diff options
| author | pgww <pgww@lists.pglaf.org> | 2025-08-28 05:22:02 -0700 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | pgww <pgww@lists.pglaf.org> | 2025-08-28 05:22:02 -0700 |
| commit | 5468b9b96372f5b5d92cf203add2bb83b11bab44 (patch) | |
| tree | 63d6f99e4d5eafd9d349124a8532665952e110e5 /76750-h | |
Diffstat (limited to '76750-h')
| -rw-r--r-- | 76750-h/76750-h.htm | 5553 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 76750-h/images/cover.jpg | bin | 0 -> 225930 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 76750-h/images/drop_i.jpg | bin | 0 -> 169841 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 76750-h/images/drop_t.jpg | bin | 0 -> 95216 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 76750-h/images/drop_w.jpg | bin | 0 -> 190549 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 76750-h/images/i_a001.jpg | bin | 0 -> 61173 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 76750-h/images/i_b001.jpg | bin | 0 -> 254183 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 76750-h/images/i_b045.jpg | bin | 0 -> 509395 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 76750-h/images/i_b168.jpg | bin | 0 -> 468522 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 76750-h/images/i_b169.jpg | bin | 0 -> 513310 bytes |
10 files changed, 5553 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/76750-h/76750-h.htm b/76750-h/76750-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a1f64f2 --- /dev/null +++ b/76750-h/76750-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,5553 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title> + The two countesses | Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> +<style> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +h1,h2 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + font-weight: normal; +} + +h1 {font-size: 200%;} + +p { + margin-top: .1em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .1em; + text-indent: 1em; +} + +.customcover {visibility: hidden; display: none;} +.x-ebookmaker .customcover {visibility: visible; display: block;} + +.plist {text-indent: 0;} +.p2 {margin-top: 2em;} +.p4 {margin-top: 4em;} +.p6 {margin-top: 6em;} +.p8 {margin-top: 8em;} + +.b4 {margin-bottom: 4em;} + +.negativeindent {text-indent: -3em;} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: 33.5%; + margin-right: 33.5%; + clear: both; +} + +hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} +hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} +@media print { hr.chap {display: none; visibility: hidden;} } + + +hr.r10 {width: 10%; margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 45%; margin-right: 5%;} + + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} +h2.nobreak {page-break-before: avoid;} + + + +.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: small; + text-align: right; + font-style: normal; + font-weight: normal; + font-variant: normal; + text-indent: 0; +} /* page numbers */ + + + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 10%; + font-size: 85%; +} + + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.right {text-align: right;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +.allsmcap {font-variant: small-caps; text-transform: lowercase;} + + + + +/* Images */ + +img { + max-width: 100%; + height: auto; +} +img.w100 {width: 100%;} + + +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; + page-break-inside: avoid; + max-width: 100%; +} + + + + + +.figright { + float: right; + clear: right; + margin-left: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-right: 0; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; + page-break-inside: avoid; + max-width: 100%; +} +/* comment out next line and uncomment the following one for floating figright on ebookmaker output */ +/* .x-ebookmaker .figright {float: none; text-align: center; margin-left: 0;}*/ + .x-ebookmaker .figright {float: right;} + + +/* Poetry */ +/* uncomment the next line for centered poetry */ + .poetry-container {display: flex; justify-content: center;} +.poetry-container {text-align: center;} +.poetry {text-align: left; margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%;} +.poetry .stanza {margin: 1em auto;} +.poetry .verse {text-indent: -3em; padding-left: 3em;} + +/* Transcriber's notes */ +.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA; + color: black; + font-size:small; + padding:0.5em; + margin-bottom:5em; + font-family:sans-serif, serif; +} + +/* Poetry indents */ +.poetry .indent0 {text-indent: -3em;} + +.fs250 {font-size: 250%;} +.fs160 {font-size: 160%;} +.fs140 {font-size: 140%;} +.fs120 {font-size: 120%;} +.fs85 {font-size: 85%;} + +.pad3 {padding-left: 3em;} +.sebenberg-castle {font-variant: small-caps; margin-right: 5em;} + +.lht {line-height: 1.6em;} + +/* for image dropcaps */ +img.drop-cap2 { + float: left; + margin-top: -.6em; + margin-right: 0.2em; + margin-bottom: 0; + margin-left: -3em;} + +p.drop-cap2:first-letter { + color: transparent; + visibility: hidden; + margin-left: -1.8em;} + +.x-ebookmaker-2 img.drop-cap2 { + display: none + } + +.x-ebookmaker-2 p.drop-cap2:first-letter + {color: inherit; + visibility: visible; + margin-left: 0;} + +/* Illustration classes */ +.illowe8 {width: 8em;} +.illowp75 {width: 75%;} +.illowp30 {width: 30%;} + +</style> +</head> +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76750 ***</div> +<div class="transnote"> +<p>New original cover art included with this eBook is granted to the public domain.</p> +<p>Some minor changes to the text are noted at the end of the book.</p> +</div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<figure class="figright illowe8" id="i_a001"> + <img class="w100" src="images/i_a001.jpg" alt="colophon"> +</figure> +</div> + + + + +<h1 class="p4"> +THE TWO COUNTESSES +</h1> + +<p class="p6 center"> +<i>THE “UNKNOWN” LIBRARY</i><br> +</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p class="center nobreak" id="THE_UNKNOWN_LIBRARY">THE “UNKNOWN” LIBRARY.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<p>1. <b>MLLE. IXE.</b> By <span class="smcap">Lanoe Falconer</span>.</p> + +<p>2. <b>STORY OF ELEANOR LAMBERT.</b> +By <span class="smcap">Magdalen Brooke</span>.</p> + +<p>3. <b>MYSTERY OF THE CAMPAGNA.</b> +By <span class="smcap">Von Degen</span>.</p> + +<p>4. <b>THE FRIEND OF DEATH.</b> +Adapted by <span class="smcap">Mary T. Serrano</span>.</p> + +<p>5. <b>PHILIPPA.</b> By <span class="smcap">Ella</span>.</p> + +<p>6. <b>THE HOTEL D’ANGLETERRE.</b> +By <span class="smcap">Lanoe Falconer</span>.</p> + +<p>7. <b>AMARYLLIS.</b> By ΓΕΩΡΓΙΟΣ +ΔΡΟΣΙΝΗΣ.</p> + +<p>8. <b>SOME EMOTIONS AND A +MORAL.</b> By <span class="smcap">John Oliver Hobbes</span>.</p> + +<p>9. <b>EUROPEAN RELATIONS.</b> By +<span class="smcap">Talmage Dalin</span>.</p> + +<p>10. <b>JOHN SHERMAN, and DHOYA.</b> +By <span class="smcap">Ganconagh</span>.</p> + +<p>11. <b>THROUGH THE RED-LITTEN +WINDOWS.</b> By <span class="smcap">Theodor Hertz-Garten</span>.</p> + +<p>12. <b>BACK FROM THE DEAD.</b> By +<span class="smcap">Saqui Smith</span>.</p> + +<p>13. <b>IN TENT AND BUNGALOW.</b> +By <span class="smcap">An Idle Exile</span>.</p> + +<p>14. <b>THE SINNER’S COMEDY.</b> By +<span class="smcap">John Oliver Hobbes</span>.</p> + +<p>15. <b>THE WEE WIDOW’S CRUISE.</b> +By <span class="smcap">An Idle Exile</span>.</p> + +<p>16. <b>A NEW ENGLAND CACTUS.</b> +By <span class="smcap">Frank Pope Humphrey</span>.</p> + +<p>17. <b>GREEN TEA.</b> By <span class="smcap">V. Schallenberger</span>.</p> + +<p>18. <b>A SPLENDID COUSIN.</b> By <span class="smcap">Mrs. +Andrew Dean</span>.</p> + +<p>19. <b>GENTLEMAN UPCOTT’S +DAUGHTER.</b> By <span class="smcap">Tom Cobbleigh</span>.</p> + +<p>20. <b>AT THE THRESHOLD.</b> By +<span class="smcap">Laura Dearborn</span>.</p> + +<p>21. <b>HER HEART WAS TRUE.</b> By +<span class="smcap">An Idle Exile</span>.</p> + +<p>22. <b>THE LAST KING OF YEWLE.</b> +By <span class="smcap">P. L. McDermott</span>.</p> + +<p>23. <b>A STUDY IN TEMPTATIONS.</b> +By <span class="smcap">John Oliver Hobbes</span>.</p> + +<p>24. <b>THE PALIMPSEST.</b> By <span class="smcap">Gilbert +Augustin Thierry</span>.</p> + +<p>25. <b>SQUIRE HELLMAN, and Other +Stories.</b> By <span class="smcap">Juhani Aho</span>.</p> + +<p>26. <b>A FATHER OF SIX.</b> By <span class="smcap">N. E. +Potapeeko</span>.</p> + +<p>27. <b>THE TWO COUNTESSES.</b> By +<span class="smcap">Marie Ebner Von Eschenbach</span>.</p> +</div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + + +<div class="chapter"> +<p class="center fs250 negativeindent">THE TWO<br> +<span class="pad3">COUNTESSES</span></p> + +<p class="p4 center fs85">BY</p> + +<p class="center fs120">MARIE EBNER VON ESCHENBACH</p> + +<p class="p4 center fs85">TRANSLATED BY</p> + +<p class="center fs140">MRS. WAUGH</p> + +<p class="center p8">NEW YORK<br> +<span class="fs140">CASSELL PUBLISHING COMPANY</span><br> +<span class="smcap fs85">104 & 106 Fourth Avenue</span> +</p> +</div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + + +<div class="chapter"> +<p class="center p8"> +<span class="smcap">Copyright, 1893, by</span><br> +CASSELL PUBLISHING COMPANY.<br> +</p> +<p class="center p2"> +<i>All rights reserved.</i><br> +</p> +</div> + +<p class="right fs85 p8"> +THE MERSHON COMPANY PRESS,<br> +<span style="margin-right: 3.5em;">RAHWAY, N. J.</span><br> +</p> + + + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"></div> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</span></p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp75" id="i_b001" style="max-width: 25em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/i_b001.jpg" alt="Ornate image"> +</figure> + +<p class="center lht"><span class="fs120">THE</span><br> +<span class="fs160">TWO COUNTESSES.</span></p> + +<hr class="r10"> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="COUNTESS_MUSCHI">COUNTESS MUSCHI.</h2> + + + +<p class="right"> +<span class="sebenberg-castle">Sebenberg Castle,</span><br> +<span style="margin-right: 2em;">November, 1882.</span><br> +</p> + +<figure> + <img class="drop-cap2" src="images/drop_t.jpg" alt="T" style="max-width: 5em;"> +</figure> + +<p class="drop-cap2">The shooting season is +over; all our guests have +left the castle; we are +as dull as ditch water, +and I at length have +time to write to you, dear Nesti.</p> + +<p>Poor Fred, too, has gone. He +was awfully kind and amusing, +but woefully unhappy. I am +truly sorry for him, poor fellow, +but I cannot help it. His estate +up in the mountains brings in +next to nothing; and we could<span class="pagenum" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</span> +not live upon air, first-rate as it +seems to be up there.</p> + +<p>But I have something much +more interesting to tell you about, +and will plunge you at once in +<i lang="la">milias res</i>—Latin, my love; comes +from <i lang="fr">milieu</i>. Where did I pick +that up? Heaven only knows. +I am awfully quick at learning, as +my poor old governess Nagel, +whom I have brought up, solemnly +avers to this day.</p> + +<p>So, now, prick up your ears!</p> + +<p>Yesterday, while engaged in +collecting postage stamps—you +must know that one million +stamps procures one a little Chinese +baby; no humbug! You +may trust my word for it, and +send me a few thousands if you +happen to have them by you—I +suddenly came upon one from +Würtemberg.</p> + +<p>“Who is our correspondent in +Würtemberg, mamma?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</span></p> + +<p>“That is a secret,” answers +mamma, and I see that she is +burning to tell me. A few minutes +later I know all about it. +As a young man, papa had served +in the same regiment with a +Count Aich-Kronburg. Both fell +in love with the same girl, a +rich heiress; the Swabian was the +successful lover, papa the first to +congratulate him. So they remained +friends. Now their son +and heir, the young count, is on +his travels, and is to stop at Sebenberg +to do the agreeable to papa +and mamma and—whom else? +Mamma made me guess, and then +embraced me, as our mothers have +a way of doing when they hope +soon to be rid of us.</p> + +<p>So my probable lord and master +is a Swabian! If only I knew +what he was like, and that he has +not great clod-hopping feet on +which to stump off to drink beer<span class="pagenum" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</span> +with his steward and people +through the long hours of the +afternoon!</p> + +<p>But, oh, my dear girl, after supper +it was so deadly dull that I +began to think if he had feet like +an elephant I would accept him! +An evening in which we are condemned +to our own society, as +sometimes happens now at Sebenberg, +is quite too ghastly. Papa +persuades himself that he is reading +the <cite>Sporting Times</cite>, and goes +fast asleep over it. Mamma knits +white wraps, the patterns of which +are decided by the form of her +cigar ash as it falls. My uncle +plays tactics with the singing-mistress, +and Aunt Julia devotes +herself to word-making with +Fräulein Nagel.</p> + +<p>“The fifty-seventh word, Fräulein?”</p> + +<p>“A village in Servia.”</p> + +<p>“In Servia?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</span></p> + +<p>“Yes. It begins with a K and +ends with an E.”</p> + +<p>“Kindly pass me Meyer.”</p> + +<p>“I have looked there, and cannot +find it.”</p> + +<p>“Then Ritter.”</p> + +<p>And they fall to studying Ritter. +There you have table No. 1.</p> + +<p>At table No. 2, at the far end of +the drawing room, the little ones +are playing games with the nursery +governess, and I sit on the +<i lang="fr">causeuse</i> in solitary state, betwixt +youth and age, like Dido upon +Naxos.</p> + +<p>Dear me! another classical allusion. +You really must overlook +it; I am so bored I am growing +quite stupid. My bulldog gives +a stretch and yawns at me.</p> + +<p>“<i lang="fr">Venez</i>,” I say to her, “let us go +out on to the balcony. Perhaps a +bat may fly by for our amusement.”</p> + +<p>As I gracefully recline upon the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</span> +parapet I hear a manly tread +behind me. It is papa. He, too, +leans upon the balcony, and at +first says nothing. Then suddenly:</p> + +<p>“Pussy!”</p> + +<p>“What, papa?”</p> + +<p>“What are you doing?”</p> + +<p>“Questioning the bats, papa.”</p> + +<p>He laughs.</p> + +<p>“I’ll tell you something, but, +mind, no chattering.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no, papa.”</p> + +<p>“You won’t say a word?”</p> + +<p>“No, papa.”</p> + +<p>He looks straight into my eyes. +“Not even to mamma?” And +then he told me all about the +young count’s coming visit.</p> + +<p>I merely asked did the Kronburgs +keep a racing stud? Papa +did not know—thought most +probably not. Alas!</p> + +<p class="right"> +<span style="margin-right: 6em;">Your</span><br> +<span class="smcap">Muschi</span>.<br> +</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</span></p> + +<p class="right p2"> +<span class="sebenberg-castle">Sebenberg Castle,</span><br> +<span style="margin-right: 2em;">November 10, 1882.</span><br> +</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Nesti</span>: Do not be so impatient. +I cannot sit all day long +at my writing table keeping you +informed as to our doings. We +are not nearly so far advanced as +you imagine; there is no talk of +“congratulations” at present, and +I beg above all things that you +will not indulge in sentimentalities. +The name of the <i lang="fr">fiancé</i>—how +ridiculous you are, child—is +Carl, like our groom of the chambers, +who, ever since the count’s +arrival, has been called by his +surname. He is not so tall as +papa, though a very good height, +and would have quite presentable +feet if only he had a better bootmaker. +But he wears square-toed +boots that are simply hideous.</p> + +<p>He arrived in a kind of cloth +tunic, which the poor fellow apparently +had made expressly for<span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</span> +traveling. I must find out who +is his tailor, that I may duly +warn all my friends against him. +It is unfortunate, too, that he +wears gloves like any commercial +traveler, or one of the <i lang="fr">jeunesse +dorée</i> of a German novel.</p> + +<p>Understand from this, Nesti, +that I have not, by any means, +made up my mind yet.</p> + +<p>The amusing part of it is the +intense amiability displayed by +papa and mamma toward him. +It is irresistibly funny. Papa +even kept quite wide awake last +evening; and he, who usually +takes no interest in talking to +people about anything but their +horses or dogs, began inquiring +all about the laws of forestry in +Swabia; whether land was farmed +out there; if owners lived much +upon their estates; what kind of +hunting there was, et-z-r-a (which +stands for “and so on.” I am<span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</span> +afraid it is not the right way to +write it, but, to tell truth, I never +could do it properly).</p> + +<p>The count answered very nicely, +only he is rather shy, and that +gives him a somewhat pedantic +manner. About nine o’clock it +began to get decidedly tame, +when, to my surprise and delight, +Fred unexpectedly appeared with +his brother and the two Hockhaus. +They were on their way +to the military steeple chase at +Raigern, and came to beg quarters +for the night. I at once got up a +circus entertainment, sent for a +four-in-hand driving whip, and +trotted Fred out first as the thoroughbred +mare Arabi. It sent us +into fits to see how he sprang over +chairs, and backed, and reared, and +finally picked up my handkerchief +from the floor with his teeth. +Then we made Nagel sit down to +the piano and play a set of quadrilles<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</span> +for the four to dance. They +did it splendidly; they are such +dear boys. The youngest Hockhaus +is so good-natured, and he +really has a face like a horse. At +last Fred, jumping upon his brother’s +back, introduced himself as +Mlle. Pimpernelle upon her splendidly +trained horse Rob Roy. If +only you could have seen him—the +coquettish glances he gave, +his mincing airs, and the farewell +kisses of the hand he sent back in +all directions as he was gayly +trotted off. I never saw anything +so funny. We were immensely +amused, papa and mamma as +much, as any of us. But the +count looked on stiff as buckram, +until I thought to myself, “My +good sir, if you happened to be +stolen. I’d not be the one to send +the crier after you.” The best +thing of all in our circus was when +the noble steed, having had more<span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</span> +than enough of Mlle. Pimpernelle’s +riding whip, suddenly took +to rearing and plunging, and rolled +over with his fair rider.</p> + +<p>We were so overheated from +laughing that, to cool down, I +proposed a <i lang="fr">jeu d’esprit</i> of my own +invention. The whole company +sat round a table, a saucer of +pounded sugar was brought in, +and each one in turn had to dip +his nose in it. Then, when all +were ready, I gave the word—one, +two, three—and everyone had to +try to lick away the sugar from +the tip of his nose. The one who +did it first was the winner. Oh, +to see the grimaces and contortions +we made, and how indignant +my dear old Nagel was, and yet +had to join in it! description fails +me.</p> + +<p>Papa was the first winner, then +Kuni Hockhaus, then I; and Fred +only, with his dear little <i lang="fr">retroussé</i><span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</span> +nose, could not accomplish it; he +was thoroughly beaten, poor fellow! +He is such a dear old boy.</p> + +<p class="right"> +<span style="margin-right: 6em;">Your</span><br> +<span class="smcap">Muschi</span>.<br> +</p> + + +<p class="right p2"> +<span class="sebenberg-castle">Sebenberg Castle,</span><br> +<span style="margin-right: 2em;">November 19, 1882.</span><br> +</p> + +<p>With all due respect be it said, +my love, you are as pedantic as +any old bluestocking. Only go +on in like manner and you will +soon be eligible for a writer of +penny dreadfuls.</p> + +<p>I have given you, as yet, no +description of his personal appearance? +All right; I will ask him +for his passport; therein you will +read: Blue eyes, fair hair, reddish +mustache, face clean shaven, regular +features—and you will be +just as wise as you were before. +Clumsy? No, that he is decidedly +not. His ears are the best +point about him, small, well<span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</span> +shaped, and close set. And disposition? +That you needs must +know, too. Well, good, a trifle +quiet, with a touch of the grand-fatherly +in it. But I will modernize +him, poor fellow.</p> + +<p>I told him the other day that +the men about us were in the +habit of getting their hosiery and +a couple of suits, at least, from +England every year: and that an +ill-dressed man was an anomaly +in society.</p> + +<p>“Why?” he asked. “Please +explain.”</p> + +<p>His simplicity annoyed me, and +I answered, “The thing is clear +enough, and needs no explanation.”</p> + +<p>“Good Heavens!” said he, “if it +be our clothes alone which fit us +for society, how highly we should +esteem those who make them. +A man ought never to be seen but +arm in arm with his tailor.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</span></p> + +<p>Have you ever heard anything +so idiotic? Tell me honestly.</p> + +<p>Yesterday we were out with the +harriers. I, well in front on my +good Harras, not caring so much +for the hunt, but enjoying the +exhilaration of meeting the keen +wind, when, at a bit of a ditch my +fool of a horse, hang it! gathers +himself for a springs as if he were +going at a hurdle, and I—Nesti—I +flew over his head.</p> + +<p>There lay I, and Harras standing +snorting angrily, and looking +as if he had never set eyes on me +before. He seemed not to know +me, would not believe I was his +mistress, was ready to tear off +away from me, and let me limp +home on foot.</p> + +<p>Nesti, my heart beat wildly. +Rising very slowly, so as not to +frighten him I kept saying, +“Harasserl, quiet, my beauty, it +was only a joke!” And while he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</span> +snorted at me I caught hold of +his bridle, and, looking round, +saw no one near. Oh, what joy, +thought I; led Harras to the bank +of the ditch, and was just about +to spring into the saddle, when he +grows wild again, and gets quite +unmanageable—and why? He +hears a horse galloping, and true +enough, that stupid count must +needs come dashing up.</p> + +<p>“What has happened, countess?” +he asks.</p> + +<p>“Nothing,” I answer, and turn +away that he may not see my hot +cheeks. “I was only doing something +to my saddle.”</p> + +<p>“You are all right?”</p> + +<p>“All right.”</p> + +<p>He springs off his horse, and +without a word holds out his hand. +I place my foot on it, and suffer +myself to be lifted on to the +saddle, and to have the folds of +my habit straightened, without<span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</span> +the slightest idea of whether he +has an inkling of what has happened. +Then, drawing out his +handkerchief, he begins to wipe +me down, and now for the first +time I perceive that I am covered +with mud from head to foot. You +may imagine my feelings. Well! +this done, the count tucks his +handkerchief into his breast +pocket and mounts again, and, +giving Harras a taste of my whip, +I jump him five times backward +and forward over the ditch; not +where it was dry and narrow, but +further on, where it broadens and +is full of water. Then we rode +quietly along to meet papa. It +was a long time before I could +persuade myself to speak; yet it +had to be, if I were not to feel +uncomfortable all the rest of the +day. So at last I said:</p> + +<p>“Please do not tell a soul of +my fall.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</span></p> + +<p>Smiling, he answered, “I give +you my word that I will not +betray you.”</p> + +<p>So for a moment we were good +friends, and I absolutely began to +think whether I would not have +him after all. But it did not last +long, and now I think him simply +detestable. My dear child, he is +nothing but a pedantic old German +schoolmaster. Just listen. +On our way to the stables I +suddenly heard a rustling and +crackling, and among the bushes +espied a pair of little bare +feet.</p> + +<p>“A wood stealer!” cried I. +“Hullo, I must see to that. I’ll +catch the young rascal!”</p> + +<p>And with a look at the count to +keep still, I jumped off my horse +and ran to the opening made by +the little scamp. True enough, +in a very short time out crawls +my man, dragging a whole bundle<span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</span> +of fagots after him. He looks +up, sees me, screeches like a hare, +and scampers off as fast as his +legs will carry him toward the +village. I fly after him; of course +soon catch him up; stop, pull +off his cap, and tell him if he +wants it again he must come to +the castle and fetch it. Where-upon +he whimpers the usual tale; +begs, entreats, kneels to me, until +I have enough of it, and throw +him back his cap. And then +what do you think he did? With +a grimace at me, he had the +impudence to pick up the bundle +of fagots and make off. I was on +the point of going after him, to +give it him hot and strong, when +up rides the count with a face as +long as my arm, and has the +impertinence to say to me:</p> + +<p>“You make an excellent +ranger!”</p> + +<p>“Is it not customary with you<span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</span> +to protect your woods against +wood stealers?” I ask.</p> + +<p>“Oh, undoubtedly,” he makes +reply, “but we prefer to leave that +somewhat subordinate occupation +to our foresters.”</p> + +<p>When I think it over calmly the +answer in itself does not appear +so exasperating; but the way he +looked at me as he said it, making +me feel so uncommonly small.</p> + +<p class="right"> +<span style="margin-right: 6em;">Your</span><br> +<span class="smcap">Muschi</span>.<br> +</p> + + +<p class="right p2"> +<span class="sebenberg-castle">Sebenberg Castle,</span><br> +<span style="margin-right: 2em;">November 28, 1882.</span><br> +</p> + +<p>We are the best of friends +again. Our reconciliation was +effected by means of Rattler and +the little Chinese boy. You +must know, Nesti, that ever since +the count’s arrival papa has been +more than odd. He who on my +sixth birthday gave me my first +pony, and allowed me to have as<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</span> +many dogs as I chose, is now forever +frowning and saying, “Can’t +you find anything better to talk +about than horses?” or “Where +on earth can the child have got +this mania for dogs?” while +mamma, as she lights a fresh +cigar, remarks, “Muschi must +always go to extremes.” That +day it was her ninth since lunch. +Sometimes I amuse myself by +counting how many she gets +through in a day. The end of it +was that when papa heard that +my English terrier had had pups, +he declared that he would throw +every man Jack of them out of +the window if he caught any of +them about the castle. So nothing +remained for me but to ensconce +the whole family party in +the library. Not a soul goes in +there, and the pups are under my +eye.</p> + +<p>They are such hungry little<span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</span> +fellows, and are as comfortable as +possible in their basket under the +table by the fire, cozily hidden by +the table cover, that hangs down +to the ground. Three times a +day I go to see the mother and +take her some milk. To-day their +was great joy; two of the pups +had opened their eyes. I congratulated +their mamma, and said, +“Don’t you think you might move +about a little now, you lazy thing! +Get up, get up!” But she, giving +me a limp paw, sets up barking, +and I, in an agony of fear, take +hold of her nose and hold it +tightly, with a threatening +“Quiet, Rattler, or you will lose +your pups!” At the same moment +I hear a laughing “Good-morning” +behind me. You know the big +armchair that stands in the window +recess, its back turned to the +fireplace? With one knee upon it, +his arms resting upon the back, as<span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</span> +if he were in an opera box, is the +count. “Bother take you, Mr. +Detective!” I think to myself; +and the following conversation +ensues:</p> + +<p><i>I.</i> When did you come in?</p> + +<p><i>He.</i> Oh, I was here long before +you came.</p> + +<p><i>I.</i> Indeed! And pray what +were you doing?</p> + +<p><i>He.</i> Reading.</p> + +<p><i>I.</i> Reading? You need not +think I am such a little greenhorn +as to believe that.</p> + +<p><i>He.</i> Your doubts surprise me! +Why should I not have been +reading?</p> + +<p><i>I.</i> On such a day, when you +might have been following the +hounds? You may tell that to +the marines.</p> + +<p><i>He</i> (springing from his post of +vantage, and coming toward me +with a forbidding expression on +his face). Your opinion of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</span> +pleasure to be derived from books +seems to be but small?</p> + +<p><i>I.</i> Were it a question of life or +death with you, my opinion would +remain the same.</p> + +<p><i>He</i> (with expression still more +forbidding). I am much obliged! +I value my life too highly to +stake it in such a cause.</p> + +<p><i>I.</i> I assure you, on my honor, +you would not be risking much.</p> + +<p><i>He</i> (like an old professor at an +exam.). You apparently occupy +yourself but little with reading?</p> + +<p><i>I.</i> Just enough to do penance +for my sins, and to keep up my +English.</p> + +<p><i>He</i> (with a kind of fatherly +solicitude which strikes me as +intensely comical, and with an air +of severity which exasperates me). +And, may I ask, do you think it +necessary to keep up your French +in the same manner?</p> + +<p><i>I.</i> In the same manner.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</span></p> + +<p>(Oh, my dear, I grew crimson; +for the thought of that wretched +book flashed across my mind that +Fred got for me last winter, and +of which I would not tell you one +word, despite all your entreaties.)</p> + +<p><i>He.</i> You are acquainted, then, +with the modern French ideas of +society?</p> + +<p><i>I</i> (impatiently). I might say +“No,” and you would believe me; +but I hate a lie, and so, like an +honorable fellow, I prefer to say +“Yes.”</p> + +<p><i>He</i> (looks at me a long while—not +angrily this time, but +quite sorrowfully—and murmurs, +“What a pity! but ‘honorable +fellow’ is delightful”). Tell me, +old man—I beg pardon, honored +countess—do you ever read a +German book? We have some +well worth reading.</p> + +<p><i>I.</i> Oh, Goethe and Schiller! +Yes, I know——</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</span></p> + +<p>Nesti, a weary prospect opened +out to me. In imagination I saw +ourselves sitting like the young +couple on the title page of a German +magazine—he reading aloud, +of course out of Schiller; I, in +“attitude of rapt attention,” nestling +up to him; our baby, in the +arms of my one maid and general +factotum, gravely turning over the +leaves of a family Goethe.</p> + +<p>“If that is his picture of our +domestic life,” thought I, “the +sooner I undeceive him the better.” +And as he hurriedly asked, +“You know Goethe and Schiller?” +I answered resolutely, “Pooh! do +not expect me to study the classics. +Goethe, I have always been +told, is immoral; and Schiller is +quite too long-winded for me.”</p> + +<p>So that was settled once for all. +We then talked about other +things, principally about Rattler, +whom he said was a jolly little<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</span> +creature, swearing not to betray +me. And he was as nice as could +be when I asked him to collect +postage stamps for me. It certainly +took him some time before +he understood what I wanted +them for, and that they have to +be sent out to China, as soon as +one has a million, to buy a little +Chinese boy. “And what will you +do with him when you have got +him?” he asked. And I told him +that he was to be christened and +trained for me as my little page, +to stand behind my chair and +wait upon me at table, in a yellow +dress with a long pigtail. The +count laughed heartily (he is +delightful when he laughs) and +with a hearty shake of the hand, +said, “All right, I will help you. +At any rate, this is one ideal +object.” <i lang="fr">Addio.</i></p> + +<p class="right"> +<span style="margin-right: 6em;">Your</span><br> +<span class="smcap">Muschi</span>.<br> +</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</span></p> + + +<p class="right p2"> +<span class="sebenberg-castle">Sebenberg Castle,</span><br> +<span style="margin-right: 2em;">December 6, 1883.</span><br> +</p> + +<p>You may think yourself highly +honored at my sitting down to +write to you at this hour; it is +2 <span class="allsmcap">A. M.</span>, and I am dead tired.</p> + +<p>My dear Nesti, we are in a +whirl. Fred and his friends are +back from Raigern, and have +brought some officers with them. +Old Countess Aarheim and her +four daughters are staying here; +the lake is hard frozen, and the +snow a foot deep.</p> + +<p>Our mornings are spent in visiting +the stables and riding school; +after luncheon we skate or go +sleighing; in the evening we +play games, or dance, or just +simply lounge about. Cloclo, to +my infinite amusement, has set +up a furious flirtation with the +count; Mitzi is still pining with +love for Fred; and as for Kitzi +and Pips, they remain faithful to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</span> +each other, and will carry the day +yet. What can parents do when +their children won’t give in? It +would be too absurd for a captain +to marry on his pay. He certainly +would not be my taste, but +the two geese reply to every common-sense +remonstrance that they +love each other. As if they could +have any reason more senseless for +making each other miserable.</p> + +<p>The count has quite joined the +masculine community, and is first +and foremost among them; he has +given up paying compliments, +and, do you know, my dear, I +have made up my mind to accept +him.</p> + +<p>Fred, who of course scented at +once the meaning of the count’s +visit, is behaving so sensibly that +one cannot praise him enough; he +really is a dear old fellow. Do +you remember at the last carnival +his wearing my colors, and yet,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</span> +even then, he never breathed a +word to trouble me, nor has he +now.</p> + +<p>This morning I was trying the +paces of a foal, and Fred, whip in +hand, came up.</p> + +<p>“How do you like the count?” +said he. “I think him a capital +fellow, and he has thirty thousand +pounds a year.”</p> + +<p>“And not a single racer,” said +I; upon which, with a sly look, he +replied:</p> + +<p>“That will soon be altered. If +you should want a first-rate master +of the hounds, think of a +friend at Rahn up in the mountains——”</p> + +<p>I should think I would! He +shall be one of the first I invite in +my new home, to make people +sociable together.</p> + +<p>Good-night, Nesterl. I declare +I am half asleep—a moment ago I +was wide awake, but the thought<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</span> +of the admirable Clara Aarheim +has set me yawning. “My domesticated +daughter,” as the old +countess calls her, because she has +evidently given up all hope of +establishing her—“my domesticated +daughter” is more insipid +than ever; she would do very well +for a major’s wife—say a major in +the infantry, who lives upon his +pay. Now my young lady has +renounced the world, she finds no +pleasure in society—in other +words, no partners. No one can +endure her with her mincing ways +and everlasting blushes. She +bores even the count, and he is +never as lively with her as with +us. Only fancy, he considers her +good-looking! A good-looking +stick. That kind of beauty is not +to my taste; it reminds me of +those statues we pass by in museums, +with downcast glance, when +we walk along so discreetly with<span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</span> +our mammas—poor mammas! if +they only knew that we are not +as demure as we look!</p> + +<p>Only fancy, the count can be +satirical. He actually persuaded +Clara to mount before us all, and +then praised her riding to the +skies. We were dying with +laughter, and she looked so confused; +and I, catching up a +book, rushed forward, saying +gravely:</p> + +<p>“Allow me to celebrate the +episode in verse,” and sang:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“Slow and sure, slow and sure,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To guard our bones is the best cure?”</div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>Good-night, I am dead asleep; +I must say my prayers in the +morning. And only think, the +count said to me:</p> + +<p>“You have such a charming +voice, what a pity you have never +taken singing lessons.”</p> + +<p>Here I went to sleep last night,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</span> +my pen fell on the paper, and you +will receive a letter adorned with +blots. I have one thing more to +tell you about the worthy Clara. +You must know that she raves +about the count, and took it upon +herself to read me a lecture yesterday.</p> + +<p>“With such a man”—oh! the +emphasis on “such a man,” and +her eyes lit up like a couple of +Bengal lights—“with such a man +you should conduct yourself very +differently, dearest Muschi. He +is not accustomed to the kind of +conversation you indulge in with +the fast young men you have +about you. It is plain that he +likes you; how could it be otherwise? +but it is very evident that +your talk and manners often horrify +him.” And then she must +needs launch out into a tirade +against horsiness and stable talk, +frivolity and lack of reading and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</span> +thinking, and <a id="tn-33">goodness</a> only knows +what. Heaven knows, I detest +everything fast, but her way of +depreciating the things that I +most like and value exhausted +my—never too great—stock of +patience. I dare say I answered +her very rudely, and I certainly +told her that her room was as +good as her company. And so +my lady took herself off, looking +uncommonly like a bedraggled +poodle. And in my first fury I +sat down then and there and made +a sketch of her presiding over the +school of needlework she had +started at home, a book under +each arm, one hand wielding a +birch rod, the other displaying a +darned stocking, upon the tip of +her nose, flattened for the purpose, +pirouettes a tiny weeny +scholar. My caricature made the +round of the drawing room, and +everybody had a secret giggle<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</span> +over it. Nagel, of course, deplored +my fresh piece of mischief, +and had nearly let the cat out of +the bag. Clara was more amused +by it than anyone, which was far +from my intention, and the count +was amazed at my talent for +drawing, and thought it a thousand +pities that I had not had +drawing lessons. The remainder +of the evening he devoted to +Clara, presumably talking to her +about the school of needlework. +Poor man!</p> + +<p class="right"> +<span style="margin-right: 6em;">Yours,</span><br> +<span class="smcap">Muschi</span>.<br> +</p> + +<p>I open this to tell you that the +count has begged me to grant him +an interview. Things are becoming +serious. My parents are +beaming. I will telegraph to you +when our engagement is to be +made known.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</span></p> + + +<p class="right p2"> +<span class="sebenberg-castle">Sebenberg Castle,</span><br> +<span style="margin-right: 2em;">December 28, 1883.</span><br> +</p> + +<p>Yes, dearest, we shall soon be +coming to Vienna, and I shall be +jolly glad to see your sweet self +again, and glad of Carnival. +What a nuisance that it is cut so +short now; there is no possibility +of crowding in enough dances; +and I feel inclined to rush in +madly for gayety. Unluckily +Fred will be away; he is spending +the winter in Old England, as he +wrote papa a few days ago, with +apologies to the ladies for not +having come over to say good-by +before starting. Papa is angry +because Fred rather did him over +some horses—as if that——</p> + +<p>Your letter has just come—the +third in which you bombard me +with questions. Don’t you see +that I have been taking a rise out +of you? How do you suppose +that I should consent to be immured<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</span> +in Swabia, where the men +go in for domestic life as a profession, +and the women knit socks +from conviction?</p> + +<p>We certainly did have a conversation, +Count Carl and I, but of a +very different nature from what +you have been imagining.</p> + +<p>He began by saying that his +visit to us had been a memorable +one, in that it had given him quite +new impressions—had opened out +a new world to him.</p> + +<p>“If it was new to you, you have +adapted yourself very readily to +it,” I made reply.</p> + +<p>“What wonder, with such a +guide as you, countess—such a +model in all knightly arts and +usages.”</p> + +<p>“Is that intended to be ironical?”</p> + +<p>“By no means. I return to my +Penates richer than I came.”</p> + +<p>“To where?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</span></p> + +<p>“To my household gods.”</p> + +<p>“Aha!”</p> + +<p>Here the interview came to a +slight hitch, but I set it going +again by asking what was the +gain he had made by coming +among us.</p> + +<p>“Of a friend!” he exclaimed; +“a young, charming, reliable +friend, named Countess Muschi.”</p> + +<p>“<i lang="fr">Pardi!</i>” I exclaimed.</p> + +<p>And he, losing no time, seized +my hand, coloring fiery red, and +his voice shook. “A friend upon +whose help and support I count in +the most important moment of +my life.”</p> + +<p>“What moment do you mean?”</p> + +<p>“That which must decide the +weal or woe of all my after life—that +in which you will win my +eternal gratitude—by asking——” +Here his shaky voice toppled over +entirely.</p> + +<p>“Whom am I to ask—myself?”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</span> +I blurted out; but, luckily for me, +in his agitation he was unconscious +how I had given myself away, and +went on:</p> + +<p>“Countess Clara Aarheim.”</p> + +<p>Here I must have looked uncommonly +sold, for he exclaimed +hurriedly, “You think there is no +chance for me. Is it too late—is +Countess Clara no longer free?”</p> + +<p>Nesti, human nature would not +stand it; and I broke out with +“What a sell!” Upon which the +poor count was thrown into fresh +alarm, and conjured me to be +frank with him, and only tell him +if he must renounce the idea. +Of course, it would have been a +miracle if such a treasure as Clara +had not already found a suitor, +and he had been a fool to hope +for such a miracle.</p> + +<p>“Stuff and rubbish,” thinks I to +myself; then aloud, “Not such a +fool as you think! I know Clara’s<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</span> +affairs tolerably well. So far she +has had no admirers.”</p> + +<p>“Is it so—is it so?” and seizing +my hand he kissed it passionately. +“And she? Has she not seemed +to care for anyone?”</p> + +<p>“Not a bit of it. A girl is hardly +likely to be so unpractical as to +care for a man if he does not care +for her. That is hardly our way.”</p> + +<p>He heaved a deep sigh.</p> + +<p>“You have no idea what a girl +in your sphere can do, who has +the courage not to ‘be led by +fashion.’”</p> + +<p>“Pray do not expect such <em>courage</em> +from me. To my mind it is +as little like the real thing as is +forced laughter to real honest +mirth.”</p> + +<p>“And yet I do not know. +There may be a higher standpoint +than that of society.”</p> + +<p>“That is the one consolation of +those who are excluded from it.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</span></p> + +<p>“Then at least grant it to such +poor devils, who would otherwise +be left despairing,” he said, with a +good-humored laugh; and, going +back to his subject, he overwhelmed +me with entreaties to +find out from Clara, without her +knowing it, if he were in any way +obnoxious to her.</p> + +<p>To this I answered that I could +save myself that trouble; that he +was anything but obnoxious to +her.</p> + +<p>“And you think, then, that I +may hope in time——?”</p> + +<p>“In time? This very day, if +you only choose to ask.”</p> + +<p>“Countess!”</p> + +<p>“Why are you so surprised? +Clara would never dream for a +moment of refusing you. When +has she ever had a chance of +making such a match before?”</p> + +<p>“Ah—of making such a match,” +he repeated, crestfallen. “If it<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</span> +were only—— You could not have +given me greater discouragement, +countess, than in that one word.”</p> + +<p>And so, in his discouragement, +he poured out to poor me an +harangue about love, intellect, +mutual understanding; winding +up with the trite remark that +nothing in married life is so important +as are these things. Any +poor devil who had not known a +day’s happiness in his life, or +what money can bring, could not +have spoken more eloquently.</p> + +<p>Awfully odd! it did not seem +all nonsense to me—at least not +the whole time. There were +actually moments in which the +thought came over me, perhaps, +after all, he is not so utterly +wrong; perhaps there really is +something in sympathy of taste, +as well as in suitability of position. +(Certainly position alone +does not promote happiness.)<span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</span> +And then I thought to myself, +“You are a good man and clever; +I am not a bad girl or a stupid +one; why should not we have +suited each other? Perhaps I was +a goose for my pains to have +thrown you in Clara’s way! But +that little <i lang="fr">malaise</i> soon passed +over, and I began to picture her +felicity, and the joke it would be +to ask her if she would accept the +count. Then, too, I remembered +the many tricks I had played her; +and how ill I had requited her +friendship for me; and <a id="tn-42">so, extending</a> +my hand in right good fellowship, +I exclaimed:</p> + +<p>“All right! Shake hands upon +it. I will obtain permission for +you to plead your cause. Take +it all in all, Clara is well suited to +you. She has always said that in +marriage the bridegroom was more +to be considered than his rentroll.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</span></p> + +<p>My red sportswoman’s hands +have often been kissed, but never +so fervently as by the count at +that juncture.</p> + +<p>Suffice it to say, Nesti, all went +off splendidly. Clara’s perplexity +was tremendous; how at first she +said No, in her humility and discretion; +how the count then went +at it with a will, swearing a man +could only marry one woman—and +what was to be done if that +woman would not have him?</p> + +<p>The bliss of Casa Aarheim can +be more easily imagined than described. +My people seemed less +overjoyed. Mamma puffed away +at her nineteenth cigar that day. +Papa pinched my cheek, and said:</p> + +<p>“I say, pussy.”</p> + +<p>“What, papa?”</p> + +<p>“You are a goose.”</p> + +<p>“Family secret, papa. If you +betray it, it’s at your own cost.”</p> + +<p>Three days later, the count<span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</span> +went home to make all necessary +preparations for the reception of +his young wife, to whom he is to +be married during Carnival. His +departure was quickly followed +by that of the Aarheims.</p> + +<p>The lovers’ parting was, Heaven +be praised, accomplished without +a scene. He held her hand for a +long pressure in his, looking at +her as if to say, “Trust me.” +She, in the same language, made +answer, “Unreservedly.”</p> + +<p>It was a parting thoroughly +<i lang="fr">comme il faut</i>, and I thought to +myself—but why always confess +to you all that I think?</p> + +<p>Farewell, dear girl, and observe +that it is not always as pleasant +as it looks to be a sporting countess, +pure and simple.</p> + +<p class="right"> +<span style="margin-right: 6em;">Yours,</span><br> +<span class="smcap">Muschi</span>.<br> +</p> + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"></div> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</span></p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp75" id="i_b045" style="max-width: 25em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/i_b045.jpg" alt="Ornate image"> +</figure> + + +<h2 class="nobreak p4" id="COUNTESS_PAULA">COUNTESS PAULA.</h2> + +<figure> + <img class="drop-cap2" src="images/drop_w.jpg" alt="W" style="max-width: 5em;"> +</figure> + +<p class="drop-cap2">We had quite a crowded +reception last night after +the theater. He was +there—more reserved +and silent than ever. +He is going away—about to be +transferred to some other legation—probably +to Serajewo.</p> + +<p>My friends say it is the very +place for him; they are merciless +to any man who happens to be +deficient in “style”; absolutely +merciless.</p> + +<p>Countess Albertine was for +some time in conversation with +the secretary of the French Legation, +by whom he was standing.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</span> +I heard the secretary remark that +our German literature, otherwise +so rich, was curiously deficient +in memoirs. The countess, evidently +not greatly impressed by +this fact, murmured “Ah,” and +smiled as sweetly as if the greatest +homage had been offered at +her shrine. But he whom I like +so well and esteem so highly, he, +who is so gifted and patriotic, +replied:</p> + +<p>“Yes; unfortunately it is too +true.”</p> + +<p>Oh, thought I, then the Frenchman +is right; and I formed a +resolution: If I do not marry—and +I do not mean ever to marry—there +shall I be my whole life +without a single occupation. +Were it not a worthy aim to devote +my poor abilities to help +supply so deplorable a deficiency? +At least I will try. I enter, then, +upon this work with a due feeling<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</span> +of its solemn import. May +Heaven prosper it!</p> + + +<p><span class="smcap">My Memoirs.</span></p> + +<p>The 15th of May, 1865, witnessed +my entry into this world, +to the anything but satisfaction +of my parents. My sister was +already married, my brother preparing +for his final examination. +During the first year of my +existence my father never deigned +to look at me. But I, nothing +daunted, grew big and plump. +Big, or rather tall, I am still; but +plump, Heaven be praised, I am +not. And as for my dear old +father, if at first he did not love +me, there is no trace of any such +want now. He would do anything +for me, and I have quite +given up asking his permission to +anything beforehand; his one and +only answer being always, “Do +whatever you like!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</span></p> + +<p>My childhood was passed almost +entirely alone; first with my +nurse as sole companion; afterward +with my governess, a perfect +angel, knowing no more of the +things of earth than angels do. +For instance—of botany she +simply knew nothing. If I asked +her what was larkspur in French, +she would answer, “<i lang="fr">C’est le coucou +bleu</i>”; a buttercup was “<i lang="fr">le coucou +jaune</i>”; eyebright, “<i lang="fr">le coucou +blanc</i>.” All flowers, that is all +wild and field flowers, to her were +various colored <i lang="fr">coucous</i>. But I +must do her the justice to say +that she was fully authorized not +to go too thoroughly into my +education, my dear good father +having engaged her on the express +stipulation that what he required +for his daughter was a good +“superficial” education. And +that was what I certainly obtained. +Thus for a long time I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</span> +thought I knew the history of the +world from beginning to end; +when suddenly I found that Mme. +Duphot, at mamma’s request, had +quietly suppressed the whole of +one century—that of the Reformation. +They desired that I +should know nothing of Luther. +But I discovered him—in the +eleventh volume of Schlosser’s +“History of the World,” accidentally +forgotten and left behind +when it had been decided to turn +out my brother’s old books and +pack them off to a second-hand +dealer.</p> + +<p>Heaven forgive me if I am a +bad Catholic, but, honestly, Dr. +Luther does not seem to me such +a terrible creature that one dare +not even know of his existence. +Of course I did not venture to +express so heterodox an opinion +to my devout Duphot; it would +have destroyed her peace of mind<span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</span> +forever, and she would henceforth +have been spending all her poor +little savings on the reading of +masses for the restoration of my +endangered faith. But I did tell +the chaplain when next I went to +confession. He merely imposed +an extra penitential prayer—nothing +more; nor did he in any +way alter his customary admonition, +nor the sentence with which +it always closed—“And then say, +‘Dear God, I thank thee for all +the mercies which thou dost +vouchsafe to me, and to my noble +family.’”</p> + +<p>I always used to think it +strangely worded, and not exactly +in accordance with the +manner in which we should address +the Divine Being, who takes +no account of “noble” families, we +being all equal in his sight.</p> + +<p>And this was not the only thing +in which the reverend chaplain<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</span> +gave me ground for astonishment. +Upon learned subjects he +held views shared by no one save, +perhaps, Mme. Duphot and myself—and +myself only up to a +certain period. For example: he +used to give me my geography +lessons, we beginning with physiography +as being the most difficult, +and, once mastered, the rest +being bound to follow as a matter +of course. Among other things +the reverend chaplain informed +us: “At the North Pole it is cold, +and at the South Pole” (Siedpol, +he called it) “hot, I suppose.”</p> + +<p>As he said it the thing seemed +clear, but afterward I had my +doubts, for, on reference to my +dictionary, I found that <i lang="de">süd</i> +(south) and <i lang="de">sied</i> (scorching, boiling) +had nothing whatever to do +with each other.</p> + +<p>But now enough of my studies, +and to turn to my home life.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</span></p> + +<p>It was as happy as it could be. +At the first sign of spring, I and +my Duphot used to repair to +Trostburg, our country seat, +whither my parents followed for +a stay of some weeks during the +hunting season.</p> + +<p>As with the dawn, long before +sunrise, the sky is light, so, long +before my dear ones arrived, my +heart would be full of joyful expectation. +True, their coming +never realized things exactly as I +had pictured them. The many +guests arriving simultaneously +with them claimed their constant +attention, and, with the departure +of the guests, they, too, went off +to pastures new. We would go +down to the carriage to see them +off, Duphot and I. Papa would +kiss me fondly, mamma allow me +to carry out her tiny lapdog to +her, from which she was never +parted for a day. On pretext of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</span> +placing it on her lap, I used to get +into the carriage, put my arms +round her neck, and kiss her as +much as ever I wanted. It may +be imagined if my kisses were +few! Then they would drive +away, mamma waving her dear +hand to me ever so far along the +road. When I could see them +no longer from the courtyard, I +would run to the turret room and +watch at the window until the +carriage appeared like a tiny +speck in the cutting through +which they had to drive to reach +the railway station. Half an hour +later a dense white cloud would +pass along the horizon, slowly to +dissolve in fleecy streaks; and +then I knew: They are gone! +That cloud fading away in the sky +had been emitted by the fiery +engine which was bearing away +from me those I loved best on +earth.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</span></p> + +<p>After such partings I invariably +cried, as I imagined, until far into +the night—in reality until about +ten o’clock; and the following +morning I had already begun to +look forward to our next meeting +in Vienna.</p> + +<p>There I was much better off. +Papa would often come to visit +me in the schoolroom; and +mamma would send for me to the +drawing room to see those friends +who asked for me. Almost daily +we would meet in the Prater, and +that was the acme of delight to +me. Mamma was always so +pleased to see me—especially if I +were prettily dressed. I got to +know that she liked me best in +my gray velvet pelisse trimmed +with fur; and whenever my good +Duphot took it into her head to +have me dressed in anything else, +I was like a little fury.</p> + +<p>One day in spring—I shall<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</span> +never forget it; it happened to be +my birthday, and I was ten years +old—a very warm day. I had +insisted on being dressed in my +fur pelisse, much against Mme. +Duphot’s better judgment. I +was so hot in it I thought I +should melt, what with delight +and the temperature!</p> + +<p>I was playing in one of the +copses with some of my little +friends near the walk, looking out +the while for mamma, and thinking +only of her. At length I saw +her coming down the avenue with +a party of ladies and gentlemen, +and, pointing her out to my little +friends, said proudly:</p> + +<p>“There; that is my mamma—the +tallest, most beautiful of all +mammas!”</p> + +<p>The children looked up eagerly, +and one little precocious creature, +with whom I often used to fight, +exclaimed:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</span></p> + +<p>“Yes, she might be if she were +not so old. My mamma says +that yours is old, and already has +a lot of wrinkles round her eyes.”</p> + +<p>To hear this speech, fling myself +upon her, and give her a slap, +was with me the work of a second. +Of course she struck back, and it +became a free fight. Our governesses +in vain tried to part us; +all they got for their pains was a +stray blow from one or the other, +intended for the adversary. Suddenly +I heard mamma’s voice calling +me, and, forgetful of rage, +scrimmage, and the enemy, I +rushed off into the walk, with +arms outstretched, toward her.</p> + +<p>Repelling me with a look which +rooted me to the spot, she exclaimed:</p> + +<p>“<i lang="fr">Comme vous voilà faite!</i>”</p> + +<p>And for the first time in my life +I saw mamma angry. Turning to +Mme. Duphot, who was courtesying<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</span> +to the ground, she haughtily +inquired why I was not wearing +my spring costume; and as she +passed on we caught the words, +“Really, these governesses are +insupportable.” And I—I could +have wept for pity over my poor +Duphot, and for shame over myself; +wept—but sparks of fire, like +Shakspere’s Queen, of whom, by +the by, I knew nothing in those +days.</p> + +<p>For three whole days we did +not dare present ourselves in the +Prater.</p> + +<p>So I grew up.</p> + +<p>Year by year my parents prolonged +their stay at Trostburg, +until they have got to spend the +whole of the summer there. My +dear mother’s life is now passed in +good works. She treats the sick +folk of the village homeopathically, +and has already effected +some marvelous cures among<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</span> +them. She has founded a <i lang="fr">crèche</i>, +and a house of correction, where +the lazy are to be made to work, +and the ne’er-do-wells to be kept +under stern discipline. Nothing +could be more practical; the pity +is that one cannot force the people +to go into it; and, left to their +own choice, they prefer to stay +away.</p> + +<p>My Duphot is in her element.</p> + +<p>She accompanies mamma twice +daily to church, reads religious +books aloud to her, and prepares +homeopathic dilutions.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile I am papa’s companion—and +he is such a dear! +We take long rides together. At +first we used to follow the hounds, +and he was delighted when I shot +a hare—more delighted than I +was. As far as I am concerned, +hares might have free lease of +their lives to the detriment of any +number of plantations and cabbages.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</span> +Last autumn something +happened that forever put me out +of conceit with hunting. The +preserves were to be thinned, and +some of the chamois to be shot. +Papa, who had to leave home on a +short absence, entrusted the commission +to me, thinking I should +thoroughly enjoy the task, and I +had not the courage to tell him +that it would be anything but an +enjoyable one to me.</p> + +<p>So, accompanied by the head +ranger and my good gun, I sallied +forth one afternoon into the +peaceful shade and green depths +of the deer park. Along the +moss-grown path, whence I had +so often heard the rustle of the +herds going down to water, we +came to the pond, skirted it, and +saw, through a break on the other +side, a young chamois just emerging +from the wood on the slope. +Stretching her slender neck, she<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</span> +snuffed the air and came slowly +forward.</p> + +<p>“That’s what we want, the +female,” whispered the ranger. +“Take steady aim—fire!”</p> + +<p>His lips trembled with eagerness, +his old gray eyes looked +mistrustfully at me. As for me, +an ice-cold thrill ran through me +as, raising my gun in feverish +haste and nervously pulling the +trigger, I was only conscious of +having taken aim. There was a +report. “A dead hit!” exclaimed +the ranger triumphantly, and ran +forward. I slowly followed, my +heart beating so loudly I could +not run.</p> + +<p>“Shot in the heart!” cried the +old forester from afar. “A crack +shot! Could not have been +better.”</p> + +<p>Intoxicated at my success he +wildly waved his hat, then begged +mine that he might stick a pine<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</span> +twig in it. While thus engaged, +and I standing there gazing with +wide-open eyes at the pretty +young creature lying prone, its +graceful head thrown back, there +appeared on the verge of the +wood a tiny kid.</p> + +<p>“Good Heavens, Bayer!” I exclaimed. +And looking up, the +ranger cried:</p> + +<p>“My word! had she got a little +one! If I had only known it!”</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the young one came +confidingly and fearlessly up to +us. Surely if mother could lie so +quietly on the grass by those +people they would do it no harm, +it thought, and began pushing its +mother with its moist shining +nose, and then quietly to drink in +its last nourishment from the +accustomed source; and when no +more would come, not one drop, +left off trying, and stood up looking +inquiringly at its mother and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</span> +at us, looking as innocently as only +an animal can look.</p> + +<p>The ranger, taking it up in his +arms, carried it home. It had the +warmest corner in the pine plantation +given to it; a little hut was +built for it, with a soft bed of moss +and hay. I have spent whole +days by it. Never in all my life +did I desire anything so ardently +as that it should grow used to me +and not be afraid of me. But +trustful in freedom, timid and full +of mistrust in confinement, it +never grew used to me, never lost +its dread of me—it died.</p> + +<p>When my dear father came +home I told him I never would +go shooting again. He laughed; +and in my excitement I cried:</p> + +<p>“You ought not to desire it of +me. If ever I married, and had a +daughter who took pleasure in +shooting any living creature, I +should be utterly miserable.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</span></p> + +<p>“Don’t talk such nonsense. +You have grown quite idiotic, +child. And,” he continued entreatingly, +“and, above all, do +talk in English.”</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Now I am going to tell of my +dear father. To describe him so +accurately as that all who read +these memoirs should seem to +have his living presentment before +them is beyond my power; I will +only endeavor to portray him as +he is, and, especially, as he is to +me. He really often has occasion +to find fault with me. I am either +too noisy and too merry, or else +too much in my own room reading. +He says a learned woman +is the greatest of all calamities. +He looks upon learning as an +importunate being ever ready to +spring upon one unawares, on +one’s making it the slightest advance. +In vain do I try to comfort<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</span> +him with the assurance that +I might <a id="tn-64">know of the</a> whole contents +of my library by heart, and +yet not have any pretensions to +be a bluestocking.</p> + +<p>“Heaven grant it!” is his answer. +“A woman’s head should +be in her heart. From her heart +and disposition should come all +her understanding.” He has said +this so often to me, that I yesterday +ventured to raise an +objection.</p> + +<p>“You tell me it must come; +but it does not. There are things +which even a woman cannot +fathom from the mere depths of +her temperament. So Baron +Schwarzburg von Livland said +lately; and I have not the least +idea what he means, and my heart +certainly has not told me.”</p> + +<p>But I am anticipating events.</p> + +<p>There is not a single handsome +book in my library that papa himself<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</span> +has not given me; he, who is +always inveighing against love of +books. Handsome, I mean here, +more with regard to exterior than +to interior. But happy for me +that there are handsome editions +of books with irresistible illustrations. +Happy for me that you +have lived and sketched, Gustave +Doré! To you I owe the pearl +of my collection; to you is it due +that my beloved father has grown +almost into a bookworm—as +much a bookworm, that is, as I +can be called a bluestocking. +The noble knight of La Mancha +it was that conquered him. At +first it was the illustrations which +captivated him, and on their +account I acquired the book. +The unimportant text, though +not even English, was, as it were, +thrown in with the purchase. +What a surprise it was to me! I +had thanked him profusely for a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</span> +picture book, and what a treasure +had come into my possession! I +could not keep my rapture in it +for myself, and day by day as I +read, I told the story to my +father, and day by day his interest +in Dulcinea’s knight grew +warmer.</p> + +<p>“What has the donkey been +doing to-day?” he would ask, and +for a while I suffered it to be “the +donkey.” Not for long, though. +Soon I laughed no longer; rather +melted with sympathy, burned +with admiration. I grew to love +the man ever deceived, but ever +believing; the knight so often +worsted, but never vanquished; +and declared to my father that I +desired no better fortune than to +meet with such a Don Quixote in +real life, and become his wife. +Then papa began to think I was +getting too excited over it, and +it would be well to change the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</span> +course of my studies. And from +that time he took to overlooking +my reading, and got to do what +he had never done before—to +read. And it would have been +impossible to see anything more +beautiful than the expression of +devotion and absorption in his +noble Wallenstein-like countenance, +in every fold of the fine +brow, when thus engaged. +Sometimes he heaves a deep sigh, +and twists one side of his mustache +so furiously that the point +is all awry, his eyes get fixed, the +eyelids red with the unwonted +application. Then I can stand it +no longer; I jump up, go to him, +and giving him a light kiss on the +shoulder, so light that he can +pretend he does not perceive it, +say:</p> + +<p>“Shall we go for a walk, papa? +I am quite stiff with sitting.”</p> + +<p>“Upon my word, so am I,” he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</span> +says, and it does me good to see +how he straightens himself and +draws in a free breath. But he +does not immediately carry out +my suggestion; the book-marker +must first be deliberately placed +in the page.</p> + +<p>“So far”; he takes the perused +pages between the palms of his +hands. “Will it be too little for +you?”</p> + +<p>And I, unthinking, ungrateful +as I can be, have so often +thoughtlessly made reply, “Oh, +much too little; why, it is hardly +anything. You must let me read +on further, papa.”</p> + +<p>Closing the book, he slowly +shakes his head, looks at me, considers +a little, looks at me again, +and then follows: “Do whatever +you like!”</p> + +<p>And I, before he can defend +himself, rush into his arms.</p> + +<p>“No, no, only what <em>thou likest</em>,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</span> +not what <em>I like</em>, shall be done, +now and always.”</p> + +<p>“You might just as well +have said that in English,” he +answers.</p> + +<p>“Oh, you dear good father of +mine!”</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Last year my sister, for the +first time since her marriage, +passed the winter in Vienna. +Report said that her husband on +the wedding journey had informed +her that she should not +set foot in the capital again until +he had cured her of her “countess” +ways.</p> + +<p>He is a tall, cold, haughty man, +who barely vouchsafes to utter +twenty words in a day, even when +most loquacious. It is difficult to +know what his tastes are. The +sole interests he seems to have +are his palace, his equipages, his +servants’ liveries, and his wife’s<span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</span> +toilets; and that merely to show +them off. She makes merry over +it, and sometimes says very witty +things about it; but I think she +would do better if she were to say +them to his face instead of behind +his back. She has no children, to +my sorrow; I should so love to be +an aunt. It was decided that I +was to come out at one of the +balls my sister was to give in the +course of the season. I had +already been to several soirées +the previous winter with papa +during Lent; thus had a tolerably +extended acquaintance with society +folk, and had been mostly +struck by the dead level of quality +when taken in the quantity. +At seventeen one begins to exercise +one’s thinking powers, and +my reflection had been: If one +could disembody the souls of all +these fine people and let them go +free (the men especially), it would<span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</span> +be a sheer impossibility to distinguish +one from the other.</p> + +<p>Their conversation was simply +comical. I could tell off on my +fingers the set questions: “Are +you coming out next Carnival?” +“Are you fond of dancing?” so +often had they been put to me; +and not a man among them had +appeared to me to be one whit +different from the crowd of others.</p> + +<p>One morning I was informed +that papa and mamma desired to +see me in the small drawing room—style: +Empire, white and gold.</p> + +<p>Mamma was sitting upon the +sofa, knitting woolen comforters +for the Reformatory. With a +dainty little white lace cap upon +her head, and her white India +cashmere morning dress, she +looked like a queen or a saint. +Papa was sitting beside her in an +armchair, very erect and agitated, +as could be easily seen from the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</span> +blinking of his eyes, a trick he had +when much moved. My Duphot, +in her boundless diffidence, had +chosen for her seat the smallest +possible tabouret with the most +slender of legs, and the effect of +her corpulent person upon its +ethereal support was killing.</p> + +<p>“Will you be pleased to be +seated?” my father asked, with +forced gayety, and I took a chair +as close as possible to my Duphot, +so as to be at hand to lend my aid +in the event of a catastrophe.</p> + +<p>The faces of my parents grew +more and more solemn. A sudden +feeling of dread came over +me, and I began to examine my +conscience if perchance——It +was clear, thank Heaven, else I +should have felt very miserable.</p> + +<p>My father looked expectantly +at my mother.</p> + +<p>“Caroline, will you have the +kindness?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</span></p> + +<p>“I thought that you meant +to——” returned my mother.</p> + +<p>“Oh, no, I beg you——” said +he. And with an effort, and +dropping her hands upon the +comforter, my mother began:</p> + +<p>“Paula, you are now grown up; +nearly eighteen——”</p> + +<p>“And look as if you were +twenty,” added my father; to +which my Duphot, making assent, +becomes scarlet, and totters upon +her treacherous seat.</p> + +<p>My mother continues: “Next +year, dear child, you are to go +out into the great world.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes; I am so glad, dear +mamma.”</p> + +<p>“You are glad because you do +not know how poor and worthless +are the pleasures which await you +there, and how dearly bought.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes,” put in papa, “and +one should ask one’s self <i lang="la">cui bono</i>, +what is the aim of it all?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</span></p> + +<p>Mamma took up the argument. +“None other than that of self-examination, +and to enable one to +arrive at the conclusion, <i lang="fr">que le jeu +ne vaut pas la chandelle</i>. Everyone +plays at the game for a time, +my dear Paula, because it is the +correct thing to do.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, and because it is amusing, +mamma, and because one is young +and loves gayety and dancing!”</p> + +<p>She assented.</p> + +<p>“But thinking persons cannot +hide from themselves the consciousness +of the hollowness of it +all, and then they turn to the +realities of life, often bitterly to +repent of their wasted years. +Now my question to you is: +Were it not wiser to save yourself +these wasted years, and to begin +at once with the realities of life?”</p> + +<p>“It is but a question,” interposed +my father, in a tone of +deepest affection, and I read in his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</span> +words the silent refrain, “Do +whatever you like.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, certainly, it is but a +question,” assented mamma.</p> + +<p>And my Duphot echoed, “<i lang="fr">Une +question</i>,” while drops of perspiration +stood out upon her forehead. +Her trouble and agitation overcame +me. I thought, “Great +Heavens! what can they be meaning +to do with me?” And seized +with a sudden dread, I cried:</p> + +<p>“Am I to go into a convent?”</p> + +<p>Mamma smiled; papa laughed; +Mme. Duphot blurted out: +“<i lang="fr">Tout au contraire!</i>”</p> + +<p>I grew still more agitated. +Suddenly it flashed across me. +“Then I am going to be married!”</p> + +<p>Papa patted me kindly on the +shoulder. “You must surely +have observed that one of the +gentlemen introduced to you at +your sister’s house has been paying +you marked attention?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</span></p> + +<p>“No, papa. I assure you I +have not.”</p> + +<p>“But he has conversed with you +every evening; the last time he +remained a full half hour in conversation +with you.”</p> + +<p>“Who is it?”</p> + +<p>“Count Taxen.”</p> + +<p>“A tall, dark man?”</p> + +<p>“No, a fair young man, of +middle height.”</p> + +<p>At length I remembered. Of +course, a fair young man, of +middle height, had often come up +to talk to me. About what? +Had I been placed on the rack I +could not have told, so completely +had the subject of our +various talks vanished from my +memory.</p> + +<p>Papa and mamma now imparted +to me that he was an exceptionally +delightful young man, the +darling of his mother, who had +never allowed him to be separated<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</span> +from her, and had brought him up +with the strictest principles. My +parents actually vied with each +other in singing the count’s +praises, and Mme. Duphot, with +tears of emotion, exclaimed enthusiastically:</p> + +<p>“<i lang="fr">Quel bonheur, mon enfant!</i>”</p> + +<p>The gate bell struck twice.</p> + +<p>“They are coming,” said my +mother; and my father gave, oh, +such a loving look at me! I cannot +describe it other, even had it +been enveloped in ever so tyrannical +a “You shall, you must!” +than the old gentle, heart-stirring, +tender, “Do whatever you like.” +And my oppressed heart beat +freely once more, my downcast +courage revived; I even felt an +irresistible longing to laugh; +while Mme. Duphot, who had +made a precipitate movement to +rise from her tabouret—it had +really belonged to Josephine’s<span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</span> +<i lang="fr">salon</i>—fell back upon it, and I +said:</p> + +<p>“Do take care; or you will go +to pieces like the French Empire.”</p> + +<p>“Child, child!” remonstrated +my mother.</p> + +<p>“And now, whatever you do, +no display of bluestockingism,” +added my father hurriedly, as the +door was thrown open and the +Countess Taxen and her son were +announced.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>And from that day forth they +appeared regularly twice a week +at three o’clock, to make their +afternoon call; and, moreover, +every Saturday I met the count +at my sister’s. My parents treated +him with marked attention. +Mme. Duphot designated him +“<i lang="fr">un jeune homme accompli</i>.” +Even my brother-in-law, whom I +had never seen unbend before, did +so to him. The countess never<span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</span> +failed to tell me, in her conversations +with me, that her son had +never caused her an uneasy hour, +and that she was to be esteemed +the happiest of mothers. I should +have gone contrary to the wishes +of my dear ones, and of those +whose opinion I valued, had I +found the least objection to the +state of things; and yet, withal, I +felt the strongest inclination to +do so, though without knowing +why.</p> + +<p>No formal proposal had been +made. I was only told that the +count was attracted by me; and +that, through his mother, he had +begged permission to become +more nearly acquainted with me. +It must, however, in his estimation, +have been of far greater +importance that I should know +him than that he should know +me, for his whole conversation +was about himself, his mode of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</span> +life, his habits, and tastes. He +seemed especially to like to dilate +upon his love of order, and the +punctuality he exacted from his +<i lang="fr">entourage</i>. He graphically described +to us his old historic +castle, the arrangements of the +apartments, the decorations of its +halls and corridors. We heard +less of the country where his +estates were situated; of the people +living about, not one word.</p> + +<p>“And what about the neighborhood?” +my sister asked one day. +And Bernhard, my brother, home +on leave, exclaimed:</p> + +<p>“Bruno Schwarzburg must have +lived somewhere in your vicinity +before his troubles.”</p> + +<p>Thus, on April 13, 1882, for the +first time I heard the name afterward +to be so dear to me. They +began talking and laughing about +him as a half-mad man, Bernhard +constantly putting in, good-naturedly,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</span> +“After all, he is a fine +fellow!”</p> + +<p>“Yes, with a bee in his bonnet,” +returned the count. “He will +never make his fortune, as I have +often told him, even at the time +he was doing the craziest thing of +all and entering an action against +himself.”</p> + +<p>“How could he do that?” I +asked. “How can anyone enter +an action against himself?”</p> + +<p>“Ah, how can one!” replied the +count; “I don’t understand it, +nor would any other man with a +grain of common sense in his +composition. His father, who +left a heap of debts behind him, +had had the foresight just before +his death to hand over to his son, +by deed of gift, the indisputable +possession of a small capital. The +father dead, the creditors seized +upon everything—a set of miserable +money-lenders, for the most<span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</span> +part, who had been paid over and +over again during the old baron’s +lifetime. But one widow woman +with five children——”</p> + +<p>“Excuse me,” interrupted +Bernhard, “one daughter, a blind +girl.”</p> + +<p>The count, who does not like +to have his statements questioned, +here said impatiently:</p> + +<p>“My dear fellow, what does it +matter? So this widow came off +badly,” he resumed, turning to +me. “‘Nothing is left,’ she was +told when she presented her claim. +‘What do you mean—there is my +money,’ says Bruno. ‘The creditors +have no claim upon that,’ +explains the lawyer, who was +also Schwarzburg’s trustee. His +father, I must explain, had taken +the precaution to appoint a +trustee, as Master Bruno had +already shown signs of emulating +his progenitor in the matter of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</span> +squandering. So now he insists +upon paying the widow’s claim; +the trustee objects, and the upshot +of it was a trial, in which +Schwarzburg appeared as plaintiff +against himself, and which he won +by losing the little property he +had.”</p> + +<p>The laughter was general, and +more things were told about the +man whom they all seemed to +look upon as an original.</p> + +<p>But I thought to myself, all his +mad pranks—and many were told +of all kinds and descriptions—seem +always to agree in two +points; there is invariably a noble +motive at the bottom of them, +and he invariably comes off worst +in them. So I remarked:</p> + +<p>“This baron certainly seems to +do any number of foolish things, +but luck is very unkind to +him.”</p> + +<p>“That I cannot see,” returned<span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</span> +the count; and I had already +learned to know that those words, +with him, meant, If I do not see a +thing, it does not exist. “If I +choose to do idiotic things, I have +no right to call myself unlucky +because I find myself on the +wrong side of the hedge. Moreover, +what people are so ready to +call want of luck is, more often +than not, want of sense. A common-sense +man is rarely unlucky.”</p> + +<p>Here Bernhard murmured half +aloud, “Sickness, death, tempest.”</p> + +<p>Again the irritation with which +the count greets the most modest +expression of opinion became +evident—an irritation he seems +incapable of checking—as he dryly +observed:</p> + +<p>“I insure against tempest.”</p> + +<p>I felt a sudden exasperation +against this child of fortune, who +seemed so disposed to take to +himself as individual merit the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</span> +lavish gifts of Providence, and I +rejoined:</p> + +<p>“Had you had such a father as +that of Baron Schwarzburg, who +squandered away all the family +property, you would have been +unable to exercise that wise foresight, +for you would have nothing +left to you worth insuring.”</p> + +<p>His mother crimsoned; my +parents exchanged a concerned +look, and I felt more than ever +alarmed at my own temerity. +The greatest of heroes experience +a reflex fear, we are told; but +there was nothing of the hero in +me at that moment, only a rush +of feelings of shame, embarrassment, +and dread; and these +wretched feelings rose like smoke, +so to speak, from a still darker +background—the knowledge that +I had offended the count!</p> + +<p>He gave vent to a few disconnected +phrases, intended to be<span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</span> +severe and cutting, but which +were only savage and peevish. It +was not the first time that I had +made a mental note that the +exalted and noble diffidence, so +highly vaunted by my parents, +was in inseparable connection +with the flattery and deference +accorded to him. The slightest +expression of censure changed it +at once into arrogance, and, without +an attempt at justifying his +opinion, he would angrily reject +any comment as absurd, contemptible, +and unworthy of +notice.</p> + +<p>After he had taken his leave, +my parents began to reproach me +severely.</p> + +<p>“You behaved shockingly. +You seem to have no idea of the +honor conferred upon you by the +count’s attentions. Such a man—such +a son!”</p> + +<p>“Who never caused his mother<span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</span> +a single uneasy hour,” I meekly +added.</p> + +<p>“You are aware of that, and +yet do not cherish the highest +esteem for him?”</p> + +<p>“Of course I esteem what is +estimable in him.”</p> + +<p>“Then pray show it in your +manner and bearing. You acknowledge +that you esteem the +count, and have every reason so +to do, then why conceal the sentiment?” +said mamma. “I entreat +you, dear child, to let your +esteem for him be made more +evident.”</p> + +<p>She glanced meaningly at papa, +and now he began begging me to +show my esteem for the count +more openly; asking how it was +that I, so pleasant and amiable to +people in general, should observe +such a cold and distant manner to +this admirable young man.</p> + +<p>Alas, I could give him no answer.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</span> +It was a question I had +too often vainly asked myself. +The trivial faults which struck me +in the count were as nothing +compared to the good qualities he +possessed in the eyes of my parents. +And so I promised them +from henceforth to be much more +courteous and attentive to him +than I had been before. But +even this did not quite satisfy +my dear ones.</p> + +<p>“See, Paula,” said my father +earnestly—and his voice was agitated—“see, +dear child, your +sister’s marriage with Edward has +brought her happiness and placed +her in a brilliant position. No +man could be a more affectionate +husband than he, and so true a +<i lang="fr">grand seigneur</i>. Your brother, +after having caused us much anxiety +by his thoughtlessness, has +settled down into the right way; +and thus we can look forward to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</span> +both their futures with easy +minds. All we desire now is to +be able to feel that your happiness +is insured.”</p> + +<p>“And that we should do,” +began mamma afresh, “if you, +dear child, would receive the +count’s attentions favorably.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” resumed papa, “that +would make us happy and contented.”</p> + +<p>He stretched out his hand to +me; I seized it and kissed it, and +suddenly felt a sharp pain in my +eyes, and as through a quivering +mist saw his dear face become +more and more gentle and tender, +and then the dear voice began:</p> + +<p>“Besides——”</p> + +<p>But the words which usually +followed upon this beginning were +wanting. I waited yearningly—in +vain. They remained unsaid.</p> + +<p>That night, on going to bed, I +prayed more earnestly than ever;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</span> +and yet my prayer was that of +a foolish child. I prayed for +strength to obey my parents +gladly and cheerfully; I ought to +have framed my prayer quite differently—that +I was quickly to +be taught in the immediate +future.</p> + +<p>On the 24th of April, 1882, +one of the most perfect days I +can remember, we were driving +in the open carriage in the Prater, +papa and I.</p> + +<p>The horse-chestnuts were beginning +to blossom, the delicate +green of spring diffusing its halo +all around; that green so tender +and so unspeakably joyous, just +emerging from its winter covering +into the golden sunlight, all unconscious, +as yet, of storm or +scorching heat.</p> + +<p>Our carriage rolled leisurely +along by our Rotten Row. +Friends and acquaintances galloped<span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</span> +or trotted past us; then +three horsemen abreast came +toward us, the count in the middle. +He was riding a handsome +chestnut; man and horse alike +presenting an air of comfortable +self-satisfaction. “The world goes +well with us,” they seemed to be +thinking—if they thought at all. +On the count’s left rode my +brother, looking very handsome +and spick and span in his uniform +of major in the Lancers. To his +right rode a gaunt man on a gaunt +steed. He sat very erect upon his +horse, which seemed as if devoured +by inward fire, so wild and beautiful +were its fine eyes; for the rest +it was a long-legged, bony mare—to +say the least of it, positively +ugly. Nor did its rider please at +first sight. Luckily for him, no +one would be content with merely +a single glance at the striking countenance. +Long and narrow, it<span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</span> +reveals a quite unusual amount of +energy. The dark eyes, the nose +with its dilating nostrils, the +sharply pointed beard, the mustache +twirling high and leaving +the mouth free, reminded me of +the portraits of Spanish noblemen +of the seventeenth century. But +what reminded me of no one, +and could be compared to no one +but himself, was the animated, +sympathetic spirit that sparkled +in his eyes. Gravely bowing, he +retained his hat in his hand long +after the count had resumed his, +thus displaying a noble broad +forehead, surmounted by thick, +waving hair. The brain, I once +read, shapes its own place, and +his had formed an arch for itself. +I know some which are content +to reside under a flat level. The +stranger looked observantly at +me. I felt myself grow red under +his gaze, and touched papa’s arm,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</span> +who was exchanging greetings in +the drive. He turned to me, and, +following my eyes, recognized the +rider.</p> + +<p>“Do you know him?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“Who?”</p> + +<p>“He of La Mancha,” said I, +with a sorry jest, to conceal my +confusion.</p> + +<p>Papa, not noticing it, answered: +“Oh, yes. It is that mad fellow, +Schwarzburg.”</p> + +<p>My presence of mind had +returned, and I ventured to +ask:</p> + +<p>“Tell me more about his foolish +doings.”</p> + +<p>“I know nothing about him,” +said papa.</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, you do. Bernhard is +constantly talking of him.”</p> + +<p>“To make fun of him.”</p> + +<p>“Not always. He really likes +and admires him, and says he has +a great future before him.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</span></p> + +<p>“Then things must greatly +alter.”</p> + +<p>“Not so much, after all, dear +papa—a little turn of fortune’s +wheel; so far he has had nothing +but sorrow since his childhood. +Remember what Bernhard told us +quite lately about him. His +parents separated; his mother +living abroad, and married again; +his father, a spendthrift, caring +nothing for the boy—worse off +than an orphan; ill used at school, +because the payments were so +irregular. And he grows up, +struggling through it all, and, +even as a mere lad, takes a man’s +cares upon himself and sets to +earning his living.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes; but then his Don +Quixotism with his small inheritance, +and his ridiculous love +story.”</p> + +<p>“Love story? That is odd.”</p> + +<p>An unpleasant sensation came<span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</span> +over me, and I thought it strange +that Bernhard had told me nothing +of this love story. After a +while, I asked:</p> + +<p>“Who was he in love with, this +baron?”</p> + +<p>Papa had thought no more of +our conversation, and could not at +first think whom I meant; then +answered abruptly:</p> + +<p>“He can only adore her memory +now. She is dead.”</p> + +<p>“When?”</p> + +<p>“Some years ago, as the wife +of another man, whom she preferred +to him—ingratitude to +fidelity which would have gained +him a name in the Middle Ages, +but which in modern times has +simply made him ridiculous.”</p> + +<p>“I do not understand that. +How can the exercise of any virtue +render anyone ridiculous? +And fidelity is a virtue!”</p> + +<p>Papa gave a slight cough, “If<span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</span> +you ride a virtue to death, it +becomes folly.”</p> + +<p>Wisdom—folly. I hated those +words, so often in the count’s +mouth.</p> + +<p>“Ah, well, papa,” said I, “it +seems to me that there is no need +for any virtue to grow into folly; +it is a folly from the very beginning. +That is why I have so little +regard for wisdom either.”</p> + +<p>“That is very evident,” observed +my father.</p> + +<p>“And why I love the constancy +which, seeking no reward, yet +remains stanch.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed? You do not see how +senseless it is in a man to believe +he is loved by a woman when he +is not? To let himself be fooled +by her? To give no ear when he +is told she does not care a straw +for him? You do not see how +senseless is such conduct? Or, +perhaps, it rather attracts your<span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</span> +admiration because it is such a +piece of utter folly!”</p> + +<p>“But did she really not love +him?”</p> + +<p>“She simply fooled him, I tell +you. And he, poor fool, must +needs be keeping lover’s watch +under her windows, quarreling +with those who saw through the +little game, which cost him more +than one duel.”</p> + +<p>I was delighted.</p> + +<p>“Quite right! I honor him! I +can see it now—can hear how +after the fight, whether conquered +or conqueror, he cries, ‘Dulcinea +del Toboso is the most peerless +lady in all the world, and I am her +true knight!’ Splendid, papa!”</p> + +<p>“My dear child! What rubbish +you talk! But it all comes +from those confounded books, +and I will——But enough of it!”</p> + +<p>These last words were said in +English, and I knew it was high<span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</span> +time to give up a subject when +my dear good father took to +speaking English!</p> + +<p>For some weeks past mamma +had begun to receive again, every +evening after the theater. She +desired to give the count opportunities +of coming more frequently +to our house, without thereby +exciting attention. Fruitless endeavor! +Although his courtship +proceeded so quietly that, thank +Heaven, even I was scarcely aware +of it, my girl friends began teasing +me about him. Most of them, +strange to say, called me a lucky +girl; and one—I will name her +Dora—never failed to add “but +as silly, awfully silly, as she is +lucky!”</p> + +<p>She is older than I am, and is +considered to be very clever and +well read. When quite a little +girl, an aunt, who was a woman +of learning, bequeathed her whole<span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</span> +library to her, and she was allowed +to have it arranged in her own +room; her parents letting her +have her own way in everything. +Thus at thirteen there was she +deep in the study of Humboldt’s +“Cosmos,” and Strauss’ “Life of +Jesus.” She has explained whole +pages of this latter to me, but not +very clearly; I never could understand +it.</p> + +<p>Dora used often to threaten +that, if I did not know how to +value the count better, she would +get him away from me. And I, +only too ready, would reply:</p> + +<p>“Take him, by all means; you +could not please me better.”</p> + +<p>For a long time she thought I +was only joking.</p> + +<p>“Do you know,” she said, “that +the Taxens have a prince’s crown +in their coat of arms?”</p> + +<p>“How could one fail to know +it?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</span></p> + +<p>“And have you not thought +how well your monogram will +look with a crown over it?”</p> + +<p>I burst into a fit of laughter.</p> + +<p>“Is that the result of studying +Humboldt and Strauss at thirteen, +to make you such a baby at +twenty?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, that is quite another thing. +I know what is due to the world. +The greatest men of learning +attach value to position, and +would be only too glad to be admitted +into princely salons, but +as they are so prosy and +pedantic——”</p> + +<p>Indignant at her silly chatter, I +cried:</p> + +<p>“You ought to be ashamed to +talk such rubbish. Pray what +do you know about learned +men: you have never even seen +one!”</p> + +<p>“Nor you, either.”</p> + +<p>“No, nor anyone of us, because<span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</span> +they do not frequent society, nor +have the slightest wish to do so. +But you are talking about what +you do not understand. You +prate about knowledge of the +world, and see no further than +your own little circle. That is all +you think about!”</p> + +<p>She was piqued. She is as +much accustomed to be admired +as the count, and can as little as +he endure to be contradicted.</p> + +<p>Our passage of arms had been +carried on before a room full of +my friends, of both sexes, to their +great delectation. Dora was not +a favorite among her girl friends, +and they chuckled audibly at my +onslaught.</p> + +<p>“You may be as contemptuous +as you please,” said Dora angrily, +but in so low a voice that only I +heard. “You will see the consequences +of having made an enemy +of me,” with a meaning look<span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</span> +toward the door, by which the +count was just then entering.</p> + +<p>I understood her, and answered +in an equally low voice:</p> + +<p>“If you only succeed in what +you mean, you will make me a +friend for life.”</p> + +<p>“Very well, I accept your challenge!” +she responded, little +knowing how I was silently rejoicing +in her determination, and +wishing it all speed.</p> + +<p>The count stood before me; +and it seemed as if with his presence +the atmosphere about me +had become more oppressive, the +light darkened. Dora rising, left +him the chair opposite to me, and +seated herself on the arm of mine. +In her white gauze dress, and +hair so becomingly arranged, she +looked charming, as charming as a +Dresden china figure; and the +contrast between her bewitching +get-up and the conversation<span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</span> +she carried on was irresistibly +funny.</p> + +<p>“I wager,” exclaimed the count, +“that the thermometer is up +to 28°.”</p> + +<p>“If it were 38°,” said she, +“I should not feel it. I am +never warm. I am the marble +guest.”</p> + +<p>With an uninterested look the +count murmured:</p> + +<p>“Yes?”</p> + +<p>“But also, I never feel the +cold.”</p> + +<p>“Ha, ha! You are doing the +original. I am not at all original; +perfectly prosaic.”</p> + +<p>“Oh! I am very prosaic. +Would you believe it? I take +snuff.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed?”</p> + +<p>“I always carry my snuffbox +about with me.”</p> + +<p>“With nothing in it?”</p> + +<p>She produced a tiny gold box,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</span> +no larger than a florin, from her +pocket.</p> + +<p>“There happens to be nothing +in it, just to-day. Look, I have +had a death’s head engraved on +the lid; and I use death’s-head +notepaper. I am always thinking +of death. I believe I shall commit +suicide one day.”</p> + +<p>The count looked aghast.</p> + +<p>“I always carry a dagger about +with me.”</p> + +<p>“Do you really?” said the +count.</p> + +<p>“So that I may plunge it into +my heart the moment that +tobacco, my one friend, has no +more charms for me.”</p> + +<p>He smiled. He began to find +her interesting; and as she now +went on to tell of a curious old +chest which had been discovered +in a lumber room of her castle, +he became thoroughly engrossed. +Seizing an opportunity when they<span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</span> +were absorbed in their conversation, +I rose and stole away. As I +turned, I saw Bernhard standing +by me.</p> + +<p>“I have been looking for you +ever so long,” said he. “One +cannot stir a step in this crush.”</p> + +<p>And looking round, he called:</p> + +<p>“Schwarzburg!”</p> + +<p>And I, surprised and so delighted, +as though it had been +some dear, impatiently looked-for +friend, exclaimed:</p> + +<p>“Is he here?”</p> + +<p>Now, be it said, Bernhard +scolded me afterward, quite +roundly, for my “Is he here?” +But I have never been able to +repent it. As I said it, I looked +into a pair of eyes radiant with +bliss, far too great for me ever to +repent the words which called it +forth.</p> + +<p>Baron Schwarzburg bowed so +low before me, that the reverence<span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</span> +thus expressed in his salutation +almost abashed me. What had I +done to arouse reverence?</p> + +<p>We had a long talk together, +much too long, I was afterward +told reproachfully. I cannot say +what it was about; I was unconscious +of the lapse of time, and of +the presence of others. He was +talking to me, and all that he said +and his manner of saying it was +pleasant to me, and worth listening +to; seemed better and wiser +than anything I had ever heard +before, at once dear and true.</p> + +<p>When, looking back to that +evening, I ask myself the question: +Was that when we first +made acquaintance? I answer, +No. We did not need it; we +greeted each other as friends of +long standing; our first meeting +was as a coming together after +separation.</p> + +<p>Our conversation was interrupted<span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</span> +by papa. He wanted to +consult with the baron concerning +some matters connected with his +estate, and Bernhard had told him +that he could not do better than +put them into his hands. Both +gentlemen engaged in earnest +conversation; and at its close I +saw them shake hands, and felt +quite elated. So the fool of a +Schwarzburg could talk sensibly +for once—his advice could even +be of use!</p> + +<p>The soirée was over. Most of +the guests had left. Among the +last to go were Dora and her people, +and the count and his mother. +The <i lang="fr">comtesse douairière</i>, as my +Duphot called her, was especially +amiable to me on saying good-night.</p> + +<p>“You are so sweet, dear child, I +quite admired you. How charming +you were this evening toward +that poor baron, the <i lang="fr">attaché</i> fellow!<span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</span> +But do not forget that +there may be a danger of your +good nature being misunderstood. +That class of person does not +always know how to accept our +notice, and is often made uncomfortable +by our desire to make +them feel <i lang="fr">à leur aise</i> in our +society.”</p> + +<p>I hardly knew what to make of +this comment; whether to take it +as one of praise or blame.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>I will not attempt to describe +my simple love story at length. +That my parents would consent +to my marriage with Baron +Schwarzburg, the “<i lang="fr">attaché</i> fellow,” +I did not for a moment believe. +The consciousness of my love for +him and of its hopelessness revealed +themselves simultaneously +to me; and it would have been a +grave wrong in me had I given +myself up to the former. But I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</span> +had not given myself up to it; it +had taken hold of me before I was +aware, and from the first moment +I was as completely under its +sway as I am to this day. It was +the same with him. His affection +for me came as suddenly as did +my great love for him. It was +only his perfect absence of vanity +which for a long time made him +think it impossible that he could +inspire me with any warmer feelings +than those of friendship. +But even that seemed to make +him supremely happy; and as for +me—a new life had unfolded to +me since he had taken me into his +confidence, and since I had learned +to know the workings of his noble, +unselfish heart. He had met almost +on every side with injustice, +and yet he always held that Right +must conquer. He had endured +countless bitternesses, yet had +come through them without one<span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</span> +taint of bitterness. Truly with +such a fund of love and strength +in his own heart, how should he +believe in anything but goodness?</p> + +<p>The wonderful thing to me is +that his own estimate of himself +should be so different from what +he really is. He affirms the +motive of the greater part of his +actions, and the source of all his +strength, to have been self-will. +The other day when he was repeating +this to me, I asked:</p> + +<p>“And was it mere act of self-will +that led you, as a young barrister, +to enter that action against yourself?”</p> + +<p>He replied, with a frown, “Is +that old story not yet forgotten?”</p> + +<p>“Not yet.”</p> + +<p>“Then allow me to give you the +true reading of it. It was undertaken +in no ridiculous spirit of +self-sacrifice, but in order to defend +my integrity against my<span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</span> +money; a thing of priceless worth +against that which has a marketable +value. My client was the +widow of an estimable man and +faithful old servant; the money +in question his savings honestly +earned. How many years back +the sum had been in all confidence +intrusted to his master’s keeping, +the wife did not know. She only +knew that his master had repeatedly +assured him that the money +had been invested in a thoroughly +sound mortgage. What the +mortgage was her husband had +no idea, and as the widow of the +baron’s most faithful and devoted +servant it would never have +occurred to her to ask if her +money was safely invested, or in +what. All very well, the lawyer +said, but why was the woman so +stupid? Could she not see what +was going on, and how the baron +was making ducks and drakes of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</span> +his property? She had seen it all, +but trusted to her lord’s word +more than to the evidence of her +senses. And for that implicit +trust, was she to be made the +victim, and was her master’s son +to consent to such plunder? +Could he? What is your opinion, +countess; how would you have +acted in his place?”</p> + +<p>My answer was, “As you did.”</p> + +<p>“And would that have been +anything extraordinary?”</p> + +<p>“No; only what was right.”</p> + +<p>“Thank God!” he exclaimed, +while a great peaceful joy illumined +his countenance; “only +what was right. Yes, that is +it.”</p> + +<p>He looked radiant.</p> + +<p>“Why thank God?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“Because I have been permitted +to justify myself to you.”</p> + +<p>“You justify yourself—to me!” +I said in some confusion.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</span></p> + +<p>“And because you made it so +easy to me, and because you have +such a clear insight into things, +and such an upright mind. +Above all, that you concede that +we only do what is right, even +must we defend that right doing +to our own loss.”</p> + +<p>“But is not that natural?”</p> + +<p>“No, egotism is natural. And +the world just now prizes it +highly. Take up any newspaper, +and you will read any number of +articles in favor of it and its ally, +‘healthy realism.’ In this age of +humanitarianism—strange anomaly—we +find idealism arraigned, +and every kind of unusual display +of self-denial, that groundwork +and absolute necessity of humanitarianism, +stigmatized as sickly +and sentimental.”</p> + +<p>Here the count, my sister, and +Dora came up to us.</p> + +<p>“Aha, here is the baron laying<span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</span> +down the law!” exclaimed the +count.</p> + +<p>And Schwarzburg, looking dismayed, +turned apologetically to +me, saying:</p> + +<p>“Is it true—was I really laying +down the law?”</p> + +<p>“It is rather a habit of yours,” +interposed the count, assuming +the cold haughty manner of people +in society, to those not so +highly privileged, and that to me +is so narrow and petty.</p> + +<p>“You were certainly not laying +down the law,” I cried; “on the +contrary, you were telling me +something of great interest.”</p> + +<p>“A secret?” giggled Dora.</p> + +<p>“Certainly not.”</p> + +<p>“Then pray impart your interesting +story to us, especially if it +is not too long. But I fear it is +long—as long-winded as it is +interesting. I have been watching +you at a distance. You are<span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</span> +always so vastly entertaining, you +two.”</p> + +<p>My cheek crimsoned, and Baron +Schwarzburg leveled a look at +Dora which spoiled all inclination +to pursue her ill-bred jesting +further. But it had done its +work, and bore ill consequences +for me. Count Taxen did not stir +from my side the remainder of the +evening; and we carried on a melancholy +duologue anent ancient +castellated halls and old armor! +“A mold and mildew type of conversation,” +as Elizabeth calls it, +when her husband, who is uncommonly +like the count in essentials, +begins one of his interminable +talks with her on that theme. I +saw her look across at me several +times with unconcealed commiseration.</p> + +<p>The next day she came to +talk over matters with me. It +was early in the afternoon, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</span> +I had just gone up to my +room after luncheon, when she +came in.</p> + +<p>She began taking off her bonnet +and arranging a refractory lock +displaced by the wind, apparently +very intent on so doing; but I +could see very plainly that her +thoughts were no wise occupied +by the lovely, intellectual looking +face reflected in the looking-glass. +Suddenly she began:</p> + +<p>“Tell me, child, what are you +meaning by this Schwarzburg +worship of yours?”</p> + +<p>Her unexpected question took +me by surprise, and I answered in +a low voice:</p> + +<p>“What can I mean?”</p> + +<p>“That is what I want to know. +I want to know what you are +thinking, what dreams you are +allowing yourself to indulge in! +Do you know that for some time +past you are quite altered?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</span></p> + +<p>I felt myself growing more and +more downhearted.</p> + +<p>“How altered, Elizabeth?”</p> + +<p>“Oh,” she said, “do not let us +waste time in fencing. The manner +in which you distinguish +Schwarzburg is the subject of +general remark. You make your +almost veneration of him so +ostentatiously apparent.”</p> + +<p>“I do not make it ostentatiously +apparent; I only do not conceal +it.”</p> + +<p>“And what is it to lead +to?”</p> + +<p>“It will lead to nothing,” I answered +dejectedly. “In a few +weeks he goes to Bosnia; and I +to Trostburg.”</p> + +<p>Shrugging her shoulders, she +made a few steps forward, then +sat down on the chair before my +writing table. The volume with +“My Memoirs” written large upon +it attracted her attention; her<span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</span> +face relaxed its grave expression, +and she began to laugh.</p> + +<p>“So the child has taken to writing +her ‘Memoirs’; here are all +the secrets—one need only to +look in and find them all laid +bare. Do not look so frightened. +I am curious, but not indiscreet.”</p> + +<p>While her words were sarcastic, +her great blue eyes were so sincere, +were looking at me with +such a depth of love and sympathy, +that, taking courage, I +went up to her and said:</p> + +<p>“You asked me what I want. +I will confess to you what I do +not want; I will not marry Count +Taxen.”</p> + +<p>“Bravo, that is good,” she +answered phlegmatically. “And +what about the count, who purposes +either to-day or to-morrow +to make formal proposal for your +hand?”</p> + +<p>In deadly fear, I cried:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</span></p> + +<p>“How do you know this?”</p> + +<p>“From himself.”</p> + +<p>“And does he not see how +utterly indifferent he is to me?”</p> + +<p>“No. That would be the last +thing he would be likely to +see.”</p> + +<p>“And how much more, how +unspeakably more, I prefer another +to him?”</p> + +<p>“That still less. A Count +Taxen simply considers it an +impossibility that a Baron +Schwarzburg should be preferred +before him.”</p> + +<p>“And Dora, who is a thousand +times better suited to him, and +who promised me that she would +make capture of him—Dora, on +whom I have set my hopes—why +is she not as good as her word?”</p> + +<p>“Because she cannot, sweet +Simplicity. Because she has done +all in her power, but in vain. +She is not to the count’s taste.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</span> +He scents the egoist in her, and is +too utterly the egoist himself not +to avoid his duplicate.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, what can I do, Elizabeth! +what can I do? If I have to +marry the count I shall die of +despair.”</p> + +<p>She threw her arms round me, +and drew me down to her, and I +laid my cheek upon her wavy +hair.</p> + +<p>“Do you really think so?” she +asked. “I believe you might +manage to be not so desperately +unhappy with him. Only you +need to be a little wise, my pet; +do not go against him in little +things, and you would soon find +that you had your own way in +more important ones. You would +have to be very careful not to hurt +his vanity, and where possible to +sing his praises to him.”</p> + +<p>“What, flatter him!” I cried, +“praise what I do not approve!<span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</span> +Flattery! oh, the shame and +disgrace of it!”</p> + +<p>“Do not give it such high-sounding +names,” said she. “To +be a bad wife is the only shame +and disgrace to a woman. In +comparison with that, any self-imposed +humiliation weighs but +lightly in the scale. And after +all, it is but a case of weighing +one evil against another, a compromise +with the enemy, otherwise +called the ills of life. Perfect +happiness, cloudless, whose lot is +it? Who even may indulge an +unbroken dream of it?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, were it only a matter of a +dream, I should soon be in possession +of it.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed! Then trust me, and +put your dream into words.”</p> + +<p>“Dare I? May I?”</p> + +<p>“You must.”</p> + +<p>“Do not forget that it is only a +dream.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</span></p> + +<p>“Well—begin.”</p> + +<p>“I should dream that I was his—you +know whom I mean—and +had no more ardent wish than to +make life, hitherto so hard to him, +sweet and beautiful. At his side +I would grow wise, and clever, +and better day by day. Every +breath I drew would be a song +of praise to him. Did, however, +so strange a thing happen that he +could ever do anything my conscience +did not approve, I would +tell it him, frankly, freely. I +would shrink from no pain; for +he would be there to bear it with +me, and its burden would be +lightened. What pain could +come to me, so long as I was his, +and his love mine?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Elizabeth, in a low, +stifled voice; “yes.”</p> + +<p>“That is what my dream is like—the +purest bliss. But the reality +is horror—horror, Elizabeth!<span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</span> +You have utterly crushed me. +That miserable compromise; that +mean-spirited subjection in order +to preserve the outward appearance +of unity while hiding the +inward disunion—I could not do +it. And you——”</p> + +<p>A horrible thought had flashed +across me; I bent down and +looked into her face; it was +bathed in tears. “Can you do it, +my darling?” I said, sinking on +my knees, and embracing her.</p> + +<p>She pressed me convulsively, +and agonizing sobs shook her +breast, as she answered:</p> + +<p>“I have learned to do it!”</p> + +<p>For a time we preserved deep +silence. When at length I raised +my eyes to her dear face, it wore +its accustomed look of composure.</p> + +<p>She rose.</p> + +<p>“Come with me to our parents, +child,” she said. “I cannot help +you to the realization of your<span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</span> +dream; but you shall not be +sacrificed.”</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Mamma was sitting in the corner +of the sofa, knitting. Mme. +Duphot was reading aloud to her, +Ozanani’s “Poëtas Francis Caius.”</p> + +<p>“May we come in, mamma? +We want to speak to you.”</p> + +<p>Without looking up, mamma +answered:</p> + +<p>“Please let us just finish the +chapter. Sit down, girls.”</p> + +<p>We sat down, and Mme. Duphot +finished the beautiful legend +of the Holy Francis and Wolf von +Gubio. Then placing her book, +over which she had several times +hurriedly glanced at me, on the +table, she rose.</p> + +<p>I caught her hand.</p> + +<p>“Stay!” I whispered to her; +and Elizabeth hurriedly joined in.</p> + +<p>“Stay, dear Duphot, we count +upon your help. We want papa<span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</span> +here, too, as well. May I send to +ask him to come, mamma?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, ask him to come.”</p> + +<p>Dear mamma! so unsuspectingly +and peacefully going on with +her work, meditating over the +sweet teaching of St. Francis. I +felt so sorry for her. How gladly +would I have spared her the pain +I was about to cause her, but—how +could I?</p> + +<p>The door opened. Papa came +in, but not alone; my brother was +with him. The eyes of both were +directed upon me as they came in.</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes; there she is,” said +papa, in a severe, menacing voice.</p> + +<p>I wanted to rise, but my knees +shook too violently, and I could +only stretch out my hand to seize +his as he passed me. He drew it +hastily back, and going across to +the sofa, sat down by mamma. +My brother subsided on to a chair +near them; and Mme. Duphot,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</span> +who had been sitting by mamma, +diffident as ever, pushed her +tabouret a little further back. +My sister and I sat at a little distance +from them, like a criminal +and his counsel before their +judges.</p> + +<p>“Dear papa, dear mamma,” +began Elizabeth, “in Paula’s name +I would pray you ask the count +to cease paying his addresses to +her. Paula cannot like him, and +is determined that she will not +marry him.”</p> + +<p>I was dismayed and terrified at +the abrupt manner in which she +said this.</p> + +<p>Mme. Duphot sighed.</p> + +<p>Bernhard muttered “Oho!”</p> + +<p>My father and mother were +silent.</p> + +<p>“It is Paula’s earnest hope,” +resumes Elizabeth, “that you, +dear father and mother, will give +your sanction to her decision.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</span></p> + +<p>“Oh, do!” I broke in; “be +merciful. I will be forever grateful +to you. I cannot marry +Count Taxen. I do not feel the +smallest particle of affection for +him; rather the reverse.”</p> + +<p>“Does that mean that you +have a dislike to him?” exclaimed +papa angrily. “Who has been +putting such folly into your head? +I suppose your elder sister?”</p> + +<p>“For all I hold dearest in the +world, do not think that! It is I +who have implored her to intercede +for me with you.”</p> + +<p>“In the first place,” said +mamma, “you need no one to +intercede between you and your +parents, but should have come in +all confidence to them yourself. +In the second place, your sister, +instead of being so ready to take +this office upon herself, should +have pointed out to you how +foolish it is to have allowed any<span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</span> +such fancy not only to exist, but +to be blurted out before us, and +for which there is not the slightest +reason.”</p> + +<p>“She declares it—that is her +reason!” returned Elizabeth.</p> + +<p>Her voice, before somewhat +veiled, was now as hard and sharp +as when first she came to me. I +drew nearer to her, and put my +arm round her—her whole frame +quivered.</p> + +<p>“Folly—folly,” repeated papa. +“We cannot listen to such trash.”</p> + +<p>“The count is an upright, honorable +man; well bred, good looking, +and of unexceptionable manners; +a man with whom you +could not fail to be happy, +Paula,” pronounced mamma, in +severe and uncompromising tones. +“You may not love him now, but +you will certainly learn to do +so when it has become your +duty.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</span></p> + +<p>A shudder ran through me, and +I stammered out:</p> + +<p>“No, mamma, no! I shall +never learn to love him, because +I——”</p> + +<p>The confession I was about to +make died away upon my lips. I +turned a look of entreaty upon +my sister. Her lovely face was +aflame; with arms crossed upon +her breast, she was looking unflinchingly, +an expression of reproach +and indignation in her +eyes, at mamma.</p> + +<p>“Do you remember,” she said, +“some seventeen years ago addressing +that same promise to me, +and with about as much justification? +My suitor, too, was +upright, well bred, and good +looking. Now, mother dear, as +you have not seen or guessed how +matters stand with me, hear once +for all; your promise has <em>not</em> +brought its fulfillment.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</span></p> + +<p>“Elizabeth!” cried my father +and mother together.</p> + +<p>Bernhard, who at first had listened +with somewhat skeptical +smile, suddenly sunk his head. +Mme. Duphot had risen, and +slipped out of the room like a +shadow. With a calm that chilled +me to the heart, Elizabeth continued:</p> + +<p>“That love, which as a matter +of course was to come with marriage, +enveloping me in blessed +blindness, in happy deception, +came not. My heart remained +cold, my eyes clear, and with +those clear eyes of mine I saw +my upright, well-bred husband +through and through——” She +gave a short hard laugh. “It was +no edifying spectacle.”</p> + +<p>I had been so shocked at Elizabeth’s +words, above all by the +decided manner in which she had +said them, that I had not ventured<span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</span> +to look at my parents. I +cast a furtive glance at the chair +previously occupied by Bernhard. +It was empty; my brother had +risen, and was standing by the +window near to which Elizabeth +was sitting, looking earnestly at +her, but, to my relief, not angrily.</p> + +<p>“What does this mean?” asked +papa. “What accusation do you +bring against your husband? +He has never acted other than as +a gentleman; never been guilty +of a single reprehensible action.”</p> + +<p>“Never! He has never wronged +another in the matter of honor or +property,” returned Elizabeth; +“nor has he ever, of his own free +will, stirred a finger to help another, +let alone made any sacrifice +for anyone; has never forgotten +self for the sake of any living +creature. He has no notion of +generosity, or of the beautiful, +save”—and a roguish look flashed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</span> +across her face—“when he comes +across it in the shape of some old +oak chest or rusty spur, lost four +centuries ago by some brave +knight intent on plundering a +traveling merchant.”</p> + +<p>“My dear Elizabeth!” said +Bernhard reproachfully, as, standing +now behind her, he laid his +hand on the back of her chair.</p> + +<p>“I know I ought not to talk +like this,” she answered. “It has +never happened before, and would +not to-day, were it not for the +sake of saving this child from the +fate which has befallen me.”</p> + +<p>Dear mamma was in a state of +greatest agitation and perplexity.</p> + +<p>“You exaggerate cruelly, Elizabeth,” +said she reproachfully. +“You accuse your parents, and +speak unbefittingly of your husband.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth nodded. “Yes, so I +do! But then I have promised<span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</span> +my sister to stand by her in her +hard fight between the filial +obedience she would so gladly +show to you, and the aversion she +feels for the count.”</p> + +<p>“Aversion,” muttered my +father; “absurd!”</p> + +<p>“And keeping my word, I say +to her in your presence. Do not +yield! You are my own sister. +Placed in circumstances similar +to mine, your life would be as +wretched as is mine,” continued +Elizabeth, still speaking with +that terrible calmness.</p> + +<p>While papa cried: “Wretched! +What an extraordinary expression +to use!”</p> + +<p>And she: “Did I know one +stronger, I would adopt it! +Nothing is too strong to express +the humiliation of knowing the +being one looks up to—or rather +one should look up to—to be a +nonentity; or the hypocrisy of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</span> +seeming to defer to him one +knows to be one’s inferior.”</p> + +<p>“Pride! pride!” sighed mamma. +Her work had fallen on to her +lap, she was white as death; and +my heart felt how she was suffering, +as Elizabeth, merely acknowledging +her interruption by a +scornful curl of the lips, continued +icily:</p> + +<p>“The moral death it is, and how +one despises one’s self for it—but +only with penitent humiliation to +crawl again under the sacred yoke—that, +of course, is understood. +Who would make a public scandal +of their matrimonial troubles; +who seek escape from them; who +attempt to drown themselves? +Such, I have heard, is done by the +vulgar horde who are without +religion, or are the poor-spirited +descendants of some worthy shoemaker +or candlestick-maker, without +courage or endurance. We,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</span> +of the upper ten, are religious, +strong to endure, have the blood +of heroes in our veins! We know +no deserters from our posts! +Therefore, Paula, weigh well before +you undertake the post. It +is a vilely loathsome one.”</p> + +<p>She turned to our parents:</p> + +<p>“Dear father and mother, when +you say to your child ‘Accept So-and-so, +he will give you a good +position, splendid castles, a great +establishment, well-appointed carriages,’ +and the like, you are +doubtless doing what is right in +your own eyes. But do not say +to her, ‘Do it because it will bring +you happiness.’ That you have +no right to say. Believe me, it is +presumptuous.”</p> + +<p>Only those who heard these +words could form any idea of the +effect, uttered as they were by +Elizabeth, without raising her +voice or accompanying them by<span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</span> +the slightest gesture. Low and +deliberately they dropped like +heart’s blood from some deep +wound; and as I hearkened to +them, there arose in me the burning +wish that there were anything +on this earth, anything, however +great and well-nigh impossible, +that I might be privileged to do +for my sister.</p> + +<p>Mamma was petrified. Papa +had sunk his arms upon his knees, +and was looking down at his +clenched fingers. His forehead +was deeply furrowed, and for the +first time the thought struck me +how old he looked.</p> + +<p>Bernhard broke the silence:</p> + +<p>“My dear parents, I entreat you +if things are thus—it would be +my opinion—you understand +what I mean——”</p> + +<p>Oh, it was a blessing to us all, +the warm-hearted manner in which +he spoke!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</span></p> + +<p>Papa raising his head, thanked +the dear fellow with an approving +nod, then looking at +mamma inquiringly: “What do +you think?”</p> + +<p>She, trying to answer, could +not; could only sigh:</p> + +<p>“O God! O God!”</p> + +<p>“What do you think, Caroline?” +repeated papa. “Are you not +also——”</p> + +<p>“I do not know,” said she painfully. +“It is very difficult.”</p> + +<p>“There is nothing difficult in it; +it is all quite simple,” broke in +Bernhard. “You have only to tell +the count our daughter is fully +sensible of the honor, etc., etc.; +but she cannot yet make up her +mind to marry; she does not +want to leave us—and the thing +is done!”</p> + +<p>There ensued a long, painful +silence. Papa brought it to an +end by saying:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</span></p> + +<p>“Yes. If she really does want +to stay with us——”</p> + +<p>And mamma put in hesitatingly: +“Paula is certainly still +very young!”</p> + +<p>“Much too young!” cried I. +This solution had never occurred +to me. “Oh, my darling parents!” +I would have rushed to +them, but mamma made a sign to +Elizabeth, and my sister, rising, +went and stood before her.</p> + +<p>“You have given us much pain +to-day, Elizabeth,” said papa. +He held out his hand to her. +She did not offer to kiss it. +What must have been her feelings +at that moment! Our dearest +father had given her his hand in +reconciliation, and Elizabeth had +not kissed it.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>At that moment the count was +announced; and with him my +brother-in-law, to fetch his wife<span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</span> +for the usual drive. Both gentlemen +seemed to be in a high state +of annoyance at some blunder of +their harness-maker; in each case +their ideas had failed to be carried +out.</p> + +<p>Bernhard sympathized ironically +in their grievances, but they +took his malicious comments in +sober earnest.</p> + +<p>As Elizabeth and her husband +left the room, running after them, +I threw my arms vehemently +round my sister, and thanked her, +caring nothing for the disapproving +looks of my brother-in-law.</p> + +<p>“What is all this frantic excitement +about?” he asked.</p> + +<p>Bernhard, who, too, following +my example, had left the room, +answered:</p> + +<p>“Ah, my dear fellow! If you +only knew the vagaries of this +small person!” and he winked at +me. “Only think, this person<span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</span> +refuses to have anything to say +to Count Taxen. Count Taxen! +the wittiest, noblest, and handsomest +of men, and—she will have +nothing to say to him!”</p> + +<p>My brother-in-law, who evidently +took it as a bad joke, +answered: “Ah, well, it is a good +thing that you are here to bring +her to reason.” He turned toward +the door, Elizabeth with him. +We looked after her, walking so +calmly by his side—my poor, +poor sister.</p> + +<p>“I have often shuddered to +think what must come to light if +ever the secrets of that prison +house were unfolded,” said Bernhard.</p> + +<p>“I, too, have often dreaded that +she was unhappy,” I replied, +unable longer to restrain my tears. +“My only wonder was that she +never complained.”</p> + +<p>“No need to wonder at that!”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</span> +he cried. “It is not suitable for +general conversation. If circumstances +force it from a true +woman, she may speak of it once, +but never again. Take example +from her;” and he affectionately +patted my cheek. “Our friend +in the drawing room is getting +his <i lang="fr">congé</i>. Are you content, +pussy?”</p> + +<p>I was about to thank him for +his goodness; but with an impatient +movement he drew back, as +he said:</p> + +<p>“For Heaven’s sake, don’t come +the sentimental!”</p> + +<p>My parents said no more to me +about the count; and it may be +readily imagined that I never +mentioned him to them. A few +evenings before the soirée at +which I made the resolve to write +my Memoirs, his mother was present, +and made a point of showing +me the greatest kindness. This<span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</span> +noble heartedness made me feel +so small and ashamed that I had +to exercise the greatest self-control +to prevent myself from +earnestly praying the countess to +think kindly of me and forgive +me. It would have been a fearful +want of tact had I done so.</p> + +<p>As she moved away, mischievous +Pierre Coucy said, with a +titter, “She is more <i lang="fr"><a id="tn-142">la crème</a></i> to-night +than ever—but sour.”</p> + +<p>“No wonder,” rejoined his +brother, with a side glance at +me.</p> + +<p>Then to Elizabeth: “Have you +heard our paragon son is off on a +cruise—to Bohemia?”</p> + +<p>“No, no,” put in Pierre; “in an +air balloon to recover his equilibrium.”</p> + +<p>I was confused at their sallies. +But Elizabeth, with her majestic +calm, said: “You are romancing, +now the secret is out! I have<span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</span> +long suspected your silent proclivities.”</p> + +<p>“You are wrong, countess! +More than a writer of romance, I +am a prophet!”</p> + +<p>“Highly necessary, in order to +see through a sphinx like our +friend Count Taxen.”</p> + +<p>So they went on cutting bad +jests, until I felt quite sorry for +the count, who looked upon the +Coucys as his friends. They +must have imparted their surmise +to others besides ourselves, for +when Baron Schwarzburg came +up to me that evening, I read it +on his brow, and it laughed in his +eyes, as he heartily wished the +count a pleasant journey.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Things are very strange at +home now, and not altogether +pleasant. Even my Duphot, for +the first time in my life, bears a +grudge against me—in her gentle<span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</span> +way, be it understood, and quite +as much to her sorrow as to mine.</p> + +<p>My beloved father is out of +sorts, and although he often says, +“Do whatever you like,” the +words over which I used to exult +now make me sad. I always +dread lest I should hear in them, +“Our wishes, of course, are of no +account to you.”</p> + +<p>Mamma, too, seems depressed, +and spends more time in church +than ever.</p> + +<p>She must be praying there for +Elizabeth; for she has laid it +upon me in my daily prayers to +commend my poor sister to God, +that he may turn her heart, and +awaken in it a befitting and dutiful +love to her husband. And I +pray accordingly, though I must +confess I doubt whether the +Divine Power will see fit to be +influenced in such a cause. The +true love which can arouse that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</span> +burning devotion in us, akin only +to sacred adoration, is given us by +our Heavenly Father, if to be +given at all, from the very beginning. +The miserable supplementary +love, gathered together +for us by joint prayers, what can +that avail?</p> + +<p><i>May 25th.</i>—Reading through +these pages yesterday, I asked +myself if these really are memoirs +that I am writing? Memoirs treat +of interesting people, and I am +only writing about myself; they +treat of interesting times, and I +only occupy myself with the present, +which, for the matter of that, +is very interesting.</p> + +<p>“A momentous period in the +political world!” I heard an old +gentleman say the other day.</p> + +<p>My whole understanding for +politics, however, is confined to a +decided interest in all that concerns +the governorship of our<span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</span> +province. Opportunities of discussing +it, ever so welcome to me, +are not wanting, papa having +interests at stake in it. His object +is to prevent the inhabitants +of one of the districts, against +better judgment, from cutting +down the trees and tilling the +land of one of the forests belonging +to him. Until quite lately +he was forever complaining of the +laxity of the local authorities. +Suddenly, his invectives have +ceased. I had long wanted to +know why, but had not ventured +to inquire into the subject on +account of his not standing well +with the authorities. At length +to-day, taking courage, I said:</p> + +<p>“How are things going about +the district forest, papa? Is it +going to be under tillage?”</p> + +<p>“No, it is not.”</p> + +<p>“Then you have carried your +point. That is capital.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</span></p> + +<p>“Father has carried his point, +because he has put it, at last, into +the hands of the right man,” interposed +Bernhard, continuing, unabashed +by papa’s meaning look—“of +the man of right, who this +time has proved the truth of his +axiom, Right must conquer.”</p> + +<p>Mamma and Mme. Duphot in +vain endeavored to turn the subject; +Bernhard, sticking to his +point, would not yield until he +had forced from dear papa the +acknowledgment that Baron +Schwarzburg was a man of great +talent, and a very fine fellow.</p> + +<p>That afternoon it was settled +that in a week we should leave +town for Trostburg. Elizabeth +was to come on a long visit to us, +and without her husband, who has +just bought a new place in the +Marmaros, and is about to build a +hunting castle there.</p> + +<p>My sister is quite another person<span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</span> +since her husband’s departure; +so much more animated, lively to +audacity, and so loving and affectionate +to papa and mamma.</p> + +<p>She coaxes and pets me as if I +were a baby.</p> + +<p>“If only you had a real baby!” +I said to her once.</p> + +<p>“Silence!” she cried. “It is +my one source of thankfulness +that Heaven has not given me +one! I should have hated it as I +do——”</p> + +<p>She did not finish her sentence; +but I understood her too well, and +felt a rush of deepest pity for her.</p> + +<p>When I see her breathing thus +freely again in her liberty, it +always makes me think of a certain +lovely mountain ash tree in +the forest. A terrific storm beating +over it had bowed down the +young tree, until its crest had +caught in the branches of a puny +misshapen fir tree, much smaller<span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</span> +than it, and the poor ash could +not free itself. Its slender stem +was bent like a bow; its tender +branches, accustomed only to the +free space of heaven above them +wherein to stir and expand at +their own sweet will, hung to +earth withered and disconsolate, +pining in the straggling clutches +of the tyrant. Fortunately my +father and I happened to pass +that way. He had the worthless +fir tree cut down; and oh, joy! +the mountain ash was freed; its +elastic stem quickly righted itself, +its branches swayed blissfully in +the breeze, each individual leaflet +uplifted itself with joyous flutter, +and its graceful summit seemed to +bow in greeting to its companions, +and to the blue sky above it, +which, answering, shed the gladdening +rays of sunlight full upon +it.</p> + +<p>The mountain ash is forever<span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</span> +freed from its oppressor. My +poor sister must return to her +imprisonment when summer is +over. But she does not allow this +thought to trouble her happiness; +she is too noble-spirited. She +says, Enjoy your blessings while +you have them; it is only the +pampered children of fortune who +do not give thanks for happiness, +because it is fleeting. A Crœsus +has no easy minute, for he has no +security but that he may outlive +his riches. The beggar does not +enjoy the crust you give him any +the less through fear of to-morrow’s +hunger.</p> + +<p>The more I am with her, the +more do I admire her and sorrow +for her; and the more I compare +our lots, the more grateful am I +for mine. How merciful God has +been to me! The blessed freedom +only granted for a brief +space to my sister, is mine forever<span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</span> +to enjoy, and in addition to it the +great, silent bliss of being privileged +to think to my heart’s content +of him who is so unspeakably +dear to me. Though separated +from him, I will walk as if in his +sight in all I do, or leave undone, +asking myself, “Would he approve +it?” he the right man, the man +of right!</p> + +<p>There must be something unusual +in contemplation. There +are mysterious conferences in the +small drawing room; long discussions +in papa’s study. Confusion +reigns in every nook and corner. +Mamma has sent round notes of +excuse, and is not holding the +remaining receptions this season; +and Baron Schwarzburg, who +seemed to have received no intimation +of the change in her +arrangements, was greatly astonished +the other evening on finding +us alone. I noticed papa and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</span> +Bernhard exchange a hurried +glance as he was announced, and +that they looked with some +concern at mamma. Her manner +to him was cold, but not half as +cold as that of my Duphot. She +has conceived the most inexplicable +antipathy to the baron, and +has confided to me more than +once, with symptoms of extremest +aversion, that she looks upon him +as an <i lang="fr">esprit fort</i>. He stayed an +hour. The happiness I experienced +in seeing and hearing him +was sadly marred by thinking +every instant, “Now he will take +his leave, and I shall see and hear +him no more, perhaps, for years—perhaps, +who knows? forever!”</p> + +<p>It was an unspeakable surprise +to me to hear papa say to him, as +they shook hands: “You must +look in again and see us before +you leave.” I could not help it—I +rushed to papa and impulsively<span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</span> +kissed his hand. Looking at me +severely, he muttered:</p> + +<p>“What is the matter? You +seem to be growing foolish.”</p> + +<p><i>May 30th.</i>—I must write down +what has happened—if I can, if +my trembling hand will let me, if +my thoughts do not chase each +other too swiftly. I have kept so +calm all the evening, have been +able to speak of the most indifferent +things with such composure—why +then should I feel so painfully +agitated now? I certainly +did think that my family quietly +overlooked the answers <i lang="fr">à tort et +à travers</i> I gave them at first. +Could I have been mistaken? +They all looked so wise, and the +wildest imaginings were flying +through my brain. But that was +afterward; what first took place +was as follows:</p> + +<p>This afternoon I was sitting +alone in the great drawing room,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</span> +awaiting the return of mamma and +Mme. Duphot from church; when +the door suddenly opened, and, +without being announced, Baron +Schwarzburg came in, saying:</p> + +<p>“I came to say good-by, countess. +I start to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>And I, in my bewilderment, +could say nothing but:</p> + +<p>“My mamma is not at home.”</p> + +<p>“I know,” he replied.</p> + +<p>“She will soon be back,” I said. +Upon which he bowed silently.</p> + +<p>I had risen at his entry, and +now did not know whether I +might ask him to be seated. To +leave him standing was too +uncourteous. This threw me into +a dilemma, and the first few delicious +moments of our being alone +together were truly uncomfortable.</p> + +<p>He walked to the window, +and for a while appeared to be +absorbed in what was passing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</span> +below. Then he turned again +toward me. He was holding his +hat in one hand, his gloves in the +other, beating them on the brim +of his hat.</p> + +<p>For the sake of saying something, +I remarked:</p> + +<p>“The dust is blowing up very +unpleasantly to-day.”</p> + +<p>The dearest smile played about +his lips as he answered:</p> + +<p>“Oh, no. It has been raining +hard.”</p> + +<p>Another pause ensued, this time +a long one; until the baron +brought it to a close by saying:</p> + +<p>“You are aware that I am very +glad to be going to Bosnia?”</p> + +<p>I replied:</p> + +<p>“Yes, I know; and I know the +reason. You have a great work +before you there.”</p> + +<p>“For the small scope of my +office,” he hastened to make reply. +“It is just the inferiority of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</span> +office I hold which gives a certain +importance to the work in hand. +At any rate, it must take a long +time to settle; and I shall not +think of coming home until it is +completed.”</p> + +<p>“But you will have leave from +time to time?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, certainly.”</p> + +<p>“And you will come and see +us?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, of course.”</p> + +<p>“That will give pleasure to +many—to me especially.”</p> + +<p>These very natural words of +mine seemed to produce a remarkable +impression upon him.</p> + +<p>With warmth and agitation, he +repeated:</p> + +<p>“You, especially? you, especially?”</p> + +<p>He seemed about to add something, +took a step toward me, +then recalling himself, preserved +silence, merely throwing his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</span> +gloves impetuously into his hat, +which he had placed upon the +window-sill. Then I, regaining +courage, said: “Do take a seat, +Baron Schwarzburg.”</p> + +<p>He accepted my invitation, and +we sat down on the two easychairs +by the flower table, facing +each other, near the French +window leading on to the balcony.</p> + +<p>“How heavy and oppressive +the air is in town, now!” he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>And I agreed that it would be +ever so much pleasanter in the +country, and in Bosnia, too.</p> + +<p>“Oh, infinitely. And will you +be as glad to go into the country +as I to go to Bosnia?”</p> + +<p>I said yes. And then he +wanted a description of my life at +Trostburg, and I gave him a +detailed account of the way I +spent each day. He thanked me<span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</span> +warmly. It would be so delightful +to know where his thoughts +could seek me at every hour of +the day; in the woods, in the +garden, in my own room, or in the +library absorbed in some interesting +book. “And be sure that my +thoughts will often follow you,” +he added.</p> + +<p>“I shall count upon that,” was +my reply.</p> + +<p>“And will you be thinking of +me?” He looked into my eyes as +he asked it.</p> + +<p>With as firm a look, I answered:</p> + +<p>“Always.”</p> + +<p>Then he seized my hand, and +held it nervously, almost as +though I were some priceless +treasure.</p> + +<p>“No, that you must not do! +Even to one’s best friend—and +that I am to you—one does not +give up all one’s thoughts. He +will consider himself happy indeed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</span> +if you occasionally grant him +a kindly remembrance.”</p> + +<p>This modest requirement disconcerted +and displeased me, and +I had the courage to tell him so. +He must know perfectly well, I +thought to myself, how very dear +he is to me—and if I can make so +bold as to assume that he likes me, +he surely might be satisfied of my +love for him. And so I told him +that, for my part, I should always +have him in my thoughts, and +that to do so would be my +greatest happiness. My dear +parents had now quite yielded to +my wish that I should never +marry. So that danger was over—once +for all. I should go on +living with them, loving and +tending them as long as their +dear lives lasted; and when I had +them no longer on earth, would +honor their memories, carry on +their good works, and lead the life<span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</span> +of an old maid, honored, happy, +and perhaps of some use in my +generation.</p> + +<p>He listened patiently, then +responded:</p> + +<p>“Very good. You have made +me fully acquainted with it all: +first, of your rules day by day; +now your plans for the future. +Very good, we will keep to it. +You a willing and contented +old maid; I,” he shrugged his +shoulders, “of necessity, an old +bachelor.”</p> + +<p>“Of necessity?”</p> + +<p>“Yes!” he cried. “Where +should I find a wife willing to +share the hard life which I, at +least temporarily, have to offer +her?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, on that account? A hard +life is no obstacle!”</p> + +<p>“And what is?”</p> + +<p>“The wishes of one’s parents.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, there we come back to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</span> +the same thing. The parents’ +wishes spring from the feeling +that the children they have +brought up in luxury must not +make a bad match; it would only +lead to unhappiness and misery. +It would lower them in their own +eyes, and they would lose caste.”</p> + +<p>Waxing hotter and hotter as +he went on, in his warmth he said +many things which were utterly +illogical. He derided the prejudices +of society, and yet constrained +himself with painful +self-mastery to declare that +custom had sanctified these +prejudices, and that they who +belonged to the circles where +they held good, did right to +honor them.</p> + +<p>“Then you do not act up to +your convictions?” I said.</p> + +<p>“I? Good Heavens! Do not +speak of what I do. I, as everyone +will tell you, am a fool. I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</span> +am far from acting up to those +convictions, because I do not, in +truth, hold them; and on that +account I am a very fool. But +not fool enough, countess, not +fool enough to persuade the one +I love”—and here he pressed my +hand with such force that I had +the greatest difficulty to prevent +an exclamation—“to follow my +example, and be my companion +on my lonely way.”</p> + +<p>He clenched his teeth. His +eyes looked wild; his accustomed +self-control had quite forsaken +him. He looked so fearfully +agitated that he would have +terrified me had I not loved him +so well; but because I loved him +so well I felt, oh, so sorry for +him, and I said:</p> + +<p>“I know somebody who would +have no need of persuasion; who +would only be too glad to go with +you, if she dared!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</span></p> + +<p>Instead of calming him, my +words only seemed to excite him +the more.</p> + +<p>“Happy for that foolish girl +that she does not dare! Happy +for her. She little knows what +she would be taking upon herself; +little as I knew, nor the name +that would be given me, and that +I first heard myself christened in +scorn and derision, ‘Idealist!’ Be +one! Struggle against the mighty +element; waste your strength in +useless warfare! Wrench yourself +free from all the fresh, joyous +pursuits of your equals, your +associates—once your brethren, +now your adversaries, whose +interest you oppose, whose convictions +you belie, and—to whom +you yet cling with every fiber of +your heart!”</p> + +<p>He was silent. And I did not +venture to break the silence. +Still ever louder, more distinct,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</span> +there arose within me: Foolish +girl! Yes, twice foolish; to have +thought it enough to follow him +at a distance. With him is your +place. All my other duties suddenly +seemed to me unimportant +in comparison. My dread of my +beloved father, childish. I believe +that it was then that in a very +low, yet decided, voice, I said:</p> + +<p>“Were it not better, in such a +fight, to have a companion at +one’s side?”</p> + +<p>“A companion?”</p> + +<p>“One equally minded with +one’s self; but who, hitherto, has +not so plainly stated her views, +because she could not trust herself, +did not so clearly see——”</p> + +<p>I came to a standstill; I did +not dare to look up at him. But +I felt that his eyes were resting +upon me as he asked gently, and +with a ring of deep affection in +his voice:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</span></p> + +<p>“Has it really only just become +clear to her?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, she knows that she, like +you, is an idealist.”</p> + +<p>“Miracle of miracles!” he said, +in oh, so playful a voice, and with +such repressed rapture. “Am I +really to meet with so rare a being +as an idealist in your circle? +Nowadays? Impossible!”</p> + +<p>“Convince yourself.”</p> + +<p>“Shall I? Dare I? Would the +idealist you speak of be able to +endure to cast her lot with one so +obscure, so unknown as I?”</p> + +<p>“Of course. And I only wish, +with all my heart that you may +remain obscure and unknown, +that I may the better prove to +you——”</p> + +<p>I got no further; for, rejoicing, +he interrupted me:</p> + +<p>“You! You! You then are +willing to be that faithful, devoted +companion? And to me is to be<span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</span> +granted that rare fortune—highest +of all earthly joys—to find in the +wife of my soul the sharer of my +views, the confidante of all, even +my boldest aims; my counselor +in doubt, sweetest consoler in +sorrow, closest sympathizer in +success? You will be to me all +that? All—despite everybody?”</p> + +<p>“It will not need to be despite +everybody,” I made answer, confused +by the passionate delight +with which he pressed me to him. +“I will entreat my dear father——”</p> + +<p>“Your father!” he cried. And +springing back, he struck his forehead +like one possessed.</p> + +<p>And I, to my great amazement, +looking up, saw my father and +Bernhard standing there.</p> + +<p>“Well!” said papa; “kept your +word?”</p> + +<p>“Do not ask me. Do not ask +me!” cried Schwarzburg, beside +himself.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</span></p> + +<p>With a loud laugh, Bernhard +cried:</p> + +<p>“What, have you not succeeded +in persuading her against Baron +Schwarzburg? I am jolly glad!”</p> + +<p>“I am not,” responded papa. +“It is as I expected. But then, +I am no idealist; I know mankind.”</p> + +<p>Bernhard blurted out, “If he +had really been such a Don +Quixote as to——”</p> + +<p>“Be still!” said my father +authoritatively.</p> + +<p>But he continued: “I would +have cut him dead.”</p> + +<p>Here a footman announced +that mamma awaited the gentlemen +in the small drawing room. +They obeyed the summons at +once; papa sending me up to my +own room. Here I still am. +They seem to have quite forgotten +me; or else they will have no +more to say to me. No one<span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</span> +seems to trouble about me. Oh, +if I had not you, my faithful +Diary, in which to confide my +every thought, I should indeed be +greatly, greatly to be pitied.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp30" id="i_b168" style="max-width: 25em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/i_b168.jpg" alt="Ornate image"> +</figure> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"></div> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</span></p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp75" id="i_b169" style="max-width: 25em;"> + <img class="w100 p4" src="images/i_b169.jpg" alt="Ornate image"> +</figure> + +<h2 class="nobreak p4" id="EPILOGUE">EPILOGUE.</h2> + +<figure> + <img class="drop-cap2" src="images/drop_i.jpg" alt="I" style="max-width: 5em;"> +</figure> + +<p class="drop-cap2">If you have followed me +thus far, kind readers, +my thanks are due to +you for your constancy. +We must now bid farewell +to each other. Not only +have the Memoirs I so presumptuously +undertook to write degenerated +into a diary, but even that +diary must now give place to +a correspondence, the nature of +which will forever remain the +secret of two individuals.</p> + +<p>If you care to know how this +came about, grant me your indulgence +yet a little longer.</p> + +<p>They left me an unconscionable +time to myself that day. It +had grown dark, and a deathlike<span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</span> +stillness reigned around. Even +the most indefatigable songster +among my birds had ceased +singing, and, all crouched up, was +asleep on his perch. How I +envied the pretty little creature’s +peace of mind.</p> + +<p>At last I heard the sound of +footsteps approaching my door, +the tiny step of my Duphot.</p> + +<p>“Ah, <i lang="fr">ma chère</i>!” she said, +mournful and reproachful, as she +came in and bade me go with her +to my parents. So wild a beating +of the heart I do not suppose +anyone has ever experienced as +that with which I obeyed her +behest; it was too agonizing, too +dreadful.</p> + +<p>Besides papa and mamma, I +found my brother and sister and +Baron Schwarzburg. He stood +up as I came in; I, too, remained +standing. Papa began:</p> + +<p>“Paula, your mother and I, not<span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</span> +desiring to incur a second time +the reproach that the happiness +of one of our children——”</p> + +<p>“Or what she considers to be +happiness,” broke in mamma.</p> + +<p>“Is of less importance to us,” +continued papa, “than it should +be to parents who love their +children, had therefore given our +permission to Baron Schwarzburg +to speak to you before he left. +It has resulted——”</p> + +<p>“Differently from what we anticipated,” +interpolated mamma.</p> + +<p>“And, as I hear, you are agreed +in the idea——”</p> + +<p>“Or in imagining,” suggested +mamma.</p> + +<p>“That you are made for each +other,” said papa.</p> + +<p>To which I said “Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” repeated the Baron +Schwarzburg, deeply moved.</p> + +<p>“Well then, if two people are +really made for each other—a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</span> +thing which very rarely happens—there +is but one thing to be +done. But it remains to be +proved; and proof requires time. +Endurance is the proof; so you +must wait.”</p> + +<p>“We will wait,” said Schwarzburg.</p> + +<p>“Three years,” said papa.</p> + +<p>My head turned. I could not +realize my happiness. So it was +not, as I had with fear and +trembling so fully expected to +hear: “Do it if you will. But +give up all hope of our consent!”</p> + +<p>“Only three years?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“Not a day less,” said mamma.</p> + +<p>And I: “Why, that is nothing! +We would wait <em>ten</em> years if you +required it, dearest father and +mother. We are happy beyond +everything, and have no other +wish than——”</p> + +<p>“Speak for yourself!” put in +Bernhard.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</span></p> + +<p>Baron Schwarzburg was looking +decidedly alarmed, and I asked +him: “Do you think so? To wait—wait +for each other—what could +be more heavenly?”</p> + +<p>“The shorter, the more heavenly,” +he returned.</p> + +<p>Elizabeth, coming up to me, +had taken me in her arms. “See, +what a wise, sensible child it is! +Three years’ probation are too +little for her; she prefers ten. +Ah, she knows death is easy, but +marriage is a venture!”</p> + +<p>“Do not jest, countess,” interposed +Schwarzburg. “I consent +to three years—not a day less, +but not a day more.” His voice +faltered, but a strong, unswerving +determination gleamed in his eyes.</p> + +<p>“So it is settled, and so it shall +remain. A few hours ago,” he +continued, turning to me, “I had +counted the happiness that has +come to me as utterly unattainable;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</span> +but now I have known it; +it is mine, and I hold it fast, as +fast as I am wont to hold the +things most precious to me; and +you are the most precious thing +of all to me, Paula, and, I well +know, the most sure.” He took +my hand, “In three years; but +then; for life.”</p> + +<p>“From now; for life.” I could +say no more.</p> + +<p>He took leave of us all. How +sweet and natural Elizabeth was +with him! Oh, dear sister mine, +can I ever thank you enough?</p> + +<p>Only when the door had closed +upon him, did the consciousness +of our parting fall with leaden +weight upon my heart. He had +gone, and we had scarce—nay, we +had not even said good-by to each +other. An unspeakable sense of +yearning came over me; I fought +with the tears which choked me. +No one said a word.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</span></p> + +<p>Suddenly Bernhard said laughingly: +“Why, he has actually +gone without his hat!”</p> + +<p>All at once it flashed across me +where it had been left; and I ran +to the great drawing room to fetch +it. To the drawing room they +came, papa and the baron—and +how it happened I have not the +least conception, but the next +instant I was in the arms of my +betrothed, pressed close to his +heart, and he was showering kisses +upon me—hot, passionate kisses.</p> + +<p>Papa was standing by us; no +longer the stern papa of the last +few weeks, but the tender, loving +one of old, and of all time to +come.</p> + +<p>I had only to look into his dear +face to straightway regain my +former boundless confidence in +him; and in the strength of this +confidence to say:</p> + +<p>“May I write to him, papa?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</span></p> + +<p>“And I to her?” asked +Schwarzburg.</p> + +<p>Papa hesitated.</p> + +<p>“Why? what for? See——” +he broke off, sighed, looked at +us both with strong emotion, +then with all the loving intonation +of old came the dear, priceless +formula:</p> + +<p>“Well, do whatever you like.”</p> + + +<p class="center p4 b4">THE END.</p> + +<div class="chapter"> +<div class="transnote"> +<p> Obvious typographical errors and punctuation errors have been +corrected after careful comparison with other occurrences within +the text and consultation of external sources.</p> + +<p>Except for those changes noted below, all misspellings in the text, +and inconsistent or archaic usage, have been retained.</p> + +<p class="plist"><a href="#tn-33">Pg 33:</a> ‘and goodess only’ replaced by ‘and goodness only’.<br> +<a href="#tn-42">Pg 42:</a> ‘so, extendng’ replaced by ‘so, extending’.<br> +<a href="#tn-64">Pg 64:</a> ‘know off the’ replaced by ‘know of the’.</p> +<a href="#tn-142">Pg 142:</a> ‘la crême’ replaced by ‘la crème’. +</div> +</div> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76750 ***</div> +</body> +</html> + diff --git a/76750-h/images/cover.jpg b/76750-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ebc3cec --- /dev/null +++ b/76750-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/76750-h/images/drop_i.jpg b/76750-h/images/drop_i.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ed025c1 --- /dev/null +++ b/76750-h/images/drop_i.jpg diff --git a/76750-h/images/drop_t.jpg b/76750-h/images/drop_t.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..964153b --- /dev/null +++ b/76750-h/images/drop_t.jpg diff --git a/76750-h/images/drop_w.jpg b/76750-h/images/drop_w.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..8e9d8b8 --- /dev/null +++ b/76750-h/images/drop_w.jpg diff --git a/76750-h/images/i_a001.jpg b/76750-h/images/i_a001.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..52daf6c --- /dev/null +++ b/76750-h/images/i_a001.jpg diff --git a/76750-h/images/i_b001.jpg b/76750-h/images/i_b001.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..dde93a3 --- /dev/null +++ b/76750-h/images/i_b001.jpg diff --git a/76750-h/images/i_b045.jpg b/76750-h/images/i_b045.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a9d210e --- /dev/null +++ b/76750-h/images/i_b045.jpg diff --git a/76750-h/images/i_b168.jpg b/76750-h/images/i_b168.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c92cba3 --- /dev/null +++ b/76750-h/images/i_b168.jpg diff --git a/76750-h/images/i_b169.jpg b/76750-h/images/i_b169.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..172756a --- /dev/null +++ b/76750-h/images/i_b169.jpg |
