, how can you be like this! What is the matter with you?"
+
+He put his arms round her, with the old cry. "I can't bear you even to
+look at another man. For he's in love with you, and has been, ever since
+you made him crazy by dancing with him as you did."
+
+With his hands on her shoulders, he rested his face on her hair. "Promise
+me you won't see him again."
+
+Wearily, Louise disengaged herself. "Oh there's always something fresh to
+promise. I'm tired of it--of being hedged in, and watched, and never
+trusted."
+
+"Tired of me, you mean."
+
+She looked bitterly at him. "There you are again?"
+
+"Just this once--to set my mind at rest. Just this once,
+Louise!--darling!"
+
+But she was silent.
+
+"Then you'll let him come here again?"
+
+"How do I know?--But if I promised what you ask, I should not be able to
+go with him to the HOTEL DE PRUSSE on the fifteenth."
+
+"You mean to go to that dance?"
+
+"Why not? Would there be any harm in my going?"
+
+"Louise!"
+
+"Maurice!" She mocked his tone, and laughed. "Oh, go at once," she broke
+out the next moment, "and order Grunhut never to let another visitor
+inside the door. Make me promise never to cross the threshold alone--never
+to speak to another mortal but yourself! Cut off every pleasure and every
+chance of pleasure I have; and then you may be, but only may be, content."
+
+"You're trying how far you can go with me."
+
+"Do you want me to tell you again that dancing is one of the things
+I love best? Not six months ago you knew and helped me to it yourself."
+
+"Yes, THEN," he answered. "Then I could refuse you nothing."
+
+She laughed in an unfriendly way. He pressed her hand to his forehead.
+"You won't be so cruel, I know."
+
+"You know more than I do."
+
+"Do you realise what it means if you go?" In fancy, he was present, and
+saw her passed from one pair of arms to another.
+
+"I realise nothing--but that I am very unhappy."
+
+"Have I no influence over you any more--none at all?"
+
+"Can't you come, too, then?--if you are afraid to let me out of your
+sight?"
+
+"I? To see you----" He broke off with wrathful abruptness. "Thanks, I
+would rather be shot." But at the mingled anger and blankness of her face,
+he coloured. "Louise, put an end to all this. Marry me--now, at once!"
+
+"Marry you? I? No, thank you. We're past that stage, I think.--Besides,
+are you so simple as to believe it would make any difference?"
+
+"Oh, stop tormenting me. Come here!"--and he pulled her to him.
+
+From this day forward, the direction of his thoughts was changed. The
+incident of Herries's visit, her refusal to promise what he asked, and,
+above all, the matter of the coming ball, with regard to which he could
+not get certainty from her: these things seemed to open up nightmare
+depths, to which he could see no bottom. Compared with them, the vague
+fears which had hitherto troubled him were only shadows, and like shadows
+faded away. He no longer sought out superfine reasons for their lack of
+happiness. The past was dead and gone; he could not alter jot or tittle of
+what had happened; he could only make the best of it. And so he ceased to
+brood over it, and gave himself up to the present. The future was a black,
+unknown quantity, but the present was his own. And he would cling to
+it--for who knew what the future held in store for him? In these days, he
+began to suspect that it was not in the nature of things for her always to
+remain satisfied with him; and, ever more daring, the horrid question
+reared its head: who will come after me? Another blind attraction only
+needed to seize her, and what, then, would become of constancy and
+truth? If he had doubted her before, he was now suspicious from a
+different cause, and in quite a different way. The face of the trim little
+man who had sat beside her, and smiled at her, was persistently present to
+him. He did not question her further; but the poison worked the more
+surely in secret; he never for an instant forgot; and jealousy, now wide
+awake, had at last a definite object to lay hold of.
+
+In his lucid moments, he knew that he was making her life a burden to her.
+What wonder if she did, ultimately, turn from him? But his evil moods were
+now beyond command. He began to suspect deceit in her actions as well as
+in what she said. The idea that this other, this smirking, wax-faced man,
+might somehow steal her from him, hung over him like a fog, obscuring his
+vision. It necessitated continued watchfulness on his part. And so he
+dogged her, mentally, and in fact until his own heart all but broke under
+the strain.
+
+One afternoon they walked to Connewitz. It had rained heavily during the
+night, and the unpaved roads were inchdeep in mud. The sky was a level
+sheet of cloud, darker and more forbidding in the east.
+
+Their direction was Maurice's choice. Louise would have liked better to
+keep to the town: for, though the streets, too, were mud-bespattered,
+there would soon be lights, and the reflection of lights in damp
+pavements. She yielded, however, without even troubling to express her
+wish. But just because of the dirt and naked ugliness which met her, at
+every turn, she was voluble and excited; and an exaggerated hilarity
+seized her at trifles. Maurice, who had left the house in a more composed
+frame of mind than usual, gradually relapsed, at her want of restraint,
+into silence. He suffered under her looseness of tongue and laughter: her
+sallow, heavy-eyed face was ill-adapted to such moods; below her feverish
+animation there lurked, he was sure of it, a deadly melancholy. He had
+always been rendered uneasy by her spurts of gaiety. Now in addition, he
+asked himself: what has happened to make he. like this?
+
+Feeling his hostility, Louise grew quieter, and soon she, too, was silent.
+Having gained his end, Maurice wished to atone for it, and slipping his
+arm through hers, he took her hand. For a few steps they walked on in this
+fashion. Then, he received one of those sudden impressions which flash on
+us from time to time, of having seen or done a certain thing
+before. For a moment, he could not verify it; then he knew. just in this
+way, arm in arm, hand in hand, had she come towards him with Schilsky,
+that very first day. It was no doubt a habit of hers. Like this, too, she
+would, in all probability, walk with the one who came after. And the
+picture of Herries, in the place he now occupied, was photographed on his
+brain.
+
+He withdrew his arm, as if hers had burnt him: his mind was off again on
+its old round. But she, too, had to suffer for it. As he stood back to let
+her pass before him, on a dry strip of the path, his eye caught a yellow
+rose she was wearing at her belt. Till now he had seen it without seeing
+it.
+
+"Why are you wearing that rose?"
+
+Louise looked down from him to the flower and back again." Why?--you know
+I like to wear flowers."
+
+"Where did you get it?"
+
+She foresaw what he was driving at, and did not reply.
+
+"You were wearing a rose like that the first time I saw you. Do you
+remember?"
+
+"How should I remember? It's so long ago."
+
+"Where had you got that one from, then?"
+
+She repeated the same words. "How should I know now?"
+
+"But I know. It was from him--he had given it to you."
+
+She raised her shoulders. "Perhaps."
+
+"Perhaps? No. For certain."
+
+"Well, and if so--was there anything strange in that?"
+
+They walked a few paces without speaking. Then he asked: "Who has given
+you this one?"
+
+"Maurice!" There was a note of warning in her voice. He heard it in vain.
+"Give it to me, Louise."
+
+"No--let it be. It will wither soon enough where it is."
+
+"Please give it to me," he urged, rendered the more determined by her
+refusal.
+
+"I wish to keep it."
+
+"And I mean to have it."
+
+To avoid the threatening scene, she took the rose from her belt and gave
+it to him. He fingered it indecisively for a moment, then threw it over
+the bridge they were crossing, into the river. It struggled, filled with
+muddy water, and floated away.
+
+In the next breath, however, he asked himself ruefully what he had gained
+by his action. She had given him the rose, and he had destroyed
+it; but he would never know how she had come by it, and what it had been
+to her.
+
+He was incensed with himself and with her for the whole length of the
+SCHLEUSSIGER WEG. Then the inevitable regret for his hastiness followed.
+He took her limply hanging hand and pressed it. But there was no
+responsive pressure on her part. Louise looked away from him, beyond the
+woods, as far as she could see, in the vain hope of there discovering some
+means of escape.
+
+
+
+
+VIII.
+
+
+
+In descending one evening the broad stair of the Gewandhaus, and forced,
+by reason of the crowd, to pause on every step, Madeleine overheard the
+talk of two men behind her, one of whom, it seemed, had all the gossip of
+the place at his fingertips. From what she caught up greedily, as soon as
+Maurice's name was mentioned, she learnt a surprising piece of news. "A
+cat and dog life," was the phrase used by the speaker. As she afterwards
+picked her way through snow and slush, Madeleine confessed to herself that
+it was impossible to feel regret at what she had heard. Perhaps, after
+all, things would come right of themselves. In order to recover from his
+infatuation, to learn what Louise really was, it had only been necessary
+for Maurice to be constantly at her side.--Was it not Goethe who said that
+the way to cure a bad habit was to indulge it?
+
+But a few days afterwards, her satisfaction was damped. Late one afternoon
+she had entered Seyffert's Cafe, to drink a cup of chocolate. At a table
+parallel with the one she chose, two fellow-students were playing
+draughts. Madeleine had only been there for a few minutes, when their
+talk, which went on unrestrainedly between the moves of the game, leapt,
+with a witticism, to the unlucky pair in whom she was interested. To her
+astonishment, she now heard Louise's name, coupled with that of another
+man.
+
+"Well, I never!" said the second of the two behind her. "I say it's your
+move.--That's rough on Guest, isn't it?"
+
+Madeleine turned in her chair and faced the man who had spoken.
+
+"Excuse me, who is Herries?" she asked without ceremony.
+
+In her own room that evening, she pondered long. It was one thing for the
+two to drift naturally apart; another for Maurice to see himself
+superseded. If this were true, jealousy, and nothing else, would be at the
+root of their disunion. Madeleine felt very unwilling to mix herself up in
+the affair: it would be like plunging two clean hands into dirty water.
+But then, you never could tell how a man would act in a case like
+this: the odds were ten to one he did something foolish.
+
+And so she wrote to Maurice, making her summons imperative. This failing,
+she tried to waylay him going to or from his classes; but the only
+satisfaction she gained, was the knowledge of his irregularity: during the
+week she waited she did not once come face to face with him. Next, she
+looked round her for some common friend, and found that he had not an
+intimate left in all Leipzig. She wrote again, still more plainly, and
+again he ignored her letter.
+
+One Saturday afternoon, she was walking along the crowded streets of the
+inner town. She had been to the MOTETTE, in the THOMASKIRCHE, and was now
+on her way home, carrying music from the library. The snow had melted to
+mud, and sleet was falling. Madeleine had no umbrella; the collar of her
+cloak was turned up round her ears, and her small felt hat covered her
+head like an extinguisher.
+
+On entering the PETERSTRASSE, she was jostled together with Dove. It was
+impossible to beat a retreat.
+
+Dove seldom hurried. On this day, as on any other, he walked with a
+somewhat pompous emphasis through slush and stinging rain, holding his
+umbrella straight aloft over him, as he might have carried a banner. He
+was shocked to find Madeleine without one, at once took her under his, and
+loaded himself with her music--all with that air of matter-of-course-ness,
+which invariably made her keen to decline his aid. Dove was radiant; he
+prospered as do only the happy few; and his satisfaction with himself, and
+with the world in general, was somehow expressed even through the medium
+of his long neck and gently sloping shoulders. He greeted Madeleine with
+an exaggerated pleasure, accompanying his words by the slow smile which
+sometimes set her wondering if he were not, perhaps, being inwardly
+satirical at the expense of other people, fooling them by means of his own
+foolishness. But, however this might be, the cynical feelings that took
+her in his presence, mounted once more; she knew his symptoms, and an
+excess of content was just as distasteful to her as gluttony, or
+wine-bibbing, or any other self-indulgence.
+
+However, she checked the desire to snub him--to snub until she had
+succeeded in raising that impossible ire, which, she believed, MUST lurk
+somewhere in Dove--for, as she plodded along at his side, sheltered from
+the brunt of the weather, it occurred to her that here was some one whom
+she might tap on the subject of Maurice. She opened fire by
+congratulating her companion on his recent performance in an
+ABENDUNTERHALTUNG; at the time, even she had been forced to admit it a
+creditable piece of work. Dove, who privately considered it epochmaking,
+was outwardly very modest. He could not refrain from letting fall that the
+old director had afterwards thanked him in person; but, in the next
+breath, he pointed out a slip he had made in a particular passage of the
+sonata. It had not, it was true, been observed, he believed, by anyone
+except Schwarz and himself; still it had caused him considerable
+annoyance; and he now related how, as far as he could judge, it had come
+about.
+
+The current inquiries concerning the PRUFUNGEN then passed between them.
+
+"Poor old Schwarz!" said Madeleine. "We shall be few enough, this year.
+Tell me, what of Heinz? I haven't seen him for an age."
+
+"I regret to say that Krafft is making an uncommon donkey of himself,"
+said Dove. "He had another shocking row with Schwarz last week."
+
+"Tch, tch, tch!" said Madeleine. "Heinz is a freak.--And Maurice Guest,
+what about him?"
+
+"I haven't seen him lately."
+
+"Indeed? How is that?"
+
+"I'm not in the same class with him now. His hour has been changed."
+
+"Has it indeed?" said Madeleine thoughtfully. This accounted for her
+having been unable to meet Maurice. "What's he playing, do you know?"
+
+"The G major Mendelssohn, I understand;" and Dove looked at her out of the
+corner of his eye.
+
+"How's he getting on with it?" she queried afresh, in the same indifferent
+tone.
+
+"I really couldn't say. As I mentioned, he's in another class."
+
+"Oh, but you must have heard!" said Madeleine. "It's no use putting me
+off," she added, with determination. "I want to find out about Mauzice."
+
+"And I fear I can't assist you. All I HAVE chanced to hear--mere rumour,
+of course--is that . . . well, if Guest doesn't pull himself together, he
+won't play at all.--By the way, what did you think of James the other
+night, in the LISZTVEREIN?"
+
+"Oh, that his octaves were marvellous, of course!" said Madeleine
+tartly. "But I warn you," she continued, "it's of no use changing the
+subject, or pretending you don't know. I intend to speak of Maurice."
+
+"Then it must be to some one else, Miss Madeleine, not to me."--Dove could
+never be induced to call her Madeleine, as her other friends did.
+
+"And why, pray, are you to be the exception?"
+
+"Because, as I've already mentioned, I don't see any more of Guest. He
+mixes in a different set now.--And as for me, well, my thoughts are
+occupied with, I trust, more profitable things."
+
+"What? You have thoughts, too?"
+
+"I hope you don't claim a monopoly of them?" said Dove, and smiled in his
+imperturbable way. As, however, Madeleine persisted, he grew grave. "It's
+not a pleasant subject. I should really rather not discuss it, Miss
+Madeleine."
+
+"Oh, for Heaven's sake, don't let us play the prudish or sentimental!"
+cried Madeleine, in a burst of impatience. "Of course, it isn't pleasant.
+Do you think I should "--"bother with you," was on her tongue. She checked
+herself, and subtituted--"trouble you about it, if it were? But Maurice
+was once a friend of ours--you don't deny it, I hope?" she threw in
+challengingly; for Dove muttered something to himself. "And I want to get
+at the truth about him. I'm sorrier than I can say, to hear, on all sides,
+what a fool he's making of himself."
+
+Dove was suavely silent.
+
+"Of course," continued Madeleine with a sarcastic inflection--"of course,
+I can't expect you to see it as I do. Men look at these things
+differently, I know. Possibly if I were a man, I, too, should stand by,
+with my hands in my pockets, and watch a friend butt his head against a
+stone wall--thinking it, indeed, rather good fun."
+
+She had touched Dove on a tender spot. "I can assure you, Miss Madeleine,"
+he said impressively, as they picked their steps across a dirty road--"I
+can assure you, you are mistaken. I think just as strictly in matters of
+this kind as you yourself.--But as to interfering in Guest's . . . in his
+private affairs, well, frankly, I shouldn't care to try it. He was always
+a curiously reserved fellow."
+
+"Reserved--obstinate-pig-headed!--call it what you like," said Madeleine.
+"But don't imagine I'm asking you to interfere. I only want you to
+tell me, briefly and simply, what you know about him. And to make it
+easier for you, I'll begin by telling you what I know.--It's an old story,
+isn't it, that Maurice once supplanted some one else in a certain young
+woman's favour? Well, now I hear that he, in turn, is to be laid on the
+shelf.--Is that true, or isn't it?"
+
+"Really, Miss Madeleine!--that's a very blunt way of putting it," said
+Dove uncomfortably.
+
+"Oh, when a friend's at stake, I can't hum and haw," said Madeleine, who
+could never keep her temper with Dove for long." I call a spade a spade,
+and rejoice to do it. What I ask you to tell me is, whether I've been
+correctly informed or not. Have you, too, heard Louise Dufrayer's name
+coupled with that of a man called Herries?"
+
+But Dove was stubborn. "As far as I'm concerned, Miss Madeleine, the truth
+is, I've hardly exchanged a word with Guest since spring. Into his . . .
+friendship with Miss Dufrayer, I have never felt it my business to
+inquire. I believe--from hearsay--that he is much changed. And I feel
+convinced his PRUFUNG will be poor. Indeed, I'm not sure that he should
+not be warned off it altogether."
+
+"Could that not be laid before him?"
+
+"I should not care to undertake it."
+
+There was nothing to be done with Dove; Madeleine felt that she was
+wasting her breath; and they walked across the broad centre of the
+ROSSPLATZ in silence.
+
+"Do you never think," she said, after a time, "how it would simplify life,
+if we were able to get above it for a bit, and see things without
+prejudice?--Here's a case now, where a little real fellowship and sympathy
+might work wonders. But no!--no interference!--that's the chief and only
+consideration!"
+
+It had stopped raining. Dove let down his umbrella, and carried it
+stiffly, at some distance from him, by reason of its dampness. "Believe
+me, Miss Madeleine," he said, as he emerged from beneath it. "Believe me,
+I make all allowance for your feelings, which do you credit. A woman's way
+of looking at these things is, thank God, humaner than ours. But it's a
+man's duty not to let his feelings run away with him. I agree with you,
+that it's a shocking affair. But Guest went into it with his eyes open.
+And that he could do so--but there was always something a little . . . a
+little peculiar about Guest."
+
+"I suppose there was. One can only be thankful, I suppose, that
+he's more or less of an exception--among his own countrymen, I mean, of
+course. Englishmen are not, as a rule, given to that kind of thing."
+
+"Thank God they're not!" said Dove with emotion.
+
+"We'll, our ways part here," said Madeleine, and halted. As she took her
+music from him, she asked: "By the way, when shall we be at liberty to
+congratulate you?"
+
+It was not at all "by the way" to Dove. However, he only smiled; for he
+had grown wiser, and no longer wore his heart on his coat-sleeve. "You
+shall be one of the first to hear, Miss Madeleine, when the news is made
+public."
+
+"Thanks greatly. Good-bye.--Oh, no, stop a moment!" cried Madeleine. It
+was more than she could bear to see him turn away thus, beaming with
+self-content. "Stop a moment. You won't mind my telling you, I'm sure,
+that I've been disappointed with you this afternoon. For I've always
+thought of you as a saviour in the hour of need, don't you know? One does
+indulge in these fancy pictures of one's friends--a strong man, helping
+with tact and example. And here you go, toppling my picture over, without
+the least remorse.--Well, you know your own business best, I suppose, but
+it's unkind of you, all the same, to destroy an illusion. One has few
+enough of them in this world.--Ta-ta!"
+
+She laughed satirically, and turned on her heel, regardless of the effect
+of her words.
+
+But Dove was not offended; on the contrary, he felt rather flattered. He
+did not, of course, care in the least about what Madeleine called her
+illusions; but the mental portrait she had drawn of him corresponded
+exactly to that attitude in which he was fondest of contemplating himself.
+For it could honestly be said that, hitherto, no one had ever applied to
+him for aid in vain: he was always ready, both with his time and with good
+advice. And the idea that, in the present instance, he was being untrue to
+himself, in other words, that he was letting an opportunity slip, ended by
+upsetting him altogether.
+
+Until now, he had not regarded Maurice and Maurice's doings from this
+point of view. By nature, Dove was opposed to excess of any kind; his was
+a clean, strong mind, which caused him instinctively to draw back from
+everything, in morals as in art, that passed a certain limit. Nothing on
+earth would have persuaded him to discuss his quondam friend's backsliding
+with Madeleine Wade; he was impregnated with the belief that such matters
+were unfit for virtuous women's ears, and he applied his
+conviction indiscriminaetely. Now, however, the notion of Maurice as a
+Poor erring sheep, waiting, as it were, to be saved--this idea was of
+undeniable attractiveness to Dove, and the more he revolved it, the more
+convinced he grew of its truth.
+
+But he had reasons for hesitating. Having valiantly overcome his own
+disappointments, first in the case of Ephie, then of pretty Susie, he now,
+in his third suit, was on the brink of success. The object of his present
+attachment was a Scotch lady, no longer in her first youth, and several
+years older than himself but of striking appearance, vivacious manners,
+and, if report spoke true, considerable fortune. Her appearance in Leipzig
+was due to the sudden burst of energy which often inspires a woman of the
+Scotch nation when she feels her youth escaping her. Miss MacCallum, who
+was abroad nominally to acquire the language, was accompanied by her aged
+father and mother; and it was with these two old people that it be hoved
+Dove to ingratiate himself; for, according to the patriarchal habits of
+their race, the former still guided and determined their daughter's mode
+of life, as though she were thirteen instead of thirty. Dove was obliged
+to be of the utmost circumspection in his behaviour; for the old couple,
+uprooted violently from their native soil, lived in a mild but constant
+horror at the iniquity of foreign ways. They held the pro fession of music
+to be an unworthy one, and threw up their hands in dismay at the number of
+young people here complacently devoting themselves to such a frivolous
+object. It was necessary for Dove to prove to them that a student of music
+might yet be a man of untarnished principles and blame less honour. And he
+did not find the task a hard one; the whole bent of his mind was towards
+sobriety. He frequented the American church with his new friends on Sunday
+after noon; gave up skating on that day; went with the old gentleman to
+Motets and Passions; and eschewed the opera.
+
+But now, his ambition had been insidiously roused, and day by day it grew
+stronger. If only the affair with Maurice had not been of so unsavoury a
+nature! Did he, Dove, become seriously involved, it might be difficult to
+prove to judges so severe as his future parents-in-law, that he had acted
+out of pure goodness of heart. For, that he would be embroiled, in other
+words, that he would have success in his mission, there was no manner of
+doubt in his mind--a conviction he shared with the generality of mankind:
+that it is only necessary for an offender's eyes to be opened to
+the enormity of his wrongdoing, for him to be reasonable and to renounce
+it.
+
+While Dove hesitated thus, torn between his reputation on the one hand,
+his missionary zeal on the other; while he hesitated, an incident
+occurred, which acted as a kind of moral fingerpost. In the piano-class,
+one day, just as Dove was about to leave the room, Schwarz asked him if he
+were not a friend of Herr Guest's. The latter had been absent now from two
+lessons in succession. Was he ill? Did no one know what had happened to
+him? Dove made light of the friendship, but volunteered his services, and
+was bidden to make inquiries.
+
+He went that afternoon.
+
+Frau Krause looked a little gruffer than of old; and left him to find his
+own way to Maurice's room. In accordance with the new state of things,
+Dove knocked ceremoniously at the door. While his knuckles still touched
+the wood, it was flung open, and he stood face to face with Maurice. For a
+moment the latter did not seem to recognise his visitor; he had evidently
+been expecting some one else.
+
+Then he repaired his tardiness, ceased to hold the door, and Dove entered,
+apologising for his intrusion.
+
+"Just a moment. I won't detain you. As you were absent from the class all
+last week, Schwarz asked to-day if you were ill, and I said I would step
+round and see."
+
+"Very good of you, I'm sure. Sit down," said Maurice. His face changed as
+he spoke; a look of relief and, at the same time, of disappointment
+flitted across it.
+
+"Thanks. If I am not disturbing you," answered Dove. As he said these
+words, he threw a glance, the significance of which might have been
+grasped by a babe, at the piano. It had plainly not been opened that day.
+
+Maurice understood. "No, I was not practising," he said. "But I have to go
+out shortly," and he looked at his watch.
+
+"Quite so. Very good. I won't detain you," repeated Dove, and sat down on
+the proffered chair. "But not practising? My dear fellow, how is that? Are
+you so far forward already that it isn't necessary? Or is it a fact that
+you are not feeling up to the mark?"
+
+"Oh, I'm all right. I get my work over in the morning."
+
+Now he, too, sat down, at the opposite side of the table. Clearing his
+throat, Dove gazed at the sinner before him. He began to see that his
+errand was not going to be an easy one; where no hint was taken, it was
+difficult to insert even the thinnest edge of the wedge. He
+resolved to use finesse; and, for several of the precious moments at his
+disposal, he talked, as if at random, of other things.
+
+Maurice tapped the table. He kept his eyes fixed on Dove's face, as though
+he were drinking in his companion's solemn utterances. In reality, whole
+minutes passed without his knowing what was said. At Dove's knock, he had
+been certain that a message had come from Louise--at last. This was the
+night of the ball; and still she had given him no promise that she would
+not go. They had parted, the evening before, after a bitter quarrel; and
+he had left her, vowing that he would not return till she sent for him. He
+had waited the whole day, in vain, for a sign. What was Dove with his
+pompous twaddle to him? Every slight sound on the stairs or in the passage
+meant more. He was listening, listening, without cessation.
+
+When he came back to himself, he heard Dove droning on, like a machine
+that has been wound up and cannot stop.
+
+"Now, I hope you won't mind my saying so," were the next words that
+pierced his brain. "You must not be offended at my telling you; but you
+are hardly fulfilling the expectations we, your friends, you know, had
+formed of you. My dear fellow, you really must pull yourself together, or
+February will find you still unprepared."
+
+Maurice went a shade paler; he was clear, now, as to the object of Dove's
+visit. But he answered in an off-hand way. "Oh, there's time enough yet."
+
+"No. That's a mistaken point of view, if I may say so," replied Dove in
+his blandest manner. "Time requires to be taken by the forelock, you
+know."
+
+"Does it?" Maurice allowed the smile that was expected of him to cross his
+face.
+
+"Most emphatically--And we fellow-students of yours are not the only
+people who have noticed a certain--what shall I say?--a certain abatement
+of energy on your part. Schwarz sees it, too--or I am much mistaken."
+
+"What?--he, too?" said Maurice, and pretended a mild surprise. For some
+seconds now he had been mentally debating with himself whether he should
+not, there and then, show Dove the door. He decided against it. A "Damn
+your interference!" meant plain-speaking, on both sides; it meant a
+bandying of words; and more expenditure of strength than he had to spare
+for Dove. Once more he drew out and consulted his watch.
+
+"Unfortunately, yes," said Dove, ignoring the hint. "I assume it,
+from something he let drop this afternoon. Now, you know, your Mendelssohn
+ought to have been a brilliant piece of work--yes, the expression is not
+too strong. And it still must be. My dear Guest, what I came to say to you
+to-day--one, at any rate, of the reasons that brought me--was, that you
+must not allow your interest in what you are doing to flag at the eleventh
+hour."
+
+Maurice laughed. "Oh, certainly not! Most awfully good of you to trouble."
+
+"No trouble at all," Dove assured him. He flicked some dust from his
+trouser-knee before he spoke again. "I . . . er . . . that is, I had some
+talk the other day with Miss Wade."
+
+"Indeed!" replied Maurice, and was now able accurately to gauge the motor
+origin of Dove's appearance. "How is she? How is Madeleine?"
+
+"She was speaking of you, Guest. She would, I think, like to see you."
+
+"Yes. I've rather neglected her lately, I'm afraid.--But when there's so
+much to do, you know . . ."
+
+"It's a pity," said Dove, passing over the last words, and nodding his
+head sagaciously. "She's a staunch friend of yours, is Miss Madeleine. I
+think it wouldn't be too much to say, she was feeling a little hurt at
+your neglect of her."
+
+"Really? I had no idea so many people took an interest in me."
+
+"That is just where you are mistaken," said Dove warmly. "We all do. And
+for that very reason, I said to myself, I will be spokesman for the rest:
+I'll go to him and tell him he must pull through, and do himself
+credit--and Schwarz, too. We are so few this year, you know."
+
+"Yes, poor old man! He has got badly left."
+
+"Yes. That was one reason. And then . . . but you assure me, don't you,
+that you will not take what I am going to say amiss?"
+
+"Not in the least. It's awfully decent of you. But I'm sorry to say my
+time's up. And every minute is precious just now--as you know yourself."
+
+He rose, and, for the third time, referred to his watch. After an
+ineffectual attempt to continue, Dove was also forced to rise, with the
+best part of his message unuttered. And Maurice hurried him, glum and
+crestfallen, to the door, for fear of the still worse tactlessness of
+which he might make himself guilty.
+
+They groped in silence along the dark lobby. For the sake of
+parting with a friendly and neutral word, Maurice said, as he opened the
+door: "By the way, I hear we shall soon have to offer congratulations and
+good wishes."
+
+To his surprise, Dove, who had already crossed the threshold, looked
+blank, and drew himself up.
+
+"Indeed?" he said, and the tone was, for him, quite short. "I. . the fact
+is . . . I've no idea of what you are referring to."
+
+On re-entering his room, Maurice went back to the window, and taking up
+his former attitude, began to beat anew that tattoo on the panes, which
+had been his chief employment during the day. His eyes were sore with
+straining at the corner of the street, tired of looking at his watch to
+see how the time passed. He had steadfastly believed that Louise would
+yield in this. matter, and, at the last, recall him in a burst of
+impulsive regret. But, as the day crawled by without a word from her, his
+confident conviction weakened; and, at the same time, his resolve not to
+go back till she sent for him, failed. He repeated, in memory, some of the
+bitter things they had said to each other, to see if he had not left
+himself a loophole of escape; but only with one half of his brain: the
+other was persistently occupied with the emptiness of the street below.
+When a clock struck half-past seven, he could bear the suspense no longer:
+he put on his hat and coat, and went out. He felt tired and unslept, and
+dragged along as if his body were a weight to him. A fine snow was
+falling, which froze into icicles on the beards of the passers-by, and on
+the glistening pavements. The distance had never seemed so long to him; it
+had also never seemed so short.
+
+A faint and foolish hope still refused to be extinguished. But it went out
+directly he had unlocked the door; and he learned what he had come to
+learn, without the exchange of a word. The truth met him, that he should
+have been here hours ago, commanding, imploring; instead of which he had
+sat at home, nursing a futile and paltry pride.
+
+The room was warm, and bright with extra candles. It was also in that
+state of confusion which accompanied an elaborate toilet on the part of
+Louise. Fully dressed, she stood before the console-glass, and arranged
+something in her hair. She did not turn at his entrance, but she raised
+her eyes and met his in the mirror, without pausing in what she was doing.
+
+He looked over her shoulder at her reflected face. The cold steadiness,
+the open hostility of her look, took his strength away. He sat
+down on the foot-end of the bed, and put his head in his hands. Minutes
+passed, and still he remained in this position. For what was the use of
+his speaking? Her mind was made up; nothing would move her now.
+
+Then came the noise of wheels in the street below. Uncovering his eyes,
+Maurice looked at her again; and, as he did so, his feelings which, until
+now, had had something of the nature of a personal wound, gave place to
+others with the rush of a storm. She wore the same sparkling, low-cut
+dress as on the previous occasion; arms and shoulders were as ruthlessly
+bared to view. He remembered what he had heard said of her that night, and
+felt that his powers of endurance were at an end. With a stifled
+exclamation, he got up from the bed, and going past her, into the half of
+the room beyond the screen, caught up the first object that came to hand,
+and threw it to the floor. It was a Dresden-china figure, and broke to
+pieces.
+
+Louise gave a cry, and came running out to see what he had done. "Are you
+mad? How dare you! . . . break my things."
+
+She held a candle above her head, and by its light, he saw, in the skin of
+neck and shoulder, all the lines and folds that were formed by the raising
+of her arm. He now saw, too, that her hair was dressed in a different way,
+that her dark eyebrows had been made still darker, and that she was
+powdered. This discovery had a peculiar effect on him: it rendered it
+easier for him to say hard things to her; at the same time, it
+strengthened his determination not to let her go out of the house. Moving
+aimlessly about the room, he stumbled against a chair, and kicked it from
+him.
+
+"A month ago, if some one had sworn to me that you would treat me as you
+are doitng to-night, I should have laughed in his face," he said at last.
+
+Louise had put the candle down, and was standing with her back to him.
+Taking up a pair of long, black gloves, she began to draw one over her
+hand. She did not look up at his words, but went on stroking the kid of
+the glove.
+
+"You're only doing it to revenge yourself--I know that! But what have I
+done, that you should take less thought for my feelings than if I were a
+dog?"
+
+Still she did not speak.
+
+"You won't really go, Louise?--you won't have the heart to.--I say you
+shall not go! It will be the end--the end of everything!--if you leave
+the house to-night."
+
+She pulled her dress from his hand. "You're out of your senses, I
+think. The end of everything! Because, for once, I choose to have some
+pleasure on my own account! Any other man would be glad to see the woman
+he professes to care for, enjoy herself. But you begrudge it to me. You
+say my pleasures shall only come through you--who have taken to making
+life a burden to me! Can't you understand that I'm glad to get away from
+you, and your ill-humours and mean, abominable jealousy. You're not my
+master. I'm not your slave." She tugged at a recalcitrant glove. "It is
+absurd," she went on a moment later. "All because I wish to go out alone
+for once.--But did I even want to? Why, if it means so much to you,
+couldn't you have bought a ticket and come too? But no! you wouldn't go
+yourself, and so I was not to go either. It's on a level with all your
+other behaviour."
+
+"I go!" he cried. "To watch you the whole evening in that man's arms!--No,
+thank you! It's not good enough.--You, with your indecent style of
+dancing!"
+
+She wheeled round, as if the insult had struck her; and for a moment faced
+him, with open lips. Then she thought better of it: she laughed
+derisively, with a wanton undertone, in order to hurt him.
+
+"You would at least have had me under your own eyes."
+
+As she spoke, she nodded to the old woman who opened the door to say that
+the droschke waited below. A lace scarf was lying on the table; Louise
+twisted it mechanically round her head, and began to struggle with an
+evening cloak. Just as she had succeeded in getting it over her shoulders,
+Maurice took her by the arms and bent her backwards, so that the cloak
+fell to the floor.
+
+"You shall not go!"
+
+She stemmed her hands against him, and determinedly, yet. with caution,
+pushed herself free.
+
+"My dress--my hair! How dare you!"
+
+"What do I care for your dress or your hair? You make me mad!"
+
+"And what do I care whether you're mad or not? Take your hands away!"
+
+"Louise! . . . for God's sake! . . . not with that man. At least, not with
+him. He has said infamous things of you. I never told you--yes, I heard
+him say--heard him compare you with . . . soiled goods he called
+you.--Louise! Louise!"
+
+"Have you any more insults for me?"
+
+"No, no more!" He leaned his back against the door. "Only this: if
+you leave this room to-night, it's the end."
+
+She had picked up her cloak again. "The end!" she repeated, and looked
+contemptuously at him. "I should welcome it, if it were.--But you're
+wrong. The end, the real end, came long ago. The beginning was the
+end!--Open that door, and let me out!"
+
+He heard her go along the hall, heard the front door shut behind her, and,
+after a pause, heard the deeper tone of the house door. The droschke drove
+away. After that, he stood at the window, looking out into the pitch-dark
+night. Behind him, the landlady set the room in order, and extinguished
+the additional candles.
+
+When she had finished, and shut the door, Maurice faced the empty room.
+His eyes ranged slowly over it; and he made a vague gesture that signified
+nothing. A few steps took him to the writing-table, on which her muff was
+lying. He lifted it up, and a bunch of violets fell into his hand. They
+brought her before him as nothing else could have done. Beside the bed, he
+went down on his knees, and drawing her pillow to him, pressed it round
+his head.
+
+The end, the end!--the beginning the end: there was truth in what she had
+said. Their love had had no stamina in it, no vital power. He was losing
+her, steadily and surely losing her, powerless to help it--rather it
+seemed as if some malignant spirit urged him to hasten on the crisis.
+Their thoughts seemed hopelessly at war.--And yet, how he loved her! He
+made himself no illusions about her now; he understood just what she was,
+and what she would always be; the many conflicting impulses of her nature
+lay bare to him. But he loved her, loved her: all the dead weight of his
+physical craving for her was on him again, confounding, overmastering.
+None the less, she had left him; she had no need for him; and the hours
+would come, oftener and oftener, when she could do without him, when, as
+now, she voluntarily sought the company of other men. The thought
+suffocated him; he rose to his feet, and hastened out of the house.
+
+A little before one o'clock, he was stationed opposite the sideentrance to
+the HOTEL DE PRUSSE. He had a long time to wait. As two o'clock
+approached, small batches of people emerged, at first at intervals, then
+more and more frequently. Among the last were Herries and Louise. Maurice
+remained standing in the shadow of some houses, until they had parted from
+their companions. He heard her voice above all the rest; it rang
+out clear and resonant, just as on that former occasion when she had drunk
+freely of champagne.
+
+With many final words and false partings, she and Herries separated from
+the group, and turned to walk down the street. As they did so, Maurice
+sprang out from his hiding-place, and was suddenly in front of them,
+blocking their progress.
+
+At his unexpected apparition, both started; and when he roughly took hold
+of her arm, Louise gave a short cry. Herries put out his hand, and smacked
+Maurice's down.
+
+"What are you doing there? Take your hands off this lady, damn you!" he
+cried in broken German, not recognising Maurice, and believing that he had
+to deal with an ordinary NACHTSCHWARMER.
+
+The savageness with which he was turned on, enlightened him. "Damn you!"
+retorted Maurice in English. "Take your hands off her yourself I She
+belongs to me--to me, do you hear?--and I intend to keep her."
+
+"You drunken cur!" said Herries. He had instinctively allowed Louise to
+withdraw her arm; now he stood irresolute, uncertain how she would wish
+him to act. She had gone very pale; he believed she was afraid. "Isn't
+there a droschke anywhere?" he said, and looked angrily round. "I really
+can't see you exposed to this . . . this sort of thing, you know."
+
+Louise answered hurriedly. "No, no. And please go! I shall be all right.
+I'm sorry.--I had enjoyed it so much. I will tell you another time, how
+much. Good night, and thank you. No . . . PLEASE!> . . . yes, a delightful
+evening." Her words were almost inaudible.
+
+"Delightful indeed!" said Herries with warmth. Then he stood aside, raised
+his hat, and let them pass.
+
+Maurice had his hand on her wrist, and he dragged her after him, over the
+frozen pavements, far more quickly than she could in comfort go, hampered
+as she was by snow-boots and by her heavy cloak. But she fqllowed him,
+allowed herself to be drawn, without protest. She felt strangely
+will-less. Only sometimes, when the thought of the indignity he had laid
+upon her came over her anew. did she whisper: "How dare you! ... oh, how
+dare you!"
+
+He did not look at her, or answer her, and all might have gone well, so
+oddly did this treatment affect her, had he only persisted in it. But the
+mere contact of her hand softened him towards her; her nearness worked on
+him as it never failed to do. He was exhausted, too, mentally and
+physically, and at the thought that, for this night at least, his
+sufferings were over, he could have shed tears of relief. Slackening his
+pace, he began to speak, began to excuse and exculpate himself before ever
+she had blamed him, endeavouring to make her understand something of what
+he had gone through. In advance, and before she had expressed it, he
+sought to break down her spirit of animosity.
+
+The longer he spoke, the harder she felt herself grow. He was at it again,
+back at his eternal self-justification. Oh, why, for this one evening at
+least, could he not have enforced his will, and have made her do what he
+wished, without explanation! But the one plain, simple way was the only
+way he never thought of taking. "I hate you and despise you! I shall never
+forgive you for your behaviour to-night!--never!" And now it was she who
+pressed forward, to get away from him.
+
+He turned the key in the house-door. But before he could open the door,
+Louise, pushing in front of him, threw it back, entered the house, and,
+the next moment, the door banged in his face. He had just time to withdraw
+his hand. He heard her steps on the stair, mounting, growing fainter; he
+heard the door above open and shut.
+
+For a second or two, he stood listening to these sounds. But when it
+dawned on him that she had shut him out, he pressed both hands against the
+wood of the heavy door, and tr to shake it open. He even beat his fist
+against it, and only desisted from this when his knuckles began to smart.
+
+Then, on looking down, he saw that the key was still in the lock. He
+stared at it, stupidly, without understanding. But, yes--it was his own
+key; he himself had put it in. He took it out again, and holding it in his
+hand, looked at it, after the fashion of a drunken man, who does not
+recognise the object he holds. And even while he did this, he burst into a
+peal of laughter, which made him lean for support against the wall of the
+house. The noise he made sounded idiotic, sounded mad, in the quiet
+street; but he was unable to contain himself. She had left him the
+key--had left the key! Oh, what a fool he was!
+
+His laughter died away. He opened the door, noiselessly, as he had learned
+by practice to do, and as noiselessly entered the vestibule and went up
+the stairs.
+
+
+
+
+IX.
+
+
+
+Several versions of the contretemps with Herries were afloat immediately.
+All agreed in one point: Maurice Guest had been in an advanced stage of
+intoxication. A scuffle was said to have taken place in the deserted
+street; there had been tears, and prayers, and shrill accusing voices. In
+the version that reached Madeleine's cars, blows were mentioned. She stood
+aghast at the disclosures the story made, and at all these implied. Until
+now, Maurice had at least striven to preserve appearances. If once you
+became callous enough not to care what people said of you, you wilfully
+made of yourself a social outcast.
+
+That same afternoon, as she was mounting the steps of the Conservatorium,
+she came face to face with Krafft. They had not met for weeks; and
+Madeleine remarked this, as they stood together. But she was not thinking
+very deeply of him or his affairs; and when she asked him if he would go
+across to her room, and wait for her there, she was following an impulse
+that had no connection with him. As usual, Krafft had nothing particular
+to do; and when she returned, half an hour later, she found him lying on
+her sofa, with his arms under his head, his knees crossed above him. The
+air of the room was grey with smoke; but, for once, Madeleine set no limit
+to his cigarettes. Sitting down at the table, she looked meditatively at
+him. For some moments neither spoke.
+
+But as Krafft drew out his case to take another cigarette, a tattered
+volume of Reclam's UNIVERSAL LIBRARY fell from his pocket, and spread
+itself on the floor. Madeleine stooped and pieced it together.
+
+"What have we here ?--ah, your Bible!" she said sarcastically: it was a
+novel by a modern Danish poet, who died young. "You carry it about with
+you, I see."
+
+"To-day I needed STIMMUNG. But don't say Bible; that's an error of taste.
+Say ' death-book.' One can study death in it, in all its forms."
+
+"To give you STIMMUNG! I can't understand your love for the book, Heinz.
+It's morbid."
+
+"Everything's morbid that the ordinary mortal doesn't wish to be
+reminded of. Some day--if I don't turn stoker or acrobat beforehand, and
+give up peddling in the emotions--some day I shall write music to it. That
+would be a melodrama worth making."
+
+"Morbid, Heirtz, morbid!"
+
+"All women are not of your opinion. I remember once hearing a woman say,
+had the author still lived, she would have pilgrimaged barefoot to see
+him."
+
+"Oh, I dare say. There are women enough of that kind."
+
+"Fools, of course?"
+
+"Extravagant; unbalanced. The class of person that suffers from a diseased
+temperament.--But men can make fools of themselves, too. There are
+specimens enough here to start a museum with."
+
+"Of which you, as NORMALMENSCH, could be showman."
+
+Madeleine pushed her chair back towards the head of the, sofa, so that she
+came to sit out of the range of Krafft's eyes.
+
+"Talking of fools," she said slowly, "have you seen anything of Maurice
+Guest lately?"
+
+Krafft lowered a spike of ash into the tray. "I have not."
+
+"Yes; I heard he had got into a different hour," she said disconnectedly.
+As, however, Krafft remained impassive, she took the leap. "Is there--can
+nothing be done for him, Heinz?"
+
+Here Krafft did just what she had expected him to do: rose on his elbow,
+and turned to look at her. But her face was inscrutable.
+
+"Explain," he said, dropping back into his former position.
+
+"Oh, explain!" she echoed, firing up at once. "I suppose if a
+fellow-mortal were on his way to the scaffold, you men would still ask for
+explanations. Listen to me. You're the only man here Maurice was at all
+friendly with--I shouldn't turn to you, you scoffer, you may be sure of
+it, if I knew of anyone else. He liked you; and at one time, what you said
+had a good deal of influence with him. It might still have. Go to him,
+Heinz, and talk straight to him. Make him think of his future, and of all
+the other things he has apparently forgotten.--You needn't laugh! You
+could do it well enough if you chose--if you weren't so hideously
+cynical.--Oh, don't laugh like that! You're loathsome when you do. And
+there's nothing natural about it."
+
+But Krafft enjoyed himself undisturbed. "Not natural? It ought to be," he
+said when he could speak again. "Oh, you English, you English!--was there
+ever a people like you? Don't talk to me of men and women, Mada.
+Only an Englishwoman would look at the thing as you do. How you would love
+to reform and straitlace all us unregenerate youths! You've done your best
+for me--in vain!--and now it's Guest. Mada, you have the Puritan's watery
+fluid in your veins, and Cain's mark on your brow: the mark of the raceace
+that carries its Sundays, its--language, its drinks, its dress, and its
+conventions with it, whereever it goes, and is surprised, and mildly
+shocked, if these things are not instantly adopted by the poor, purblind
+foreigner.--You are the missionaries of the world!"
+
+"Oh, I've heard all that before. Some day, Heinz, you really must come to
+England and revise your impressions of us. However, I'm not going to let
+you shirk the subject. I will tell you this. I know the MILIEU Maurice
+Guest has sprung from, and I can judge, as you never can, how totally he
+is unfitting himself to return. The way he's going on--I hear on all sides
+that he'll never 'make his PRUFUNG,' now, and you yourself know his
+certificate won't be worth a straw."
+
+"There's something fascinating, I admit," Krafft went on, "about a people
+of such a purely practical genius. And it follows, as a matter of course,
+that, being the extreme individualists you are, you should question the
+right of others to their particular mode of existence. For individualism
+of this type implies a training, a culture, a grand style, which it has
+taken centuries to attain--WE have still centuries to go, before we get
+there. If we ever do! For we are the artists among nations--waxen
+temperaments, formed to take on impressions, to be moulded this way and
+that, by our age, our epoch. You are the moralists, we are the . . ."
+
+"The immoralists."
+
+"If you like. In your vocabulary, that's a synonym for KUNSTLER."
+
+"You make me ill, Heinz!"
+
+"KUSS' DIE HAND!" He was silent, following a smoke-ring with his eyes.
+"Seriously, Mada," he said after a moment--but there was no answering
+seriousness in his face, which mocked as usual. "Seriously, now, I suppose
+you wouldn't admit what this DRESSUR, this HOHE SCHULE Guest is going
+through, might be of service to him in the end?"
+
+"No, indeed, I wouldn't," she answered hotly. "You talk as if he were a
+circus-horse. Think of him now, and think of him as he was when he first
+came here. A good fellow--wasn't he? And full to the brim of plans and
+projects--ridiculous enough, some of them--but the great thing is to
+be able to make plans. As long as a man can do that, he's on the upward
+grade.--And he had talent, you said so yourself, and unlimited
+perseverance."
+
+"Good God, Madeleine" burst out Krafft. "That you should have been in this
+place as long as you have, and still remain so immaculate!--Surely you
+realise that something more than talent and perseverance is necessary? One
+can have talent as one has a hat . . . use it or not as one likes.--I tell
+you, the mill Guest is going through may be his salvation--artistically."
+
+"And morally?" asked Madeleine, not without bitterness. "Must one give
+thanks then, if one's friend doesn't turn out a genius?"
+
+Krafft shrugged his shoulders. "As you take it. The artist has as much to
+do with morality, as, let us say, your musical festivals have to do with
+art.--And if his genius isn't strong enough to float him, he goes under,
+UND DAMIT BASTA! The better for art. There are bunglers enough.--But I'll
+tell you this," he rose on his elbow again, and spoke more warmly. "Since
+I've seen what our friend is capable of; how he has allowed himself to be
+absorbed; since, in short, he has behaved In such a highly un-British
+way--well, since then, I have some hope of him. He seems open to
+impression.--And impressions are the only things that matter to the
+artist."
+
+"Oh, don't go on, please! I'm sick to death of the very words art and
+artist."
+
+"Cheer up, Mada! You've nothing of the kind in your blood." He stretched
+himself and yawned. "Nor has he, either, I believe. A face may deceive.
+And a clear head, and unlimited perseverance, and intelligence, and
+ambition--none of these things is enough. The Lord asks more of his
+chosen."
+
+Madeleine clasped her hands behind her head, and tilted back her chair.
+
+"So you couldn't interfere, I see? Your artistic conscience would forbid
+it."
+
+"Why don't you do it yourself?" He scrutinised her face, with a sarcastic
+smile.
+
+"Oh, say it out! I know what you think."
+
+"And am I not right?"
+
+"No, you're not. How I hate the construction you put on things! In your
+eyes, nothing is pure or disinterested. You can't even imagine to yourself
+a friendship between a man and a woman. Such a thing isn't known
+here--in your nation of artists. Your men are too inflammatory, and too
+self-sufficient, to want their calves fatted for any but the one
+sacrifice. Girls have their very kitchen-aprons tied on them with an
+undermeaning. And poor souls, who can blame them for submitting! What a
+fate is theirs, if they don't manage to catch a man! Gossip and needlework
+are only slow poison."
+
+"Now you're spiteful. But I'll tell YOU something. Such friendships as you
+speak of are only possible where the woman is old--or ugly--or abnormal,
+in some way: a man-woman, or a clever woman, or some other freak of
+nature. Now, our women are, as a rule, sexually healthy. They know what
+they're here for, too, and are not ashamed of it. Also, they still have
+their share of physical attraction. While yours--good God! I wonder you
+manage to keep the breed going!"
+
+"Stop, Heinz!" said Madeleine sternly. "You are illogical, and indecent;
+and you know there's a limit I don't choose to let you pass.--You're
+wrong, too. You've only to look about you, here, with unbiassed eyes, to
+see which race the prettiest girls belong to.--But never mind! You only
+launch out in this way that you may not be obliged to discuss Maurice
+Guest. I know you. I can read you like a book."
+
+"You are not very old . . . or ugly . . . or abnormal, Mada."
+
+She smiled in spite of herself. "And are we not friends, pray?"
+
+"Something that way.--But in all you say about Guest, the impersonal note
+is wanting. You're jealous."
+
+"I'm nothing of the sort!--But you'll at least allow me to resent seeing a
+friend of mine in the claws of this . . . this vampire?"
+
+Krafft laughed. "Vampire is good!--A poor, distraught--"
+
+"Spare your phrases, Heinz. She's bad through and through, and stupid into
+the bargain."
+
+"Lulu stupid? EI, EI, Mada! Your eyes are indeed askew. She has a touch of
+the other extreme--of genius."
+
+"NA!--Well, if this is another of your manifestations of genius, then
+permit me to hate--no, to loathe it, in all its forms."
+
+"GANZ NACH BELIEBEN! It's a privilege of your sex, you know. There never
+was a woman yet who didn't prefer a good, square talent."
+
+"A crack this way, and it's madness; that, and the world says
+genius. And some people have a peculiar gift for discovering it. Those who
+set themselves to it can find genius in a flea's jump."
+
+"But has it never occurred to you, that the power of loving--that some
+women have a genius for loving?--No, why do I ask! For if I am a book, you
+are a poster--a placard."
+
+"What a people you are for words! You make phrases about everything.
+That's a ridiculous thing to say. If every fickle woman--"
+
+"Fickle woman! fickle fiddle-sticks!" he interrupted. "That's only a tag.
+The people whose business it is to decide these things--DIE HERREN
+DICHTER--are not agreed to this day whet it's man who's fickle or woman.
+In this mood it's one, in that, the other; and the silly world bleats it
+after them, like sheep."
+
+"Well, if you wish me to put it more plainly: if what you say were true,
+vice would be condoned."
+
+"Vice!!" he cried with derision, and sat up and faced her. "Vice!--my dear
+Mada!--sweet, innocent child! . . . No, no. A special talent is needed for
+that kind of thing; an unlimited capacity for suffering; an entire
+renunciation of what is commonly called happiness! You hold the good old
+Philistine opinions. You think, no doubt, of two lovers living together in
+delirious pleasure, in SAUS UND BRAUS.--Nothing could be falser. A woman
+only needs to have the higher want in her nature, and the suffering is
+there, too. She's born gifted with the faculty. And a woman of the type
+we're speaking of, is as often as not the flower of her kind.--Or becomes
+it.--For see all she gains on her way: the mere passing from hand to hand;
+the intense impressionable nature; the process of being moulded--why, even
+the common prostitute gets a certain manly breadth of mind, such as you
+other women never arrive at. Each one who comes and goes leaves her
+something: an experience--a turn of thought--it may be only an
+intuition--which she has not had before."
+
+"And the contamination? The soul?" cried Madeleine; two red spots had come
+out on her cheeks.
+
+"As you understand it, such a woman has no soul, and doesn't need one. All
+she needs is tact and taste."
+
+"You are the eternal scoffer."
+
+"I never was more serious in my life.--But let us put it another way. What
+does a--what does any beautiful woman want with a soul, or brains, or
+morals, or whatever you choose to call it? Let her give thanks, night and
+day, that she is what she is: one of the few perfect things on
+this imperfect earth. Let her care for her beauty, and treasure it, and
+serve it. Time ,enough when it is gone, to cultivate the soul--if, indeed,
+she doesn't bury herself alive, as it's her duty to do, instead of
+decaying publicly. Mada! do you know a more disgusting, more humiliating
+sight than the sagging of the skin on a neck that was once like marble?--
+than a mouth visibly losing its form?--the slender shoulders we have
+adored, broadening into massivity?--all the fine spiritual delicacy of
+youth being touched to heaviness?--all the barbarous cruelty, in short,
+with which, before our eyes, time treats the woman who is no longer
+young.--No, no! As long as she has her beauty, a woman is under no
+necessity to bolster up her conscience, or to be reasonable, or to think.
+--Think? God forbid! There are plain women enough for that. We don't ask
+our Lady of Milo to be witty for us, or to solve us problems. Believe me,
+there is more thought, more eloquence, in the corners of a beautiful
+mouth--the upward look of two dark eyes--than in all women have said or
+done from Sappho down. Springy colour, light, music, perfume: they are all
+to be found in the curves of a perfect throat or arm."
+
+Madeleine's silence bristled with irony.
+
+"And that," he went on, "was where the girl you are blaspheming had such
+exquisite tact. She knew this. Her instinct taught her what was required
+of her. She would fall into an attitude, and remain motionless in it, as
+if she knew the eye must feast its full. Or if she did move, and
+speak--for she, too, had hours of a desperate garrulity--then one was
+content, as well. Her vitality was so intense that her whole body spoke
+when her lips did; she would pass so rapidly from one position to another
+that you had to shut your eyes for fear that, out of all this multitude,
+you would not be able to carry one away with you.--If some of her ways of
+expressing herself in motion could be caught and fixed, a sculptor's fame
+would be made.--A painter's, if he could reproduce the trick she has of
+smiling entirely with her eyes and eyebrows.--And then her hands! Mada,
+I wonder you other women don't weep for envy of them. She has only to
+raise them, to pass them over her forehead, or to finger at her hair,
+and the world is hers.--Do you really think a man asks soul of a woman
+with such eyes and hand as those?--Good God, no! He worships her and
+adores her. Were is only one place for him, and that's on his knees
+before her."
+
+"Well, really, Heinz!" said Madeleine, and the spots on her cheeks burnt a
+dull red. "In imagination, do you know, I'm carried just three
+years backwards? Do you remember that spring evening, when you came
+rushing in here to me? 'I've seen the most beautiful woman in the world,
+and I'm drunk with her.' And how I couldn't understand? For I thought her
+plain, just as I still do.--But then, if I remember aright, your
+admiration was by no means the platonic, artistic affair
+it . . . hm! . . . is now."
+
+"It was not.--But now, you understand, Mada, that I think a man makes a
+good exchange of career, and success, and other such accidents of his
+material existence, for the right to touch these hands at will. The one
+thing necessary is, that he be fit for the post. I demand of him that he
+be a gourmand, a connoisseur in beauty. And it's here, mind you, that I
+have doubts of our friend.--Is it clear to you?"
+
+"As clear as day, thanks. And you may be QUITE sure: of me never applying
+to you for help again. I shall respect your principles."
+
+"And mind you, I don't say Guest may not come out of the affair all
+right--enriched for the rest of his life."
+
+"Very good. And now you may go. I regret that I ever bothered with you."
+
+Krafft went across to where Madeleine was standing, put his hands on her
+two shoulders, and laid his head on his right arm, so that she, who was
+taller than he was, looked down on the roundnesses of his curly hair.
+"You're a good fellow, Mada--a good fellow! JA, JA--who knows! If you had
+had just a little more of the EWIGWEIBLICHE about you!"
+
+"Too much honour . . . But you don't expect Englishwomen to join your
+harem, do, you?"
+
+"There would have been a certain repose in belonging to a woman of your
+type. But it's the charm--physical charm--we poor wretches can't do
+without."
+
+"Upon my word, it's almost a declaration!" cried Madeleine, not unnettled.
+"Take my advice, Heinz. Hie you home, and marry the person you ought to.
+Take pity on the poor thing's constancy. Unless," she added, a moment
+later, with a sarcastic laugh, "since you're still so infatuated with
+Louise, you persuade her to transfer her favours to you. That would solve
+all difficulties in the most satisfactory way. She would have the variety
+that seems necessary to her existence; you could lie on your knees before
+her all day long; and our friend would be restored to sanity. Think it
+over, Heinz. It's a good idea."
+
+"Do you think she'd have me?" he asked, as he shook himself into
+his coat.
+
+"Heaven knows and Heaven only! Where Louise is concerned, nothing's
+impossible--I've always maintained it."
+
+"Well, ta-ta!--You shall have early news, I promise you."
+
+Madeleine heard him go down the stair, whistling the ROSE OF SHARON. But
+he could not have been half-way to the bottom, when he turned and came
+back. Holding her door ajar, he stuck a laughing face into the room.
+
+"Upon my word, Mada, I congratulate you! It's a colossal idea."
+
+But Madeleine had had enough of him. "I'm glad it pleases you. Now go, go!
+You've played the fool here long enough."
+
+When he emerged from the house, Krafft had stopped whistling. He walked
+with his hands in his pockets, his felt hat pulled down over his eyes. At
+the corner, he was so lost in thought as to be unable to guide his feet:
+he stood and gazed at the pavement. Still on the same spot, he pushed his
+hat to the back of his head, and burst into such an eerie peal of laughter
+that some ladies, who were coming towards him, started back, and, picking
+up their skirts, went off the pavernent, in order to avoid passing him too
+nearly.
+
+The following afternoon, at an hour when Maurice was safely out of the
+way, Krafft climbed the stair to the house in the BRUDERSTRASSE.
+
+The landlady did not know him. Yes, Fraulein was at home, she said; but--
+Krafft promptly entered, and himself closed the door.
+
+Outside Louise's room, he listened, with bent head. Having satisfied
+himself, he turned the handle of the door and went in.
+
+Louise stood at the window, watching the snow fall. It had snowed
+uninterruptedly since early morning; out of the leaden sky, flake after
+flake fluttered down, whirled, spun, and became part of the fallen mass.
+At the opening of the door, she did not stir; for it would only be Maurice
+coming back to ask forgiveness; and she was too unspeakably tired to begin
+all over again.
+
+Krafft stood and eyed her, from the crown of her rough head, to the
+bedraggled tail of the dressing-gown.
+
+"GRUSS' GOTT, LULU!"
+
+At the sound of his voice, she jumped round with a scream.
+
+"You, Heinz! YOU!"
+
+The blood suffused her face a purplish red; her voice was shrill
+with dismay; her eyes hung on the young man as though he were a returning
+spirit.
+
+With an effort, she got the better of her first fright, and took a step
+towards him. "How DARE you come into this room!"
+
+Krafft hung his wet coat over the back of a chair, and wiped his face dry
+of the melted snow.
+
+"No heroics, Lulu!"
+
+But she could not contain herself. "Oh, how dare you, It's a mean,
+dishonourable trick--only you would do it!"
+
+"Sit down and listen to what I have to say. It won't take long. And it's
+to your own advantage, I think, not to make a noise.--May I smoke?"
+
+She obeyed, taking the nearest chair; for she had begun to tremble; her
+legs shook under her. But when he held out the case of cigarettes to her,
+she struck it, and the contents were spilled on the floor.
+
+"Look here, Lulu," he said, and crossing his legs, put one hand in his
+pocket, while with the other he made gestures suitable to his words. "I've
+not come here to-day to rake up old sores. Time has gone over them and
+healed them, and it's only your--NEBENBEI GESAGT, extremely bad-conscience
+that makes you afraid of me. I'm not here for myself, but--"
+
+"Heinz!" The cry escaped her against her will. "For him? You've come from
+him!"
+
+He removed his cigarette and smiled. "Him? Which? Which of them do you
+mean?"
+
+"Which?" It was another uncontrollable exclamation. Then the expression of
+almost savage joy that had lighted up her face, died out. "Oh, I know you!
+. . . know you and hate you, Heinz! I've never hated anyone as much as
+you."
+
+"And a woman of your temperament hates uncommonly well.--No, all jokes
+aside,"--the word cut her; he saw this, and repeated it. "Joking apart,
+I've come to you to-day, merely to ask if you don't think your present
+little affair has gone far enough?"
+
+She was as composed as he was. "What business is it of yours?"
+
+"Oh, none. Except that the poor fool was once my friend."
+
+She gave a daring laugh, full of suggestion.
+
+But Krafft was not put out by it. "Don't do that again," he said. "It
+sounds ugly; and you have nothing to do with ugliness, you know. No, I
+repeat once more: this is not a personal matter."
+
+"And you expect me to believe that?"
+
+He shrugged his shoulders.
+
+It was now she who smiled derisively. "Have you forgotten a certain
+evening in this room, three years ago?"
+
+But he did not flinch. "Upon my word, if you are bold enough to recall
+that!--However, the reminder was unnecessary. Tell me now: aren't you
+about done with Guest?"
+
+For still a moment, she fought to keep up her show of dignity. Then she
+broke down. "Heinz!--oh, I don't know! Oh, yes, yes, yes--a thousand
+times, yes! Oh, I'm so tired--I can't tell you how tired I am--of the very
+sight of him! I never wanted him, believe me, I didn't! He thrust himself
+on me. It was not my doing."
+
+"Oh, come now! Tell that to some one else."
+
+"Yes, I know: you only think the worst of me. But though I was weak, and
+yielded, anyone would have done the same. He gave me no peace.--But I've
+been punished out of all proportion to the little bit of happiness it
+brought me. There's no more miserable creature alive than I am."
+
+"What interests me," continued Krafft, in a matter-of-fact tone, "is, how
+you came to choose so far afield from your particular type. It's well
+enough represented here."
+
+She saw the folly of wasting herself upon him, and gave a deep sigh. Then,
+however, the same wild change as before came over her face. Stooping, she
+took his hand and fondled it.
+
+"Heinz! Now that you're here, do one thing--only one--for me! Have pity on
+me! I've gone through so much--been so unhappy. Tell me--there's only one
+thing I want to know. Where is he? Will he NEVER come back? For you know.
+You must know. You have seen him."
+
+She had sunk to her knees; her head was bent over his hand; she laid her
+cheek against it. Krafft considered her thoughtfully; his eye dwelt with
+approval on the broad, slender shoulders, the lithe neck--all the sure
+grace of the crouching body.
+
+"Will you do something for me, Lulu?"
+
+"Anything!"
+
+"Then let your hair down."
+
+He himself drew out the pins and combs that held it, and the black mass
+fell, and lay in wide, generous waves round face and neck.
+
+"That's the idea! Now go on."
+
+Louise kissed his hand. "Tell me; you must know."
+
+"But is it possible that still interests you?"
+
+"Oh, no! My life depends on it, that's all. You are cruel and bad;
+but still I can speak to you--for months now, I haven't had a soul to
+speak to. Be kind to me this once, Heinz. I CAN'T go on living without
+him. I haven't lived since he left me--not an hour!--Oh, you're my last
+hope!"
+
+"You'll have plenty of hopes in your life yet."
+
+"In those old days, you hated me, too. But don't bear malice now. There's
+nothing I won't do for you, if you tell me. I'll never speak to--never
+even think of you again."
+
+"I'm not so long-suffering."
+
+"Then you won't tell me?"
+
+"I didn't say that."
+
+She crushed his hand between hers. "Here's the chance you asked for--to
+save your friend! Oh, won't you understand?"
+
+An inward satisfaction, of which only he himself knew the cause, warmed
+Krafft through at seeing her prostrate before him. But as he continued to
+look at her, a thought crossed his mind, and quickly resolved, he laid his
+cigarette on the table, and put his hands, first on her head, amid the
+tempting confusion of her hair, which met them like a thick stuff pleasant
+to the touch, and from there to her shoulders, inclining her towards him.
+She looked up, and though her eyes were full of tears, her white face was
+alight in an instant with hope again, as he said: "Would you do something
+else for me if I told you?"
+
+She strained back, so that she might see his face. "Heinz!--what is it?"
+And then, with a sudden gasp of comprehension:
+
+"Oh, if that's all!--I will never see Maurice Guest again."
+
+"That's not it."
+
+"What is it then?"
+
+"Will you listen quietly?"
+
+"Yes, yes." She ceased to draw back, let herself be held. But he felt her
+trembling.
+
+He whispered a few words in her ear. Almost simultaneously she jerked her
+head away, and, turning a dark red, stared incredulously at him. Then she
+sprang to her feet.
+
+"Oh, what a fool I am! To believe, for one instant, there was a human spot
+in you I could get at!--Take your hands away--take them off me! Because
+I've had no one to speak to for so long: because I know YOU could
+understand if you would--Oh, when a woman is down, anyone may hit her."
+
+"Gently, gently!--You're too good for such phrases."
+
+"I'm no different from other women. It's only you--with your
+horrible thoughts of me. YOU! Why, you're no more to me than the floor I
+stand on."
+
+"And matters are simplified by that very fact.--I can give you his
+address, Lulu."
+
+"Go away! I may hurt you. I could kill you.--Go away!"
+
+"And this," said Krafft, as he put on his coat again, "is how a woman
+listens quietly. Well, Lulu, think it over. A word at any time will bring
+me, if you change your mind."
+
+One evening, about a week later, Maurice entered Seyffert's Cafe. The
+heavy snowfall had been succeeded by a period of thaw--of slush and gloom;
+and, on this particular night, a keen wind had risen, making the streets
+seem doubly cheerless. It was close on nine o'clock, and Seyffert's was
+crowded with its usual guests--young people, who had escaped from more or
+less dingy rooms to the warmth and light of the cafe, where the yellow
+blinds were drawn against the inclement night. The billiard table in the
+centre was never free; those players whose turn had not yet come, or was
+over, stood round it, cigarette or large black cigar in hand, and watched
+the game.
+
+Maurice had difficulty in finding a seat. When he did, it was at a table
+for two, in a corner. A youth who had already eaten his supper, sat alone
+there, picking his teeth. Maurice took the opposite chair, and made his
+evening meal with a languid appetite. At the other side of the room was a
+large and boisterous party, whose leader was Krafft--Krafit in his most
+outrageous mood. Every other minute, his sallies evoked roars of laughter.
+Maurice refrained from glancing in that direction. When, however, his
+VIS-A-VIS got up and went away, he was startled from his conning of the
+afternoon paper by seeing Krafft before him. The latter, who carried his
+beer-mug in his hand, took the vacated scat, nodded and smiled.
+
+Maurice was on his guard at once; for it seemed to him that they were
+being watched by the party Krafft had left. Putting down the newspaper, he
+wished his friend good-evening.
+
+"I've something to say to you," said Krafft without responding, and,
+having drained his glass, he clapped the lid to attract the waiter's
+attention.
+
+With the over-anxious readiness to oblige, which was becoming one of his
+most marked traits, and, in reality, cloaked a deathly indifference,
+Maurice hung up his paper, and sat forward to listen. Crossing his arms on
+the table, Krafft began to speak, meanwhile fixing his companion with his
+eye. Maurice was at first too bewildered by what he heard to know
+to whom the words referred. Then, the colour mounted to his face; the
+nerves in his temples began to throb; and his hand moved along the edge of
+the table, in search of something to which it could hold fast.--It was the
+first time the name of Louise had been mentioned between them--and in what
+a tone!
+
+"Heinz!" he said at last; his voice seemed not to be his own. "How dare
+you speak of Miss Dufrayer like that!"
+
+"PARDON!" said Krafft; his flushed, transparent cheeks were aglow, his
+limpid eyes shone like stars. "Do you mean Lulu?"
+
+Maurice grew pale. "Mind what you're saying!"
+
+Krafft took a gulp of beer. "Are you afraid of the truth?--But just one
+word, and I'm done. You no doubt knew, as every one else did, that Lulu
+was Schilsky's mistress. What you didn't know, was this;" and now, without
+the least attempt at palliation, without a single extenuating word, there
+fell from his lips the quick and witty narration of an episode in which
+Louise and he had played the chief parts. It was the keynote of their
+relations to each other: the story, grossly told, of a woman's unsatisfied
+fancy.
+
+Before the pitiless details, not one of which was spared him, were checked
+off, Maurice understood; half rising from his chair, he struck Krafft a
+resounding blow in the face. He had intended to hit the mouth, but, his
+hand remaining fully open, caught on the cheek, and with such force that
+the delicate skin instantly bore a white imprint of all five fingers.
+
+Only the people in their immediate neighbourhood saw what had happened;
+but these sprang up; a girl gave a nervous cry; and in a minute, the
+further occupants of the room had gathered round them, the
+billiard-players with their cues in their hands. Two waiters, napkin on
+arm, hastened up, and the proprietor came out from an inner room, and
+rubbed his hands.
+
+"MEINE HERREN! MEINE HERREN!"
+
+Krafft had jumped to his feet; he was also unable to refrain from putting
+his hand to his tingling face. Maurice, who was very pale, stood staring,
+like a person in a trance, at the mark, now deep red, which his hand had
+left on his friend's cheek. There was a solemn pause; all eyes were fixed
+on Krafft; and the stillness was only broken by the proprietor's
+persuasive: "MEINE HERREN! MEINE HERREN!"
+
+In half a minute Krafft had collected himself. Turning, he jauntily waved
+his hand to those pressing up behind; though one side of his face still
+blazed and burned.
+
+"Don't allow yourselves to be disturbed, gentlemen. The incident
+is closed--for the present, at least. My friend here was carried away by a
+momentary excitement. Kindly resume your seats, and act as if nothing had
+happened. I shall call him to account at my own convenience.--But just one
+moment, please!"
+
+The last words were addressed to Maurice. Opening a notebook, Krafft tore
+out one of the little pages, and, with his customary indolence of
+movement, wrote something on it. Then he folded it through the middle, and
+across again, and gave it to Maurice.
+
+Maurice took it, because there seemed nothing else for him to do; he also,
+for the same reason, took his coat and hat, which some one handed to him.
+He saw nothing of what went on--nothing but the five outspread marks,
+which had run together so slowly. He had, however, enough presence of mind
+to do what was evidently expected of him; and, in the hush that still
+prevailed, he left the cafe.
+
+The wind sent a blast in his face. Round the corners of the streets, which
+it was briskly scavenging, it swept in boisterous gusts, which beat the
+gas-flames flat as soon as they reared themselves, and made them give a
+wavering, uncertain light. Not a soul was visible. But in the moment that
+he stood hesitating outside the brilliancy of the yellow blinds, the
+hubbub of voices burst forth again. He moved hastily away, and began to
+walk, to put distance between himself and the place. He did not shrink
+before the wind-scourged meadows, but fought his way forward, till he
+reached the woods. There he threw himself face downwards on the first
+bench he came to.
+
+A smell of rotting and decay met his nostrils: as if, from the thousands
+of leaves, mouldering under the trees on which they had once hung, some
+invisible hand had set free thousands of odours, there mounted to him, as
+he lay, all that rich and humid earthiness that belongs to sunless places.
+And for a time, he was conscious of little else but this morbid fragrance.
+
+An open brawl! He had struck a man in the face before a crowd of
+onlookers, and had as good as been ejected from their midst. From now on,
+he was an outcast from orderly society, was branded as one who was not
+wholly responsible for his actions--he, Maurice Guest, who had ever been
+so chary of committing himself. What made the matter seem still blacker,
+too, in his own eyes, was the fact of Krafft having once been his
+intimate, personal friend. Now, he could never even think of him again,
+without, at the same time, seeing the mark of his hand on Krafft's cheek.
+If the blow had remained invisible, it might have been more easily
+forgotten; but he had seen it, as it were, taken shape before him.--Or,
+had it only been returned, it would have helped to lessen the weight of
+his present abasement--oh, he would have given all he had to have felt a
+return blow on his own face! Even the smallest loss of selfcontrol on the
+part of Krafft would have been enough. But the latter was too proud to
+give himself away gratuitously: he preferred to take his revenge in the
+more unconventional fashion of leaving his friend to bear the ignominy
+alone.
+
+Maurice lay stabbing himself with these and similar thoughts. Only little
+by little did the tumult that had been roused in him abate. Then, and just
+the more vividly for the break in his memory, the gross words Krafft had
+said, came back to him. Recalling them, he felt an intense bitterness
+against Louise. She was the cause of all his sufferings; were it not for
+her, he might still be leading a quiet, decent life. It was her doing that
+he was compelled to part, bit by bit, with his selfrespect. Not once, in
+all the months they had been together, had the smallest good come to him
+through her. Nothing but misery.
+
+Now, he had no further rest where he was. He must go to her, and tax her
+with it, repeat what Krafft had said, to her very face. She should suffer,
+too--and the foretasted anguish and pleasure of hot recriminations dulled
+all other feelings in him.
+
+He rose, chilled to the bone from his exposure; one hand, which had hung
+down over the bench, was wet and sticky from grasping handfuls of dead
+leaves.
+
+It was past eleven o'clock. Louise wakened with a start, and, at the sight
+of his muddy, dishevelled dress, rose to her elbow.
+
+"What is it? What's the matter? Where have you been?"
+
+He stood at the foot of the bed, and looked at her. The loose masses of
+her hair, which had come unplaited, arrested his attention: he had never
+seemed to know before how brutally black it was. With his eyes fixed on
+it, he repeated what Krafft had told him.
+
+Louise lay with the back of one hand on her forehead, and watched him from
+under it. When he had finished, she said: "So Heinz has raked up that old
+story again, has he?"
+
+Maurice had expected--yes, what had he expected?--anger, perhaps, or
+denial, or, it might be, vituperation; only not the almost impartial
+composure with which she listened to him. For he had not spared her a
+word.
+
+"Is that all you've got to say?" he cried, suffocated with doubt. "Then
+you . . . you admit it?"
+
+"Admit it! Maurice! Are you crazy?--to wake me up for this! It happened
+YEARS ago!"
+
+His recoil of disgust was too marked to be ignored. Louise half sat up in
+bed again, supporting herself on one hand. Her nightgown was not buttoned;
+he saw to the waist a strip of the white skin beneath, saw, too, how a
+long black strand of her hair fell in and lay on it.
+
+"You won't tell me you didn't know from the first there had been . . .
+something between Heinz and me?" she cried, roused to defend
+herself.--"And look here, Maurice, as he told you that, it's my turn now.
+I'll tell you why! "And sitting still more upright, she gave a reason
+which made him grasp the knob of the bed-post so fiercely that it came
+away in his hand. He threw it into a corner.
+
+"Louise! . . . you! to take such words on your tongue! Is there no shame
+left in you?" His throat was dry and narrow.
+
+"Shame! You only mean the need for concealment. Before you had got me,
+there was no talk of shame."
+
+"Do you know what you're saying?"
+
+"Oh, that's your eternal cry!" and, suddenly spurred to anger, she rose
+again. "I know--yes, I know! Do you think I'm a fool? Why must you alone
+be so innocent! Why should you alone not know that I was only jealous of a
+single person, and that was Krafft?"
+
+Maurice turned away. In the comparative darkness behind the screen, he sat
+down on the sofa, put his arms on the table, and his head on his arms. He
+was exhausted, and found he must have slept as he sat; for when he lifted
+his head again, the hands of the clock had moved forward by several hours.
+
+
+
+
+X.
+
+
+
+One morning towards the end of January, Krafft disappeared from Leipzig,
+and some days later, the body of Avery Hill was found in a secluded reach
+of the Pleisse, just below Connewitz. Some workmen, tramping townwards
+soon after dawn, noticed a strip of light stuff twisted round a snag,
+which projected slightly above the surface of the water. It proved to be
+the skirt of her dress, which had been caught and held fast. Ambulance and
+police were summoned, and the body was recovered and taken to the
+police-station.
+
+The last of his friends to see Krafft was Madeleine, and the number of
+those interested in his departure, and in Avery's quick suicide, was so
+large that she several times had to repeat her lively account of the last
+visit he paid her. He had come in, one afternoon, and settling himself on
+the sofa, refused to be dislodged. As he was in one of his most ambiguous
+moods, she left him to himself, and went on with her work.
+
+On rising to go, he had stood for a moment with his hands on her
+shoulders.
+
+"Well, Mada, whatever happens, remember I was sorry you wouldn't have me."
+
+"Oh, come now, Heinz, you never really asked me!"
+
+It was snowing hard that night, a moist, soft snow that melted as it
+touched the ground, and Krafft borrowed her umbrella. As usual, however,
+he returned before he could have got half-way down the stairs, to say that
+he had changed his mind and would not take it.
+
+"But you'll get wet through."
+
+"I don't want your umbrella, I tell you.--Or have you two?"
+
+"No; but I'm not going out.--Oh, well, leave it then. And may you reap a
+frightful rheumatism!"
+
+As he went down, for the second time, he whistled the ROSE OF SHARON: she
+listened to it grow fainter in the distance: and that was the last she or
+anyone had heard of Krafft. The following morning, his landlady found a
+note on her kitchen-table, instructing her to keep his belongings for four
+weeks. If, by that time, they had not been claimed, she might sell
+them, and take the money obtained for herself. Only a few personal
+articles were missing, such as would be necessary for a hurried
+journey.--Of course, so Madeleine wound up the story, she had never
+expected Heinz to behave like a normal mortal, and to take leave of his
+friends in the ordinary way, and she was also grateful to him for not
+pilfering her umbrella, which was silvertopped. All the same, there was
+something indecent about his behaviour. It showed how little he had, at
+heart, cared for any of them. Only a person who thoroughly despised
+others, would treat them in this way, playing with them up to the last
+minute, as one plays with dolls or fools.
+
+Avery Hill was laid out in a small room adjoining the policestation. It
+was evening before the business of identification was over. Various
+members of the American colony had to give evidence, and the services of
+the consul were called into play, for there were countless difficulties,
+formalities and ceremonies attached to this death by one's own hand in a
+foreign country. Before all the technical details were concluded, there
+were those who thought--and openly said so--that an intending suicide
+might cast a merciful thought on the survivors. Only Dove made no
+complaint. He had been one of the first to learn what had happened, and,
+in the days that followed, he ran to and fro, from one BUREAU to another,
+receiving signatures, and witnessing them, bearing the whole brunt of
+surly Saxon officialdom on his own shoulders.
+
+Twenty-four hours later, it had been arranged that the body should be
+buried on the JOHANNISFRIEDHOF, and the consul was advised by cablegram to
+lay out the money for the funeral. Under the eyes of a police-officer and
+a young clerk from the consul's office, Madeleine, assisted by Miss
+Jensen, went through the dead girl's belongings, and packed them together.
+
+Miss Jensen kept up, in a low voice, a running commentary on the falsity
+of men and the foolishness of women. But, at times, her natural kindness
+of heart asserted itself, to the confusion of her theories.
+
+"Poor thing, poor young thing!" she murmured, gazing at a pair of
+well-patched boots which she held in her hand. "If only she had come to
+us!--and let us help her!"
+
+"Help her?" echoed Madeleine in a testy way; she was one of those who
+thought that the dead girl might have shown more consideration for her
+friends, standing, as they did, immediately before their PRUFUNGEN. "Could
+one help her ever having set eyes on that attractive
+scoundrel?--And besides, it's easy enough thinking afterwards, one might
+have been able to help, to do this and that. It's a mistake. People don't
+want help; and they don't give you a thank-you for offering it. All they
+ask is to be let alone, to muddle and bungle their lives as they like."
+
+As they walked home together, Miss Jensen returned once more to the
+subject of Krafft's failings.
+
+"I've known many men," she said, "one more credulously vain and stupid
+than another; for unless a man is engaged in satisfying his brute
+instincts, he can be twisted round the finger of ANY woman. But Mr. Krafft
+was the only one I've met, who didn't appear to me to have a single good
+impulse."
+
+The big woman's high-pitched voice grated on Madeleine.
+
+"You're quite wrong there," she said more snappily than before. "Heinz had
+as many good impulses as anyone else. But he had reduced the concealing of
+them to a fine art. He was never happier than when he had succeeded in
+giving a totally false impression of himself. Take me for this, for that!
+--just what I choose. Often it was as if he flung a bone to a dog: there!
+that's good enough for you. No one knew Heinz: each of us knew a little
+bit of him, and thought it was all there was to know.--He never showed a
+good impulse: that is as much as saying that he swarmed with them. And no
+doubt he would have considered that, with regard to you, he had been
+entirely successful. You have the idea of him he meant you to have."
+
+"He was never her lover," said Louise with a studied carelessness.
+
+Maurice, to whom nothing was more offensive than the tone of bravado in
+which she flaunted subjects of this nature, was stung to retaliation.
+
+"How do YOU know?"
+
+"Well, if you wish to hear--from his own lips."
+
+"Do you mean to say you've spoken to Heinz about things of that
+kind?--discussed his relations with other women?"
+
+"Do you need reminding that I knew Heinz before I had ever heard of you?"
+
+He turned away, too dispirited to cross words with her. The events of the
+past week had closed over his head as two waves Close over a swimmer,
+cutting off light and air. Since the night on which he had left his whilom
+friend the mark of his spread fingers as a parting gift, he had
+ceased to care greatly about anything.
+
+Compared with his pessimistic absorption in himself, Avery's suicide and
+Krafft's departure touched him lightly. For the girl, he had never cared.
+As soon, though, as he heard that Krafft had disappeared, he turned out
+his pockets for the scrap of paper Heinz had given him that evening in the
+cafe. But it threw no light on what had happened. It was merely an
+address, and, twist it as he would, Maurice could make no more of it than
+the words: KLOSTERGASSE 12. He resolved to go through the street of that
+name in the afternoon; but, when the time came, he forgot about it, and it
+was not till next morning that he carried out his intention. There was,
+however, nothing to be learned; number twelve was a gunsmith's shop, and
+at his hesitating inquiry, if anything were known there of a music-student
+called Krafft, the owner of the shop looked at him as if he were a
+lunatic, and answered rudely: was the Herr under the impression that the
+shop was an information BUREAU?
+
+Louise was dressed to go out. Pressed as to her destination, she said that
+she was going to see the body. Maurice sought in vain to dissuade her.
+
+"It's a perverse thing to do," he cried. "You didn't care a fig for the
+girl when she was alive. But now she can't forbid it, you go and stare at
+her, out of nothing but curiosity."
+
+"How do you know whether I cared for her or not?" Louise threw at him: she
+was tying on her' veil before the glass. "Do you think I tell you
+everything?--And as for your 'perverse,' it's the same with all I ever do.
+You have made it your business always to find my wishes absurd." She took
+up her gloves and, holding them together, hit her muff with them. "In this
+case, it doesn't concern you in the least. I don't ask you to come. I want
+to go alone."
+
+The more shattered and unsure he grew, the more self-assertive was she.
+There was an air of bravado in all she did, at this time--as in the matter
+of her determination to go to the dead-house--and she hurt him, with
+reckless cruelty, whenever a chance offered. Her pale mouth seemed only to
+open to say unkind things, and her eyes weighed him with an ironic
+contempt. To his jarred ears, her very laugh sounded less fine. At
+moments, she began almost to look ugly to him; but it was a dangerous
+ugliness, more seductive than her beauty had ever been. Then, he knew that
+she was not too good for him, nor he for her, nor either of them for the
+world they lived in.
+
+They walked side by side to the mortuary. It was a very cold day,
+and Louise wore heavy furs, from which her face rose enticingly. The
+attention she attracted was to Maurice like gall to a wound.
+
+There was not much difficulty in gaining admittance to the dead. A small
+coin changed hands, and a man in uniform opened the door.
+
+The post-mortem examination had been held that day, and the body was
+swathed from head to foot in a white sheet. It lay on a long, projecting
+shelf, and a ticket was pinned on the wall at its head. On the opposite
+side of the room, on a similar shelf, was another shrouded figure--the
+body of a workingman, found that morning on the outskirts of the town,
+with an empty bottle which had contained carbolic acid by its side. The
+LEICHENFRAU, the public layer--out of the dead, told them this; it was
+she, too, who drew back the sheet from Avery's face in order that they
+might see it. She was a rosy, apple-cheeked woman, and her vivid colouring
+was thrown into relief by the long black cloak and the close-fitting,
+black poke-bonnet that she wore. Maurice, for whom the dead as such had no
+attraction, turned from his contemplation of the stark-stretched figure on
+the shelf, to watch the living woman. The exuberance of her vitality had
+something almost insultant in the presence of these two rigid forms, from
+whose faces the colour had fled for ever. Her eyes were alert like those
+of a bird; her voice and movements were loud and bustling. In thought he
+compared her to a carrion-crow. It was this woman's calling to live on the
+dead; she hastened from house to house to cleanse poor, inanimate bodies,
+whose dignity had departed from them. He wondered idly whether she gloated
+over the announcements of fresh deaths, and mentally sped the dying. Did
+she talk of good seasons and of slack seasons, and look forward to the
+spread of contagious disease?--Well, at least, she throve on her trade, as
+a butcher thrives by continually handling meat.
+
+Louise had eyes only for the face of the dead girl. She stood gazing at
+it, with a curious absorption, but without a spark of feeling. The
+LEICHENFRAU, having finished tying up a basket, crossed the room and
+joined her.
+
+"EINE SCHONE LEICHE!" she said, and nodded, appreciating the fact that a
+stranger should admire what was partly her own handiwork.
+
+It was true; Avery's face looked as though it were modelled in wax. She
+had not been in the water for more than half an hour, had said the
+doctor, not long enough to be disfigured in any way. Only her hair
+remained dank and matted, and, although it was laid straight out over the
+bolster, it would probably never be quite dry again. No matter, continued
+the woman; on. the morrow would come the barber, a good friend of hers, to
+dress it for the tomb; he would bring tongs and irons, and other
+heating-apparatus with him, and, for certain, would make a good job of it,
+so skilled was he: he had all the latest fashions in hair-dressing at his
+finger-ends. The face itself was as placid as it had been in life; the
+lids were firmly closed--no peeping or squinting here--and the lips met
+and rested on each other round and full. Seen like this, it now became
+evident that his face was one of those which are, all along, intended for
+death--intended, that is, to lie waxen and immobile, to show to best
+advantage. In life, there had been too marked a discrepancy between the
+extreme warmth of the girl's colouring and the extreme immobility of her
+expression. Now that the blood had, as it were, been drained away to the
+last drop, now that temples and nostrils had attained transparency, the
+fine texture of the skin and the beauty of the curves of lips and chin
+were visible to every eye. Only one hand, so the LEICHENFRAU babbled on,
+was convulsively closed, and could not be undone; and, as she spoke, she
+drew the sheet further down, and displayed the naked arm and hand: the
+long, fine fingers were clenched, the thumb inside the rest. Otherwise,
+Avery appeared to sleep, to sleep profoundly, with an intensity such as
+living sleep never attains to--the very epitome of repose. It seemed as if
+her eyelids were pressed down by some unseen force; and, in her presence,
+the feeling gained ground in one, that it was worth enduring much, to
+arrive at a rest of this kind at last.
+
+"JA, JA," said the woman, and rearranged the covering. "It's a pleasure to
+handle such a pretty corpse. That one there, now,"--with her chin she
+pointed to the other figure, and made a face of disgust. "EIN EKLIGER
+KERL! There was nothing to be done with him."
+
+"Let me see what he's like," begged Louise.
+
+"It's an ugly sight," said the woman. However, she pulled the sheet down,
+and so far that not only the face, but also a part of the hairy black
+breast was visible.
+
+Louise shuddered, yet the very horror of the thing fascinated her, and she
+plied the woman with questions about the workings of the agonising poison
+that had been swallowed. After one hasty glance, Maurice had
+turned away, and now stood staring out of the high, barred window into a
+gloomy little courtyard, For him, the air of the room was hard to breathe,
+owing to the faint, yet unmistakable odour, which even the waxen figure of
+the girl had begun to exhale; and he marvelled how Louise, who was so
+sensitive, could endure it.
+
+Outside, both drew long breaths of the cold, evening air, and Louise
+bought a bunch of violets, which she pressed to nose and mouth.
+
+"Horrible, horrible!" she said, at the same time raising her shoulders in
+their heavy cape. "Oh, that man!--I shall never forget his face."
+
+"What do you go to such places for? You have only yourself to thank for
+it." He, too, was aware that a needless and repellent memory had been
+added to their lives.
+
+"Oh, everything's my own fault--I know that. You are never to blame for
+anything!"
+
+"Did I ask you to go there ?--did I?"
+
+But she only laughed in reply, through and through hostile to him; and
+they walked for some distance in silence.
+
+"Why are you going this way?" he asked suspiciously, when she turned into
+a street that led in the opposite direction to that which they should have
+taken.
+
+"I'm not going home. I couldn't sit alone in the dark with that . . that
+thing before my eyes."
+
+"Who asked you to sit alone?--Where are you going?"
+
+"I don't know . . . where I like."
+
+"That's no answer."
+
+"And if I don't choose to answer?--I don't want you. I want to be alone.
+I'm sick of your perpetual bad-temper, and your eternal
+slf-righteousness."
+
+He laughed, just as she had done. The sound enraged her.
+
+"Oh, the dead at least are at peace!" she cried.
+
+"Yes! . . . why don't you say it? You wish you were lying there--at peace
+from me!"
+
+"Why should I say what you know so well?"
+
+"Go and do it then!--who's hindering you?"
+
+"For you?--kill myself for you?"
+
+One word gave another; they pressed forward, in the falling dusk, like two
+distraught creatures, heedless of the notice they attracted, or of who
+should hear their bitter words. And because their gestures were, to some
+extent, regulated by the conventions of the street, because they could not
+face each other with flaming eyes, and throw out hands and arms to
+emphasise what they said, their words were all the more cruel. Louise made
+straight for home now; she escaped into the house, banging the door.
+Maurice strode down the street, in a tumult of resentment, vowing never to
+return.
+
+Avery Hill was buried the following afternoon. Maurice went to the
+funeral, becaug, since he had seen the dead girl's body at the mortuary,
+he had been invaded by a kind of pity for her, lying alone at the mercy of
+barber and LEICHENFRAU. And so, towards three o'clock, he fought his way
+against a cutting wind to the JOHANNISFRIEDHOF.
+
+A mere handful of people stood round the grave. In addition to the English
+chaplain, and a couple of diggers, there were present Dove, two Americans,
+and a young clerk from the consul's office, who was happy to be
+associated, in any fashion, with the English residents. It was the coldest
+day of that winter. Over the earth swept a harsh, dry wind, which cut like
+the blade of a knife, and forced stinging tears from the eyes. This wind
+had dried the frozen surface of the ground to the impenetrability of iron;
+loose earth crumbled before it like powder. Grass and shrubs had
+shrivelled, blighted by its breath; the bare trees were sooty-black
+against the sky. So intense was the prevailing sensation of icy dryness
+that it seemed as if the earth would never again know moisture. People's
+faces grew as wizened as the skins of old apples; throats and lungs were
+choked by the grey dust, which whirled through the streets, and made
+breathing an effort.
+
+In the outlying cemetery it was still bleaker than in the shelter of the
+houses. Over this stretch of ground the wind swept as over the surface of
+a sea. The grave-diggers related the extraordinary difficulty they had had
+in digging the grave; the earth that had been thrown up lay cracked into
+huge, frozen lumps. These two men stood in the background while the
+service was going on, and stamped their feet and beat their hands, encased
+in monstrous woollen gloves, to keep the blood flowing. The English
+chaplain, a tall, cadaverous man, with sunken cheeks and a straw-coloured
+beard, had wound a red and white comforter over his surplice; the five
+young men pulled down the ear-flaps of their caps, and stood, with
+high-drawn shoulders. burrowing their hands in their pockets. The chaplain
+gabbled the few necessary prayers: they were inaudible to his hearers; for
+the rushing wind carried them straight over his shoulder into
+space. He was not more than a bare ten minutes over the service. Then the
+diggers came forward to lower the coffin. Owing to the stiffness of their
+hands, the ropes slid from their grasp, and the coffin fell forward into
+the hard yellow grave with a bump. The young men took the obligatory
+handfuls of earth, and struck the side of the coffin with them as gently
+as possible. With the last word still on his lips, the chaplain shut his
+book and fled; and the rest hastily dispersed. Maurice shook off the young
+clerk, who was murmuring unintelligible words of sympathy, and left the
+cemetery in the wake of the two Americans, for whom a droschke was in
+waiting to take them back to the town.
+
+"Waal, I'm sort o' relieved that wasn't MY funeral," he heard one of them
+say.
+
+He walked at full speed to restore his famished circulation. When he was
+in the heart of the town again, he entered a cafe; and there he remained,
+with his elbows on the little marble table, letting the scene he had just
+come through pass once more before his mind. There had been something
+grotesquely indecent about the haste of every one concerned: the chaplain,
+gabbling like a parrot, out of regard for the safety of his own lungs; the
+hurry-skurry of the diggers, whose thoughts were no doubt running on the
+size of their gratuities; the openly expressed satisfaction of the few
+mourners, when they were free to hurry off again, as in hurry they had
+arrived. Not one present but had counted the minutes, at the expiry of
+which the dead girl would be consigned to her appointed hole. What an
+ending! All the talent, the incipient genius, that had been in her, thrust
+away with the greatest possible despatch, buried out of sight in the
+hideously hard, cold earth. Snuffed out like a candle, and with as little
+ceremony, was all the warm, complex life that had made up this one,
+throbbing bit of humanity: for what it had been, not a soul alive now
+cared. And what a night, too, for one's first night underground! Brr!--At
+the thought of it, he drank another cup of coffee, and a fiery, stirring
+liqueur. But the sense of depression clung to him, and, as he walked home,
+he regretted the impulse that had led him to attend the funeral. For all
+the melancholy of valediction was his. The dead girl was free--and he had
+a sudden vision of her, as she had lain in the mortuary, with the look of
+superhuman peace on her face. Over the head of this, he was sarcastic at
+his own expense. For though she WERE being treated like a piece of lumber,
+what did it matter to her? Beneath the screening lid, she
+continued to sleep, tranquil, undisturbed. On the other hand, how absurd
+it was that he, who had cared little for her in life, should in this wise
+constitute himself her only mourner! And, mentally and physically, he now
+jerked himself to rights, and even began to whistle, as he went, in an
+attempt to seem at harmony with himself. But the tune that rose to his
+lips was Krafft's song, THE ROSE OF SHARON, and he straightway broke off,
+in disgust and confusion.
+
+In his room, as soon as he had struck a match to light the lamp, he saw
+that a letter was lying on the table. By the gradual spread of the light,
+he made out that it bore an Austrian stamp, and directly he took it in his
+hand, he recognised the writing. Heinz!--it was from Heinz! He tore open
+the envelope with unsteady fingers; what could Heinz have to write to him
+about? Instinctively, he connected it in some way with the events of the
+afternoon. But it was a very brief note, covering hardly a page of the
+paper. Standing beside the lamp, Maurice held the sheet in the circle of
+light, and ran his eye over the few lines. He took them in, in a flash,
+that is to say, he read them automatically; but their sense did not
+penetrate his brain. He tried again, and still he could not grasp what
+they meant; still again, and slowly, word by word, till he could have
+repeated them by heart; but always without getting at their inner meaning.
+Then, however, and all of a sudden, as if some inner consciousness had
+understood them, and now gave bodily warning of it; suddenly, his knees
+began to shake, and he was forced to sit down. Sitting, he continued to
+stare at the page of writing before him, with contracted pupils. He
+commenced to read again, and even said the first line or two of the letter
+aloud, as if that might aid him. But the paper fell from his hand, and he
+gazed, instead, into the flame of the lamp, right into the inmost flame,
+till he was blind with it. His head fell forward, and lay on his hands,
+and on the rustling sheet of paper.
+
+"God in Heaven!"
+
+He heard himself say it, and was even conscious of the fact that, like
+every mortal in the throes of a strong emotion, he, too, called on God.
+
+A long and profound silence ensued. It went on and on, persisted, was
+about to become eternal, when it was rudely broken by the sound of a
+child's cry. He raised his head. The walls swam round him: in spite of the
+coldness of the night and the fact that the room was unheated, he was
+clammy with perspiration. The skin of his face, too, had a
+peculiar, drawn feeling, as if it were a mask that was too tight for it.
+He shivered. Then his eye fell on the letter lying open on the table.
+Without a moment's hesitation, without waiting even to put the lamp out,
+he seized it, and went headlong from the house.
+
+But he was strangely unequal to exertion. He felt a craving for stimulant,
+and entering a wine-shop, drank a couple of cognacs. His strength came
+back to him; people moved out of his way; he had energy enough to climb
+the stair, and to go through the business of unlocking the door.
+
+At his abrupt entrance, Louise concealed something in a drawer, and turned
+the key on it. But Maurice was too self-absorbed to heed her action, or
+consciously to hear her exclamation at his haggard appearance. He shut the
+door, crossed to where she was standing, and, without speaking, pulled her
+nearer to the lamp. By its light, he scanned her face with a desperate
+eagerness.
+
+"What is it? What's the matter?"
+
+At the sound of her voice, the tension of the past hour relaxed. He let
+his head fall on her shoulder, and shut his eyes, swaying as she swayed
+beneath his weight.
+
+"Forgive me! . . . forgive me!"
+
+"You've been drinking, I think." But she held still under his grasp.
+
+"Yes, I have. Louise! . . . tell me it's a horrible mistake. Help me, you
+MUST help me!"
+
+"How can I help you, if you won't tell me what the matter is?" She
+believed him to be half drunk, and spoke as to a drunken person, without
+meaning much.
+
+"Yes, yes . . . I will. Only give me time."
+
+But he postponed beginning. Leaning more heavily on her, he pressed his
+lips to the stuff of her dress. He would have liked to sleep, just where
+he was; indeed, he was invaded by the desire to sleep, never again to
+unclose his eyes. But she grew restless, and tried to draw her shoulder
+away. Then he looked at her, and a feverish stream of words, half
+self-recriminative, half in self-defence, burst from his lips. But they
+had little to do with the matter in hand, and were incomprehensible to
+her. "It has been a terrible nightmare. And only you can drive it away."
+As he spoke, he looked, with a sudden suspicion, right into her eyes. But
+they neither faltered nor grew uneasy.
+
+"It will turn out to be nothing, I know," she said coldly. "You're
+always devising some new way of tormenting me."
+
+Her words roused him. Fumbling in his pocket, he drew from it Krafft's
+letter. "Is that nothing? Read it and tell me. I found it at home on my
+table."
+
+Louise took it with unmoved indifference. But directly she saw whose
+handwriting it was, her face grew grave and attentive. She looked back
+from the envelope to him, to see what he was thinking, to learn how much
+he knew. In spite of his roughness there was a hungry, imploring look in
+his eyes, an appeal to her to put him out of misery, and in the way he
+desired. And, as always, before such a look, her own face hardened.
+
+"Read it! What he dares to write to me!"
+
+Slowly, as if it were impossible for her to hurry, she drew the sheet from
+the crumpled envelope and smoothed it out. As she did so, she half turned
+away. But not so far that he could not see the dark, disfiguring blood
+stain her neck and blotch her cheek--even her ear grew crimson. She read
+deliberately, lingering over each word, but the instant she had finished,
+she crushed the paper to a ball, and threw it to the other end of the
+room.
+
+"The scoundrel!" she cried. "Oh, the scoundrel!" Clenching her two hands,
+she pressed them to her face.
+
+Maurice did not say a word; he hardly dared to draw breath, for fear some
+sign of her guilt might escape him. Leaning against the table, he marked
+each tell-tale quiver of lip or eyelid.
+
+"The blackguard!" she cried again, shaken by rage. "If I had him here, I'd
+strangle him with my own hands!"
+
+He gloated over her anger. "Yes," he said in a low voice. "I, too . . .
+could kill him."
+
+There was a pause, in which each followed out a possible means of revenge.
+
+"Now you see," he said. "When I got home--when I found that--I thought I
+should go mad."
+
+Reminded thus, of his share in the matter, Louise turned her head, and
+considered him. Her face was tense.
+
+"Forgive me!" said Maurice, and held out his hands to her.
+
+She gave him another look of the same kind. "I forgive YOU. What for?"
+
+"Because . . . since I got it, I've been thinking vile things."
+
+"Oh, that!" She moved away, and gave a curt laugh, which met him
+like a stab. But she had no consideration for him: she had only room in
+her mind for Krafft's treachery. "I could kill him," she said again.
+"Don't. . . . Leave me alone!"--this to Maurice, who was trying to take
+her hand. "Don't touch me!"
+
+"Not touch you!--why not?" In an instant his softness passed over into
+suspicion: it was like a dry pile that had waited for the match. "I not
+touch you?" he repeated. "Do you want to make me believe that what he says
+there is true?"
+
+"Believe what you like."
+
+"But that's just what I won't do. Turn here! Look me in the face! Now tell
+me it's a lie."
+
+She struggled to free her hands. "You hurt me, Maurice! Let me go!"
+
+"Be careful!--or I shall hurt you more than this. Now answer me!"
+
+"You!--with your ridiculous heroics! Be careful yourself!"
+
+His grip of her grew tighter.
+
+"For your precious peace of mind then--that you may not be kept in
+suspense: what Heinz says there is--true!"
+
+He did not at once grasp what she meant. He stood staring stupidly at her,
+still clutching her hands. With a determined effort, Louise wrenched them
+away.
+
+"Don't you hear what I say? It's true--all true--every word of it!"
+
+At the cruel repetition, he went pale, and after that, seemed to go on
+growing paler, until his face was like a sheet of paper. A horrible
+silence ensued; neither dared to let go of the other's eyes.
+
+"My God!" he said at last. "My God!"
+
+He sat down at the table, and buried his face in his arms. Louise did not
+move; she stood waiting, her hands, which were red and sore, pressed
+against her sides. And as minutes passed, and he did not stir, she began
+in a vacant way to count the ticks of the clock. If he did not speak soon,
+did not go on with what had to come, and get it over, she would be forced
+to scream. A scream was mounting in her throat.
+
+"When was it? . . . How? . . . Why?"
+
+She made no answer.
+
+He straightened himself, holding on to the table. "And if that letter
+hadn't come, you wouldn't have told me?"
+
+Again she did not reply. He sprang to his feet, interpreting her
+inability to bring forth a sound as mere contemptuous defiance.
+
+"WHY did you tell me? Did I need to know?" he cried, loudly, and, in the
+confines of the room, ' his voice had the force of a shout. As she still
+remained dumb, he leaned across the table and actually shouted at her.
+"Any more?--are there any more? He won't have been the only one. Tell me,
+I say! Good God! Don't you hear me?" The arteries in his temples were
+beating like two separate hearts. As nothing he said would make her open
+her lips, he snatched up her hands again, and dragged her a few steps
+forward--this, to prove to himself that he had at least bodily power over
+her. "How dare you stand there and say it's true! You brazen,
+shameless----!"
+
+She thought he was going to strike her, and moved her head quickly to one
+side. The movement did not escape him; he was amazed at it, and horrified
+by it. "You're afraid of me, are you? You expect to be beaten, when you
+make a confession of that sort?" And as she kept her head bent, in
+suspense, he shouted: "Very well, you shall have something to be afraid of
+. . . you--!" and lifting his hand, he struck her a blow on the shoulder.
+It was given with force, and she sank to the floor, where she lay in a
+heap, screening her face with her arm. The first taste of his greater
+strength was like the flavour of blood to a beast of prey. In her mind,
+she might defy him, physically he was her master; and he struck her, again
+and again. But he did not wring any sound from her. She lay face
+downwards, and let the blows fall.
+
+When his first onslaught of rage had spent itself, a glimmering of reason
+returned to him. He staggered to his feet, and looked down with horror at
+the prostrate figure. "My God, what am I doing?--what have I done?" A
+sudden fear swept through him that he had killed her.
+
+But now, for the first time, she spoke. "It's true!" he heard her say.
+
+At these words, the desire actually to kill her was so overwhelming that
+he rnoved precipitately away, and, in order not to see her, pressed his
+smarting hand to his eyes. But in the greater clearness of thought this
+shutting off of externals brought with it, the ultimate meaning of what
+she had done was revealed to him; he saw red through his closed lids, and,
+going back to her, he struck her anew. The knowledge that, under her
+dressing-gown, she had nothing on but a thin nightgown, gave him
+pleasure; he felt each of the blows fall full and hard on her firm flesh.
+
+From time to time, she turned her face to cry: "It's true . . . it is
+true!" deliberately inciting him to continue.
+
+But the moment came when his arm sank powerless to his side, when, if his
+life had depended on it, he could not have struck another blow. With
+difficulty, he rose to his feet; and such was the apathy that came over
+him, that it was all he could do to drag himself to the sofa. Once there,
+he leaned back and closed his eyes.
+
+For half an hour or more, neither of them stirred. Then, when she
+understood that he had done, that he was not coming back to her, Louise
+pulled herself into a sitting position, and from there to her feet. She
+could hardly stand; her head swam; not an inch of her body but ached and
+stung. Her exaltation had left her now; she began to feel sick, and, going
+over to the bed, she fell heavily upon it.
+
+Maurice heard her movements; but so incapable did he feel of further
+effort that lie remained sitting, with his eyes shut. A new sound roused
+him: she was shivering, and with such violence that the bedstead was
+shaken. After a crucial struggle with himself, he rose, and crossed the
+room. She was lying outside the bedclothes. He pulled off an eider-down
+quilt, and spread it over her. As he did this, his arms were round her,
+all the beloved body was in his grasp. When he had finished, he did not
+remove them, but, kneeling down beside the bed, pressed his face to the
+quilt, and to the warm body below.
+
+And so the night wore away.
+
+
+
+
+XI.
+
+
+
+Throughout February, and the greater part of March, the HAUPTPRUFUNGEN
+were held in the Conservatorium: twice a week, from six to eight o'clock
+in the evening, the concert hall was crammed with an eager crowd. To these
+concerts, the outside public was admitted, the critics were invited, and
+the performances received notices in the newspapers; in short, the
+outgoing student was, for the first time, treated like a real debutant.
+Concerted music was accompanied by the full orchestra; the large gallery
+that ran round the hall was opened up; and the girls, whose eager faces
+hung over its edge, were more brightly decked than usual, in ribbons and
+laces. Some of those who stepped down the platform seemed thoroughly to
+relish their first taste of publicity; others, on the contrary, were
+awkward and abashed, and did not venture to notice the encouragement that
+greeted their entrance. There were players as composed as the most
+hardened virtuosi; others, again, who were overcome by stage-fright to
+such an extent that they barely escaped a total fiasco.
+
+The success of the year was Dove, in his performance of Chopin's Concerto
+in E minor. Dove's unshakable self-possession was here of immense value to
+him. Not a note was missed, not a turn slurred; the runs and brilliant
+passage-work of the concerto left his fingers like showers of pearls; his
+touch had the necessary delicacy, and, in addition to this, his reading
+was quite a revelation to his friends in the matter of TEMPERAMENT. It is
+true that Schwarz prohibited any undignified display of the emotional side
+of Chopin; the interpretation had to be on classical lines; but even the
+most determined opponents of Schwarz's method were forced to acknowledge
+that Dove made no mean show of the poetic contents of the music. The
+master himself, in his imperturbable way--he chose to act as if, all along,
+he had had this surprise for people up his sleeve--the master was in
+transports. His stern face wore an almost genial expression; he smiled,
+and talked loudly, and, when the performance was over, hurried to and fro,
+full of importance, shaking hands and accepting congratulations, with a
+fine shade of reserve. Dove's fellow-pupils were enraptured for Schwarz's
+sake; for, undeniably, the master's numbers this year were poor,
+compared with those of other teachers. It behoved the remainder to make
+the most of this isolated triumph; they did so, and were entertained by
+Schwarz at a special dinner, where many healths were drunk.
+
+Those who had "made their PRUFUNG," as the phrase ran, were, as a rule,
+glad to leave Leipzig when the ordeal was behind them. But Dove, who, on
+the day following his performance, when his name was to be read in the
+newspapers accompanied by various epithets of praise, had proposed and
+been accepted, and was this time returning to England a solemnly engaged
+man--Dove waited a week for his fiancee and her family, who had not been
+prepared for so sudden a move. He was the man of the hour. As a response
+to the flattering notices, he had called on all his critics, and been
+received by several; and he could hardly walk a street-length, without
+running the gauntlet of some belated congratulation. Schwarz had spoken
+seriously to him about prosecuting his studies for a further year, with
+the not impossible prospect of a performance in the Gewandhaus at the end
+of it; but Dove had laid before his master the reasons why this could not
+be: he was no longer a free man; there were now other wishes to be
+consulted in addition to his own. Besides, if the truth must be told, Dove
+had higher aims, and these led him imperatively back to England.
+
+Madeleine was ready to leave a couple of days after her last performance.
+Her plans for the future were fixed and sure. She had long ago given up
+making adventurous schemes for storming America: that had merely been her
+contribution to the romance of the place. Now she was hastening away to
+spend the month of March in Paris; she was not due at the school to which
+she was returning till the end of April; and, in Paris, she intended to
+take a brief course of finishing lessons, to rub off what she
+called "German thoroughness." She, too, had made a highly successful exit,
+though without creating a furore like Dove. Since all she did was well
+done, it was not possible for her to be a surprise to anyone.
+
+And finally, the rush she had lived in for weeks past, was over, the last
+afternoon had come, and, in its course, she went to the railway station to
+make arrangements about her luggage. On her way home, she entered Klemm's
+music-shop, where she stood, for a considerable time, taking leave of one
+and another. When she emerged again, the town had assumed that spectral
+look, which, towards evening, made the quaint old gabled streets so
+attractive.
+
+For the first time, Madeleine felt something akin to regret at
+having to leave. She had enjoyed, and made the most of, her years of
+study; but she was now quite ready to advance, curious to attack the
+future, and to dominate that also. Still, the dusk on the familiar streets
+inclined her to feel sentimental. "This time tomorrow, I'll be hundreds of
+miles away," she said to herself, "and probably shall never see the old
+place again." As she walked, she looked back upon her residence
+there--already somewhat in the light of a remembrance--weighing what it had
+been worth to her. Part of it was intimately associated with Maurice
+Guest, and thus she recalled him, too. Of late he had passed out of her
+life; she had been too busy to think of him. Now, however, that she was at
+the end of this period, the fancy seized her to see him again; and she
+took a resolution which had, perhaps, been dormant in her for some time.
+
+"I don't see why I shouldn't," she reasoned. "No one will know. And even
+if they do, I'm leaving, and it won't matter."
+
+And so she pulled her hat further over her face, and brisked up her steps
+in the direction of the BRAUSTRASSE--a street which she disliked, and never
+entered if she could avoid it. If he had lived in a better neighbourhood,
+things might have gone better with him, she mused; for Madeleine was a
+staunch believer in the influence of surroundings, and could not, for
+instance, understand a person who lived in dirt and disorder having any
+but a dirty or disorderly mind. She went from door to door, scanning the
+numbers, with her head poked a little forward and to one side, like a
+bird's. As she ascended the stair, she raised her skirts, and her nostrils
+twitched displeased.
+
+Frau Krause held the door open by an inch, and looked at Madeleine with
+distrust.
+
+"No, he's not," she replied. "And what's more, I couldn't say, if you were
+to pay me, when he will be."
+
+But Madeleine was not to be daunted by the arrogance of any landlady
+alive. "Why? Is he so irregular?" she asked. She had placed her foot in
+the opening of the door, and now, by a skilful movement, inserted herself
+bodily into the passage.
+
+Frau Krause, baffled, could do no more than mumble a: "Well, if you like
+to wait!" and point out the room. She followed Madeleine over the
+threshold, drying her hands on her apron.
+
+"Are you a friend of his, may I ask?" she inquired.
+
+"Why? What do you want to know for? Do you think I'd be here if I
+weren't?" said Madeleine, looking her up and down.
+
+"Why I want to know?" repeated Frau Krause, and tossed her head. "Why,
+because I think if Herr Guest has any friends left, they ought to know how
+he's going on--that's why, Fraulein!"
+
+"How going on?" queried Madeleine with undisturbed coolness, and looked
+round her for a chair.
+
+Throwing a cautious glance over her shoulder, Frau Krause said behind her
+hand: "It's my opinion there's a woman in the case."
+
+"You don't need to whisper; your opinion is an open secret," answered
+Madeleine drily. "There is a woman, and there she sits, as you no doubt
+very well know." As she spoke, she pointed to a photograph of Louise,
+which stood on the lid of the piano.
+
+"I thought as much," exclaimed the landlady. "I thought as much. And a
+bad, bold face it is, too."
+
+"Now explain, please, what you mean by his goings on. Is he in debt to
+you?" Madeleine continued her interrogatory.
+
+"Well, I can't just say that," replied the woman, with what seemed a spice
+of regret. "He's paid up pretty regular till now--though of course one
+never knows how long he'll keep on doing it. But it goes against my heart
+to see a young man, who might be one's own son, acting as he does. When he
+first came here, there wasn't a decenter young man anywhere than Herr
+Guest--if I had a complaint, it was that he was too much of a steady-goer.
+I used to tell him he ought to take more heed for his health, not to
+mention the ears of the people that had to live with him. He sat at that
+piano there all the blessed day. And now there isn't a lazier, more
+cantankerous fellow in the place. You can't please him anyhow. He never
+gives you a civil word. He doesn't work, he doesn't cat, and he's getting
+so thin that his clothes just hang on him."
+
+"Is he drinking?" interrupted Madeleine in the same matter-of-fact way,
+with her eye on the main points of probable offence.
+
+"Well, I can't just say that," answered Frau Krause. "Not but what it
+mightn't be better if he was. It's the ones as don't drink who are the
+hard ones to get on with, in my experience. Young gentlemen who like their
+liquor, are of the goodnatured, easy-going sort. Now I once had a young
+fellow here----"
+
+"But I don't see in the least what you've got to complain of!" said
+Madeleine. "He pays you for the room, and you no doubt have free use of
+it.--A very good bargain!"
+
+She sat back and stared about her, while Frau Krause, recognising that she
+had met her match in this sharp-tongued young lady, curbed her temper, and
+launched out into the history of a former lodger.
+
+It was. a dingy room, long and narrow, with a single window. Against the
+door that led into an adjoining room, stood a high-backed, uninviting
+sofa, with a table in front of it. Between this and the window was the
+writing-bureau, a flat, man-high piece of furniture, with drawers and
+pigeon-holes, and a broad flap that let down for writing purposes. Against
+the opposite wall stood the neglected piano, and, towards the door, on
+both sides, were huddled bed, washstand, and the iron stove. Everything
+was of an extreme shabbiness: the stuffing was showing through holes in
+the sofa, the strips of carpet were worn threadbare. A couple of
+photographs and a few books were ranged in line on the bureau--that was all
+that had been done towards giving the place a homely air. It was like a
+room that had never properly been lived in.
+
+While Madeleine sat thinking this, the sound of a key was heard in the
+front door, and Frau. Krause, interrupted in her story, had just time to
+tap Madeleine on the arm, exclaim: "Here he is!" and dart out of the room.
+Not so promptly, however, but what Maurice saw where she came from.
+Madeleine heard them bandying words in the passage.
+
+The door of the room was flung open, and Maurice, entering hotly, threw
+his hat on the table. He did not perceive his visitor till it was too
+late.
+
+"Madeleine! You here!" he exclaimed in surprise and embarrassment. "I beg
+your pardon. I didn't see you," and he made haste to recover his hat.
+
+"Yes, don't faint, it's I, Maurice.--But what's the matter? Why are you so
+angry with the person? Does she pry on you?"
+
+"Pry!" he echoed, and his colour deepened. "Pry's not the word for it. She
+ransacks everything I have. I never come home but what I find she has
+overhauled something, though I've forbidden her to enter the room."
+
+"Why don't you--or rather, why didn't you move? It's not much of a place,
+I'm sure."
+
+"Move?" he repeated, in the same tone as before, and, as he spoke,
+he looked incredulously at Madeleine. He had hung his coat and hat on a
+peg, and now came forward to the table." Move?" he said once again, and
+prolonged the word as though the channel of thought it opened up was new
+to him.
+
+"Good gracious, yes!--If one's not satisfied with one's rooms, one moves,
+that's all. There's nothing strange about it."
+
+He murmured that the idea had never occurred to him, and was about to draw
+up a chair, when his eye caught a letter that was lying on the lowered
+flap of the bureau. In patent agitation, and without excusing himself, he
+seized it and tore it open. Madeleine saw his face darken. He read the
+letter through twice, from beginning to end, then tore it into a dozen
+pieces and scattered them on the shelf.
+
+"No bad news, I hope?"
+
+He turned his face to her; it was still contracted. "That depends on how
+you look at it, Madeleine," he said, and laughed in an unpleasant manner.
+
+After this, he seemed to forget her again; he stood staring at the scraps
+of paper with a frown. For some minutes, she waited. Then she saw herself
+forced to recall him to the fact of her presence.
+
+"Could you spare me a little attention now?" she asked. At her words, he
+jumped, and, with evident confusion, brought his wandering thoughts home.
+"I can't sit here for ever you know," she added.
+
+"I beg your pardon." He came up to the table, and took the chair he had
+previously had his hand on. "The fact is I--Can I do anything for you,
+Madeleine?"
+
+"For me? Oh, dear, no!--You are surprised to find me here, no doubt! But
+as I'm leaving to-morrow morning, I thought I'd run up and say good-bye to
+you--that's all. A case of Mohammed and the mountain, you see."
+
+"Leaving? To-morrow?"
+
+"Yes.--Goodness, there's nothing wonderful in that, is there? Most people
+do leave some time or other, you know." His reply was inaudible. "It was
+very good of you to look me up," he threw in as an afterthought.
+
+Madeleine, watching him, with a thin, sarcastic smile on her lips, had
+chanced to let her eyes stray to his hands, which he had laid on the
+table, and she continued to fix them, fascinated in spite of herself by
+the uncared-for condition of the nails. These were bitten, and
+broken, and dirty. Maurice, becoming aware of her intent gaze, looked down
+to see what it was at, hastily withdrew his hands ' and hid them in his
+pockets.
+
+"This is the first time I've been in your den, you know," she said
+abruptly. "Really, Maurice, you might have done better. I don't know how
+you've managed to put up with it so long."
+
+"My dear Madeleine, do you think I could afford to live in a palace?"
+
+"A palace?--absurd! You probably pay sixteen or seventeen marks for this
+hole. Well, I could have found you any number of better places for the
+same money--if you had come to me."
+
+"You're very kind. But it has done me well enough."
+
+"So it appears."
+
+Sitting back, she looked round her, in the hope of picking up some neutral
+subject. "Are those your people?" she asked, and nodded at the photograph
+of a family-group, which stood on the top shelf of the bureau. "Three
+boys, are you not? You are like your mother," and she stared, with
+unfeigned curiosity, at the provincial figures, dressed out in their best
+coats and silks, and in heavy gold jewellery.
+
+"Good God, Madeleine!" Maurice burst out at this, his loosely kept
+patience escaping him. "You didn't come here, I suppose, to remark on my
+family?"
+
+"Well, I can't congratulate you on an improvement in your manners, since I
+saw you last."
+
+"I am not aware of having changed."
+
+"As well for you, perhaps. However, I'll tell you about myself, if it
+interests you." She turned her cool, judicial gaze on him again; and now
+she set before him her projects for the future. But though he kept his
+eyes fastened on her face, she saw that he was not listening to what she
+said, or, at most, that he only half heard it; for, when she ceased to
+speak, he did not notice her silence.
+
+She waited, curious to see what would come next, and presently he echoed,
+in his vague way: "Paris, did you say?--Really?"
+
+"Yes--Paris: the capital of France.--I said that, and a good deal more,
+which I don't think you heard.--And now I won't take up your precious time
+any longer.--You've nothing new to tell me, I suppose? You still intend
+staying on here, and fighting out the problem of existence? Well, when you
+have starved satisfactorily in a garret, I hope some one will let
+me know. I'll come over for the funeral."
+
+She rose, and began to button her jacket.
+
+"And England has absolutely no chance? English music must continue to
+languish, without hope of reform?"
+
+"How can you remember such rot! I was a terrible fool when I talked like
+that."
+
+"I liked you better as a fool than I do now, with your acquired wisdom.
+And I won't go from here without offering you congratulations, hearty
+congratulations, on the muddle you've made of things."
+
+"That's entirely my own affair."
+
+"You may be thankful it is! Do you think anyone else would want the
+responsibility of it?"
+
+She went out without a further word. But on the landing at the bottom of
+the first flight of stairs, she stood irresolute. She felt annoyed with
+herself that she had allowed an unfriendly tone to dominate their brief
+interview. This was probably the last time she would see him; the last
+chance she would have of telling him just what she thought of him. And
+viewed in that light, it seemed ridiculous to let any artificial delicacy
+of feeling stand in her way. She blew her nose vigorously, and, not being
+used to indecision, turned as she did so, and began to ascend the stairs
+again. Brushing past Frau Krause, she reopened, without knocking, the door
+of Maurice's room.
+
+He had moved the lamp from the table to the bureau, and at her entrance
+was bending over something that lay there, so engrossed that he did not at
+once raise his head.
+
+"Good gracious! What are you doing?" escaped her involuntarily.
+
+At this, he spun round, and, leaning back against the writingtable, tried
+to screen it from her eyes.
+
+She regretted her impulsive curiosity, and did not press him. "Yes, it's
+me again," she said with determination. "And I suppose you'll want to
+accuse me of prying, too, like that female outside.--Look here: it's
+ludicrous for us who have been friends so long to part in this fashion.
+And I, for one, don't intend to do it. There's something I want to say
+before I go--you may be angry and offended if you like; I don't care"--for
+he frowned forbiddingly. "I'm no denser than other people; and I know just
+as well as every one else the wretched mess you've got yourself into--one
+would have to be blind and deaf, indeed, not to know.--Now, look here,
+Maurice! You once said to me, you may remember, that if you had a sister
+you'd like her to be something like me. Will you look on me as that sister
+for a little, and let me give you some sound advice? I told you I was
+going to Paris, and that I had a clear month there. Well, now, throw your
+things together and come with me. You haven't had a decent holiday since
+you've been here. You need freshening up.--Or if not Paris--Paris isn't a
+necessity--we'll go down by Munich and the Brenner to Italy, and I'll be
+cicerone. I'll act as banker, too, and you can regard it as a loan in the
+meantime, and pay me back when you're richer.--Now what do you say?
+Doesn't the plan tempt you?"
+
+"What I say?" he echoed, and looked round him a little helplessly. "Why,
+Madeleine . . . It seems you are determined to run off with me. Once it
+was America, and now it's Italy or Paris."
+
+"Come, say you'll consent, or at least consider it."
+
+"My dear Madeleine! You're all that is good and kind. But you know you're
+only talking nonsense."
+
+She did not answer him at once. "The thing is this," she said with some
+hesitation. "I wasn't quite honest in what I said to you a few minutes
+ago. I have the uncomfortable feeling that I am to a certain degree
+responsible, even to blame, for much of . . . what has happened here. And
+it isn't a pleasant feeling, Maurice."
+
+"My dear girl!" he said again. "If it's any consolation to you to know it,
+I owe you the biggest debt of my life."
+
+"Then you decline my proposal, do you?"
+
+"You're the same good friend you always were. But you're making a mountain
+out of a molehill. What's all this fuss about? Merely because I haven't
+chosen to work my fingers to the bone, and wear my nerves to tatters over
+that old farce of a PRUFUNG. As for my choosing to stay here, instead of
+going home like the rest of you--well, that's a matter of taste, too. Some
+people--like our friend Dove--want affluence, and a fixed position in the
+provinces. Frankly, I don't. I'd rather scrape along here, as best I can.
+That's the whole matter in a nutshell, and it's nothing to make a to-do
+about. For though you think I'm a fool, and can't help telling me so--that,
+too, is a matter of opinion."
+
+"Well, I don't intend to apologise for myself at this date, be sure of
+that! And now I'll go. For if you're resolved to hold me at arm's
+length, there's nothing more to be said.--No, stop a minute, though. Here's
+my address in England. If ever you should return to join us benighted
+ignorants, you might let me know. Or if you find you can't get on here--I
+mean if it's quite impossible--I have money, you know . . . and should be
+glad--at a proper percentage, of course," she added ironically.
+
+"That's hardly likely to happen."
+
+She laid the card on the table. "You never can tell.--Well, good-bye, then,
+and in spite of your obstinacy, I'll perhaps be able to do you a good turn
+yet, Maurice Guest."
+
+As soon as he heard the front door close, he returned to his occupation of
+piecing together the bits of the letter. Ever since he had torn it
+up--throughout her visit--his brain had been struggling to recall its exact
+contents, and without success; for, owing to Madeleine's presence, he had
+read it hastily. Otherwise, what he had done to-day did not differ from
+his usual method of proceeding. This was not the first horrible unsigned
+letter he had received, and he could never prevail on himself to throw
+them in the fire, unopened. He read them through, two or three times,
+then, angered by their contents and by his own weakness, tore them to
+fragments. But the hints and aspersions they contained, remained imprinted
+on his mind. In this case, Madeleine's distracting appearance had
+enfeebled his memory, and he worked long and patiently until the sheet lay
+fitted together again before him. When he knew its contents by heart, he
+struck some matches, and watched the pieces curl and blacken.
+
+Then he left the house.
+
+Her room was in darkness. He stretched himself on the sofa to wait for her
+return.
+
+The words of the letter danced like a writing of fire before him; he lay
+there and re-read them; but without anger. What they stated might be true,
+also it might not; he would never know. For these letters, which he was
+ashamed of himself for opening, and still more for remembering, had not
+been mentioned between them, but were added to that category of things
+they now tacitly agreed to avoid. In his heart, he knew that he cherished
+the present state of uncertainty; it was a twilight state, without
+crudities or sharp outlines; and it was still possible to drift and dream
+in it. Whereas if another terrible certainty, like the last, descended on
+him, he would be forced to marshal his energies, and to suffer afresh. It
+was better not to know. As long as definite knowledge failed him,
+he could give her the benefit of the doubt. And whether what the letters
+affirmed was true or not, hours came when she still belonged wholly to
+him. Whatever happened on her absences from him, as soon as the four walls
+of the room shut them in again, she was his; and each time she returned, a
+burning gratitude for the reprieve filled him anew.
+
+But there was also another reason why he did not breathe a word to her of
+his suspicions, and that was the slow dread that was laming him--the dread
+of her contempt. She made no further attempt to drape it; and he had
+learned to writhe before it, to cringe and go softly. Weeks had passed
+now, since the night on which he had made his last stand against herweeks
+of increasing torture. Just at first, incredible as it had seemed, his
+horrible treatment of her had brought about a slackening of the tension
+between them. The worst that could happen had happened, and he had
+survived it: he had not put an end either to himself or to her. On the
+contrary, he had accepted the fact--as he now saw that he would accept
+every fact concerning her, whether for good or evil. And matters having
+reached this point, a kind of lull ensued: for a few days they had even
+caught a glimpse again of the old happiness. But the pause was
+short-lived: it was like the ripples caused by a stone thrown into water,
+which continue just so long as the impetus lasts. Louise had been a little
+awed by his greater strength, when she had lain cowering on the ground
+before him. But not many days elapsed before her eyes were wide open with
+incredulous amazement. When she understood, as she soon did, that her
+shameless admission, and still more, his punishment of her for it, was not
+to be followed up by any new development; that, in place of subduing her
+mentally as well, he was going to be content to live on as they had been
+doing; that, in fact, he had already dropped back into the old state of
+things, before she was well aware of what was happening: then her passing
+mood of submission swept over into her old flamboyant contempt for him.
+The fact of his having beaten her became a weapon in her hands; and she
+used it unsparingly. To her taunts, he had no answer to make. For, the
+madness once passed, he could not conceive how he had been capable of such
+a thing; in his sane moments of dejection and self-distrust, he could not
+have raised his hand against her, though his life were at stake.
+
+He had never been able to drag from her a single one of the
+reasons that had led to her mad betrayal of him. On this point she was
+inflexible. In the course of that long night which he had spent on his
+knees by her bed, he had persecuted her to disclose her motive. But he
+might as well have spoken to the wind; his questioning elicited no reply..
+Again and again, he had upbraided her: "But you didn't care for Heinz! He
+was nothing to you!" and she neither assented nor gainsaid him. Once,
+however, she had broken in on him: "You believed bad of me long before
+there was any to believe. Now you have something to go on!" And still
+again, when the sluggish dawn was creeping in, she had suddenly turned her
+head: "But now you can go away. You're free to leave me. Nothing binds you
+to a woman like me--who can't be content with one man." Dizzy with fatigue,
+he had answered: "No--if you think that--if you did it just to be rid of
+me--you're mistaken!"
+
+From this night on, they had never reverted to the subject again--which is
+not to say that his brain did not work furiously at it; the search for a
+clue, for the hidden motive, was now his eternal occupation. But to her he
+was silent, sheerly from the dread of again receiving the answer: take me
+as I am, or leave me! In hours such as the present, or in the agony of
+sleepless nights, these thoughts rent his brain. The question was such an
+involved one, and he never seemed to come any nearer a solution of it.
+Sometimes, he was actually tempted to believe what her words implied: that
+it had been wilfully done, with a view to getting rid of him. But against
+this, his reason protested; for, if the letter from Krafft had not
+arrived, he would have known nothing. He did not believe she would have
+told him--would there, indeed, have been any need for her to do so? Nothing
+was changed between them; she lived at his side, just as before; and
+Krafft was out of the way.--At other times, though, he asked himself if
+he were not a fool to be surprised at what had occurred. Had not all roads
+led here? Had he not, as she most truly said, for long harboured the
+unworthiest suspicions of her?--suspicions which were tantamount to an
+admission on his part that his love was no longer enough for her. To have
+done this, and afterwards to behave as if she had been guilty of an
+unpardonable crime, was illogical and unjust.--And yet again, there came
+moments when, in a barbarous clearness of vision, he seemed to get nearest
+to the truth. Under certain circumstances, so he now told himself, he
+would gladly and straightway have forgiven her. If she had been
+drawn, irresistibly, to another, by one of those sudden outbursts of
+passion before which she was incapable of remaining steadfast; if she had
+been attracted, like this, more than half unwilling, wholly humiliated,
+penitent in advance, yet powerless--then, oh then, how willingly he would
+have made allowance for her weakness! But Krafft, of all people!--Krafft,
+of whom she had spoken to him with derisive contempt!--this cold and
+calculated deception of him with some one who made not the least appeal to
+her!--Cold and calculated, did he say? No, far from it! What COULD it have
+been but the sensual caprice of a moment?--but a fleeting, manlike desire
+for the piquancy of change?
+
+These and similar thoughts ran their whirling circles behind his closed
+eyes, as he lay in the waning twilight of the March evening, which still
+struggled with the light of the lamp. But they were hard pressed by the
+contents of the letter: on this night he foresaw that his fixed idea
+threatened to divide up into two branches--and he did not know whether to
+be glad or to regret it. But he admitted to himself that one of these days
+he would be forced to take measures for preserving his sanity, by somehow
+dragging the truth from her; better still, by following her on one of her
+evening absences, to discover for himself where she went, and whether what
+the anonymous writer asserted was true. If he could only have controlled
+his brain! The perpetually repeated circles it drove in--if these could
+once have been brought to a stop, all the rest of him infinitely preferred
+not to know.
+
+Meanwhile, the shadows deepened, and his subconsciousness never ceased to
+listen, with an intentness which no whirligigs of thought could distract,
+for the sound of her step in the passage. When, at length, some short time
+after darkness had set in, he heard her at the door, he drew a long,
+sighing breath of relief, as if--though this was unavowed even to
+himself--he had been afraid he might listen in vain. And, as always, when
+the suspense was over, and she was under the same roof with him again, he
+was freed from so intolerable a weight that he was ready to endure
+whatever she might choose to put upon him, and for his part to make no
+demands.
+
+Louise entered languidly; and so skilled had he grown at interpreting her
+moods that he knew from her very walk which of them she was in. He looked
+surreptitiously at her, and saw that she was wan and tired. It had been a
+mild, enervating day; her hair was blown rough about her face. He
+watched her before the mirror take off hat and veil, with slow, yet
+impatient fingers; watched her hands in her hair, which she did not
+trouble to rearrange, but only smoothed back on either side.
+
+She had not, even in entering, cast a glance at him, and, recognising the
+rasped state of her nerves, he had the intent to be cautious. But his
+resolutions, however good, were not long proof against her over-emphasised
+neglect of his 'presence. Her wilful preoccupation with herself, and with
+inanimate objects, exasperated him. Everything was of more worth to her
+than he was' and she delighted to show it.
+
+"Haven't you a word for me? Don't you see I'm here?" he asked at length.
+
+Even now she did not look towards him as she answered:
+
+"Of course, I see you. But shall I speak next to the furniture of the
+room?"
+
+"So!--That's what I am, is it?--A piece of your furniture!"
+
+"Yes.--No, worse. Furniture is silent."
+
+She was changing her walking-dress for the dressing-gown. This done, she
+dabbed powder on her face out of a small oval glass pot--a habit of hers to
+which he had never grown accustomed.
+
+"Stop putting that stuff on your face! You know I hate it."
+
+Her only answer was to dab anew, and so thickly that the powder was strewn
+over the front of her dress and the floor. The clothes she had taken off
+were flung on a chair; as she brushed past them, they fell to the ground.
+She did not stoop to pick them up, but pushed them out of the way with her
+foot. Sitting down in the rocking-chair, she closed her eyes, and spread
+her arms out along the arms of the chair.
+
+He could not see her from where he lay, but she was within reach of him,
+and, after a brief, unhappy silence, he put out his hand and drew the
+chair towards him, urging it forward, inch by inch, until it was beside
+the sofa. Then he pulled her head down, so that it also lay on the
+cushion, and he could feel her hair against his.
+
+"How you hate me!" he said in a low voice, and as though he were speaking
+to himself. Laying her hand on his forehead, he made of it a screen for
+his eyes. "Who could have foreseen this!" he said again, in the same
+toneless way.
+
+Louise lay still, and did not speak.
+
+"Why do you stay with me?" he went on, looking out from under her hand. "I
+often ask myself that. For you're free to come and go as you choose."
+
+Her eyes opened at this, though he did not see it. "And I choose to stay
+here! How often am I to tell you that? Why do you come back on it
+to-night? I'm tired--tired."
+
+"I know you are. I saw it as soon as you came in. It's been a tiring day,
+and you probably . . . walked too far."
+
+With a jerk, she drew her hand out of his, and sat upright in her chair.
+Something, a mere tone, the slight pause, in his apparently harmless
+words, incensed her. "Too far, did I?--Oh, to-night at least, be honest!
+Why don't you ask me straight out where I have been?--and what I have done?
+Can't you, for once, be man enough to put an open question?"
+
+"Nothing was further from my mind than to make implications. It's you
+who're so suspicious. Just as if you had a bad conscience--something
+really to conceal."
+
+"Take care!--or I shall tell you--where I've been! And you might regret
+it."
+
+"No. For God's sake!--no more confessions!"
+
+She laughed, and lay back. But a moment later, she cried out: "Why don't
+you go away yourself? You know I loathe the sight of you; and yet you
+stick on here like like a leech. Go away, oh, why can't you go away!"
+
+"To-day, I might have taken you at your word."
+
+At the mention of Madeleine's name, she pricked up her ears. "Oho!" she
+said, when lie had finished his story. "So Madeleine pays you visits, does
+she?--the sainted Madeleine! You have her there, and me here.--A pretty
+state of things!"
+
+"Hold your tongue! I'm not in the mood to-night to stand your gibes."
+
+"But I'm in the mood to make them. And how is one to help it when one
+hears that that ineffable creature is no better than she ought to be?"
+
+"Hold your tongue!" he cried again. "How dare you speak like that of the
+girl who has been such a good friend to me!"
+
+"Friend!" she echoed. "What fools men are! She's in love with you, that's
+all, and always has been. But you were never man enough to know what it
+was she wanted--your friend!"
+
+"Ah, you----!" The nervous strain of the afternoon reached its
+climax. "You! Yes!--that's you all over! In your eyes nothing is good or
+pure. And you make everything you touch dirty. You're not fit to take a
+decent woman's name on your lips!"
+
+She sprang up from her chair. "And that's my thanks!--for all I've
+done--all I've sacrificed for you! I'm not fit to take a decent woman's
+name on my lips! For shame, for shame! For who has made me what I am but
+you! Oh, what a fool I was, ever to let you cross this door! You!--a man
+who is content with other men's leavings!"
+
+"It was the worst day's work you ever did in your life. Everything bad has
+come from that.--Why couldn't you have held back, and refused me? We might
+still have been decent, happy creatures, if you hadn't let your vile
+nature get the better of you. You wouldn't marry me--no, no! You prefer to
+take your pleasure in other ways.--A man at any cost, Madeleine said once,
+and God knows, I believe it was true!"
+
+She struck him in the face. "Oh, you miserable scoundrel! You!--who never
+looked at me but with the one thought in your head! Oh, it's too much!
+Never, never while I live I would rather die first.--shall you ever touch
+me again!"
+
+She continued to weep, long after he had left her. Still crying, her
+handkerchief pressed to her eyes, her body shaken by her sobs, she moved
+blindly about the room, opening drawers and cupboards, and heaping up
+their contents on the bed. There was a limit to everything; she could bear
+her life with him no longer; and, with nerveless fingers, she strove to
+collect and pack her belongings, preparatory to going away.
+
+
+
+
+XII.
+
+
+
+Easter fell early, and the Ninth Symphony had been performed in the
+Gewandhaus before March was fairly out. Now, both Conservatorium and
+Gewandhaus were closed, and the familiar haunts were empty.
+
+Hitherto, Maurice had made shift to preserve appearances: at intervals,
+not too conspicuously far apart, he had gone backwards and forwards to his
+classes, keeping his head above water with a minimum of work. Now,
+however, there was no further need for deceiving people. Most of those who
+had been his fellow-students had left Leipzig; he could not put his finger
+on a single person remaining with whom he had had a nearer acquaintance.
+No one was left to comment on what he did and how he lived. And this
+knowledge withdrew the last prop from his sense of propriety. He ceased to
+face the trouble that care for his person implied, just as he gave up
+raising the lid of the piano and making a needless pretence of work.
+Openly now, he took up his abode in the BRUDERSTRASSE, where he spent the
+long, idle days stretched on the sofa, rolling cigarettes--in far greater
+numbers than he could smoke, and vacantly, yet with a kind of gusto, as if
+his fingers, so long accustomed to violent exercise, had a relish for the
+task. He was seldom free from headache; an iron ring, which it was
+impossible to loosen, bound his forehead. His disinclination to speech
+grew upon him, too; not only had he no thoughts that it was worth breaking
+the silence to express; the effort demanded by the forming of words was
+too great for him. His feeling of indifference-stupefying
+indifference--grew so strong that sometimes he felt it beyond his strength
+consciously to take in the shape of the objects about the room.
+
+The days were eventless. He lay and watched her movements, which were
+spiritless and hurried, by turns, but now seldom marked by the gracious
+impulsiveness that had made up so large a part of her charm. He was
+content to live from hour to hour at her side; for that this was his last
+respite, he well knew. And the further the month advanced, the more
+tenaciously he clung. The one thought which now had force to rouse him
+was, that the day would come on which he would see her face for
+the last time. The fact that she had given herself to another, while yet
+belonging to him, ceased to affect him displeasurably, as did also his
+fixed idea that she was, at the present moment, deceiving him anew. His
+sole obsession was now a fear of the inevitable end. And it was this fear
+which, at rare intervals, broke the taciturn dejection in which he was
+sunk, by giving rise to appalling fits of violence. But after a scene of
+this kind, he would half suffocate her with remorse. And this, perhaps,
+worked destruction most surely of all: the knowledge that, despite the
+ungovernable aversion she felt for him, she could still tolerate his
+endearments. Not once, as long as they had been together, had she refused
+to be caressed.
+
+But the impossibility of the life they were leading broke over Louise at
+times, with the shock of an ice-cold wave.
+
+"If you have any feeling left in you--if you have ever cared for me in the
+least--go away now!" she wept. "Go to the ends of the earth--only leave
+me!"
+
+He was giddy with headache that day. "To whom? Who is it you want now?"
+
+One afternoon as he lay there, the landlady came in with a telegram for
+him, which she said had been brought round by one of Frau Krause's
+children--she tossed it on the table, as she spoke, to express the contempt
+she felt for him. Several minutes elapsed before he put out his hand for
+it, and then he did so, because it required less energy to open it than to
+leave it unopened. When he had read it, he gave a short laugh, and threw
+it back on the table. Louise, who was in the other part of the room, came
+out, half-dressed, to see what the matter was. She, tool laughed at its
+contents in her insolent way, and, on passing the writing-table, pulled
+open the drawer where she kept her money.
+
+"There's enough for two. And you're no prouder in this, I suppose, than in
+anything else."
+
+The peremptory summons home, and the announcement that no further
+allowance would be remitted, was not a surprise to him; he had known all
+along that, sooner or later, he would be thrown on his own resources. It
+had happened a little earlier than he had expected--that was all. A week
+had still to run till the end of the month.--That night, however, when
+Louise was out, he meditated, in a desultory fashion, over the likely and
+unlikely occupations to which he could turn his hand.
+
+A few days later, she came home one evening in a different mood:
+for once, no cruel words crossed her lips. They sat side by side on the
+sofa; and of such stuff was happiness now made that he was content.
+Chancing to look up, he was dismayed to see that her eyes were full of
+tears, which, as he watched, ran over and down her cheeks. He slid to his
+knees, and laid his head in her lap.
+
+She fell asleep early; for, no matter what happened, how uneventful or how
+tragically exciting her day was, her faculty for sleep remained unchanged.
+It was a brilliant night; in the sky was a great, round, yellow moon, and
+the room was lit up by it. The blind of the window facing the bed had not
+been lowered; and a square patch of light fell across the bed. He turned
+and looked at her, lying in it. Her face was towards him; one arm was
+flung up above her head; the hand lay with the palm exposed. Something in
+the look of the face, blanched by the unreal light, made him recall the
+first time he had seen it, and the impression it had then left on his
+mind. While she played in Schwarz's room, she had turned and looked at
+him, and it had seemed to him then, that some occult force had gone out
+from the face, and struck home in him. And it had never lessened. Strange,
+that so small a thing, hardly bigger than one's two closed fists, should
+be able to exert such an influence over one! For this face it was--the pale
+oval, in the dark setting, the exotic colouring, the heavy-lidded
+eyes--which held him; it was this face which drew him surely back with a
+vital nostalgia--a homesickness for the sight of her and the touch of
+her--if he were too long absent. It had not been any coincidence of
+temperament or sympathies--by rights, all the rights of their different
+natures, they had not belonged together--any more than it had been a mere
+blind uprush of sensual desire. And just as his feelings for her had had
+nothing to do with reason, or with the practical conduct of his life so
+they had outlasted tenderness, faithfulness, respect. What ever it was
+that held him, it lay deeper than these conventional ideas of virtue. The
+power her face had over him was undiminished, though he now found it
+neither beautiful nor good; though he knew the true meaning of each deeply
+graven line.--This then was love?--this morbid possession by a woman's
+face.
+
+He laid his arm across his tired eyes, and, without waiting to consider
+the question he had propounded, commenced to follow out a new train of
+thought. No doubt, for each individual, there existed in one other
+mortal some physical detail which he or she could find only in this
+particular person. It might be the veriest trifle. Some found it, it
+seemed, in the colour of an eye; some in the modulations of a voice, the
+curve of a lip, the shape of a hand, the lines of a body in motion.
+Whatever it chanced to be, it was, in most cases, an insignificant
+characteristic, which, for others, simply did not exist, but which, to the
+one affected by it, made instant appeal, and just to that corner of the
+soul which had hitherto suffered aimlessly for the want of it--a suffering
+which nothing but this intonation, this particular smile, could allay. He
+himself had long since learnt what it was, about her face, that made a
+like appeal to him. It was her eyes. Not their size, or their dark
+brilliancy, but the manner of their setting: the spacious lid that fell
+from the high, wavy eyebrow, first sloping deeply inwards, then curving
+out again, over the eyeball; this, and the clean sweep of the broad, white
+lid, which, when lowered, gave the face an infantine look--a look of
+marble. He knew it was this; for, on the strength of a mere hinted
+resemblance, he had been unable to take his eyes off the face of another
+woman; the likeness in this detail had met his gaze with a kind of shock.
+But what a meaningless thing was life, when the way a lid drooped, or an
+eyebrow grew on a forehead, could make such havoc of your nerves! And more
+especially when, in the brain or soul that lay behind, no spiritual trait
+answered to the physical.--Well, that was for others to puzzle over, not
+for him. The strong man tore himself away while there was still time, or
+saved himself in an engrossing pursuit. He, having had neither strength
+nor saving occupation, had bartered all he had, and knowingly, for the
+beauty of this face. And as long as it existed for him, his home was
+beside it.
+
+He turned restlessly. Disturbed in her dreams, Louise flung over on her
+other side.
+
+"Eugen!" she murmured. "Save me!--Here I am! Oh, don't you see me?"
+
+He shook her by the arm. "Wake up!"
+
+She was startled and angry. "Won't you even let me sleep?"
+
+"Keep your dreams to yourself then!"
+
+There was a savage hatred in her look. "Oh, if I only could! . . . if only
+my hands were strong enough!--!I'd kill you!"
+
+"You've done your best."
+
+"Yes. And I'm glad! Remember that, afterwards. I was glad!"
+
+It had been a radiant April morning of breeze and sunshine, but towards
+midday, clouds gathered, and the sunlight was constantly intercepted.
+Maurice had had occasion to fetch something from his lodgings and was on
+his way back. The streets were thronged with people: business men,
+shop-assistants and students, returning to work from the restaurants in
+which they had dined. At a corner of the ZEITZERSTRASSE, a hand-cart had
+been overturned, and a crowd had gathered; for, no matter how busy people
+were, they had time to gape and stare; and they were now as eager as
+children to observe this incident, in the development of which a stout
+policeman was wordily authoritative. Maurice found that he had loitered
+with the rest, to watch the gathering up of the spilt wares, and to hear
+the ensuing altercation between hawker and policeman. On turning to walk
+on again, his eye was caught and held by the tall figure of a man who was
+going in the same direction as he, but at a brisk pace, and several yards
+in front of him. This person must have passed the group round the cart.
+Now, intervening heads and shoulders divided them, obstructing Maurice's
+view; still, signs were not wanting in him that his subliminal
+consciousness was beginning to recognise the man who walked ahead. There
+was something oddly familiar in the gait, in the droop of the shoulders,
+the nervous movement of the head, the aimless motion of the dangling hands
+and arms--briefly, in all the loosely hung body. And, besides this, the
+broad-brimmed felt hat . . . Good God! He stiffened, with a sudden start,
+and, in an instant, his entire attention was concentrated in an effort to
+see the colour of the hair under the hat. Was it red? He tried to strike
+out in lengthier steps, but the legs of the man in front were longer, and
+his own unruly. After a moment's indecision, however, he mastered them,
+and then, so afraid was he of the other passing out of sight, that he all
+but ran, and kept this pace up till he was close behind the man he
+followed. There he fell into a walk again, but a weak and difficult walk,
+for his heart was leaping in his chest. He had not been mistaken. The
+person close before him, so close that he could almost have touched him,
+was no other than Schilsky--the Schilsky of old, with the insolent,
+short-sighted eyes, and the loose, easy walk.
+
+Maurice followed him--followed warily and yet unreflectingly--right down
+the long, populous street. Sometimes blindly, too, for, when the
+street and all it contained swam before him, he was obliged to shut his
+eyes. People looked with attention at him; he caught a glimpse of himself
+in a barber's mirror, and saw that his face had turned a greenish white.
+His mind was set on one point. Arrived at the corner where the street ran
+out into the KONIGSPLATZ, which turning would Schilsky take? Would he go
+to the right, where lay the BRUDERSTRASSE, or would he take the lower
+street to the left? Until this question was answered, it was impossible to
+decide what should be done next. But first, there came a lengthy pause:
+Schilsky entered a musicshop, and remained inside, leaning over the
+counter, for a quarter of an hour. Finally, however, the corner was
+reached. He appeared to hesitate: for a moment it seemed as if he were
+going straight on, which would mean fresh uncertainty. Then, with a sudden
+outward fling of the hands, he went off to the left, in the direction of
+the Gewandhaus.
+
+Maurice did not follow him any further. He stood and watched, until he
+could no longer see the swaying head. After that he had a kind of
+collapse. He leaned up against the wall of a house, and wiped the
+perspiration from his forehead. Passers by believed him to be drunk, and
+were either amused, or horrified, or saddened. He discovered, in truth,
+that his legs were shaking as if with an ague, and, stumbling into a
+neighbouring wine-shop, he drank brandy--not enough to stupefy him, only
+to give back to his legs their missing strength.
+
+To postpone her knowing! To hinder her from knowing at any cost!--his
+blurred thoughts got no further than this. He covered the ground at a mad
+pace, clinging fast to the belief that he would find her, as he had left
+her, in bed. But his first glimpse of her turned him cold. She was
+standing before the glass, dressed to go out. This in itself was bad
+enough. Worse, far worse, was it that she had put on, to-day, one of the
+light, thin dresses she had worn the previous spring, and never since. It
+was impossible to see her tricked out in this fashion, and doubt her
+knowledge of the damning fact. He held it for proved that she was dressed
+to leave him; and the sight of her, refreshed and rejuvenated, gave the
+last thrust to his tottering sense. He demanded with such savageness the
+meaning of her adornment, that the indignant amazement with which she
+turned on him was real, and not feigned.
+
+"Take off that dress! You shan't go out of the house in it!--Take it off!"
+
+He raved, threatened, implored, always with icy fingers at his
+heart. He knew that she knew; he would have taken his oath on it; and he
+only had room in his brain for one thought: to prevent her knowing. His
+rage spent itself on the light, flowery dress. As nothing he said moved
+her, he set his foot on the skirt, and tore it down from the waist. She
+struck at him for this, then took another from the wardrobe--a still
+lighter and gaudier one. They had never yet gone through an hour such as
+that which followed. At its expiry, clothes and furniture lay strewn about
+the room.
+
+When Louise saw that he was not to be shaken off, that, wherever she went
+on this day, he would go, too, she gave up any plan she might have had,
+and followed where he led. This was, as swiftly as possible, by the
+outlying road to the Connewitz woods. If he could but once get her there,
+they would be safe from surprise. Once out there, in solitude, among the
+screening trees, something, he did not yet know what, but something
+would--must--happen.
+
+He dragged her relentlessly along. But until they got there! His eyes grew
+stiff and giddy with looking before him, behind him, on all sides. And
+never had she seemed to move so slowly; never had she stared so brazenly
+about her, as on this afternoon. With every step they took, certainty
+burned higher in him; the thin, fixed smile that disfigured her lips said:
+do your worst; do all you can; nothing will save you! He did not draw a
+full breath till they were far out on the SCHLEUSSIGER WEG. Then he
+dropped her arm, and wiped his face.
+
+The road was heavy with mud, from rains of the preceding day. Louise,
+dragging at his side, was careless of it, and let her long skirt trail
+behind her. He called her attention to it, furiously, and this was the
+first time he had spoken since leaving the house. But she did not even
+look down: she picked out a part of the road that was still dirtier, where
+her feet sank and stuck.
+
+They crossed the bridge, and joined the wood-path. On one of the first
+seats they came to, Louise sank exhausted. Filled with the idea of getting
+her into the heart of the woods, he was ahead of her, urging the pace; and
+he had taken a further step or two before he saw that she had remained
+behind. He was forced to return.
+
+"What are you sitting there for?" He turned on her, with difficulty
+resisting the impulse to strike her full in her contemptuous white face.
+
+She laughed--her terrible laugh, which made the very nerves twitch
+in his finger-tips. "Why does one usually sit down?"
+
+"ONE?--You're not one! You're you!" Now he wished hundreds of listeners
+were in their neighbourhood, that the fierceness of his voice might carry
+to them.
+
+"And you're a madman!"
+
+"Yes, treat me like the dirt under your feet! But you can't deceive
+me.--Do you think I don't know why you're stopping here ?"
+
+She looked away from him, without replying.
+
+"Do you think I don't know why you've decked yourself out like this?"
+
+"For God's sake stop harping on my dress!"
+
+"Why you've bedizened yourself? . . . why you were going out? . . . why
+you've spied and gaped eternally from one side of the street to the
+other?"
+
+As she only continued to look away, the desire seized him to say something
+so incisive that the implacability of her face would have to change, no
+matter to what. "I'll tell you then!" he shouted, and struck the palm of
+one hand with the back of the other, so that the bones in both bit and
+stung. "I'll tell you. You're waiting here . . . waiting, I say! But
+you'll wait to no purpose! For you've reckoned without me."
+
+"Oh, very well, then, if it pleases you, I'm waiting! But you can at least
+say for what? For you perhaps?--for you to regain your senses?"
+
+"Stop your damned sneering! Will you tell me you don't know who's--don't
+know he's here?"
+
+Still she continued to overlook him. "He?--who?--what?" She flung the
+little words at him like stones. Yet, in the second that elapsed before
+his reply, a faint presentiment widened her eyes.
+
+"You've got the audacity to ask that?" Flinging himself down on the seat,
+he put his hands in his pockets, and stretched out his legs. "Who but your
+precious Schilsky!--the man who knew how you ought to be treated . . . who
+gave you what you deserved!"
+
+His first feeling was one of relief: the truth was out; there was an end
+to the torture of the past hour. But after this one flash of sensation, he
+ceased to consider himself. At his words Louise turned so white that he
+thought she was going to faint. She raised her hand to her throat, and
+held it there. She tried to say something, and could not utter a sound.
+Her voice had left her. She turned her head and looked at him, in
+a strange, apprehensive way, with the eyes of a trapped animal.
+
+"Eugen!--Eugen is here?" she said at last. "Here?--Do you know what you're
+saying?" Now that her voice had come, it was a little thin whisper, like
+the voice of a sick person. She pushed hat and hair, both suddenly become
+an intolerable weight, back from her forehead.
+
+Still he was not warned. "Will you swear to me you didn't know?"
+
+"I know? I swear?" Her voice was still a mere echo of itself. But now she
+rose, and standing at the end of the seat furthest from him, held on to
+the back of it. "I know?" she repeated, as if to herself. Then she drew a
+long breath, which quivered through her, and, with it, voice and emotion
+and the power of expression returned. "I know?" she cried with a startling
+loudness. "Good God, you fool, do you think I'd be here with you, if I had
+known?--if I had known!"
+
+A foreboding of what he had done came to Maurice. "Take care!--take care
+what you say!"
+
+She burst into a peal of hysterical laughter, which echoed through the
+woods.
+
+"Take care!" he said again, and trembled.
+
+"Of what?--of you, perhaps? YOU!"
+
+"I may kill you yet."
+
+"Oh, such as you don't kill!"
+
+She lowered her veil, and stooped for her gloves. He looked up at her
+swift movement. There was a blueness round his lips.
+
+"What are you going to do?"
+
+She laughed.
+
+"You're . . . you're going to him! Louise!--you are NOT going to him?"
+
+"Oh, you poor, crazy fool, what made you tell me?"
+
+"Stay here!" He caught her by the sleeve. But she shook his hand off as
+though it were a poisonous insect. "For God's sake, think what you're
+doing! Have a little mercy on me!"
+
+"Have you ever had mercy on me?"
+
+She took a few, quick steps away from the seat, then with an equally
+impulsive resolve, came back and confronted him.
+
+"You talk to me of mercy?--you !--when nothing I could wish you would be
+bad enough for you?--Oh, I never thought it would be possible to hate
+anyone as I hate you--you mean-souled, despicable dummy of a man!--Why
+couldn't you have let me alone? I didn't care that much for you--not THAT
+much! But you came, with your pretence of friendship, and your flattery,
+and your sympathy--it was all lies, every word of it! Do you think what
+has happened to us would ever have happened if you'd been a different kind
+of man?--But you have never had a clean thought of me--never! Do you
+suppose I haven't known what you were thinking and believing about me in
+these last weeks?--those nights when I waited night after night to see a
+light come back in his windows? Yes, and I let you believe it; I wanted you
+to; I was glad you did--glad to see you suffer. I wish you were dead!--Do
+you see that river? Go and throw yourself into it. I'll stand here and
+watch you sink, and laugh when I see you drowning.--Oh, I hate you--hate
+you! I shall hate you to my last hour!"
+
+She spat on the ground at his feet. Before he could raise his head, she
+was gone.
+
+He made an involuntary, but wholly uncertain, movement to follow her, did
+not, however, carry it out, and sank back into his former attitude. His
+cold hands were deep in his pockets, his shoulders drawn up; and his face,
+drained of its blood, was like the face of an old man. He had made no
+attempt to defend himself, had sat mute, letting her vindictive words go
+over him, inwardly admitting their truth. Now he closed his eyes, and kept
+them shut, until the thudding of his heart grew less forcible. When he
+looked up again, his gaze met the muddy, sluggish water, into which she
+had dared him to throw himself. But he did not even recall her taunt. He
+merely sat and stared at the river, amazed at the way in which it had, as
+it were, detached itself from other objects. All at once it had acquired a
+life of its own, and it was difficult to believe that it had ever been an
+integral part of the landscape.
+
+He remained sitting till the mists were breast-high. But even when, after
+more than one start--for his legs were stiff and numbed--he rose to go
+home, he did not realise what had happened to him. He was only aware that
+night had fallen, and that it would be better to get back in the direction
+of the town.
+
+The twinkling street-lamps did more than anything towards rousing him. But
+they also made him long, with a sudden vehemence, for some warm, brightly
+lighted interior, where it would be possible to forget the night--haunted
+river. He sought out an obscure cafe, and entering, called for brandy. On
+this night, he was under no necessity to limit himself; and he
+sat, glowering at the table, and emptying his glass, until he had died a
+temporary, and charitable, death. The delicious sensation of sipping the
+brandy was his chief remembrance of these hours; but, also, like far-off,
+incorporate happenings, he was conscious, as the night deepened, of
+women's shrill and lively voices. and of the pressure of a woman's arms.
+
+
+
+
+XIII.
+
+
+
+He wakened, the next morning, to strange surroundings. Half opening his
+eyes, he saw a strip of drab wall-paper, besprinkled with crude pink
+roses, and the black and gilt frame of an oblong mirror. He shut them
+again immediately, preferring to believe that he was still dreaming.
+Somewhere in the back of his head, a machine was working, with slow,
+steady throbs, which made his body vibrate as a screw does a steamer. He
+lay enduring it, and trying to sleep again, to its accompaniment. But just
+as he was on the point of dozing off, a noise in the room startled him,
+and made him wide awake. He was not alone. Something had fallen to the
+floor, and a voice exclaimed impatiently. Peering through his lids, he
+looked out beyond the will which had first chained his attention. His eyes
+fell on the back of a woman, who was sitting in front of one of the
+windows, doing her hair. In her hand she held a pair of curlingtongs, and,
+before her, on the foot-end of the sofa, a hand-glass was propped up. Her
+hair was thick and blond. She wore a black silk chemise, which had slipped
+low on her plump shoulders; a shabby striped petticoat was bound round her
+waist, and her naked feet were thrust into down-trodden, felt shoes.
+Maurice lay still, in order that she should not suspect his being awake.
+For a few minutes, there was silence; then he was forced to sneeze, and at
+the sound the woman muttered something, and came to the side of the bed. A
+curl was imprisoned between the blades of the tongs, which she continued
+to hold aloft, in front of her forehead.
+
+"NA, KLEINER! . . . had your sleep out?" she asked in a raucous voice. As
+Maurice did not reply, but closed his eyes again, blinded by the sunshine
+that poured into the room, she laughed, and made a sound like that with
+which one urges on a horse. "Don't feel up to much this morning . . . eh?
+HERRJE, KLEINER, but you were tight!" and, at some remembrance of the
+preceding night, she chuckled to herself. "And now, I bet you, you feel as
+if you'd never be able to lift your head again. Just wait a jiffy! I'll
+get you something that'll revive you."
+
+She waddled to the door and he heard her call: "JOHANN, EINEN
+SCHNAPS!"
+
+Feet shuffled in the passage; she handed Maurice a glass of brandy.
+
+"There you are!--that'll pull you together. Swallow it down," she said, as
+he hesitated. "You'll feel another man after it.--And now I'll do what I
+wouldn't do for every one--make you a coffee to wash down the nasty
+physic."
+
+She laughed loudly at her own joke, and laid the curlingtongs aside. He
+watched her move about the room in search of spirit-lamp and coffee-mill.
+Beneath the drooping black chemise, her loose breasts swayed.
+
+"Not that I've much time," she went on, as she ground the coffee. "It's
+gone a quarter to twelve already, and I like fresh air. I don't miss a
+minute of it.--So up you get! Here, dowse your head in this water."
+
+Leaning against the table, Maurice drank the cup of black coffee, and
+considered his companion. No longer young, she was as coarsely haggard as
+are the generality of women of her class, scanned by cruel daylight. And
+while she could never have been numbered among the handsome ones of her
+profession, there was yet a certain kindliness in the smallish blue eyes,
+and in her jocose manner of treating him.
+
+She, too, eyed him as he drank.
+
+"SAG''MAL KLEINER--will you come again?" she broke the silence.
+
+"What's your name?" he asked evasively, and put the cup down on the table.
+
+"Oh . . . just ask for Luise," she said. On her tongue, the name had three
+long-drawn syllables, and there was a v before the i.
+
+She was nettled by his laugh.
+
+"What's wrong with it?" she asked. "GEH', KLEINER, SEI NETT!--won't you
+come again?"
+
+"Perhaps."
+
+"Well, ask for Luise, if you do. That's enough."
+
+He turned to put on his coat. As he did so, a disagreeable thought crossed
+his mind; he coloured, and ran his hand through his pockets.
+
+"I've no money."
+
+"What?--rooked, are you? Well, it wasn't here, then. I'm an honest girl, I
+am!"
+
+She came over to him, not exactly suspicious, still with a slight
+diminution of friendliness in eyes and tone; and, as, if there were room
+for a mistake on his part, herself went through the likely pockets in
+turn.
+
+"Not a heller!"
+
+Her sharp little eyes travelled over him.
+
+"That'd do."
+
+She laid her hand on his scarf-pin. He took it out and gave it to her. She
+stood on tip-toe, for she was dumpy, put her arms round his neck, and gave
+him a hearty kiss.
+
+"DU GEFALLST MIR!" she said. "I like you. Kiss me, too, can't you?"
+
+He looked down on the plump, ungainly figure, and, without feeling either
+satisfaction or repugnance, stooped and kissed the befringed forehead.
+
+"ADIEU, KLEINER! Come again."
+
+"ADIEU, LUISE!"
+
+He was eyed--he felt it--from various rooms, the doors of which stood ajar.
+The front door was wide open, and he left it so. He descended the stairs
+with a sagging step. Half-way down, he stopped short. He had spoken the
+truth when he said that he was without money; every pfennig he possessed,
+had been in his pocket the night before. Under these circumstances, he
+could undertake nothing. But, even while he thought it, his hand sought
+his watch, which he carried chainless in a pocket of his vest. It was
+there, and as his fingers closed on it, he proceeded on his way.
+
+The day had again set in brilliantly; the shadows on roads and pavements
+had real depth, and the outlines of the houses were hard against a
+cloudless sky. He kept his eyes fixed on the ground; for the crudeness of
+the light made them ache.
+
+His feet bore him along the road they knew better than any other. And
+until he had been in the BRUDERSTRASSE, he could not decide what was to
+come next. He dragged along, with bowed head, and the distance seemed
+unending. Even when he had turned the corner and was in the street itself,
+he kept his head down, and only when he was opposite the house, did he
+throw a quick glance upwards. His heart gave a terrifying leap, then
+ceased to beat: when it began again, it was at a mad gallop, which
+prevented him drawing breath. All three windows stood wide open; the white
+window-curtains hung out over the sills, and flapped languidly in the
+breeze.
+
+He crossed the road with small steps, like a convalescent. He pushed back
+the heavy house-door, and entered the vestibule, which was cold
+and shadowy. Step by step, he climbed to the first landing. The door of
+the flat was shut, but the little door in the wall stood ajar, and he
+could see right into the room.
+
+He leaned against the banisters, where the shadow was deepest. Inside the
+room that had been his world, two charwomen rubbed and scoured, talking as
+they worked in strident tones. The heavy furniture had been pulled into
+the middle of the floor, and shrouded in white coverings; chairs were laid
+on the bed, with their legs in the air. There was no trace of anything
+that had belonged to Louise; all familiar objects had vanished. It was a
+strange, unnatural scene: he felt as one might feel who, by means of some
+mysterious agency, found it possible to be present at his own burial,
+while he was still alive.
+
+One of the women began to beat the sofa; under cover of the blows, which
+reverberated through the house, he slunk away. But he did not get far:
+when he was recalled to himself by a new noise in one of the upper
+storeys, he found that he was standing on the bottom step of the stairs,
+holding fast to the round gilt ball that surmounted the last post of the
+banisters. He moved from there to the warmth of the house-door, and, for
+some time before going out, stood sunning himself, a forlorn figure, with
+eyes that blinked at the light. He felt very cold, and weak to the point
+of faintness. This sensation reminded him that he had had no solid food
+since noon the day before. His first business was obviously to eat a meal.
+Fighting a growing dizziness, he trudged into the town, and, having pawned
+his watch, went to a restaurant, and forced himself to swallow the meal
+that was set before him--though there were moments when it seemed
+incredible that it was actually he who plied knife and fork. He would have
+been glad to linger for a time, after eating, but the restaurant was
+crowded, and the waiter openly impatient for him to be gone. As he rose,
+he saw the man flicking the crumbs off the cloth, and setting the table
+anew; some one was waiting to take his place.
+
+When he emerged again into the thronged and slightly dusty streets, his
+previous strong impression of the unreality of things was upon him again.
+Now, however, it seemed as though some submerged consciousness were at
+work in him. For, though he was not aware of having reviewed his position,
+or of having cast a plan of action, he knew at once what was to be done;
+and, as before, his feet bore him, without bidding, where he had to go.
+
+He retraced his steps, and half-way down the KLOSTERGASSE, entered a
+gunsmith's shop. The owner, an elderly man in a velvet cap and
+gold-rimmed spectacles, looked at him over the tops of these, then said
+curtly, he could not oblige him. What was more, he came out after him,
+and, standing in the shop-door, watched him go down the street. At his
+refusal, Maurice had hurriedly withdrawn: now, as he went, he wa's
+troubled by the fact that the man's face was vaguely familiar to him. For
+the length of a street-block, he endeavoured to recollect where he had
+seen the face before. And suddenly he knew: it was this very shop he had
+once been in to inquire after Krafft, and this was the same man who had
+then been so uncivil to him. But as soon as he remembered, the knowledge
+ceased to interest him.
+
+Rendered cautious by his first experience, he went to another
+neighbourhood, and having sought for some time, found a smaller shop, in a
+side street. He had ready this time the fiction of a friend and a
+commission. But a woman regretted wordily that her husband had just
+stepped out; he would no doubt be back again immediately; if the Herr
+would take a chair and wait a little?--,But the thought of waiting made him
+turn on his heel. Finally, at his third attempt, a young lad gave him what
+he desired, without demur; and, after he had known a quick fear lest he
+should not have sufficient money for the purchase, the matter was
+satisfactorily settled.
+
+On returning to his room, he found a letter lying on the table. He pounced
+upon it with a desperate hope. But it was only the monthly bill for the
+hire of the piano.
+
+In entering, he had made some noise, and Frau Krause was in the room
+before he knew it. She was primed for an angry scene. But he made short
+work of her complaints and accusations.
+
+"To-morrow! I'll have time for all that to-morrow."
+
+He turned the key in the door, and sitting down before the writing-table,
+commenced to go through drawers and pigeonholes. It had not been a habit
+of his to keep letters; but nevertheless a certain number had accumulated,
+and these he was averse to let fall into the hands of strangers. He
+performed his work coolly, with a pedantic thoroughness. He had no
+sympathy with those people, who, doing what he was about to do, left
+ragged ends behind them. His mind had always inclined to law and order.
+And so, having written a note authorising Frau Krause to keep his books
+and clothes, in place of the outstanding rent, he put a match to the fire
+which was laid in the stove, and, on his knees before it, burnt all such
+personal trifles as had value for himself alone. He postponed, to
+the last, even handling the small packet made up of the letters he had had
+from Louise. Then their turn came, too. Kneeling before the stovedoor, he
+dropped them, one by one, into the flames. The last to burn was the first
+he had received--a mere hastily scrawled line, a twisted note, which opened
+as it blackened. I MUST SPEAK TO YOU. WILL YOU COME TO ME THIS EVENING? As
+he watched it shrivel, he had a vivid recollection of that long past day.
+He remembered how he had tried to shave, and how he had dressed himself in
+his best, only to fling back again into his working-clothes, annoyed with
+himself for even harbouring the thought. Yes; but that had always been his
+way: he had expended consideration and delicacy where none was necessary;
+he had seen her only as he wished to see her.--After this, the photographs.
+They were harder to burn; he was forced to tear them across, in two, three
+pieces. Even then, the flames licked slowly; he watched them creep up--over
+her dress, her hands, her face.
+
+Afternoon had turned to evening. When, at length, everything was in order,
+he lay down on the sofa to wait for it to grow quite dark. But almost at
+once, as if his back had been eased of a load, he fell asleep. When he
+opened his eyes again, the lamp had burned low, and filled the room with a
+poisonous vapour. It was two o'clock. This was the time to go. But a
+boisterous wind had risen, and was blustering round the house. He said to
+himself that he would wait still a little longer, to see if it did not
+subside. In waiting, he slept again, heavily, as he had not done for many
+a night, and when he wakened next, a clock was striking four. He rose at
+once, and with his boots in his hand, crept out of the house.
+
+Day was breaking; as he walked, a thin streak of grey in the east widened
+with extreme rapidity, and became a bank of pale grey light. He met an
+army of street-sweepers, indistinguishably male and female, returning from
+their work, their long brooms over their shoulders. It had rained a
+little, and the pavements were damp and shining. The wind had dropped to a
+mere morning breeze, which met him at street-corners. Before his mind's
+eye rose a vision of the coming day. He saw one of those early spring days
+of illimitable blue highness and white, woofy clouds, which stand
+stationary where the earth meets the sky; the brightness of the sun makes
+the roads seem whiter and the grass greener, bringing out new tints and
+colours in everything it touches. Over it all would run this light,
+swift wind, bending the buds, and even, towards afternoon,
+throwing up a fine white dust.--And it was to the thought of the dust that
+his mind clung most tenaciously, as to some homely and familiar thing
+which he would never see again.
+
+He had made straight for the well-known seat with the bosky background.
+Arrived at it, he went a few steps aside, into an open space among the
+undergrowth, which was now generously sprinkled with buds. The leaves that
+had fallen during the previous autumn made a carpet under his feet.
+Somewhere, in the distance, a band was playing: a body of soldiers was
+being marched out to exercise. He opened the case he was carrying, and
+laid it on the seat. He was not conscious of feeling afraid; if he had a
+fear, it was only lest, in his inexperience, he should do what he had to
+do, clumsily. In loosening the clothes at his neck, however, he perceived
+that his hand was shaking, and this made him aware that his heart also was
+beating unevenly. He stood and fumbled with his collar-stud, which he
+could not unfasten at once, and, while he was busied thus, the mists that
+blinded him fell away. He ceased, abruptly, to be the mere automaton that
+had moved and acted, without will of its own, for the past four-and-twenty
+hours. Standing there, with his fingers at his neck, he was pierced by a
+sudden lucid perception of what had happened. An intolerable spasm of
+remembrance gripped him. With a rush of bitterness, which was undiluted
+agony, all the shame and suffering of the past months swept over him once
+more, concentrated in a last supreme moment. And, as though this were not
+enough, while he still wrenched at his neck, tearing his shirt-collar in
+his desperation, her face rose before him--but not the face he had known
+and loved. He saw it as he had seen it for the last time, disfigured by
+hatred of him, horribly vindictive, as it had been when she spat on the
+ground at his feet. This vision gave him an unlooked-for jerk of courage.
+Without allowing himself another second in which to reason or reflect, he
+caught up the revolver from the seat, and pressed the cold little nozzle
+to his chest. Simultaneously he received a sharp blow, and heard the crack
+of a report--but far away . . . in the distance. He was on his back,
+without knowing how he had got there; straight overhead waved the bare
+branches of a tree; behind them, a grey morning cloud was sailing. For
+still the fraction of a second, he heard the familiar melody, to which the
+soldiers marched; and the branch swayed . . . swayed . . .
+
+Then, as suddenly as the flame of a candle is puffed out by the
+wind, his life went from him. His right hand twitched, made as if to open,
+closed again, and stiffened round the iron of the handle. His jaw fell,
+and, like an inner lid, a glazed film rose over his eyes, which for hours
+afterwards continued to stare, with an expression of horror and amaze, at
+the naked branches of the tree.
+
+
+* * * * *
+
+
+One midday, a couple of years later, a number of those who had formed the
+audience at one of the last rehearsals of the season, were gathered round
+the back entrance to the Gewandhaus. It was a fresh spring day, gusty and
+sunny by turns: sometimes, there came a puff of wind that drove every
+one's hand to his hat; at others, the broad square basked in an almost
+motionless sunshine. The small crowd lingered in order to see, at close
+quarters, the violinist who had played there that morning. Only a few of
+those present had known Schilsky personally; but one and all were curious
+to catch a glimpse of the quondam Leipzig student, who, it was whispered,
+would soon return to the town to take up a leading position in the
+orchestra. Schilsky was now KONZERTMEISTER in a large South German town;
+but it was rather as a composer that his name had begun to burn on
+people's tongues. His new symphonic poem, UBER DIE LETZTEN DINGE, had
+drawn down on his head that mixture of extravagant laudation and abusive
+derision which constitutes fame.
+
+"Take a look at his wife, if she's there," said one American to another,
+who was standing beside him. "She studied here same time he did, and is
+said to have been very handsome. An English chap shot himself on her
+account."
+
+"You don't say!" drawled his companion. "It's a queer thing, how common
+suicide's getting to be. You can't pick up a noospaper, nowadays, without
+finding some fool or other has blown his brains out."
+
+"Look out!--here they come."
+
+Behind the thick glass doors, Schilsky became visible. He was talking
+volubly to a Jewish-looking stranger in a fur-lined coat. His hat was
+pushed far back on his forehead; his face was flushed with elation; and,
+consciously unconscious of the waiting crowd, he gesticulated as he
+walked, throwing out the palms of his loosely dangling hands, and
+emphasising his words with restless movements of the head. He was
+respectfully greeted by those who had known him. A minute or two later
+came Louise. At her side was a pianist with whom Schilsky had
+given a concert earlier in the week--a shabbily dressed young man, with a
+world of enthusiasm in his candid blue eyes. He, too, was talking with
+animation. But Louise had no attention for anyone but her husband.
+
+"Well, not my taste . . . I must confess," laughed the man who had been
+severe on suicide. "Fine eyes, if you like--but give me something fresher."
+
+She was wearing a long cloak. The door, in swinging to, caught an end of
+this, and hindered her progress. Both she and her companion stooped to
+free it; their hands met; and the bystanders saw the young man colour
+darkly over face and neck.
+
+The others had got into one of the droschkes that waited in line beside
+the building. The dark stranger put an impatient head out of the window.
+The two behind quickened their steps; the young man helped Louise in,
+mounted himself, and slammed the door.
+
+The driver gathered up the reins, cracked his whip, and the big-bodied
+droschke went swerving round the corner, clattering gutturally on the
+cobbled stone pavement.
+
+The group of loiterers at the door dispersed.
+
+
+End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of Maurice Guest
+by Henry Handel Richardson
+
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