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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Bertha Garlan, by Arthur Schnitzler
+
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+Title: Bertha Garlan
+
+Author: Arthur Schnitzler
+
+Release Date: February, 2006  [EBook #9955]
+[This file was first posted on November 4, 2003]
+
+Edition: 10
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: US-ASCII
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, BERTHA GARLAN ***
+
+
+
+
+E-text prepared by Charles Aldarondo, Mary Meehan, and the Project Gutenberg
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+BERTHA GARLAN
+
+BY ARTHUR SCHNITZLER
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+
+She was walking slowly down the hill; not by the broad high road which
+wound its way towards the town, but by the narrow footpath between the
+trellises of the vines. Her little boy was with her, hanging on to her
+hand and walking all the time a pace in front of her, because there was
+not room on the footpath for them to walk side by side.
+
+The afternoon was well advanced, but the sun still poured down upon her
+with sufficient power to cause her to pull her dark straw hat a little
+further down over her forehead and to keep her eyes lowered. The slopes,
+at the foot of which the little town lay nestling, glimmered as though
+seen through a golden mist; the roofs of the houses below glistened, and
+the river, emerging yonder amongst the meadows outside the town,
+stretched, shimmering, into the distance. Not a quiver stirred the air,
+and it seemed as if the cool of the evening was yet far remote.
+
+Bertha stooped for a moment and glanced about her. Save for her boy, she
+was all alone on the hillside, and around her brooded a curious
+stillness. At the cemetery, too, on the hilltop, she had not met anybody
+that day, not even the old woman who usually watered the flowers and kept
+the graves tidy, and with whom Bertha used often to have a chat. Bertha
+felt that somehow a considerable time had elapsed since she had started
+on her walk, and that it was long since she had spoken to anyone.
+
+The church clock struck--six. So, then, scarcely an hour had passed since
+she had left the house, and an even shorter time since she had stopped in
+the street to chat with the beautiful Frau Rupius. Yet even the few
+minutes which had slipped away since she had stood by her husband's grave
+now seemed to be long past.
+
+"Mamma!"
+
+Suddenly she heard her boy call. He had slipped his hand out of hers and
+had run on ahead.
+
+"I can walk quicker than you, mamma!"
+
+"Wait, though! Wait, Fritz!" exclaimed Bertha. "You're not going to leave
+your mother alone, are you?"
+
+She followed him and again took him by the hand.
+
+"Are we going home already?" asked Fritz.
+
+"Yes; we will sit by the open window until it grows quite dark."
+
+Before long they had reached the foot of the hill and they began to walk
+towards the town in the shade of the chestnut trees which bordered the
+high-road, now white with dust. Here again they met but few people. Along
+the road a couple of wagons came towards them, the drivers, whip in
+hand, trudging along beside the horses. Then two cyclists rode by from
+the town towards the country, leaving clouds of dust behind them. Bertha
+stopped mechanically and gazed after them until they had almost
+disappeared from view.
+
+In the meantime Fritz had clambered up onto the bench beside the road.
+
+"Look, mamma! See what I can do!"
+
+He made ready to jump, but his mother took hold of him by the arms and
+lifted him carefully to the ground. Then she sat down on the bench.
+
+"Are you tired?" asked Fritz.
+
+"Yes," she answered, surprised to find that she was indeed feeling
+fatigued.
+
+It was only then that she realized that the sultry air had wearied her to
+the point of sleepiness. She could not, moreover, remember having
+experienced such warm weather in the middle of May.
+
+From the bench on which she was sitting she could trace back the course
+of the path down which she had come. In the sunlight it ran between the
+vine-trellises, up and up, until it reached the brightly gleaming wall of
+the cemetery. She was in the habit of taking a walk along that path two
+or three times a week. She had long since ceased to regard such visits to
+the cemetery as anything other than a mere walk. When she wandered about
+the well-kept gravel paths amongst the crosses and the tombstones, or
+stood offering up a silent prayer beside her husband's grave, or, maybe,
+laying upon it a few wild flowers which she had plucked on her way up,
+her heart was scarcely any longer stirred by the slightest throb of pain.
+Three years had, indeed, passed since her husband had died, which was
+just as long as their married life had lasted.
+
+Her eyes closed and her mind went back to the time when she had first
+come to the town, only a few days after their marriage--which had taken
+place in Vienna. They had only indulged in a modest honeymoon trip, such
+as a man in humble circumstances, who had married a woman without any
+dowry, could treat himself to. They had taken the boat from Vienna, up
+the river, to a little village in Wachau, not far from their future home,
+and had spent a few days there. Bertha could still remember clearly the
+little inn at which they had stayed, the riverside garden in which they
+used to sit after sunset, and those quiet, rather tedious, evenings which
+were so completely different from those her girlish imagination had
+previously pictured to her as the evenings which a newly-married couple
+would spend. Of course, she had had to be content.
+
+She was twenty-six years old and quite alone in the world when Victor
+Mathias Garlan had proposed to her. Her parents had recently died. A long
+time before, one of her brothers had gone to America to seek his fortune
+as a merchant. Her younger brother was on the stage; he had married an
+actress, and was playing comedy parts in third-rate German theatres. She
+was almost out of touch with her relations and the only one whom she
+visited occasionally was a cousin who had married a lawyer. But even that
+friendship had grown cool as years had passed, because the cousin had
+become wrapped up in her husband and children exclusively, and had almost
+ceased to take any interest in the doings of her unmarried friend.
+
+Herr Garlan was a distant relation of Bertha's mother. When Bertha was
+quite a young girl he had often visited the house and made love to her in
+a rather awkward way. In those days she had no reasons to encourage him,
+because it was in another guise that her fancy pictured life and
+happiness to her. She was young and pretty; her parents, though not
+actually wealthy people, were comfortably off, and her hope was rather to
+wander about the world as a great pianiste, perhaps, as the wife of an
+artist, than to lead a modest existence in the placid routine of the home
+circle. But that hope soon faded. One day her father, in a transport of
+domestic fervour, forbade her further attendance at the conservatoire of
+music, which put an end to her prospects of an artistic career and at the
+same time to her friendship with the young violinist who had since made
+such a name for himself.
+
+The next few years were singularly dull. At first, it is true, she felt
+some slight disappointment, or even pain, but these emotions were
+certainly of short duration. Later on she had received offers of
+marriage from a young doctor and a merchant. She refused both of them;
+the doctor because he was too ugly, and the merchant because he lived in
+a country town. Her parents, too, were by no means enthusiastic about
+either suitor.
+
+When, however, Bertha's twenty-sixth birthday passed and her father lost
+his modest competency through a bankruptcy, it had been her lot to put up
+with belated reproaches on the score of all sorts of things which she
+herself had begun to forget--her youthful artistic ambitions, her love
+affair of long ago with the violinist, which had seemed likely to lead to
+nothing, and the lack of encouragement which the ugly doctor and the
+merchant from the country received at her hands.
+
+At that time Victor Mathias Garlan was no longer resident in Vienna. Two
+years before, the insurance company, in which he had been employed since
+he had reached the age of twenty, had, at his own request, transferred
+him, in the capacity of manager, to the recently-established branch in
+the little town on the Danube where his married brother carried on
+business as a wine merchant. In the course of a somewhat lengthy
+conversation which took place on the occasion of his farewell visit to
+Bertha's parents, and which created a certain impression upon her, he had
+mentioned that the principal reasons for his asking to be transferred to
+the little town were that he felt himself to be getting on in years, that
+he had no longer any idea of seeking a wife, and that he desired to have
+some sort of a home amongst people who were closely connected with him.
+At that time Bertha's parents had made fun of his notion, which seemed to
+them somewhat hypochondriacal, for Garlan was then scarcely forty years
+old. Bertha herself, however, had found a good deal of common sense in
+Garlan's reason, inasmuch as he had never appeared to her as, properly
+speaking, a young man.
+
+In the course of the following years Garlan used often to come to Vienna
+on business, and never omitted to visit Bertha's family on such
+occasions. After supper it was Bertha's custom to play the piano for
+Garlan's entertainment, and he used to listen to her with an almost
+reverent attention, and would, perhaps, go on to talk of his little
+nephew and niece--who were both very musical--and to whom he would often
+speak of Fraulein Bertha as the finest pianiste he had ever heard.
+
+It seemed strange, and Bertha's mother could not refrain from commenting
+now and again upon it, that, since his diffident wooing in the old days,
+Herr Garlan had not once ventured so much as to make the slightest
+further allusion to the past, or even to a possible future. And thus
+Bertha, in addition to the other reproaches to which she had to listen,
+incurred the blame for treating Herr Garlan with too great indifference,
+if not, indeed, with actual coldness. Bertha, however, only shook her
+head, for at that time she had not so much as contemplated the
+possibility of marrying this somewhat awkward man, who had grown old
+before his time.
+
+After the sudden death of her mother, which happened at a time when her
+father had been lying ill for many months, Garlan reappeared upon the
+scene with the announcement that he had obtained a month's holiday--the
+only one for which he had ever applied. It was clearly evident to Bertha
+that his sole purpose in coming to Vienna was to be of help to her in
+that time of trouble and distress. And when Bertha's father died a week
+after the funeral of her mother, Garlan proved himself to be a true
+friend, and one, moreover, blessed with an amount of energy for which she
+had never given him credit. He prevailed on his sister-in-law to come to
+Vienna, so that she could help Bertha to tide over the first few weeks of
+her bereavement, besides, in some slight degree, distracting her
+thoughts. He settled the business affairs capably and quickly. His
+kindness of heart did much to cheer Bertha during those sad days, and
+when, on the expiration of his leave, he asked her whether she would be
+his wife she acquiesced with a feeling of the most profound gratitude.
+She was, of course, aware of the fact that if she did not marry him she
+would in a few months' time have to earn her own living, probably as a
+teacher, and, besides, she had come to appreciate Garlan and had become
+so used to his company that she was able, in all sincerity, to answer
+"Yes," both when he led her to the altar and subsequently when, as they
+set off for their honeymoon, he asked her, for the first time, if she
+loved him.
+
+It was true that at the very outset of their married life she
+discovered that she felt no love for him. She just let him love her and
+put up with the fact, at first with a certain surprise at her own
+disillusionment and afterwards with indifference. It was not until she
+found that she was about to become a mother that she could bring
+herself to reciprocate his affection. She very soon grew accustomed to
+the quiet life of the little town, all the more easily because even in
+Vienna she had led a somewhat secluded existence. With her husband's
+family she felt quite happy and comfortable; her brother-in-law
+appeared to be a most genial and amiable person, if not altogether
+innocent of an occasional display of coarseness; his wife was
+good-natured, and inclined at times to be melancholy. Garlan's nephew,
+who was thirteen years old at the time of Bertha's arrival at the
+little town, was a pert, good-looking boy; and his niece, a very sedate
+child of nine, with large, astonished eyes, conceived a strong
+attachment for Bertha from the very first moment that they met.
+
+When Bertha's child was born, he was hailed by the children as a welcome
+plaything, and, for the next two years, Bertha felt completely happy. She
+even believed at times that it was impossible that her fate could have
+taken a more favourable shape. The noise and bustle of the great city
+came back to her memory as something unpleasant, almost hazardous; and
+on one occasion when she had accompanied her husband to Vienna, in order
+to make a few purchases and it so chanced, to her annoyance, that the
+streets were wet and muddy with the rain, she vowed never again to
+undertake that tedious and wholly unnecessary journey of three hours'
+duration. Her husband died suddenly one spring morning three years after
+their marriage. Bertha's consternation was extreme. She felt that she had
+never taken into consideration the mere possibility of such an event. She
+was left in very straitened circumstances. Soon, however, her
+sister-in-law, with thoughtful kindness, devised a means by which the
+widow could support herself without appearing to accept anything in the
+nature of charity. She asked Bertha to take over the musical education of
+her children, and also procured for her an engagement as music teacher to
+other families in the town. It was tacitly understood amongst the ladies
+who engaged her that they should always make it appear as if Bertha had
+undertaken these lessons only for the sake of a little distraction, and
+that they paid her for them only because they could not possibly allow
+her to devote so much time and trouble in that way without some return.
+What she earned from this source was quite sufficient to supplement her
+income to an amount adequate to meet the demands of her mode of living,
+and so, when time had deadened the first keen pangs and the subsequent
+sorrow occasioned by her husband's death, she was again quite contented
+and cheerful. Her life up to then had not been spent in such a way as to
+cause her now to feel the lack of anything. Such thoughts as she gave to
+the future were occupied by scarcely any other theme than her son in the
+successive stages of his growth, and it was only on rare occasions that
+the likelihood of marrying a second time crossed her mind, and then the
+idea was always a mere fleeting fancy, for as yet she had met no one whom
+she was able seriously to regard in the light of a possible second
+husband. The stirrings of youthful desires, which she sometimes felt
+within her in her waking morning hours, always vanished as the day
+pursued its even course. It was only since the advent of the spring that
+she had felt a certain disturbance of her previous sensation of
+well-being; no longer were her nights passed in the tranquil and
+dreamless sleep of heretofore, and at times she was oppressed by a
+sensation of tedium, such as she had never experienced before. Strangest
+of all, however, was the sudden access of lassitude which would often
+come over her even in the daytime, under the influence of which she
+fancied that she could trace the course of her blood as it circled
+through her body. She remembered that she had experienced a similar
+sensation in the days when she was emerging from childhood. At first this
+feeling, in spite of its familiarity, was yet so strange to her that it
+seemed as though one of her friends must have told her about it. It was
+only when it recurred with ever-increasing frequency that she realized
+that she herself had experienced it before.
+
+She shuddered, with a feeling as though she were waking from sleep. She
+opened her eyes.
+
+It seemed to her that the air was all a-whirl; the shadows had crept
+halfway across the road; away up on the hilltop the cemetery wall no
+longer gleamed in the sunlight. Bertha rapidly shook her head to and fro
+a few times as though to waken herself thoroughly. It seemed to her as if
+a whole day and a whole night had elapsed since she had sat down on the
+bench. How was it, then, that in her consciousness time passed in so
+disjointed a fashion? She looked around her. Where could Fritz have gone
+to? Oh, there he was behind her, playing with Doctor Friedrich's
+children. The nursemaid was on her knees beside them, helping them to
+build a castle with the sand.
+
+The avenue was now less deserted than it had been earlier in the evening.
+Bertha knew almost all the people who passed; she saw them every day. As,
+however, most of them were not people to whom she was in the habit of
+talking, they flitted by like shadows. Yonder came the saddler, Peter
+Nowak, and his wife; Doctor Rellinger drove by in his little country trap
+and bowed to her as he passed; he was followed by the two daughters of
+Herr Wendelein, the landowner; presently Lieutenant Baier and his
+_fiancee_ cycled slowly down the road on their way to the country. Then,
+again, there seemed to be a short lull in the movement before her and
+Bertha heard nothing but the laughter of the children as they played.
+
+Then, again, she saw that some one was slowly approaching from the town,
+and she recognized who it was while he was still a long way off. It was
+Herr Klingemann, to whom of late she had been in the habit of talking
+more frequently than had previously been her custom. Some twelve years
+ago or more he had moved from Vienna to the little town. Gossip had it
+that he had at one time been a doctor, and had been obliged to give up
+his practice on account of some professional error, or even of some more
+serious lapse. Some, however, asserted that he had never qualified as a
+doctor at all, but, failing to pass his examinations, had finally given
+up the study of medicine. Herr Klingemann, for his own part, gave
+himself out to be a philosopher, who had grown weary of life in the
+great city after having enjoyed it to satiety, and for that reason had
+moved to the little town, where he could live comfortably on what
+remained of his fortune.
+
+He was now but little more than five-and-forty. There were still times
+when he was of a genial enough aspect, but, for the most part, he had an
+extremely dilapidated and disagreeable appearance.
+
+While yet some distance away he smiled at the young widow, but did not
+hasten his steps. Finally he stopped before her and gave her an ironical
+nod, which was his habitual manner of greeting people.
+
+"Good evening, my pretty lady!" he said.
+
+Bertha returned his salutation. It was one of those days on which Herr
+Klingemann appeared to make some claim to elegance and youthfulness. He
+was attired in a dark grey frock coat, so tightly fitting that he might
+almost have been wearing stays. On his head was a narrow brimmed brown
+straw hat with a black band. About his throat, moreover, there was a very
+tiny red cravat, set rather askew.
+
+For a time he remained silent, tugging his slightly grizzled fair
+moustache upwards and downwards.
+
+"I presume you have come from up there, my dear lady?" he said.
+
+Without turning his head or even his eyes, he pointed his finger over his
+shoulder, in a somewhat contemptuous manner, in the direction of the
+cemetery behind him.
+
+Throughout the town Herr Klingemann was known as a man to whom nothing
+was sacred, and as he stood before her, Bertha could not help thinking of
+the various bits of gossip that she had heard about him. It was well
+known that his relations with his cook, whom he always referred to as his
+housekeeper, were of a somewhat more intimate nature than that merely of
+master and servant, and his name was also mentioned in connexion with the
+wife of a tobacconist, who, as he had himself told Bertha with proud
+regret, deceived him with a captain of the regiment stationed in the
+town. Moreover, there were several eligible girls in the neighbourhood
+who cherished a certain tender interest in him.
+
+Whenever these things were hinted at Herr Klingemann always made some
+sneering remark on the subject of marriage in general, which shocked the
+susceptibilities of many, but, on the whole, actually increased the
+amount of respect in which he was held.
+
+"I have been out for a short walk," said Bertha.
+
+"Alone?"
+
+"Oh, no; with my boy."
+
+"Yes--yes--of course, there he is! Good evening, my little mortal!"--he
+gazed away over Fritz's head as he said this--"may I sit down for a
+moment beside you, Frau Bertha?"
+
+He pronounced her name with an ironic inflection and, without waiting for
+her to reply, he sat down on the bench.
+
+"I heard you playing the piano this morning," he continued. "Do you know
+what kind of an impression it made upon me? This: that with you music
+must take the place of everything."
+
+He repeated the word "everything" and, at the same time, looked at Bertha
+in a manner which caused her to blush.
+
+"What a pity I so seldom have the opportunity of hearing you play!" he
+went on. "If I don't happen to be passing your open window when you are
+at the piano--"
+
+Bertha noticed that he kept on edging nearer to her, and that his arm was
+touching hers. Involuntarily she moved away. Suddenly she felt herself
+seized from behind, her head pulled back over the bench and a hand
+clasped over her eyes.
+
+For a moment she thought that it was Klingemann's hand, which she felt
+upon her lids.
+
+"Why, you must be mad, sir," she cried.
+
+"How funny it is to hear you call me 'Sir,' Aunt Bertha!" replied the
+laughing voice of a boy at her back.
+
+"Well, do let me at least open my eyes, Richard," said Bertha, trying to
+remove the boy's hands from her face. "Have you come from home!" she
+added, turning round towards him.
+
+"Yes, Aunt, and here's the newspaper which I have brought you."
+
+Bertha took the paper which he handed to her and began to read it.
+
+Klingemann, meanwhile, rose to his feet and turned to Richard.
+
+"Have you done your exercises already?" he asked.
+
+"We have no exercises at all now, Herr Klingemann, because our final
+examination is to take place in July."
+
+"So you will actually be a student by this time next year?"
+
+"This time next year! It'll be in the autumn!"
+
+As he said this Richard drummed his fingers along the newspaper.
+
+"What do you want, then, you ill-mannered fellow?" asked Bertha.
+
+"I say, Aunt, will you come and visit me when I am in Vienna?"
+
+"Yes, I should like to catch myself! I shall be glad to be rid of you!"
+
+"Here comes Herr Rupius!" said Richard.
+
+Bertha lowered the paper and looked in the direction indicated by her
+nephew's glance. Along the avenue leading from the town a maidservant
+came, pushing an invalid's chair, in which a man was sitting. His head
+was uncovered and his soft felt hat was lying upon his knees, from which
+a plaid rug reached down to his feet. His forehead was lofty; his hair
+smooth and fair and slightly grizzled at the temples; his feet were
+peculiarly large. As he passed the bench on which Bertha was seated he
+only inclined his head slightly, without smiling. Bertha knew that, had
+she been alone, he would certainly have stopped; moreover, he looked only
+at her as he passed by, and his greeting seemed to apply to her alone. It
+seemed to Bertha that she had never before seen such a grave look in his
+eyes as on this occasion, and she was exceedingly sorry, for she felt a
+profound compassion for the paralysed man.
+
+When Herr Rupius had passed by, Klingemann said:
+
+"Poor devil! And wifie is away as usual on one of her visits to
+Vienna, eh?"
+
+"No," answered Bertha, almost angrily. "I was speaking to her only an
+hour ago."
+
+Klingemann was silent, for he felt that further remarks on the subject of
+the mysterious visits of Frau Rupius to Vienna might not have been in
+keeping with his own reputation as a freethinker.
+
+"Won't he really ever be able to walk again?" asked Richard.
+
+"No," said Bertha.
+
+She knew this for a fact because Herr Rupius had told her so himself on
+one occasion when she had called on him and his wife was in Vienna.
+
+At that moment Herr Rupius seemed to her to be a particularly pitiful
+figure, for, as he was being wheeled past her in his invalid's chair, she
+had, in reading the paper, lighted upon the name of one whom she regarded
+as a happy man.
+
+Mechanically she read the paragraph again.
+
+"Our celebrated compatriot Emil Lindbach returned to Vienna a few days
+ago after his professional tour through France and Spain, in the course
+of which he met with many a triumphant reception. In Madrid this
+distinguished artist had the honour of playing before the Queen of Spain.
+On the 24th of this month Herr Lindbach will take part in the charity
+concert which has been organized for the relief of the inhabitants of
+Vorarlberg, who have suffered such severe losses as a result of the
+recent floods. A keen interest in the concert is being shown by the
+public in spite of the fact that the season is so far advanced."
+
+Emil Lindbach! It required a certain effort on Bertha's part to realize
+that this was the same man whom she had loved--how many?--twelve years
+ago. Twelve years! She could feel the hot blood mount up into her brow.
+It seemed to her as though she ought to be ashamed of having gradually
+grown older.
+
+The sun had set. Bertha took Fritz by the hand, bade the others good
+evening, and walked slowly homewards.
+
+She lived on the first floor of a house in a new street. From her windows
+she had a view of the hill, and opposite were only vacant sites.
+
+Bertha handed Fritz over to the care of the maid, sat down by the window,
+took up the paper and began to read again. She had kept the custom of
+glancing through the art news first of all. This habit had been formed in
+the days of her early childhood, when she and her brother, who was now an
+actor, used to go to the top gallery of the Burg-Theater together. Her
+interest in art naturally grew when she attended the conservatoire of
+music; in those days she had been acquainted with the names of even the
+minor actors, singers and pianists. Later on, when her frequent visits to
+the theatres, the studies at the conservatoire and her own artistic
+aspirations came to an end, there still lingered within her a kind of
+sympathy, which was not free from the touch of homesickness, towards that
+joyous world of art. But during the latter portion of her life in Vienna
+all these things had retained scarcely any of their former significance
+for her; just as little, indeed, as they had possessed since she had come
+to reside in the little town, where occasional amateur concerts were the
+best that was offered in the way of artistic enjoyment. One evening
+during the first year of her married life, she had taken part in one of
+these concerts at the "Red Apple" Hotel. She had played two marches by
+Schubert as a duet with another young lady in the town. On that occasion
+her agitation had been so great that she had vowed to herself never again
+to appear in public, and was more than glad that she had given up her
+hopes of an artistic career.
+
+For such a career a very different temperament from hers was
+necessary--for example, one like Emil Lindbach's. Yes, he was born to it!
+She had recognized that by his demeanour the very moment when she had
+first seen him step on to the dais at a school concert. He had smoothed
+back his hair in an unaffected manner, gazed at the people below with
+sardonic superiority, and had acknowledged the first applause which he
+had ever received in the calm, indifferent manner of one long accustomed
+to such things.
+
+It was strange, but whenever she thought of Emil Lindbach she still saw
+him in her mind's eye as youthful, even boyish, just as he had been in
+the days when they had known and loved each other. Yet not so long
+before, when she had spent the evening with her brother-in-law and his
+wife in a restaurant, she had seen a photograph of him in an illustrated
+paper, and he appeared to have changed greatly. He no longer wore his
+hair long; his black moustache was curled downwards; his collar was
+conspicuously tall, and his cravat twisted in accordance with the fashion
+of the day. Her sister-in-law had given her opinion that he looked like a
+Polish count.
+
+Bertha took up the newspaper again and was about to read on, but by that
+time it was too dark. She rose to her feet and called the maid. The lamp
+was brought in and the table laid for supper. Bertha ate her meal with
+Fritz, the window remaining open. That evening she felt an even greater
+tenderness for her child than usual; she recalled once more to memory the
+times when her husband was still alive, and all manner of reminiscences
+passed rapidly through her mind. While she was putting Fritz to bed, her
+glance lingered for quite a long time on her husband's portrait, which
+hung over the bed in an oval frame of dark brown wood. It was a
+full-length portrait; he was wearing a morning coat and a white cravat,
+and was holding his tall hat in his hand. It was all in memory of their
+wedding day.
+
+Bertha knew for a certainty, at that moment, that Herr Klingemann would
+have smiled sarcastically had he seen that portrait.
+
+Later in the evening she sat down at the piano, as was a not infrequent
+custom of hers before going to bed, not so much because of her enthusiasm
+for music, but because she did not want to retire to rest too early. On
+such occasions she played, for the most part, the few pieces which she
+still knew by heart--mazurkas by Chopin, some passages from one of
+Beethoven's sonatas, or the Kreisleriana. Sometimes she improvised as
+well, but never pursued the theme beyond a succession of chords, which,
+indeed, were always the same.
+
+On that evening she began at once by striking those chords, somewhat more
+softly than usual; then she essayed various modulations and, as she made
+the last triad resound for a long time by means of the pedal--her hands
+were now lying in her lap--she felt a gentle joy in the melodies which
+were hovering, as it were, about her. Then Klingemann's observation
+recurred to her.
+
+"With you music must take the place of everything!"
+
+Indeed he had not been far from the truth. Music certainly had to take
+the place of much.
+
+But everything--? Oh, no!
+
+What was that? Footsteps over the way....
+
+Well, there was nothing remarkable in that. But they were slow, regular
+footsteps, as though somebody was passing up and down. She stood up and
+went to the window. It was quite dark, and at first she could not
+recognize the man who was walking outside. But she knew that it was
+Klingemann. How absurd! Was he going to haunt the vicinity like a
+love-sick swain?
+
+"Good evening, Frau Bertha," he said from across the road, and she could
+see in the darkness that he raised his hat.
+
+"Good evening," she answered, almost confusedly.
+
+"You were playing most beautifully."
+
+Her only answer was to murmur "really?" and that perhaps did not
+reach his ears.
+
+He remained standing for a moment, then said:
+
+"Good night, sleep soundly, Frau Bertha."
+
+He pronounced the word "sleep" with an emphasis which was almost
+insolent.
+
+"Now he is going home to his cook!" thought Bertha to herself.
+
+Then suddenly she called to mind something which she had known for quite
+a long time, but to which she had not given a thought since it had come
+to her knowledge. It was rumoured that in his room there hung a picture
+which was always covered with a little curtain because its subject was of
+a somewhat questionable nature.
+
+Who was it had told her about that picture? Oh, yes, Frau Rupius had told
+her when they were taking a walk along the bank of the Danube one day
+last autumn, and she in her turn had heard of it from some one
+else--Bertha could not remember from whom.
+
+What an odious man! Bertha felt that somehow she was guilty of a slight
+depravity in thinking of him and all these things. She continued to stand
+by the window. It seemed to her as though it had been an unpleasant day.
+She went over the actual events in her mind, and was astonished to find
+that, after all, the day had just been like many hundreds before it and
+many, many more that were yet to come.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+
+They stood up from the table. It had been one of those little Sunday
+dinner parties which the wine merchant Garlan was in the habit of
+occasionally giving his acquaintances. The host came up to his
+sister-in-law and caught her round the waist, which was one of his
+customs on an afternoon.
+
+She knew beforehand what he wanted. Whenever he had company Bertha had to
+play the piano after dinner, and often duets with Richard. The music
+served as a pleasant introduction to a game of cards, or, indeed, chimed
+in pleasantly with the game.
+
+She sat down at the piano. In the meantime the door of the smoking-room
+was opened; Garlan, Doctor Friedrich and Herr Martin took their seats at
+a small baize-covered table and began to play. The wives of the three
+gentlemen remained in the drawing-room, and Frau Martin lit a cigarette,
+sat down on the sofa and crossed her legs--on Sundays she always wore
+dress shoes and black silk stockings. Doctor Friedrich's wife looked at
+Frau Martin's feet as though fixed to the spot by enchantment. Richard
+had followed the gentlemen--he already took an interest in a game of
+taroc. Elly stood with her elbows leaning on the piano waiting for Bertha
+to begin to play. The hostess went in and out of the room; she was
+perpetually giving orders in the kitchen, and rattling the bunch of keys
+which she carried in her hand. Once as she came into the room Doctor
+Friedrich's wife threw her a glance which seemed to say: "Just look how
+Frau Martin is sitting there!"
+
+Bertha noticed all those things that day more clearly, as it were, than
+usual, somewhat after the manner in which things are seen by a person
+suffering from fever. She had not as yet struck a note. Then her
+brother-in-law turned towards her and threw her a glance, which was
+intended to remind her of her duty. She began to play a march by
+Schubert, with a very heavy touch.
+
+"Softer," said her brother-in-law, turning round again.
+
+"Taroc with a musical accompaniment is a speciality of this house," said
+Doctor Friedrich.
+
+"Songs without words, so to speak," added Herr Martin.
+
+The others laughed. Garlan turned round towards Bertha again, for she had
+suddenly left off playing.
+
+"I have a slight headache," she said, as if it were necessary to
+make some excuse; immediately, however, she felt as though it were
+beneath her dignity to say that, and she added: "I don't feel any
+inclination to play."
+
+Everybody looked at her, feeling that something rather out of the common
+was happening.
+
+"Won't you come and sit by us, Bertha?" said Frau Garlan.
+
+Elly had a vague idea that she ought to show her affection for her aunt,
+and hung on her arm; and the two of them stood side by side, leaning
+against the piano.
+
+"Are you going with us to the 'Red Apple' this evening?" Frau Martin
+asked of her hostess.
+
+"No, I don't think so."
+
+"Ah," broke in Herr Garlan, "if we must forgo our concert this afternoon
+we will have one in the evening instead--your lead, Doctor."
+
+"The military concert?" asked Doctor Friedrich's wife.
+
+Frau Garlan rose to her feet.
+
+"Do you really mean to go to the 'Red Apple' this evening?" she asked
+her husband.
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"Very well," she answered, somewhat flustered, and at once went off to
+the kitchen again to make fresh arrangements.
+
+"Richard," said Garlan to his son; "you might make haste and run over and
+tell the manager to have a table reserved for us in the garden."
+
+Richard hurried off, colliding in the doorway with his mother, who was
+just coming into the room. She sank down on the sofa as though exhausted.
+
+"You can't believe," she said to Doctor Friedrich's wife; "how difficult
+it is to make Brigitta understand the simplest thing."
+
+Frau Martin had gone and sat down beside her husband, at the same time
+throwing a glance towards Bertha, who was still standing silently with
+Elly beside the piano. Frau Martin stroked her husband's hair, laid her
+hand on his knee and seemed to feel that she was under the necessity of
+showing the company how happy she was.
+
+"I'll tell you what. Aunt," said Elly suddenly to Bertha; "let's go into
+the garden for a while. The fresh air will drive your headache away."
+
+They went down the steps into the courtyard, in the centre of which a
+small lawn had been laid out. At the back, it was shut off by a wall,
+against which stood a few shrubs and a couple of young trees, which still
+had to be propped up by stakes. Away over the wall only the blue sky was
+to be seen; in boisterous weather the rush of the river which flowed
+close by could be heard. Two wicker garden chairs stood with their backs
+against the wall, and in front of them was a small table. Bertha and Elly
+sat down, Elly still keeping her arm linked in her aunt's.
+
+"Tell you what, Elly?"
+
+"See, I am quite a big girl now; do tell me about him."
+
+Bertha was somewhat alarmed, for it struck her at once that her niece's
+question did not refer to her dead husband, but to some one else. And
+suddenly she saw before her mind's eye the picture of Emil Lindbach,
+just as she had seen it in the illustrated paper; but immediately both
+the vision and her slight alarm vanished, and she felt a kind of emotion
+at the shy question of the young girl who believed that she still grieved
+for her dead husband, and that it would comfort her to have an
+opportunity for talking about him.
+
+"May I come down and join you, or are you telling each other secrets?"
+
+Richard's voice came at that moment from a window overlooking the
+courtyard. For the first time Bertha was struck by the resemblance he
+bore to Emil Lindbach. She realized, however, that it might perhaps only
+be the youthfulness of his manner and his rather long hair that put her
+in mind of Emil. Richard was now nearly as old as Emil had been in the
+days of her studies at the conservatoire.
+
+"I've reserved a table," he said as he came into the courtyard. "Are you
+coming with us, Aunt Bertha?"
+
+He sat down on the back of her chair, stroked her cheeks, and said in his
+fresh, yet rather affected, way:
+
+"You will come, won't you, pretty Aunt, for my sake?"
+
+Mechanically Bertha closed her eyes. A feeling of comfort stole over her,
+as if some childish hand, as if the little fingers of her own Fritz, were
+caressing her cheeks. Soon, however, she felt that some other memory as
+well rose up in her mind. She could not help thinking of a walk in the
+town park which she had taken one evening with Emil after her lesson at
+the conservatoire. On that occasion he had sat down to rest beside her on
+a seat, and had touched her cheeks with tender fingers. Was it only once
+that that had happened? No--much oftener! Indeed, they had sat on that
+seat ten or twenty times, and he had stroked her cheeks. How strange it
+was that all these things should come back to her thoughts now!
+
+She would certainly never have thought of those walks again had not
+Richard by chance--but how long was she going to put up with his stroking
+her cheek?
+
+"Richard!" she exclaimed, opening her eyes.
+
+She saw that he was smiling in such a way that she thought that he must
+have divined what was passing through her mind. Of course, it was quite
+impossible, because, as a matter of fact, scarcely anybody in the town
+was aware that she was acquainted with Emil Lindbach, the great
+violinist. If it came to that, was she really acquainted with him still?
+It was indeed a very different person from Emil as he must now be that
+she had in mind--a handsome youth whom she had loved in the days of her
+early girlhood.
+
+Thus her thoughts strayed further and further back into the past, and it
+seemed altogether impossible for her to return to the present and
+chatter with the two children.
+
+She bade them good-bye and went away.
+
+The afternoon sun lay brooding heavily upon the streets of the little
+town. The shops were shut, the pavements almost deserted. A few officers
+were sitting at a little table in front of the restaurant in the market
+square. Bertha glanced up at the windows of the first story of the house
+in which Herr and Frau Rupius lived. It was quite a long time since she
+had been to see them. She clearly remembered the last occasion--it was
+the day after Christmas. It was then that she had found Herr Rupius alone
+and that he had told her that his affliction was incurable. She also
+remembered distinctly why she had not called upon him since that day:
+although she did not admit it to herself, she had a kind of fear of
+entering that house which she had then left with her mind in a state of
+violent agitation.
+
+On the present occasion, however, she felt that she must go up; it seemed
+as though in the course of the last few days a kind of bond had been
+established between her and the paralysed man, and as though even the
+glance with which he had silently greeted her on the previous day, when
+she was out walking, had had some significance.
+
+When she entered the room her eyes had, first of all, to become
+accustomed to the dimness of the light; the blinds were drawn and a
+sunbeam poured in only through the chink at the top, and fell in front
+of the white stove. Herr Rupius was sitting in an armchair at the table
+in the centre of the room. Before him lay stacks of prints, and he was
+just in the act of picking up one in order to look at the one beneath it.
+Bertha could see that they were engravings.
+
+"Thank you for coming to see me once again," he said, stretching out his
+hand to her. "You see what it is I am busy on just now? Well, it is a
+collection of engravings after the old Dutch masters. Believe me, my dear
+lady, it is a great pleasure to examine old engravings."
+
+"Oh, it is, indeed."
+
+"See, there are six volumes, or rather six portfolios, each containing
+twenty prints. It will probably take me the whole summer to become
+thoroughly acquainted with them."
+
+Bertha stood by his side and looked at the engraving immediately before
+him. It was a market scene by Teniers.
+
+"The whole summer," she said absent-mindedly.
+
+Rupius turned towards her.
+
+"Yes, indeed," he said, his jaw slightly set, as though it was a matter
+of vindicating his point of view; "what I call being thoroughly
+acquainted with a picture. By that I mean: being able, so to speak, to
+reproduce it in my mind, line for line. This one here is a Teniers--the
+original is in one of the galleries at The Hague. Why don't you go to
+The Hague, where so many splendid examples of the art of Teniers and so
+many other styles of painting are to be seen, my dear lady?"
+
+Bertha smiled.
+
+"How can I think of making such a journey as that?"
+
+"Yes, yes, of course, that's so," said Herr Rupius; "The Hague is a very
+beautiful town. I was there fourteen years ago. At that time I was
+twenty-eight, I am now forty-two--or, I might say, eighty-four"--he
+picked up the print and laid it aside--"here we have an Ostade--'The Pipe
+Smoker.' Quite so, you can see easily enough that he is smoking a pipe.
+'Original in Vienna.'"
+
+"I think I remember that picture."
+
+"Won't you come and sit opposite to me, Frau Bertha, or here beside me,
+if you would care to look at the pictures with me? Now we come to a
+Falkenborg--wonderful, isn't it? In the extreme foreground, though, it
+seems so void, so cramped. Yes, nothing but a peasant lad dancing with a
+girl, and there's an old woman who is cross about it, and here is a house
+out of the door of which someone is coming with a pail of water. Yes,
+that is all--a mere nothing of course, but there in the background you
+see, is the whole world, blue mountains, green towns, the clouded sky
+above, and near it a tourney--ha! ha!--in a certain sense perhaps it is
+out of place, but, on the other hand, in a certain sense it may be said
+to be appropriate. Since everything has a background and it is therefore
+perfectly right that here, directly behind the peasant's house, the world
+should begin with its tourneys, and its mountains, its rivers, its
+fortresses, its vineyards and its forests."
+
+He pointed out the various parts of the picture to which he was referring
+with a little ivory paper-knife.
+
+"Do you like it?" he continued. "The original also hangs in the Gallery
+in Vienna. You must have seen it."
+
+"Oh, but it is now six years since I lived in Vienna, and for many years
+before that I had not paid a visit to the museum."
+
+"Indeed? I have often walked round the galleries there, and stood before
+this picture, too. Yes, in those earlier days I _walked_."
+
+He was almost laughing as he looked at her, and; her embarrassment was
+such that she could not make any reply.
+
+"I fear I am boring you with the pictures," Herr Rupius went on abruptly.
+"Wait a little; my wife will be home soon. You know, I suppose, that she
+always goes for a two hours walk after dinner now. She is afraid of
+becoming too stout."
+
+"Your wife looks as young and slender as ... well, I don't think she has
+altered in the very least since I have come to live here."
+
+Bertha felt as though Rupius' countenance had grown quite rigid. Then
+suddenly he said, in a gentle tone of voice which was not by any means
+in keeping with the expression of his face:
+
+"A quiet life in a little town such as this keeps me young, of course. It
+was a clever idea of mine and hers, for it occurred simultaneously to
+both of us, to move here. Who can say whether, had we stayed in Vienna,
+it might not have been all over already?"
+
+Bertha could not guess what he meant by the expression "all over";
+whether he was referring to his own life, to his wife's
+youthfulness, or to something else. In any case, she was sorry that
+she had called that day; a feeling of shame at being so strong and
+well herself came over her.
+
+"Did I tell you," continued Rupius, "that it was Anna who got these
+portfolios for me? It was a chance bargain, for the work is usually very
+expensive. A bookseller had advertised it and Anna telegraphed at once
+to her brother to procure it for us. You know, of course, that we have
+many relations in Vienna, both Anna and myself. Sometimes, too, she goes
+there to visit them. Soon after they pay us a return visit. I should be
+very glad indeed to see them again, especially Anna's brother and his
+wife, I owe them a great deal of gratitude. When Anna is in Vienna, she
+dines and sleeps at their house--but, of course, you already know all
+that, Frau Bertha."
+
+He spoke rapidly and, at the same time, in a cool, businesslike tone. It
+sounded as though he had made up his mind to tell the same things to
+every one who should enter the room that day. It was the first time that
+he had as much as spoken to Bertha of the journeys of his wife to Vienna.
+
+"She is going again to-morrow," he continued; "I believe the matter in
+hand this time is her summer costume."
+
+"I think that is a very clever notion of your wife," said Bertha, glad to
+have found an opening for conversation.
+
+"It is cheaper, at the same time," added Herr Rupius. "Yes, I assure you
+it is cheaper even if you throw in the cost of the journey. Why don't you
+follow my wife's example?"
+
+"In that way, Herr Rupius?"
+
+"Why, in regard to your frocks and hats! You are young and pretty, too!"
+
+"Heavens above! On whose account should I dress smartly?"
+
+"On whose account! On whose account is it that my wife dresses so
+smartly?"
+
+The door opened and Frau Rupius entered in a bright spring costume, a red
+sunshade in her hand and a white straw hat, trimmed with red ribbon, on
+her dark hair, which was dressed high. A pleasant smile was hovering
+around her lips, as usual, and she greeted Bertha with a quiet
+cheerfulness.
+
+"Are you making an appearance in our house once more?" she said, handing
+her sunshade and hat to the maid, who had followed her into the room.
+
+"Are you also interested in pictures, Frau Garlan?"
+
+She went up close behind her husband and softly passed her hand over his
+forehead and hair.
+
+"I was just telling Frau Garlan," said Rupius, "how surprised I am that
+she never goes to Vienna."
+
+"Indeed," Frau Rupius put in; "why don't you do so? Moreover, you must
+certainly have some acquaintances there, too. Come with me one
+day--to-morrow, for example. Yes, to-morrow."
+
+Rupius gazed straight before him while his wife said this, as though he
+did not dare to look at her.
+
+"You are really very kind, Frau Rupius," said Bertha, feeling as though a
+perfect stream of joy was coursing through her being.
+
+She wondered, too, how it was that all this time the possibility of
+making such a journey had not once entered her mind, the more so as it
+could be accomplished with so little trouble. It appeared to her at
+that moment that such a journey might be a remedy for the strange
+sense of dissatisfaction under which she had been suffering during the
+past few days.
+
+"Well, do you agree, Frau Garlan?"
+
+"I don't really know--I daresay I could spare the time, for I have only
+one lesson to give tomorrow at my sister-in-law's, and she, of course,
+won't be too exacting; but wouldn't I be putting you to some
+inconvenience?"
+
+A slight shadow flitted across Frau Rupius' brow.
+
+"Putting me to inconvenience! Whatever are you dreaming of! I shall be
+very glad to have pleasant company during the few hours of the journey
+there and back. And in Vienna--oh, we shall be sure to have much to do
+together in Vienna."
+
+"Your husband," said Bertha, blushing like a girl who is speaking of her
+first ball, "has told me ... has advised me ..."
+
+"Surely, he has been raving to you about my dressmaker," said Frau
+Rupius, laughing.
+
+Rupius still sat motionless in his chair and looked at neither of them.
+
+"Yes, I should really like to ask you about her, Frau Rupius. When
+I see you I feel as if I should like to be well dressed again, just
+as you are."
+
+"That is easily arranged," said Frau Rupius. "I will take you to my
+dressmaker, and by so doing I hope also to have the pleasure of your
+company on my subsequent visits. I am glad for your sake as well," she
+said to her husband, touching his hand which was lying on the table. Then
+she turned to Bertha and added: "and for yours. You will see how much
+good it will do you. Wandering about the streets without being known to a
+soul has a wonderful effect on one's spirits. I do it from time to time,
+and I always come back quite refreshed and--" in saying this she threw a
+sidelong glance, full of anxiety and tenderness, in the direction of her
+husband--"and then I am as happy here as ever it is possible to be;
+happier, I believe, than any other woman in the world."
+
+She drew near her husband and kissed him on the temple. Bertha heard her
+say in a soft voice, as she did so:
+
+"Dearest!"
+
+Rupius, however, continued to stare before him as though he shrank from
+meeting his wife's glance.
+
+Both were silent and seemed to be absorbed in themselves, as though
+Bertha was not in the room. Bertha comprehended vaguely that there was
+some mysterious factor in the relations of these two people, but what
+that factor was she was not clever, or not experienced, or not good
+enough to understand. For a whole minute the silence continued, and
+Bertha was so embarrassed that she would gladly have gone away had it
+not been necessary to arrange with Frau Rupius the details of the
+morrow's journey.
+
+Anna was the first to speak.
+
+"So then it is agreed that we are to meet at the railway station in time
+for the morning train--isn't it? And I will arrange matters so that we
+return home by the seven o'clock train in the evening. In eight hours,
+you see, it is possible to get through a good deal."
+
+"Certainly," said Bertha; "provided, of course, that you are not
+inconveniencing yourself on my account in the slightest degree."
+
+Anna interrupted her, almost angrily.
+
+"I have already told you how glad I am that you will be travelling
+with me, the more so as there is not a woman in the town so congenial
+to me as you."
+
+"Yes," said Herr Rupius, "I can corroborate that. You know, of course,
+that my wife is on visiting terms with hardly anybody here--and as it has
+been such a long time since you came to see us I was beginning to fear
+that she was going to lose you as well."
+
+"However could you have thought such a thing? My dear Herr Rupius! And
+you, Frau Rupius, surely you haven't believed--"
+
+At that moment Bertha felt an overwhelming love for both of them. Her
+emotion was such that she detected her voice to be assuming an almost
+tearful tone.
+
+Frau Rupius smiled, a strange, deliberate smile.
+
+"I haven't believed anything. As a matter of fact there are some things
+over which I do not generally ponder for long. I have no great need of
+friends, but you, Frau Bertha, I really and truly love."
+
+She stretched out her hand to her. Bertha cast a glance at Rupius. It
+seemed to her that an expression of contentment should now be observable
+on his features. To her amazement, however, she saw that he was gazing
+into the corner of the room with an almost terrified look in his eyes.
+
+The parlourmaid came in with some coffee. Further particulars as to their
+plans for the morrow were discussed, and finally they drew up a tolerably
+exact time-table which, to Frau Rupius' slight amusement, Bertha entered
+in a little notebook.
+
+When Bertha reached the street again, the sky had become overcast, and
+the increasing sultriness foretold the approach of a thunderstorm. The
+first large drops were falling before she reached home, and she was
+somewhat alarmed when, on going upstairs, she failed to find the servant
+and little Fritz. As she went up to the window, however, in order to shut
+it, she saw the two come running along. The first thunderclap crashed
+out, and she started back in terror. Then immediately came a brilliant
+flash of lightning.
+
+The storm was brief, but unusually violent. Bertha went and sat on her
+bed, held Fritz on her lap, and told him a story, so that he should not
+be frightened. But, at the same time, she felt as though there was a
+certain connexion between her experiences of the past two days and the
+thunderstorm.
+
+In half an hour all was over. Bertha opened the window; the air was now
+fresh, the darkening sky was clear and distant. Bertha drew a deep
+breath, and a feeling of peace and hope seemed to permeate her being.
+
+It was time to get ready for the concert in the gardens. On her
+arrival she found her friends already gathered at a large table
+beneath a tree. It was Bertha's intention to tell her sister-in-law at
+once about her proposed visit to Vienna on the morrow, but a sense of
+shyness, as though there was something underhand in the journey,
+caused her to refrain.
+
+Herr Klingemann went by with his housekeeper towards their table. The
+housekeeper was getting on towards middle-age; she was a very voluptuous
+looking woman, taller than Klingemann, and, when she walked, always
+appeared to be asleep. Klingemann bowed towards them with exaggerated
+politeness. The gentlemen scarcely acknowledged the salutation, and the
+ladies pretended not to have noticed it. Only Bertha nodded slightly and
+gazed after the couple.
+
+"That is his sweetheart--yes, I know it for a positive fact," whispered
+Richard, who was sitting near his aunt.
+
+Herr Garlan's party ate, drank and applauded. At times various
+acquaintances came over from other tables, sat down with them for awhile,
+and then went away again to their places. The music murmured around
+Bertha without making any impression on her. Her mind was continuously
+occupied with the question as to how to inform them of her project.
+
+Suddenly, while the music was playing very loudly, she said to Richard:
+
+"I say, I won't be able to give you a music lesson to-morrow. I am going
+to Vienna."
+
+"To Vienna!" exclaimed Richard; then he called across to his mother; "I
+say, Aunt Bertha is going to Vienna to-morrow!"
+
+"Who's going to Vienna?" asked Garlan, who was sitting furthest away.
+
+"I am," answered Bertha.
+
+"What's this! What's this!" said Garlan, playfully threatening her with
+his finger.
+
+So, then, it was accomplished. Bertha was glad. Richard made jokes
+about the people who were sitting in the garden, also about the fat
+bandmaster who was always skipping about while he was conducting, and
+then about the trumpet-player whose cheeks bulged out and who seemed to
+be shedding tears when he blew into his instrument. Bertha could not
+help laughing very heartily. Jests were bandied about her high spirits
+and Doctor Friedrich remarked that she must surely be going to some
+rendezvous at Vienna.
+
+"I should like to put a stop to that, though!" exclaimed Richard, so
+angrily that the hilarity became general.
+
+Only Elly remained serious, and gazed at her aunt in downright
+astonishment.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+
+Bertha looked out through the open carriage window upon the landscape:
+Frau Rupius read a book, which she had taken out of her little
+traveling-bag very soon after the train had started. It almost appeared
+as though she wished to avoid any lengthy conversation with Bertha, and
+the latter felt somewhat hurt. For a long time past she had been
+cherishing a wish to be a friend of Frau Rupius, but since the previous
+day this desire of hers had become almost a yearning, which recalled to
+her mind the whole-hearted devotion of the friendships of the days of her
+childhood.
+
+At first, therefore, she had felt quite unhappy, and had a sensation of
+having been abandoned, but soon the changing panorama to be seen through
+the window began to distract her thoughts in an agreeable manner. As she
+looked at the rails which seemed to run to meet her, at the hedges and
+telegraph poles which glided and leaped past her, she recalled to mind
+the few short journeys to the Salzkammergut, where she had been taken,
+when a child, by her parents, and the indescribable pleasure of having
+been allowed to occupy a corner seat on those occasions. Then she looked
+into the distance and exulted in the gleaming of the river, in the
+pleasant windings of the hills and meadows, in the azure of the sky and
+in the white clouds.
+
+After a time Anna laid down the book, and began to chat to Bertha and
+smiled at her, as though at a child.
+
+"Who would have foretold this of us?" said Frau Rupius.
+
+"That we should be going to Vienna together?"
+
+"No, no, I mean that we shall both--how shall I express it?--pass or end
+our lives yonder"--she gave a slight nod in the direction of the place
+from which they came.
+
+"Very true, indeed!" answered Bertha, who had not yet considered whether
+there was anything really strange in the fact or not.
+
+"Well, you, of course, knew it the moment you were married, but I--"
+
+Frau Rupius gazed straight before her.
+
+"So then your move to the little town," said Bertha, "did not take place
+until--until--"
+
+She broke off in confusion.
+
+"Yes, you know that, of course."
+
+In saying this Frau Rupius looked Bertha full in the face as if
+reproaching her for her question. But when she continued to speak
+she smiled gently, as though her thoughts were not occupied by
+anything so sad.
+
+"Yes, I never imagined that I should leave Vienna; my husband had his
+position as a government official, and indeed he would certainly have
+been able to remain longer there, in spite of his infirmity, had he not
+wanted to go away at once."
+
+"He thought, perhaps, that the fresh air, the quiet--" began Bertha, and
+she at once perceived that she was not saying anything very sensible.
+
+Nevertheless Anna answered her quite affably.
+
+"Oh, no, neither rest nor climate could do him any good, but he thought
+that it would be better for both of us in every way. He was right,
+too--what should we have been able to do if we had remained in the city?"
+
+Bertha felt that Anna was not telling her the whole story and she would
+have liked to beg her not to hesitate, but to open her whole heart to
+her. She knew, however, that she was not clever enough to express such a
+request in the right words. Then, as though Frau Rupius had guessed that
+Bertha was anxious to learn more, she quickly changed the subject of
+their conversation. She asked Bertha about her brother-in-law, the
+musical talent of her pupils, and her method of teaching; then she took
+up the novel again and left Bertha to herself.
+
+Once she looked up from the book and said:
+
+"You haven't brought anything with you to read, then?"
+
+"Oh, yes," answered Bertha.
+
+She suddenly remembered that she had bought a newspaper; she took it up
+and turned over the pages assiduously. The train drew near to Vienna.
+Frau Rupius closed her book and put it in the travelling-bag. She looked
+at Bertha with a certain tenderness, as at a child who must soon be sent
+away alone to meet an uncertain destiny.
+
+"Another quarter of an hour," she remarked; "and we shall be--well, I
+very nearly said, home."
+
+Before them lay the town. On the far side of the river chimneys towered
+up aloft, rows of tall yellow painted houses stretched away into the
+distance, and steeples ascended skywards. Everything lay basking in the
+gentle sunlight of May.
+
+Bertha's heart throbbed. She experienced a sensation such as might come
+over a traveller returning after a long absence to a longed-for home,
+which had probably altered greatly in the meantime, and where surprises
+and mysteries of all kinds awaited him. At the moment when the train
+rolled into the station she seemed almost courageous in her own eyes.
+
+Frau Rupius took a carriage, and they drove into the town. As they passed
+the Ring, Bertha suddenly leaned out of the window and gazed after a
+young man whose figure and walk reminded her of Emil Lindbach. She wished
+that the young man would turn round, but she lost sight of him without
+his having done so.
+
+The carriage stopped before a house in the Kohlmarkt. The two ladies got
+out and made their way to the third floor, where the dressmaker's
+workroom was situated. While Frau Rupius tried on her new costume,
+Bertha had various materials displayed to her from which she made a
+choice. The assistant took her measure, and it was arranged that Bertha
+should call in a week's time to be fitted. Frau Rupius came out from the
+adjoining room and recommended that particular care should be given to
+her friend's order.
+
+It seemed to Bertha that everybody was looking at her in a rather
+disparaging, almost compassionate manner, and, on looking at herself in
+the large pier glass she suddenly perceived that she was very tastelessly
+dressed. What on earth had put it into her head to attire herself on this
+occasion in the provincial Sunday-best, instead of in one of the simple
+plain dresses she usually wore? She grew crimson with shame. She had on a
+black and white striped foulard costume, which was three years out of
+date, so far as its cut was concerned, and a bright-coloured hat, trimmed
+with roses and turned up at an extravagant angle in front, which seemed
+to weigh heavily upon her dainty figure and made her appear almost
+ridiculous.
+
+Then, as if her own conviction needed further confirmation by some word
+of consolation, Frau Rupius said, as they went down the stairs:
+
+"You are looking lovely!"
+
+They stood in the doorway.
+
+"What shall be done now?" asked Frau Rupius. "What do you propose?"
+
+"Will you then ... I ... I mean ..."
+
+Bertha was quite frightened; she felt as though she was being
+turned adrift.
+
+Frau Rupius looked at her with kindly commiseration.
+
+"I think," she said, "that you are going to pay a visit to your cousin
+now, are you not? I suppose that you will be asked to stay to dinner."
+
+"Agatha will be sure to invite me to dine with her."
+
+"I will accompany you as far as your cousin's, if you would like me to;
+then I will go to my brother and, if possible, I will call for you at
+three in the afternoon."
+
+Together they walked through the most crowded streets of the central part
+of the town and looked at the shop windows. At first Bertha found the din
+somewhat confusing; afterwards, however, she found it more pleasant than
+otherwise. She gazed at the passers-by and took great pleasure in
+watching the well-groomed men and smartly-attired ladies. Almost all the
+people seemed to be wearing new clothes, and it seemed to her they all
+looked much happier than the people at home.
+
+Presently she stopped before the window of a picture-dealer's shop and
+immediately her eyes fell on a familiar portrait; it was the same one of
+Emil Lindbach as had appeared in the illustrated paper, Bertha was as
+delighted as if she had met an acquaintance.
+
+"I know that man," she said to Frau Rupius.
+
+"Whom?"
+
+"That man there"--she pointed with her finger at the photograph--"what do
+you think? I used to attend the conservatoire at the same time he did!"
+
+"Really?" said Frau Rupius.
+
+Bertha looked at her and observed that she had not paid the slightest
+attention to the portrait, but was thinking of something else. Bertha,
+however, was glad of that, for it seemed to her that there had been too
+much warmth lurking in her voice.
+
+All at once a gentle thrill of pride stirred within her at the thought
+that the man whose portrait hung there in the shop window had been in
+love with her in the days of his youth, and had kissed her. She walked on
+with a sensation of inward contentment. After a short time they reached
+her cousin's house on the Riemerstrasse.
+
+"So it's settled then," she said; "you will call for me at three o'clock,
+won't you?"
+
+"Yes," replied Frau Rupius; "that is to say--but if I should be a little
+late, do not on any account wait for me at your cousin's any longer than
+you want to. In any case, this much is settled: we will both be at the
+railway station at seven o'clock this evening. Good-bye for the present."
+
+She shook hands with Bertha and hurried away.
+
+Bertha gazed after her in surprise. Once more she felt forlorn, just as
+she had done in the train when Frau Rupius had read the novel.
+
+Then she went up the two flights of stairs. She had not sent her cousin
+word as to her visit, and she was a little afraid that her arrival might
+be somewhat inopportune. She had not seen Agatha for many years, and they
+had exchanged letters only at very rare intervals.
+
+Agatha received her without either surprise or cordiality, as though it
+was only the day before that they had seen each other for the last time.
+A smile had been playing around Bertha's lips--the smile of those who
+think that they are about to give some one else a surprise--she repressed
+it immediately.
+
+"Well, you are not a very frequent visitor, I must say!" said Agatha,
+"and you never let us have a word from you."
+
+"But, Agatha, you know it was your turn to write; you have been owing me
+a letter these last three months."
+
+"Really!" replied Agatha. "Well, you'll have to excuse me; you can
+imagine what a lot of work three children mean. Did I write and tell you
+that Georg goes to school now?"
+
+Agatha took her cousin into the nursery, where Georg and his two little
+sisters were just having their dinner given them by the
+nursery-governess. Bertha asked them a few questions, but the children
+were very shy, and the younger girl actually began to cry.
+
+"Do beg Aunt Bertha to bring Fritz with her next time she comes," said
+Agatha to Georg at length.
+
+It struck Bertha how greatly her cousin had aged during the last few
+years. Indeed, when she bent down to the children Agatha appeared almost
+like an old woman; and yet she was only a year older than Bertha, as the
+latter knew.
+
+By the time they had returned to the dining-room they had already told
+each other all that they had to say, and when Agatha invited Bertha to
+stay to dinner, it seemed that she spoke only for the mere sake of making
+some remark. Bertha accepted the invitation, nevertheless, and her cousin
+went into the kitchen to give some orders.
+
+Bertha gazed around the room, which was furnished economically and in bad
+taste. It was very dark, for the street was extremely narrow. She took up
+an album which was lying on the table. She found hardly any but familiar
+faces in it. At the very beginning were the portraits of Agatha's
+parents, who had died long ago; then came those of her own parents and of
+her brothers, of whom she scarcely ever heard; portraits of friends whom
+they both had known in earlier days, and of whom she now knew hardly
+anything; and, finally, there was a photograph, the existence of which
+she had long forgotten. It was one of herself and Agatha together, and
+had been taken when they were quite young girls. In those days they had
+been very much alike in appearance, and had been great friends. Bertha
+could remember many of the confidential chats which they had had
+together in the days of their girlhood.
+
+And that lovely creature there with the looped plaits was now almost an
+old woman! And what of herself? What reason had she, then, for still
+looking upon herself as a young woman? Did she not, perhaps, appear to
+others as old as Agatha had seemed to her? She resolved that, in the
+afternoon, she would take notice of the glances which passers-by bestowed
+upon her. It would be terrible if she really did look as old as her
+cousin! No, the idea was utterly ridiculous! She called to mind how her
+nephew, Richard always called her his "pretty aunt," how Klingemann had
+walked to and fro outside her window the other evening--and even the
+recollection of her brother-in-law's attentions reassured her. And, when
+she looked in the mirror which was hanging opposite to her, she saw two
+bright eyes gazing at her from a smooth, fresh face--they were her face
+and her eyes.
+
+When Agatha came into the room again Bertha began to talk of the far-away
+years of their childhood, but it seemed that Agatha had forgotten all
+about those early days, as though marriage, motherhood and week-day cares
+had obliterated both youth and its memories. When Bertha went on to speak
+of a students' dance they had both attended, of the young men who had
+courted Agatha, and of a bouquet which some unknown lover had once sent
+her, Agatha at first smiled rather absent-mindedly, then she looked at
+Bertha and said:
+
+"Just fancy you still remembering all those foolish things!"
+
+Agatha's husband came home from his Government office. He had grown very
+grey since Bertha had last seen him. At first sight he did not appear to
+recognize Bertha, then he mistook her for another lady, and excused
+himself by remarking that he had a very bad memory for faces. At dinner
+he affected to be smart, he inquired in a certain superior way about the
+affairs of the little town, and wondered, jestingly, whether Bertha was
+not thinking of marrying again. Agatha also took part in this bantering,
+although, at the same time, she occasionally glanced reprovingly at her
+husband, who was trying to give the conversation a frivolous turn.
+
+Bertha felt ill at ease. Later on she gathered from some words of
+Agatha's husband that they were expecting another addition to their
+family. Usually Bertha felt sympathy for women in such circumstances, but
+in this case the news created an almost unpleasant impression upon her.
+Moreover there was not a trace of love to be discerned in the tone of the
+husband's voice when he referred to it, but rather a kind of foolish
+pride on the score of an accomplished duty. He spoke of the matter as
+though it was a special act of kindness on his part that, in spite of the
+fact that he was a busy man, and Agatha was no longer beautiful, he
+condescended to spend his time at home. Bertha had an impression that
+she was being mixed up in some sordid affair which did not concern her in
+the least. She was glad when, as soon as he had finished his dinner, the
+husband went off--it was his custom, "his only vice," as he said with a
+smile, to play billiards at the restaurant for an hour after dinner.
+
+Bertha and Agatha were left together.
+
+"Yes," said Agatha, "I've got that to look forward to again."
+
+Thereupon she began, in a cold, businesslike way, to talk about her
+previous confinements, with a candour and lack of modesty which seemed
+all the more remarkable because they had become such strangers. While
+Agatha was continuing the relation of her experiences, however, the
+thought suddenly passed through Bertha's mind that it must be glorious to
+have a child by a husband whom one loved.
+
+She ceased to pay attention to her cousin's unpleasant talk; and her
+thoughts were only occupied by the infinite yearning for motherhood
+which had often come over her when she was quite a young girl, and she
+called to mind an occasion when that yearning had been more keen than it
+had ever been, either before or after. This had happened one evening
+when Emil Lindbach had accompanied her home from the conservatoire, her
+hand clasped in his. She still remembered how her head had begun to
+swim, and that at one moment she had understood what the phrase meant
+which she had sometimes read in novels: "He could have done with her
+just as he liked."
+
+Then she noticed that it had grown quite silent in the room, and that
+Agatha was leaning back in the corner of the sofa, apparently asleep. It
+was three by the clock. How tiresome it was that Frau Rupius had not yet
+arrived! Bertha went to the window and looked out into the street. Then
+she turned towards Agatha, who had again opened her eyes. Bertha quickly
+tried to begin a fresh conversation, and told her about the new costume
+which she had ordered in the forenoon, but Agatha was too sleepy even to
+answer. Bertha had no wish to put her cousin out, and took her departure.
+She decided to wait for Frau Rupius in the street. Agatha seemed very
+pleased when Bertha got ready to go. She became more cordial than she had
+been at any time during her cousin's visit, and said at the door, as if
+struck by some brilliant idea:
+
+"How the time does pass! I do hope you'll come and see us again soon."
+
+Bertha, as she stood before the door of the house, realized that she was
+waiting for Frau Rupius in vain. There was no doubt that it had been the
+latter's intention from the beginning to spend the afternoon without her.
+Of course, it did not necessarily follow that there was anything wicked
+in it; as a matter of fact there was nothing wicked in it, but it hurt
+Bertha to think that Anna had so little trust in her.
+
+She walked along with no fixed purpose. She had still more than three
+hours to while away before she was to be at the station. At first, she
+took a walk in the inner town, which she had passed through in the
+morning. It was really a pleasant thing to wander about unobserved like
+this, as a stranger in the crowd. It was long since she had experienced
+that pleasure. Some of the men who passed her glanced at her with
+interest, and more than one, indeed, stopped to gaze after her. She
+regretted that she was dressed to so little advantage, and rejoiced at
+the prospect of obtaining soon the beautiful costume she had ordered
+from the Viennese dressmaker. She would have liked to find some one
+following her.
+
+Suddenly the thought passed through her mind: would Emil Lindbach
+recognize her if she were to meet him? What a question! Such things never
+happened, of course. No, she was quite sure that she could wander about
+Vienna the whole day long without ever meeting him. How long was it since
+she had seen him? Seven--eight years.... Yes, the last time she had met
+him was two years before her marriage. She had been with her parents one
+warm summer evening in the Schweitzerhaus on the Prater; he had gone by
+with a friend and had stopped a few minutes at their table. Ah, and now
+she remembered also that amongst the company at their table there had
+been the young doctor who was courting her. She had forgotten what Emil
+had said on that occasion, but she remembered that he had held his hat
+in his hand during the whole time he was standing before her, which had
+afforded her inexpressible delight. Would he do the same now, she thought
+to herself, if she were to meet him?
+
+Where was he living now, she wondered. In the old days he had a room on
+the Weiden, near St. Paul's Church.... Yes, he had pointed out the window
+as they passed one day, and had ventured, as they did so, to make a
+certain remark--she had forgotten the exact words, but there was no doubt
+that they had been to the effect that he and she ought to be in that room
+together. She had rebuked him very severely for saying such a thing; she
+had even gone the length of telling him that if that was the sort of girl
+he thought she was, all was over between them. And, in fact, he had never
+spoken another word on the subject.
+
+Would she recognize the window again? Would she find it? It was all the
+same to her, of course, whether she went for a walk in this direction or
+that. She hurried towards the Weiden as though she had suddenly found an
+object for her walk. She was amazed at the complete change which had come
+over the neighbourhood. When she looked down from the Elizabeth Bridge
+she saw walls that rose from the bed of the Wien, half finished tracks,
+little trucks moving to and fro, and busy workmen. Soon she reached St.
+Paul's Church by the same road as she had so often followed in the old
+days. But then she came to a standstill; she was absolutely at a loss to
+remember where Emil had lived--whether she had to turn to the right or to
+the left. It was strange how completely it had escaped her memory. She
+walked slowly back as far as the Conservatoire, then she stood still.
+Above her were the windows from which she had so often gazed upon the
+dome of St. Charles' Church, and longingly awaited the end of the lesson
+so that she might meet Emil. How great had been her love for him, indeed;
+and how strange it was that it should have died so completely!
+
+And now, when she had returned to these scenes, she was a widow, had
+been so for years, and had a child at home who was growing up. If she
+had died, Emil would never have heard of it, or perhaps not until years
+afterwards. Her eyes fell on a large placard fixed on the entrance,
+gates of the Conservatoire. It was an announcement of the concert at
+which he was going to play, and there was his name appearing among a
+number of other great ones, many of which she had long since admired
+with gentle awe.
+
+"BRAHMS VIOLIN CONCERTO--EMIL LINDBACH, VIOLINIST TO THE COURT OF
+BAVARIA."
+
+"Violinist to the Court of Bavaria!"--she had never heard anything about
+that before.
+
+Gazing up at his name, which stood out in glittering letters, it seemed
+to her as though the next moment Emil himself might come out through the
+gate, his violin case in his hand, a cigarette between his lips. Of a
+sudden it all seemed so near, and nearer still when all at once from the
+windows above came floating down the long-drawn notes of a violin, just
+as she had so often heard in the old days.
+
+She thought she would like to come to Vienna for that concert--yes, even
+if she should be obliged to spend the night at an hotel! And she would
+take a seat right in front and see him quite close at hand. She wondered
+whether he, in his turn, would see her, and, if so, whether he would
+recognize her. She remained standing before the yellow placard, wholly
+absorbed in thought, until she felt that some young people coming out of
+the Conservatoire were staring at her and then she realized that she had
+been smiling to herself the whole time, as if lost in a pleasant dream.
+
+She proceeded to walk on. The district around the town-park had also
+changed, and, when she sought the places where she and Emil had often
+been for walks together, she found that they had quite' disappeared.
+Trees had been felled, boardings barred the way, the ground had been dug
+up, and in vain she tried to find the seat where she and Emil had
+exchanged words of love, the tone of which she remembered so well without
+being able to recall the actual phrases.
+
+Presently she reached the trim well-kept part of the park, which was
+full of people. But she had a sensation that many were looking at her,
+and that some ladies were laughing at her. And once more she felt that
+she was looking very countrified. She was vexed at being embarrassed, and
+thought of the time when, as a pretty young girl, she had walked, proud
+and unconcerned, along these very avenues. It seemed to her that she had
+fallen off so much since then, and become so pitiable. Her idea of
+sitting in the front row of the concert hall appeared presumptuous,
+almost unfeasible. It seemed also highly improbable now that Emil
+Lindbach would recognize her; indeed, it struck her as almost impossible
+that he should remember her existence. What a number of experiences he
+must have had! How many women and girls might well have loved him--and in
+a manner quite different from her own!
+
+And whilst she continued her way, walking, now along the less frequented
+avenues and at length out of the park upon the Ringstrasse again, she
+drew a mental picture of the beloved of her youth figuring in all manner
+of adventures, in which confused recollections of events depicted in the
+novels she had read and indistinctly formed ideas of his professional
+tours were strangely intermingled. She imagined him in Venice with a
+Russian princess in a gondola; then in her mind's eye she saw him at the
+court of the King of Bavaria, where duchesses listened to his playing,
+and fell in love with him; then in the boudoir of an opera singer; then
+at a fancy-dress ball in Spain, with crowds of alluring masqueraders
+about him. The further he seemed to soar away, unapproachable and
+enviable, the more miserable she felt herself to be, and all at once it
+seemed utterly inconceivable that she had so lightly surrendered her own
+hopes of an artistic career and given up her lover, in order to lead a
+sunless existence, and to be lost in the crowd. A shudder seemed to seize
+her as she recalled that she was nothing but the widow of an
+insignificant man, that she lived in a provincial town, that she earned
+her living by means of music lessons, and that she saw old age slowly
+approaching. Never had there fallen upon her way so much as a single ray
+of the brilliance which shone upon the road his footsteps would tread so
+long as he lived. And again the same shudder ran through her at the
+thought that she had always been content with her lot, and that, without
+hope and indeed, without yearning, she had passed her whole existence in
+a gloom, which, at that moment, seemed inexplicable.
+
+She reached the Aspernbrueke without in the least giving heed to where her
+footsteps were taking her. She wished to cross the street at this point,
+but had to wait while a great number of carriages drove by. Most of them
+were occupied by gentlemen, many of whom carried field-glasses. She knew
+that they were returning from the races at the Prater.
+
+There came an elegant equipage in which were seated a young man and a
+girl, the latter dressed in a white spring costume. Immediately behind
+was a carriage containing two strikingly dressed ladies. Bertha gazed
+long after them, and noticed that one of the ladies turned round, and
+that the object of her attention was the carriage which followed
+immediately behind, and in which sat a young and very handsome man in a
+long grey overcoat. Bertha was conscious of something very
+painful--uneasiness and annoyance at one and the same time. She would
+have liked to be the lady whom the young man followed; she would have
+liked to be beautiful, young, independent, and, Heaven knows, she would
+have liked to be any woman who could do as she wanted, and could turn
+round after men who pleased her.
+
+And at that moment she realized, quite distinctly, that Frau Rupius was
+now in the company of somebody whom she loved. Indeed why shouldn't she?
+Of course, so long as she stayed in Vienna, she was free and mistress of
+her own time--besides, she was a very pretty woman, and was wearing a
+fragrant violet costume. On her lips there hovered a smile such as only
+comes to those who are happy--and Frau Rupius was unhappy at home. All at
+once, Bertha had a vision of Herr Rupius sitting in his room, looking at
+the engravings. But on that day, surely, he was not doing so; no, he was
+trembling for his wife, consumed with an immense fear that some one
+yonder in the great city would take her away from him, that she would
+never return, and that he would be left all alone with his sorrow. And
+Bertha suddenly felt a thrill of compassion for him, such as she had
+never experienced before. Indeed, she would have liked to be with him, to
+comfort and to reassure him.
+
+She felt a touch on her arm. She started and looked up. A young man
+was standing beside her and gazing at her with an impudent leer. She
+stared at him, full in the face, still quite absentmindedly; then he
+said with a laugh:
+
+"Well?"
+
+She was frightened, and almost ran across the street, quickly passing in
+front of a carriage. She was ashamed of her previous desire to be the
+lady in the carriage she had seen coming from the Prater. It seemed as
+though the man's insolence had been her punishment. No, no, she was a
+respectable woman; in the depth of her soul she had an aversion to
+everything that savoured of the insolent.... No, she could no longer
+stay in Vienna, where women were exposed to such things! A longing for
+the peace of her home came over her, and she rejoiced in the prospect of
+meeting her little boy again, as in something extraordinarily beautiful.
+
+What time was it, though? Heavens, a quarter of seven! She would have to
+take a carriage; there was no question about that now, indeed! Frau
+Rupius had, of course, paid for the carriage in the morning, and so the
+one which she was now going to take would only cost her half, so to
+speak. She took her seat in an open cab, leaned back in the corner, in
+almost the same aristocratic manner as that of the lady she had seen in
+the white frock. People gazed after her. She knew that she was now
+looking young and pretty. Moreover, she was feeling quite safe, nothing
+could happen to her. She took an indescribable pleasure in the swift
+motion of the cab with its rubber-tyred wheels. She thought how splendid
+it would be if on the occasion of her next visit she were to drive
+through the town, wearing her new costume and the small straw hat which
+made her look so young.
+
+She was glad that Frau Rupius was standing in the entrance to the
+station and saw her arrive. But she betrayed no sign of pride, and acted
+as though it was quite the usual thing for her to drive up to the
+station in a cab.
+
+"We have still ten minutes to spare," said Frau Rupius. "Are you very
+angry with me for having kept you waiting? Just fancy, my brother was
+giving a grand children's party to-day, and the little ones simply
+wouldn't let me go. It occurred to me too late that I might really have
+called for you; the children would have amused you so much. I have told
+my brother that, next time, I will bring you and your boy with me."
+
+Bertha felt heartily ashamed of herself. How she had wronged this woman
+again! She could only press her hand and say:
+
+"Thank you, you are very kind!"
+
+They went on to the platform and entered an empty compartment. Frau
+Rupius had a small bag of cherries in her hand, and she ate them slowly,
+one after another, throwing the stones out of the window. When the train
+began to move out of the station she leaned back and closed her eyes.
+Bertha looked out of the window; she felt very tired after so much
+walking, and a slight uneasiness arose within her; she might have spent
+the day differently, more quietly and enjoyably. Her chilly reception and
+the tedious dinner at her cousin's came to her mind. After all, it was a
+great pity that she no longer had any acquaintances in Vienna. She had
+wandered like a stranger about the town in which she had lived twenty-six
+years. Why? And why had she not made the carriage pull up in the morning,
+when she saw the figure that seemed to have a resemblance to Emil
+Lindbach? True, she would not have been able to run or call after
+him--but if it had been really he, if he had recognized her and been
+pleased to see her again? They might have walked about together, might
+have told each other all that had happened during the long time that had
+passed since they had last known anything about one another; they might
+have gone to a fashionable restaurant and had dinner; some would
+naturally have recognized him, and she would have heard quite distinctly
+people discussing the question as to who "she" might really be. She was
+looking beautiful, too; the new costume was already finished; and the
+waiters served her with great politeness, especially a small youth who
+brought the wine--but he was really her nephew, who had, of course,
+become a waiter in that restaurant instead of a student. Suddenly Herr
+and Frau Martin entered the dining-hall; they were holding one another in
+such a tender embrace as if they were the only people there. Then Emil
+rose to his feet, took up the violin bow which was lying beside him, and
+raised it with a commanding gesture, whereupon the waiter turned Herr and
+Frau Martin out of the room. Bertha could not help laughing at the
+incident, laughing much too loudly indeed, for by this time she had quite
+forgotten how to behave in a fashionable restaurant. But then it was not
+a fashionable restaurant at all; it was only the coffee room at the "Red
+Apple," and the military band was playing somewhere out of sight. That,
+be it known, was a clever invention on the part of Herr Rupius, that
+military bands could play without being seen. Now, however, it was her
+turn that was immediately to follow. Yonder was the piano--but, of
+course, she had long since completely forgotten how to play; she would
+run away rather than be forced to play. And all at once she was at the
+railway station, where Frau Rupius was already waiting for her. "It is
+high time you came," she said. She placed in Bertha's hand a large book,
+which, by the way, was her ticket. Frau Rupius, however, was not going
+to take the train; she sat down, ate cherries and spat out the stones at
+the stationmaster, who took a huge delight in the proceedings. Bertha
+entered the compartment. Thank God, Herr Klingemann was already there! He
+made a sign to her with his screwed-up eyes, and asked her if she knew
+whose funeral it was. She saw that a hearse was standing on the other
+line. Then she remembered that the captain with whom the tobacconist's
+wife had deceived Herr Klingemann was dead--of course, it was the day of
+the concert at the "Red Apple." Suddenly Herr Klingemann blew on her
+eyes, and laughed in a rumbling way.
+
+Bertha opened her eyes--at that moment a train was rushing past the
+window. She shook herself. What a confused dream! And hadn't it begun
+quite nicely? She tried to remember. Yes, Emil played a part in it ...
+but she could not recollect what part.
+
+The dusk of evening slowly fell. The train sped on its way along by the
+Danube. Frau Rupius slept and smiled. Perhaps she was only pretending to
+be asleep. Bertha was again seized with a slight suspicion, and she felt
+rising within her a sensation of envy at the unknown and mysterious
+experiences which Frau Rupius had had. She, too, would gladly have
+experienced something. She wished that someone was sitting beside her
+now, his arm pressed against hers--she would fain have felt once more
+that sensation that had thrilled her on that occasion when she had stood
+with Emil on the bank of the Wien, and when she had almost been on the
+point of losing her senses and had yearned for a child.... Ah, why was
+she so poor, so lonely, so much in obscurity? Gladly would she have
+implored the lover of her youth:
+
+"Kiss me but once again just as you used to do, I want to be happy!"
+
+It was dark; Bertha looked out into the night.
+
+She determined that very night before she went to bed to fetch from the
+attic the little case in which she kept the letters of her parents and of
+Emil. She longed to be home again. She felt as though a question had been
+wakened within her soul, and that the answer awaited her at home.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+
+When, late in the evening, Bertha entered her room, the idea which she
+had taken into her head of going up to the attic at once and fetching
+down the case with the letters seemed to her to be almost venturesome.
+She was afraid that some one in the house might observe her on her
+nocturnal pilgrimage, and might take her for mad. She could, of course,
+go up the next morning quite conveniently and without causing any stir;
+and so she fell asleep, feeling like a child who has been promised an
+outing into the country on the following day.
+
+She had much to do the next forenoon; her domestic duties and piano
+lessons occupied the whole of the time. She had to give her sister-in-law
+an account of her visit to Vienna. Her story was that in the afternoon
+she had gone for a walk with her cousin, and the impression was conveyed
+that she had made an excuse to Frau Rupius at the request of Agatha.
+
+It was not until the afternoon that she went up to the attic and brought
+down the dusty travelling-case, which was lying beside a trunk and a
+couple of boxes--the whole collection covered with an old and torn piece
+of red-flowered coffee-cloth. She remembered that her object on the last
+occasion on which she had opened the case had been to put away the
+papers which her parents had left behind. On her return to her room she
+opened the case and perceived lying on top of the other contents a number
+of letters from her brothers and other letters, with the handwriting of
+which she was not familiar; then she found a neat little bundle
+containing the few letters which her parents had addressed to her: these
+were followed by two books of her mother's household accounts, a little
+copybook dating back to her own schooldays and containing entries of
+timetables and exercises, a few programmes of the dances which she had
+attended when a young girl, and, finally, Emil Lindbach's letters, which
+were wrapped up in blue tissue paper, torn here and there. And now she
+was able to fix the very day on which she had last held those letters in
+her hand, although she had not read them on that occasion. It was when
+her father had been lying ill for some time and, for whole days, she had
+not once gone outside the door.
+
+She laid the bundle aside. She wanted, first of all, to see all the other
+things which had been stored in the case, and concerning which she was
+consumed with curiosity. A number of letters lay in a loose heap at the
+bottom of the case, some with their envelopes and others without. She
+cast her eye over them at random. There were letters from old friends, a
+few from her cousin, and here was one from the doctor who had courted her
+in the old days. In it he asked her to reserve for him the first waltz
+at the medical students' dance. Here--what was it? Why, it was that
+anonymous letter which some one had addressed to her at the
+Conservatoire. She picked it up and read:
+
+"My Dear Fraulein,
+
+"Yesterday I again had the good fortune to have an opportunity of
+admiring you on your daily walk; I do not know whether I had also the
+good fortune to be observed by you."
+
+No, he had not had that good fortune. Then followed three pages of
+enthusiastic admiration, and not a single wish, not a single bold word.
+She had, moreover, never heard anything more of the writer.
+
+Here was a letter signed by two initials, "M.G." That was the impudent
+fellow who had once spoken to her in the street, and who in this
+letter made proposals--wait a minute, what were they? Ah, here was the
+passage which had sent the hot blood mounting to her brow when she had
+first read it:
+
+"Since I have seen you, and since you have looked on me with a glance so
+stern and yet seemingly so full of promise, I have had but one dream, but
+one yearning--that I might kiss those eyes!"
+
+Of course, she had not answered the letter; she was in love with Emil at
+the time. Indeed, she had even thought of showing him the letter, but was
+restrained by the fear of rousing his jealousy. Emil had never learned
+anything of "M. G."
+
+And that piece of soft ribbon that now fell into her hands?... A
+cravat ... but she had quite forgotten whose it was, and why she had kept
+it.
+
+Here again was a little dance album in which she had written the names of
+her partners. She tried to call the young men to mind, but in vain.
+Though, by the way, it was at that very dance that she had met that man
+who had said such passionate words to her as she had never heard from any
+other. It seemed as though he suddenly emerged a victor from among the
+many shadows that hovered around her. It must have happened during the
+time when she and Emil had been meeting each other less frequently. How
+strange it was ... or had it only been a dream? This passionate admirer
+had clasped her closely in his arms during the dance--and she had not
+offered the slightest resistance. She had felt his lips in her hair, and
+it had been incredibly pleasant ... Well, and then?--she had never seen
+him again.
+
+It suddenly seemed to her that, after all, in those days she had had
+many and strange experiences, and she was lost in amazement at the way
+in which all these memories had slumbered so long in the travelling case
+and in her soul.... But no, they had not slumbered; she had thought of
+all these things many a time: of the men who had courted her, of the
+anonymous letter, of her passionate partner at the dance, of the walks
+with Emil--but only as if they had been merely such things as go to
+constitute the past, the youth which is allotted to every young girl,
+and from which she emerges to lead the placid life of a woman. On the
+present occasion, however, it seemed to Bertha as if these recollections
+were, so to speak, unredeemed promises, as if in those experiences of
+distant days there lay destinies which had not been fulfilled; nay,
+more, as if a kind of deception had long been practised upon her, from
+the very day on which she had been married until the present moment; as
+if she had discovered it all too late; and here she was, unable to lift
+a finger to alter her destiny.
+
+Yet why should it seem so?... She thought of all these futile things, and
+there beside her, wrapped up in tissue paper, still lay the treasure, for
+the sake of which alone she had rummaged in the case--the letters of the
+only man she had loved, the letters written in the days when she had been
+happy. How many women might there be now who envied her because that very
+man had once loved her--loved her with a different, better, chaster love
+than that which he had given any of the women who had followed her in his
+affections. She felt herself most bitterly deceived that she, who could
+have been his wife if ... if ... her thoughts broke off.
+
+Hurriedly, as though seeking to rid her mind of doubt, or rather,
+indeed, of fear, she tore off the tissue paper and seized the letters.
+And she read--read them one after another. Long letters, short letters;
+brief, hasty notes, like: "To-morrow evening, darling, at seven o'clock!"
+or "Dearest, just one kiss ere I go to sleep!" letters that covered many
+pages, written during the walking tours which he and his fellow students
+had taken in the summer; letters written in the evening, in which he had
+felt constrained to impart to her his impressions of a concert
+immediately on returning home; endless pages in which he unfolded his
+plans for the future; how they would travel together through Spain and
+America, famous and happy ... she read them all, one after another, as
+though tortured by a quenchless thirst. She read from the very first,
+which had accompanied a few pieces of music, to the last, which was dated
+two and a half years later, and contained nothing more than a greeting
+from Salzburg.
+
+When she came to an end she let her hands fall into her lap and gazed
+fixedly at the sheets lying about. Why had that been the last letter? How
+had their friendship come to an end? How could it have come to an end?
+How had it been possible that that great love had died away? There had
+never been any actual rupture between Emil and herself; they had never
+come to any definite understanding that all was over between them, and
+yet their acquaintanceship had ended at some time or other--when?... She
+could not tell, because at the time when he had written that card to her
+from Salzburg she had still been in love with him. She had, as a matter
+of fact, met him in the autumn--indeed, during the winter of the same
+year everything had seemed once more to blossom forth. She remembered
+certain walks they had taken over the crunching snow, arm in arm, beside
+St. Charles' Church--but when was it that they had taken the last of
+these walks? They had, to be sure, never taken farewell of each
+other.... She could not understand it.
+
+How was it that she had been able so easily to renounce a happiness which
+it might yet have been within her power to retain? How had it come about
+that she had ceased to love him? Had the dullness of the daily routine of
+her home life, which weighed so heavily upon her spirits ever since she
+had left the Conservatoire, lulled her feelings to sleep just as it had
+blunted the edge of her ambitions? Had the querulous remarks of her
+parents on the subject of her friendship with the youthful
+violinist--which had seemed likely to lead to nothing--acted on her with
+such sobering effect?
+
+Then she recalled to mind that even at a later date, when some months had
+elapsed since she had last seen him, he had called at her parents' house,
+and had kissed her in the back room. Yes, that had been the last time of
+all. And then she remembered further that on that occasion she had
+noticed that his relation towards women had changed; that he must have
+had experiences of which she could know nothing--but the discovery had
+not caused her any pain.
+
+She asked herself how it all would have turned out if in those days she
+had not been so virtuous, if she had taken life as easily as some of the
+other girls? She called to mind a girl at the Conservatoire with whom she
+had ceased to associate on finding that her friend had an intrigue with a
+dramatic student. She remembered again the suggestive words which Emil
+had spoken as they were walking together past his window, and the
+yearning that had come over her as they stood by the bank of the Wien. It
+seemed inconceivable that those words had not affected her more keenly at
+the moment, that that yearning had been awakened within her only once,
+and then only for so short a time. With a kind of perplexed amazement she
+thought of that period of placid purity and then, with a sudden agonized
+feeling of shame which drove the blood to her temples, of the cold
+readiness with which she had given herself afterwards to a man whom she
+had never loved. The consciousness that whatever happiness she had tasted
+in the course of her married life had been gained in the arms of the
+husband she had not loved made her shudder with horror, for the first
+time, in its utter wretchedness. Had that, then, been life such as her
+thoughts had depicted to her, had that been the mystic happiness such as
+she had yearned for?... And a dull feeling of resentment against
+everything and everybody, against the living and the dead, began to
+smoulder within her bosom. She was angry with her dead husband and with
+her dead father and mother; she was indignant with the people amongst
+whom she was now living, whose eyes were always upon her so that she
+dared not allow herself any freedom; she was hurt with Frau Rupius, who
+had not turned out to be such a friend that Bertha could rely on her for
+support; she hated Klingemann because, ugly and repulsive as he was, he
+desired to make her his wife; and finally she was violently enraged with
+the man she had loved in the days of her girlhood, because he had not
+been bolder, because he had withheld from her the ultimate happiness, and
+because he had bequeathed her nothing but memories full of fragrance, yet
+full of torment. And there she was, sitting in her lonely room amongst
+the faded mementoes of a youth that had passed unprofitably and
+friendlessly; there she was, on the verge of the time when there would be
+no more hopes and no more desires--life had slipped through her fingers,
+and she was thirty and poor.
+
+She wrapped up the letters and the other things, and threw them, all
+crumpled as they were, into the case. Then she closed it and went over to
+the window.
+
+Evening was at hand. A gentle breeze was blowing over from the direction
+of the vine-trellises. Her eyes swam with unwept tears, not of grief, but
+of exasperation. What was she to do? She, who had, without fear and
+without hope, seen the days, nights, months, years extending into the
+future, shuddered at the prospect of the emptiness of the evening which
+lay before her.
+
+It was the hour at which she usually returned home from her walk. On that
+day she had sent the nursemaid out with Fritz--not so much as once did
+she yearn for her boy. Indeed, for one moment there even fell on her
+child a ray of the anger which she felt against all mankind and against
+her fate. And, in her vast discontent, she was seized with a feeling of
+envy against many people who, at ordinary times, seemed to her anything
+but enviable. She envied Frau Martin because of the tender affection of
+her husband; the tobacconist's wife because she was loved by Herr
+Klingemann and the captain; her sister-in-law, because she was already
+old; Elly, because she was still young; she envied the servant, who was
+sitting on a plank over there with a soldier, and whom she heard
+laughing. She could not endure being at home any longer; She took up her
+straw hat and sunshade and hurried into the street. There she felt
+somewhat better. In her room she had been unhappy; in the street she was
+no more than out of humour.
+
+In the main thoroughfare she met Herr and Frau Mahlmann, to whose
+children she gave music lessons. Frau Mahlmann was already aware that
+Bertha had ordered a costume from a dressmaker in Vienna on the
+previous day, and she began to discuss the matter with great
+weightiness. Later on, Bertha met her brother-in-law, who came towards
+her from the chestnut avenue.
+
+"Well," he said, "so you were in Vienna yesterday! Tell me, what did you
+do with yourself there? Did you have any adventures?"
+
+"What do you mean?" asked Bertha, looking at him in great alarm, as
+though she had done something she ought not, and had been found out.
+
+"What? You had no adventures? But you were with Frau Rupius; all the men
+must surely have run after you?"
+
+"What on earth has come into your head? Frau Rupius' conduct is
+irreproachable! She is one of the most well-bred ladies I know."
+
+"Quite so, quite so! I am not saying a word against Frau Rupius or you."
+
+She looked him in the face. His eyes were gleaming, as they often did
+when he had had a little too much to drink. She could not help recalling
+that somebody had once foretold that Herr Garlan would die of an
+apoplectic stroke.
+
+"I must pay another visit to Vienna myself one of these days," he said.
+"Why, I haven't been there since Ash Wednesday. I should like to see some
+of my acquaintances once again. The next time you and Frau Rupius go, you
+might just take me with you."
+
+"With pleasure," answered Bertha. "I shall have to go again, of course,
+before long, to have my costume tried on."
+
+Garlan laughed.
+
+"Yes, and you can take me with you, too, when you try it on."
+
+He sidled up closer to her than was necessary. It was a way he had always
+to squeeze up against her, and, moreover, she was accustomed to his
+jokes, but on the present occasion she thought him particularly
+objectionable. She was very much annoyed that he, of all men, always
+spoke of Frau Rupius in such a suspicious way.
+
+"Let us sit down," said Herr Garlan; "if you don't mind."
+
+They both sat down on a seat. Garlan took the newspaper from his pocket.
+
+"Ah!" said Bertha involuntarily.
+
+"Will you have it?" asked Garlan.
+
+"Has your wife read it yet?"
+
+"Tut, tut!" said Garlan disdainfully. "Will you have it?"
+
+"If you can spare it."
+
+"For you--with pleasure. But we might just as well read it together."
+
+He edged closer to Bertha and opened the paper.
+
+Herr and Frau Martin came along, arm in arm, and stopped before them.
+
+"Well, so you are back again from the momentous journey," said
+Herr Martin.
+
+"Ah, yes, you were in Vienna," said Frau Martin, nestling against her
+husband. "And with Frau Rupius, too," she added, as though that implied
+an aggravation of the offence.
+
+Once more Bertha had to give an account of her new costume. She told them
+all about it in a somewhat mechanical manner, indeed; but she felt, none
+the less, that it was long since she had been such an interesting
+personage as she was now.
+
+Klingemann went by, bowed with ironical politeness, and turned round to
+Bertha with a look which seemed to express his sympathy for her in having
+to be friendly with such people.
+
+It seemed to Bertha as though she were gifted that day with the ability
+to read men's glances.
+
+It began to grow dark. They set off together towards the town. Bertha
+suddenly grew uneasy at not having met her boy. She walked on in
+front with Frau Martin, who turned the conversation on to the subject
+of Frau Rupius. She badly wanted to find out whether Bertha had
+observed anything.
+
+"But what do you mean, Frau Martin? I accompanied Frau Rupius to her
+brother's house, and called for her there on my way back."
+
+"And are you convinced that she was with her brother the whole time?"
+
+"I really don't know what you expect Frau Rupius to do! Where would she
+have been then?"
+
+"Well," said Frau Martin; "really, you are an artless creature. I must
+say--or are you only putting on? Do you quite forget then ..."
+
+Then she whispered something into Bertha's ear, at which the latter grew
+very red. She had never heard such an expression from a woman. She was
+indignant.
+
+"Frau Martin," she said, "I am not so old myself either and, as you see,
+it is quite possible to live a decent life in such circumstances."
+
+Frau Martin was a little taken aback.
+
+"Yes, of course!" she said. "Yes, of course! You must, I dare say, think
+that I am a little over-nice in such matters."
+
+Bertha was afraid that Frau Martin might be about to give her some
+further and more intimate disclosures, and she was very glad to find
+that, at that moment, they had reached the street corner where she could
+say good-bye.
+
+"Bertha, here's your paper!" her brother-in-law called after her.
+
+She turned round quickly and took the paper. Then she hastened home.
+Fritz had returned and was waiting for her at the window. She hurried up
+to him. She embraced and kissed him as though she had not seen him for
+weeks. She felt that she was completely engrossed with love for her boy,
+a fact which, at the time, filled her with pride. She listened to his
+account of how he had spent the afternoon, where he had been, and with
+whom he had played. She cut up his supper for him, undressed him, put him
+to bed, and was satisfied with herself. Her state of mind of the
+afternoon, when she had rummaged among the old letters, had cursed her
+fate and had even envied the tobacconist's wife, seemed to her, at the
+thought of it, as an attack of fever. She ate a hearty supper and went to
+bed early. Before falling to sleep, however, it occurred to her that she
+would like to read the paper. She stretched her limbs, shook up the soft
+bolster so that her head should be higher, and held the paper as near the
+candle as possible.
+
+As her custom was, she first of all skimmed through the theatrical and
+art news. Even the short announcements, as well as the local reports, had
+acquired a new interest for her, since her trip to Vienna. Her eyelids
+were beginning to grow heavy when all at once she observed the name of
+Emil Lindbach amongst the personal news. She opened her eyes wide, sat up
+in bed and read the paragraph.
+
+"Emil Lindbach, violinist to the Court of Bavaria, whose great success at
+the Spanish Court we were recently in a position to announce, has been
+honoured by the Queen of Spain, who has invested him with the Order of
+the Redeemer."
+
+A smile flitted across her lips. She was glad, Emil Lindbach had obtained
+the Order of the Redeemer.... Yes ... the man whose letters she had been
+reading that very day ... the man who had kissed her--the man who had
+once written to her that he would never adore any other woman.... Yes,
+Emil--the only man in all the world in whom she really had still any
+interest--except her boy, of course. She felt as though this notice in
+the paper was intended only for her, as though, indeed, Emil himself had
+selected that expedient, so as to establish some means of communication
+with her. Had it not been he, after all, whose back she had seen in the
+distance on the previous day? All at once she seemed to be quite near to
+him; still smiling, she whispered to herself: "Herr Emil Lindbach,
+violinist to the Court of Bavaria, ... I congratulate you...."
+
+Her lips remained half open. An idea had suddenly come to her. She got up
+quickly, donned her dressing-gown, took up the light and went into the
+adjoining room. She sat down at the table and wrote the following letter
+as fluently as though some one were standing beside her and dictating it,
+word for word:
+
+"DEAR EMIL,
+
+"I have just read in the newspaper that the Queen of Spain has honoured
+you by investing you with the Order of the Redeemer. I do not know
+whether you still remember me"--she smiled as she wrote these
+words--"but, all the same, I will not let this opportunity slip without
+congratulating you upon your many successes, of which I so often have the
+pleasure of reading. I am living most contentedly in the little town
+where fate has cast me; I am getting on very well!
+
+"A few lines in reply would make me very happy.
+
+"Your old friend,
+
+"BERTHA.
+
+"P.S.--Kind regards also from my little Fritz (five years old)."
+
+She had finished the letter. For a moment she asked herself whether she
+should mention that she was a widow; but even if he had not known it
+before, it was quite obvious from her letter. She read it over and nodded
+contentedly. She wrote the address.
+
+"Herr Emil Lindbach, violinist to the Court of Bavaria, Holder of the
+Order of the Redeemer ..." Should she write all that? He was certain to
+have many other Orders also ... "Vienna ..."
+
+But where was he living at present? That, however, was of no consequence
+with such a celebrated name. Moreover the inaccuracy in the address would
+also show that she did not attach so very much importance to it all; if
+the letter reached him--well, so much the better. It was also a way of
+putting fate to the test.... Ah, but how was she to know for a certainty
+that the letter had arrived or not? The answer might, of course, quite
+easily fail to reach her if.... No, no, certainly not! He would be sure
+to
+thank her. And so, to bed.
+
+She held the letter in her hand. No, she could not go to bed now, she
+was wide awake again. And, moreover, if she did not post the letter until
+next morning it would not go before the midday train, and would not reach
+Emil before the day after. That was an interminably long time. She had
+just spoken to him, and were thirty-six hours to be allowed to elapse
+before her words reached his ears?... Supposing she did not wait, but
+went to the post now?... no, to the station? Then he would have the
+letter at ten o'clock the next morning. He was certain to be late in
+rising--the letter would be brought into his room with his breakfast....
+Yes, she must post the letter at once!
+
+Quickly she dressed again. She hurried down the stairs--it was not yet
+late--she hastened along the main street to the station, put the letter
+in the yellow box, and was home again.
+
+As she stood in her room, beside the tumbled bed, and she saw the paper
+lying on the floor and the candle flickering, it seemed as though she had
+returned from a strange adventure. For a long time she remained sitting
+on the edge of the bed, gazing through the window into the bright,
+starlit night, and her soul was filled with vague and pleasurable
+expectations.
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+
+"My Dear Bertha!
+
+"I am wholly unable to tell you how glad I was to receive your letter. Do
+you really still think of me, then? How curious it is that it should have
+been an Order, of all things, that was the cause of my hearing from you
+again! Well, at all events, an Order has at least had some significance
+for once in a way! Therefore, I heartily thank you for your
+congratulations. But, apart from all that, don't you come to Vienna
+sometimes? It is not so very far, after all. I should be immensely
+pleased to see you again. So come soon!
+
+"With all my heart,
+
+"Your old
+
+"Emil."
+
+Bertha was sitting at breakfast, Fritz beside her. He was chatting, but
+she was not listening to him. The letter lay before her on the table.
+
+It seemed miraculous. Two nights and a day ago she had posted her letter,
+and here was his reply already. Emil had not allowed a day to pass, not
+even an hour! He had written to her as cordially as if they had only
+parted the previous day.
+
+She looked out of the window. What a splendid morning it was! Outside
+the birds were singing, and from the hills came floating down the
+fragrance of the early summer-tide.
+
+Bertha read the letter again and again. Then she took Fritz, lifted him
+up and kissed him to her heart's content. It was long since she had
+been so happy.
+
+While she was dressing she turned things over in her mind. It was
+Thursday; on Monday she had to go to Vienna again to try on the costume.
+That was four long days, just the same space of time as had elapsed since
+she had dined at her brother-in-law's--what a long time it seemed to have
+to wait. No, she must see Emil sooner than that. She could, of course, go
+the very next morning and remain in Vienna a few days. But what excuse
+could she make to the people at home?... Oh, she would be sure to find
+some pretext. It was more important to decide in what way she should
+answer his letter and tell him where she would meet him.... She could not
+write and say: "I am coming, please let me know where I can see you...."
+Perhaps he would answer: "Come to my rooms...." No, no, no! It would be
+best to let him have a definite statement of fact. She would write to the
+effect that she was going to Vienna on such and such a day and was to be
+found at such and such a place....
+
+Oh, if she only had someone with whom she could talk the whole thing
+over!... She thought of Frau Rupius--she had a genuine yearning to tell
+her everything. At the same time she had an idea that, by so doing, she
+might become more intimate with her and might win her esteem. She felt
+that she had become much more important since the receipt of Emil's
+letter. Now she remarked, too, that she had been very much afraid that
+Emil might quite possibly have changed and become conceited, affected and
+spoiled--just as was the case with so many celebrated men. But there was
+not the slightest trace of such things in the letter; there was the same
+quick, heavy writing, the same warmth of tone, as in those earlier
+letters. What a number of experiences he might well have had since she
+had last seen him--well, had not she also had many experiences, and were
+they not all seemingly obliterated?
+
+Before going out she read Emil's letter again. It grew more like a living
+voice; she heard the cadence of the words, and that final "Come soon"
+seemed to call her with tender yearning. She stuck the letter into her
+bodice and remembered how, as a girl, she had often done the same with
+his notes, and how the gentle touch had sent a pleasant thrill coursing
+through her.
+
+First of all, she went to the Mahlmanns', where she gave the twins their
+music lesson. Very often the finger exercises, to which she had to
+listen there, were positively painful to her, and she would rap the
+children on the knuckles when they struck a false note. On the present
+occasion, however, she was not in the least strict. When Frau Mahlmann,
+fat and friendly as ever, came into the room and inquired whether Bertha
+was satisfied, the latter praised the children and added, as though
+suddenly inspired:
+
+"Now, I shall be able to give them a few days' holiday."
+
+"Holiday! How will that be, then, dear Frau Garlan?"
+
+"You see, Frau Mahlmann, I have no choice in the matter. What do you
+think, when I was in Vienna lately my cousin begged me so pressingly to
+be sure to come and spend a few days with her--"
+
+"Quite so, quite so," said Frau Mahlmann.
+
+Bertha's courage kept rising, and she continued to add falsehood to
+falsehood, taking a kind of pleasure in her own boldness:
+
+"I really wanted to put it off till June. But this very morning I had a
+letter from her, saying that her husband is going away for a time, and
+she is so lonely, and just now"--she felt the letter crackle, and had an
+indescribable desire to take it out; but yet restrained herself--"and I,
+think I shall perhaps take advantage of the opportunity...."
+
+"Well, to tell the truth," said Frau Mahlmann, taking Bertha by both
+hands, "if I had a cousin in Vienna, I would like to stay with her a week
+every fortnight!"
+
+Bertha beamed. She felt as though an invisible hand was clearing away
+the obstacles which lay in her path; everything was going so well. And,
+indeed, to whom, after all, was she accountable for her actions?
+Suddenly, however, the fear flashed through her mind that her
+brother-in-law really intended to go with her to Vienna. Everything
+became entangled again; dangers cropped up and suspicion lurked even
+under the good-natured smile of Frau Mahlmann....
+
+Ah, she must on no account fail to take Frau Rupius into her confidence.
+Directly the lesson was over she went to call upon her.
+
+It was not until she had found Frau Rupius in a white morning gown,
+sitting on the sofa, and had observed the surprised glance with which the
+latter received her, that it struck Bertha that there was anything
+strange in her early visit, and she said with affected cheerfulness:
+
+"Good morning! I'm early to-day, am I not?"
+
+Frau Rupius remained serious. She had not the usual smile on her lips.
+
+"I am very glad to see you. The hour makes no difference to me."
+
+Then she threw her a questioning glance, and Bertha did not know what to
+say. She was annoyed, too, at the childish embarrassment, of which she
+could not rid herself in the presence of Frau Rupius.
+
+"I wanted," she said, at length, "to ask you how you felt after
+our trip."
+
+"Quite well," answered Frau Rupius, rather stiffly. But all at once
+her features changed, and she added with excessive friendliness:
+"Really, it was my place to have asked you. I am accustomed to those
+trips, you know."
+
+As she said this she looked through the window and Bertha mechanically
+followed her gaze, which wandered over to the other side of the market
+square to an open window with flowers on the sill. It was quite calm, and
+the repose of a summer day shrouded the slumbering town. Bertha would
+have dearly liked to sit beside Frau Rupius and be kissed upon the brow
+by her, and blessed; but at the same time she had a feeling of compassion
+towards her. All this puzzled her. For what reason, indeed, had she
+really come? And what should she say to her?... "I'm going to-morrow to
+Vienna to see the man who used to be in love with me when I was a
+girl?"... In what way did all that concern Frau Rupius? Would it really
+interest her in the very slightest degree? There she sat as if surrounded
+by something impenetrable; it was impossible to approach her. _She_ could
+not approach her, that was the trouble. Of course, there was a word by
+means of which it was possible to find the way to her heart, only Bertha
+did not know it.
+
+"Well, how is your little boy?" asked Frau Rupius, without taking her
+eyes off the flowers in the opposite window.
+
+"He is going on as well as ever. He is very well-behaved, and is a
+marvellously good child!"
+
+The last word she uttered with an intentional tenderness as though Frau
+Rupius was to be won over by that means.
+
+"Yes, yes," answered the latter, her tone implying that she knew he was
+good, and had not asked about that. "Have you a reliable nursemaid?"
+she added.
+
+Bertha was somewhat astonished at the question.
+
+"My maid has, of course, many other things to attend to besides her
+nurse's duties," she replied; "but I cannot complain of her. She is also
+a very good cook."
+
+"It must be a great happiness to have such a boy," said Frau Rupius very
+drily, after a short interval of silence.
+
+"It is, indeed, my only happiness," said Bertha, more loudly than was
+necessary.
+
+It was an answer which she had often made before, but she knew that, on
+that day, she was not speaking with entire sincerity. She felt the
+sheet of paper touch her skin, and, almost with alarm, she realized
+that she had also deemed it a happiness to have received that letter.
+At the same time it occurred to her that the woman sitting opposite her
+had neither a child nor even the prospect of having one, and Bertha
+would have been glad to take back what she had said. Indeed, she was on
+the point of seeking some qualifying word. But, as if Frau Rupius was
+able to see into her soul, and as if in her presence a lie was
+impossible, she said at once:
+
+"Your only happiness? Say, rather, 'a great happiness,' and that is no
+small thing! I often envy you on that score, although I really think
+that, apart from such considerations, life in itself is a joy to you."
+
+"Indeed, my life is so lonely, so...."
+
+Anna smiled.
+
+"Quite so, but I did not mean that. What I meant was that the fact that
+the sun is shining and the weather is now so fine also makes you glad."
+
+"Oh yes, very glad!" replied Bertha assiduously. "My frame of mind is
+generally dependent on the weather. During that thunderstorm a few days
+ago I was utterly depressed, and then, when the storm was over--"
+
+Frau Rupius interrupted her.
+
+"That is the case with every one, you know."
+
+Bertha grew low-spirited. She felt that she was not clever enough for
+Frau Rupius; she could never do any more than follow the ordinary lines
+of conversation, like the other women of her acquaintance. It seemed as
+though Frau Rupius had arranged an examination for her, which she had not
+passed, and, all at once, she was seized with a great apprehension at the
+prospect of meeting Emil again. What sort of a figure would she cut in
+his presence? How shy and helpless she had become during the six years
+of her narrow existence in the little town!
+
+Frau Rupius rose to her feet. The white morning gown streamed around her;
+she looked taller and more beautiful than usual, and Bertha was
+involuntarily reminded of an actress she had seen on the stage a very
+long time ago, and to whom at that moment Frau Rupius bore a remarkable
+resemblance. Bertha said to herself: If I were only like Frau Rupius I am
+sure I would not be so timid. At the same time it struck her that this
+exquisitely lovely woman was married to an invalid--might not the gossips
+be right then, after all? But here, again, she was unable to pursue
+further her train of thought; she could not imagine in what way the
+gossips could be right. And at that moment it dawned upon her mind how
+bitter was the fate to which Frau Rupius was condemned, no matter whether
+she now bore it or resisted it.
+
+But, as if Anna had again read Bertha's thoughts, and could not tolerate
+that the latter should thus insinuate herself into her confidence, the
+uncanny gravity of her face relaxed suddenly, and she said in an
+innocent tone:
+
+"Just fancy, my husband is still asleep. He has acquired the habit of
+remaining awake until late at night, reading and looking at engravings,
+and then he sleeps on until midday. As for that, it is quite a matter
+of habit; when I used to live in Vienna I was incredibly lazy about
+getting up."
+
+And thereupon she began to chat about her girlhood, cheerfully, and with
+a confiding manner such as Bertha had never before noticed in her. She
+told about her father, who had been an officer on the Staff, about her
+mother, who had died when she was quite a young woman; and about the
+little house in the garden of which she had played as a child. It was
+only now that Bertha learned that Frau Rupius had first become acquainted
+with her husband when he was just a boy; he had lived with his parents in
+the adjoining house, and had fallen in love with Anna and she with him,
+while they were both children. To Bertha the whole period of Frau Rupius'
+youth appeared as if radiant with bright sunbeams, a youth replete with
+happiness, replete with hope; and it seemed to her, moreover, that Frau
+Rupius' voice assumed a fresher tone when she went on to relate about the
+travels which she and her husband had undertaken in the early days of
+their married life.
+
+Bertha let her talk and hesitated to interrupt her with a word, as though
+she were a somnambulist wandering on the ridge of a roof. But while Frau
+Rupius was speaking of her past, a period through which the blessedness
+of being loved ever beamed brightly as its chiefest glory, Bertha's soul
+began to thrill with the hope of a happiness for herself such as she had
+not yet experienced. And while Frau Rupius was telling of the walking
+tours through Switzerland and the Tyrol, which she had once undertaken
+with her husband, Bertha pictured herself wandering by Emil's side on
+similar paths, and she was filled with such an immense yearning that she
+would dearly have liked at once to get up, go to Vienna, seek him out,
+fall into his arms, and at last, at last to taste those delights which
+had hitherto been denied her.
+
+Her thoughts wandered so far that she did not notice that Frau Rupius had
+long since fallen silent, and was sitting on the sofa, staring at the
+flowers in the window of the house over the way. The utter stillness
+brought Bertha back to reality; the whole room seemed to her to be filled
+with some mysterious atmosphere, in which the past and the future were
+strangely intermingled. She felt that there existed an incomprehensible
+connexion between herself and Frau Rupius. She rose to her feet,
+stretched out her hand, and, as if it were quite a matter of course, the
+two ladies kissed each other good-bye like a couple of old friends.
+
+On reaching the door Bertha remarked:
+
+"I am going to Vienna again to-morrow for a few days."
+
+She smiled as she spoke, like a girl about to be married.
+
+After leaving Frau Rupius, Bertha went to her sister-in-law. Her nephew
+was already sitting at the piano, improvising in a very wild manner. He
+pretended not to have noticed her enter, and proceeded to practise his
+finger exercises, which he played in an attitude of stiffness, assumed
+for the occasion.
+
+"We will play a duet to-day," said Bertha, endeavouring to find the
+volume of Schubert's marches.
+
+She paid not the least attention to her own playing, and hardly noticed
+how, in using the pedals, her nephew touched her feet.
+
+In the meantime Elly came into the room and kissed her aunt.
+
+"Ah, just so, I had quite forgotten that!" said Richard, and, whilst
+continuing to play, he placed his lips close to Bertha's cheek.
+
+Her sister-in-law came in with her bunch of keys rattling and a deep
+dejection on her pale and indistinct features.
+
+"I have given Brigitta notice," she said in a feeble tone. "I couldn't
+endure it any longer."
+
+"Shall I get you a maid in Vienna?" asked Bertha with a facility which
+even surprised her.
+
+And now for the second time she told the fiction which she had invented
+about her cousin's invitation, with even greater assurance than before,
+and, moreover, with a little amplification this time. Along with the
+secret joy which she found in the telling, she felt her courage
+increasing at the same time. Even the possibility of being joined by her
+brother-in-law no longer alarmed her. She felt, too, that she had an
+advantage over him, because of the way in which he was in the habit of
+sidling up to her.
+
+"How long are you thinking of staying in the town, then?" asked her
+sister-in-law.
+
+"Two or three days; certainly no longer. And in any case, of course, I
+should have had to go on Monday--to the dressmaker."
+
+Richard strummed on the keys, but Elly stood with both arms resting on
+the piano, gazing at her aunt with a look almost of terror.
+
+"Whatever is the matter with you?" asked Bertha involuntarily.
+
+"Why do you ask that?" said Elly.
+
+"You are looking at me," said Bertha, "as queerly as though--well, as
+though you did not like the idea of missing your music lessons for a
+couple of days."
+
+"No, it is not that," replied Elly, smiling. "But ... no, I can't
+tell you."
+
+"What is it, though?" asked Bertha.
+
+"No, please, I really can't tell you."
+
+She hugged her aunt, almost imploringly.
+
+"Elly," said her mother, "I cannot permit you to have any secrets."
+
+She sat down as though most deeply grieved and very tired.
+
+"Well, Elly," said Bertha, filled with a vague fear, "if I were to
+beg you--"
+
+"But you mustn't laugh at me, Aunt."
+
+"Certainly not."
+
+"Well, you see, Aunt, I was so frightened when you were away in Vienna
+that last time--I know very well it is silly--but it is because ...
+because of the number of carriages in the streets."
+
+Bertha drew a deep breath as of relief, and stroked Elly's cheeks.
+
+"I will be sure to take great care. You can be quite easy in your mind."
+
+Her sister-in-law shook her head.
+
+"I am afraid that Elly will turn out a most eccentric girl."
+
+Before Bertha left the house she arranged with her sister-in-law that she
+would come back to supper, and that she would hand over Fritz to the care
+of her relations while she as away in Vienna.
+
+After dinner, Bertha sat down at the writing table, read over Emil's
+letter a few more times, and made a rough draft of her reply.
+
+"My Dear Emil,
+
+"It was very good of you to answer me so soon. I was very happy"--she
+crossed out "very happy" and substituted "very glad"--"when I received
+your dear note. How much has changed since we last saw each other! You
+have become a famous virtuoso since then, which I, for my part, was
+always quite sure that you would be"--she stopped and struck out the
+whole sentence--"I also share your desire to see me soon again"--no, that
+was mere nonsense! This was better: "I should be immensely delighted to
+have an opportunity of talking to you once more."--Then an excellent
+idea occurred to her, and she wrote with great zest: "It is really
+strange that we have not met for so long, for I come to Vienna quite
+often; for instance, I shall be there this week-end...." Then she allowed
+her pen to drop and fell into thought. She was determined to go to Vienna
+the next afternoon, to put up at an hotel, and to sleep there, so as to
+be quite fresh the following day, and to breathe the air of Vienna for a
+few hours before meeting him. The next question was to fix a meeting
+place. That was easily done. "In accordance with your kind wish I am
+writing to let you know that on Saturday morning at eleven o'clock...."
+No, that was not the right thing! It was so businesslike, and yet again
+too eager--"if," she wrote, "you would really care to take the
+opportunity of seeing your old friend again, then perhaps you will not
+consider it too much trouble to go to the Art and History Museum on
+Saturday morning at eleven o'clock. I will be in the gallery of the Dutch
+School"--as she wrote that she seemed to herself rather impressive and,
+at the same time, everything of a suspicious nature seemed to be removed.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+She read over the draft. It appeared to her rather dry, but, after all,
+it contained all that was necessary, and did not compromise her in any
+way. Whatever else was to happen would take place in the Museum, in the
+Dutch gallery.
+
+She neatly copied out the draft, signed it, placed it in an envelope,
+and hurried down the sunny street to post the letter in the nearest box.
+On arriving home again she slipped off her dress, donned a dressing-gown,
+sat down on the sofa, and turned over the leaves of a novel by
+Gerstacker, which she had read half a score of times already. But she was
+unable to take in a word. At first, she attempted to dismiss from her
+mind the thoughts which beset her, but her efforts met with no success.
+
+She felt ashamed of herself, but all the time she kept dreaming that she
+was in Emil's arms. Why ever did such dreams come to her? She had never,
+even for a moment, thought of such a thing! No, ... she would not think
+of
+it, either ... she was not that sort of woman.... No, she could not be
+anyone's mistress--and even on this occasion.... Yes, perhaps if she were
+to go to Vienna once more and again ... and again ... yes, much
+later--perhaps. And besides, he would not even so much as dare to speak
+of such a thing, or even to hint at it.... It was, however, useless to
+reason like this; she could no longer think of anything else. Ever more
+importunate came her dreams and, in the end, she gave up the struggle.
+She lolled indolently in the corner of the sofa, allowed the book to slip
+from her fingers and lie on the floor, and closed her eyes.
+
+When she rose to her feet an hour later a whole night seemed to have
+passed, and the visit to Frau Rupius seemed, in particular, to be far
+distant. Again she wondered at this confusion of time--in truth, the
+hours appeared to be longer or shorter just as they chose.
+
+She dressed in order to take Fritz for a walk. She was in the tired,
+indifferent mood which usually came over her after an unaccustomed
+afternoon nap. It was that mood in which it is scarcely possible to
+collect one's thoughts with any degree of completeness, and in which the
+usual appears strange, but as though it refers to some one else. For the
+first time, it seemed strange to Bertha that the boy, whom she was now
+helping into his coat, was her own child, whose father had long been
+buried, and for whom she had endured the pangs of motherhood.
+
+Something within her urged her to go to the cemetery again that day. She
+had not, however, the feeling that she had a wrong to make reparation
+for, but that she must again politely visit some one to whom she had
+become a stranger for no valid reason. She chose the way through the
+chestnut avenue. There the heat was particularly oppressive that day.
+When she passed out into the sun again a gentle breeze was blowing and
+the foliage of the trees in the cemetery seemed to greet her with a
+slight bow. As she passed through the cemetery gates with Fritz the
+breeze came towards her, cool, even refreshing. With a feeling of gentle,
+almost sweet, weariness, she walked through the broad centre avenue,
+allowed Fritz to run on in front, and did not mind when he disappeared
+from her sight for a few seconds behind a tombstone, though at other
+times she would not have allowed such behaviour. She remained standing
+before her husband's grave. She did not, however, look down at the
+flower-bed, as was her general custom, but gazed past the tombstone and
+away over the wall into the blue sky. She felt no tears in her eyes; she
+felt no emotion, no dread; she did not even realize that she had walked
+over the dead, and that there beneath her feet he, who had once held her
+in his arms, had crumbled into dust.
+
+Suddenly she heard behind her hurried footsteps on the gravel, such as
+she was not generally accustomed to hear in the cemetery. Almost shocked,
+she turned round. Klingemann was standing before her, in an attitude of
+greeting, holding in his hand his straw hat, which was fixed by a ribbon
+to his coat button. He bowed deeply to Bertha.
+
+"What a strange thing to see you here!" she said.
+
+"Not at all, my dear lady, not at all! I saw you from the street; I
+recognized you by your walk."
+
+He spoke in a very loud tone, and Bertha almost involuntarily murmured:
+
+"Hush!"
+
+A mocking smile at once made its appearance on Klingemann's face.
+
+"He won't wake up," he muttered, between his clenched teeth.
+
+Bertha was so indignant at this remark that she did not attempt to find
+an answer, but called Fritz, and was about to depart.
+
+Klingemann, however, seized her by the hand.
+
+"Stop," he whispered, gazing at the ground.
+
+Bertha opened her eyes wide; she could not understand.
+
+Suddenly Klingemann looked up from the ground and fixed his eyes
+on Bertha's.
+
+"I love you, you see," he said.
+
+Bertha uttered a low cry.
+
+Klingemann let go her hand, and added in quite an easy
+conversational tone:
+
+"Perhaps that strikes you as rather odd."
+
+"It is unheard of!--unheard of!"
+
+Once more she sought to go, and she called Fritz.
+
+"Stop! If you leave me alone now, Bertha...." said Klingemann, now in a
+suppliant tone.
+
+Bertha had recovered her senses again.
+
+"Don't call me Bertha!" she said, vehemently. "Who gave you the right to
+do so? I have no wish to say anything further to you ... and here, of all
+places!" she added, with a downward glance, which, as it were, besought
+the pardon of the dead.
+
+Meanwhile Fritz had come back. Klingemann seemed very disappointed.
+
+"My dear lady," he said, following Bertha, who, holding Fritz by the
+hand, was slowly walking away: "I recognize my mistake. I should have
+begun differently and not said that which seems now to have frightened
+you, until I had come to the end of a well-turned speech."
+
+Bertha did not look at him, but said, as though she were speaking
+to herself:
+
+"I would not have considered it possible; I thought you were a
+gentleman...."
+
+They were at the cemetery gate. Klingemann looked back again, and in his
+glance there was something of regret at not having been able to play out
+his scene at the graveside to a finish. Hat in hand, and twisting the
+ribbon, by which it was fastened, round his finger, and still keeping by
+Bertha's side, he went on to say:
+
+"All I can do now is to repeat that I love you, that you pursue me in my
+dreams--in a word, you must be mine!"
+
+Bertha came to a standstill again, as if she were terrified.
+
+"You will, perhaps, consider my remarks insolent, but let us take
+things as they are. You"--he made a long pause--"are alone in the
+world. So am I--"
+
+Bertha stared him full in the face.
+
+"I know what you are thinking of," said Klingemann. "That is all of no
+consequence; that is all done with the moment you give the word. I have a
+dim presentiment that we two suit each other very well. Yes, unless I am
+very much deceived, the blood should be flowing in your veins, my dear
+lady, as warm...."
+
+The glance which Bertha now gave him was so full of anger and loathing
+that Klingemann was unable to complete the sentence. He therefore
+began another.
+
+"Ah, when you come to think of it, what sort of a life is it that I am
+now leading? It is even a long, long time since I was loved by a noble
+woman such as you are. I understand, of course, your hesitation, or
+rather, your refusal. Deuce take it, of course it needs a bit of
+courage--with such a disreputable fellow as I am, too ... although,
+perhaps, things are not quite so bad. Ah, if I could only find a human
+soul, a kind, womanly soul!"--He emphasized the "womanly soul"--"Yes, my
+dear lady, it was as little meant to be my fate as it was yours to pine
+away and grow crabbed in such a hole of a town as this. You must not be
+offended if I ... if I--"
+
+The words began to fail him when he approached the truth. Bertha looked
+at him. He seemed to her at that moment to be rather ridiculous, almost
+pitiable, and very old, and she wondered how it was that he still had
+the courage, not so much as to propose to her, as even simply to court
+her favour.
+
+And yet, to her own amazement and shame, there overflowed from these
+unseemly words of a man who appeared absurd to her, the surge, so to
+speak, of desire. And when his words had died away she heard them again
+in her mind--but as though from the lips of another who was waiting for
+her in Vienna--and she felt that she would not be able to withstand this
+other speaker. Klingemann continued to talk; he spoke of his life as
+being a failure, but yet a life worth saving. He said that women were to
+be blamed for bringing him so low, and that a woman could raise him up
+again. Away back in his student days he had run away with a woman, and
+that had been the beginning of his misfortunes. He talked of his
+unbridled passions, and Bertha could not restrain a smile. At the same
+time she was ashamed of the knowledge which seemed to her to be implied
+by the smile....
+
+"I will walk up and down in front of your window this evening," said
+Klingemann, when they reached the gate. "Will you play the piano?"
+
+"I don't know."
+
+"I will take it as a sign."
+
+With that he went away.
+
+In the evening she supped, as she had so often done, at her
+brother-in-law's house. At the table she sat between Elly and Richard.
+Mention was made of her approaching journey to Vienna as though it was
+really nothing more than a matter of paying a visit to her cousin,
+trying on the new costume at the dressmaker's, and executing a few
+commissions in the way of household necessities, which she had promised
+to undertake for her sister-in-law. Towards the end of supper, her
+brother-in-law smoked his pipe, Richard read the paper to him, her
+sister-in-law knitted, and Elly, who had nestled up close beside Bertha,
+leaned her childish head upon her aunt's breast. And Bertha, as her
+glance took in the whole scene, felt herself to be a crafty liar. She,
+the widow of a good husband, was sitting there in a family circle which
+interested itself in her welfare so loyally; by her side was a young
+girl who looked up at her as on an older friend. Hitherto she had been a
+good woman, honest and industrious, living only for her son. And now,
+was she not about to cast aside all these things, to deceive and lie to
+these excellent people, and to plunge into an adventure, the end of
+which she could foresee? What was it, then, that had come over her these
+last few days, by what dreams was she pursued, how was it that her whole
+existence seemed only to aspire towards the one moment when she would
+again feel the arms of a man about her? She had but to think of it and
+she was seized with an indescribable sensation of horror, during which
+she seemed devoid of will, as if she had fallen under the influence of
+some strange power.
+
+And while the words that Richard was reading beat monotonously upon her
+ear, and her fingers played with the locks of Elly's hair--she resisted
+for the last time; she resolved that she would be steadfast--that she
+would do no more than see Emil once again, and that, like her own mother
+who had died long ago, and like all the other good women she knew--her
+cousin in Vienna, Frau Mahlmann, Frau Martin, her sister-in-law,
+and ... yes, certainly Frau Rupius as well--she would belong only to him
+who made her his wife. As soon, however, as she thought of that, the
+idea flashed through her mind, like lightning: if he himself...if
+Emil.... But she was afraid of the thought, and banished it from her. Not
+with such bold dreams as these would she go to meet Emil. He, the great
+artist, and she, a poor widow with a child...no, no!--she would see him
+once again ... in the Museum of course, at the Dutch gallery ... once
+only, and that for the last time, and she would tell him that she did not
+wish for anything else than to see him that once. With a smile of
+satisfaction she pictured to herself his somewhat disappointed face;
+and, as if practising beforehand for the scene, she knitted her brow and
+assumed a stern cast of countenance, and had the words ready on her lips
+to say to him: "Oh, no, Emil, if you think that...." But she must take
+care not to say it in quite too harsh a tone, in order that Emil might
+not, as on that previous occasion ... twelve years before! ... cease to
+plead after only the one attempt. She intended that he should beg a
+second time, a third time--ah, Heaven knew, she intended that he should
+continue to plead until she gave way.... For she felt, there in the midst
+of all those good, respectable, virtuous people, with whom, indeed, she
+would soon no longer be numbered, that she would give way the moment he
+first asked her. She was only going to Vienna to be _his_, and after
+that, if needs must be, to die.
+
+On the afternoon of the following day Bertha set off. It was very hot,
+and the sun beat down upon the leather-covered seats of the railway
+carriage. Bertha had opened the window and drawn forward the yellow
+curtain, which, however, kept flapping in the breeze. She was alone. But
+she scarcely thought of the place towards which she was travelling; she
+scarcely thought of the man whom she was about to see again, or of what
+might be in store for her--she thought only of the strange words she had
+heard, an hour before her departure. She would gladly have forgotten
+them, at least for the next few days. Why was it that she had been unable
+to remain at home during those few short hours between dinner and her
+departure? What unrest had driven her on this glowing hot afternoon out
+from her room, on to the street, into the market, and bade her pass Herr
+Rupius' house? He was sitting there upon the balcony, his eyes fixed on
+the gleaming white pavement, and over his knees, as usual, was spread the
+great plaid rug, the ends of which were hanging down between the bars of
+the balcony railings; in front of him was the little table with a bottle
+of water and a glass. When he perceived Bertha his eyes became fixed upon
+her, as though he were making some request to her, and she observed that
+he beckoned her with a slight movement of the head.
+
+Why had she obeyed him? Why had she not taken his nod simply as a
+greeting and thanked him and gone upon her way? When, however, in answer
+to his nod, she turned towards the door of the house, she saw a smile of
+thanks glide over his lips and she found it still on his countenance when
+she went out to him on the balcony, through the cool, darkened room, and,
+taking his outstretched hand, sat down opposite to him on the other side
+of the little table.
+
+"How are you getting on?" she asked.
+
+At first he made no answer; then she observed from the working of his
+face that he wanted to say something, but seemed as if he was unable to
+utter a word.
+
+"She is going to ..." he broke out at length. These first words he
+uttered in an unnecessarily loud voice; then, as though alarmed at the
+almost shrieking tone, he added very softly: "My wife is going to
+leave me."
+
+Bertha involuntarily looked around her.
+
+Rupius raised his hands, as if to reassure her.
+
+"She cannot hear us She is in her room; she is asleep."
+
+Bertha was embarrassed.
+
+"How do you know?..." she stammered. "It is impossible--quite
+impossible!"
+
+"She is going away--away, for a time, as she says ... for a time ... do
+you understand?" "Why, yes, to her brother, I suppose."
+
+"She is going away for ever ... for ever! Naturally she does not like to
+say to me: Good-bye, you will never see me again! So she says: I should
+like to travel a little; I need a change; I will go to the lake for a few
+weeks; I should like to bathe; I need a change of air! Naturally she does
+not say to me: I can endure it no longer; I am young and in my prime and
+healthy; you are paralysed and will soon die; I have a horror of your
+affliction and of the loathsome state that must supervene before it is at
+an end. So she says: I will go away only for a few weeks, then I will
+come back again and stay with you."
+
+Bertha's painful agitation became merged in her embarrassment.
+
+"You are certainly mistaken," was all that she could answer.
+
+Rupius hastily drew up the rug, which was on the point of slipping down
+off his knees. He seemed to find it chilly. As he continued to speak, he
+drew the rug higher and higher, until finally he held it with both hands
+pressed against her breast.
+
+"I have seen it coming; for years I have seen this moment coming.
+Imagine what sort of an existence it has been; waiting for such a
+moment, defenceless and forced to be silent!--Why are you looking at me
+like that?"
+
+"Oh, no," said Bertha, looking down at the market square.
+
+"Well, I beg your pardon for referring to all this. I had no intention of
+doing so, but when I saw you walking past--well, thank you very much for
+having listened to me."
+
+"Please don't mention it," said Bertha, mechanically stretching out
+her hand to him. He did not notice it, however, and she let it lie
+upon the table.
+
+"Now it is all over," said Herr Rupius; "now comes the time of
+loneliness, the time of dread."
+
+"But has your wife ... she loves you, I'm sure of it!... I am quite
+certain that you are giving yourself needless anxiety. Wouldn't the
+simplest course be, Herr Rupius, for you to request your wife to forego
+this journey?"
+
+"Request?..." said Herr Rupius, almost majestically. "Can I pretend to
+have the right to do so? AH these last six or seven years have only been
+a favour which she has granted me. I beg you, consider it. During all
+these seven years not a word of complaint at the waste of her youth has
+passed her lips."
+
+"She loves you," said Bertha, decisively; "and that is the chief point."
+
+Herr Rupius looked at her for a long time.
+
+"I know what is in your mind, although you do not venture to say it. But
+your husband, my dear Frau Bertha, lies deep in the grave, and does not
+sleep by your side night after night."
+
+He looked up with a glance that seemed to ascend to Heaven as a curse.
+
+Time was getting on; Bertha thought of her train.
+
+"When is your wife going to start?"
+
+"Nothing has been said about that yet--but I am keeping you, perhaps?"
+
+"No, not at all, Herr Rupius, only.... Hasn't Anna told you? I'm going to
+Vienna to-day, you know."
+
+She grew burning red. Once more he gazed at her for a long time. It
+seemed to her as though he knew everything.
+
+"When are you coming back?" he asked drily.
+
+"In two or three days."
+
+She would have liked to say that he was mistaken, that she was not going
+to see a man whom she loved, that all these things about which he was
+worrying were sordid and mean, and really of not the slightest importance
+to women--but she was not clever enough to find the right words to
+express herself.
+
+"If you come back in two or three days' time you may, perhaps, find my
+wife still here. So, good-bye! I hope you will enjoy yourself."
+
+She felt that his glance had followed her as she went through the dark,
+curtained room and across the market square. And now, too, as she sat in
+the railway carriage, she felt the same glance and still in her ears kept
+ringing those words, in which there seemed to lie the consciousness of
+an immense unhappiness, which she had not hitherto understood. The
+torment of this recollection seemed stronger than the expectation of any
+joys that might be awaiting her, and the nearer she approached to the
+great city the heavier she became at heart. As she thought of the lonely
+evening that lay before her she felt as though she were travelling,
+without hope, towards some strange, uncertain destination. The letter,
+which she still carried in her bodice, had lost its enchantment; it was
+nothing but a piece of crackling paper, filled with writing, the corners
+of which were beginning to get torn. She tried to imagine what Emil now
+looked like. Faces bearing a slight resemblance to his arose before her
+mind's eye; many times she thought that she had surely hit upon the right
+one, but it vanished immediately. Doubts began to assail her as to
+whether she had done the right thing in travelling so soon. Why had she
+not waited, at least, until Monday?
+
+Then she was obliged, however, to confess to herself that she was going
+to Vienna to keep an appointment with a young man, with whom she had not
+exchanged a word for ten years, and who, perhaps, was expecting a quite
+different woman from the one who was travelling to see him on the morrow.
+Yes, that was the cause of all her uneasiness; she realized it now. The
+letter which was already beginning to chafe her delicate skin was
+addressed to Bertha, the girl of twenty; for Emil, of course, could not
+know what she looked like now. And, although for her own part, she could
+assure herself that her face still preserved its girlish features and
+that her figure, though grown fuller, still preserved the contours of
+youth, might he not see, in spite of all, how many changes a period of
+ten years had wrought in her, and, perhaps, even destroyed without her
+having noticed it herself?
+
+The train drew up at Klosterneuburg. Bertha's ears were assailed by the
+sound of many clear voices and the clatter of hurrying footsteps. She
+looked out of the window. A number of schoolboys crowded up to the train
+and, laughing and shouting, got into the carriages. The sight of them
+caused Bertha to call to mind the days of her childhood, when her
+brothers used to come back from picnics in the country, and suddenly
+there came before her eyes a vision of the blue room in which the boys
+had slept. She seemed to feel a tremor run through her as she realized
+how all the past was scattered to the wind; how those to whom she owed
+her existence had died, how those with whom she had lived for years under
+one roof were forgotten; how friendships which had seemed to have been
+formed to last for ever had become dissolved. How uncertain, how mortal,
+everything was!
+
+And he ... he had written to her as if in the course of those ten years
+nothing had changed, as if in the meantime there had not been funerals,
+births, sorrows, illnesses, cares and--for him, at least--so much good
+fortune and fame. Involuntarily she shook her head. A kind of perplexity
+in the face of so much that was incomprehensible came over her. Even the
+roaring of the train, which was carrying her along to unknown adventures,
+seemed to her as a chant of remarkable sadness. Her thoughts went back to
+the time, by no means remote, in fact no more than a few days earlier,
+when she had been tranquil and contented, and had borne her existence
+without desire, without regret and without wonder. However had it
+happened that this change had come over her? She could not understand.
+
+The train seemed to rush forward with ever-increasing speed towards its
+destination. Already she could see the smoke of the great city rising
+skywards as out of the depths. Her heart began to throb. She felt as if
+she was awaited by something vague, something for which she could not
+find a name, a thing with a hundred arms, ready to embrace her. Each
+house she passed knew that she was coming; the evening sun, gleaming on
+the roofs, shone to meet her; and then, as the train rolled into the
+station, she suddenly felt sheltered. Now for the first time, she
+realized that she was in Vienna, in _her_ Vienna, the town of her youth
+and of her dreams, that she was home. Had she not given the slightest
+thought to that before? She did not come from home--no, now she had
+arrived home. The din at the station filled her with a feeling of
+comfort, the bustle of people and carriages gladdened her, everything
+that was sorrowful had been shed from her.
+
+There she stood at the Franz Josef Station in Vienna, on a warm May
+evening, Bertha Garlan, young and pretty, free and accountable to no one,
+and on the morrow she was to see the only man whom she had ever
+loved--the lover who had called her.
+
+She put up at a little hotel near the station. She had determined to
+choose one of the less fashionable, partly for the sake of economy, and
+partly, too, because she stood in awe, to a certain extent, of smart
+waiters and porters. She was shown to a room on the third floor with a
+window looking out on the street. The chambermaid closed the window when
+the visitor entered, and brought some fresh water, the boots placed her
+box beside the stove, and the waiter placed before her the registration
+paper, which Bertha filled up immediately and unhesitatingly, with the
+pride that comes of a clear conscience.
+
+A feeling of freedom as regards external circumstances, such as she had
+not known for a long time, encompassed her; there were none of the petty
+domestic cares of the daily round, there was no obligation to talk to
+relations or acquaintances; she was at liberty that evening to do just as
+she liked.
+
+When she had changed her dress she opened the window. She had already
+been obliged to light the candles, but out of doors it was not yet quite
+dark. She leaned her elbows on the window-sill and looked down. Again she
+remembered her childhood, when she had often looked down out of the
+windows in the evenings, sometimes with one of her brothers, who had
+thrown his arm around her shoulders. She also thought of her parents with
+so keen an emotion that she was on the verge of tears.
+
+Down below the street lamps were already alight. Well, at all events, she
+must find something to do. She thought of what might be happening the
+next day at that hour.... She could not picture it to herself. At that
+moment, it just happened that a lady and gentleman drove by the hotel in
+a cab. If things turned out in accordance with her wishes, Emil and she
+should be going for a drive together into the country the next
+morning--yes, that would be nicest. Some quiet spot away from the town in
+a restaurant garden, a candle lamp on the table, and he beside her, hand
+in hand like a pair of young lovers. And then back again--and then....
+No, she would rather not imagine anything further! Where was he now, she
+wondered. Was he alone? Or was he at that very instant engaged in talking
+with some one? And with whom--a man?--a woman?--a girl? But, after all,
+was it any concern of hers? For the present it was certainly not any
+concern of hers. And to Emil it mattered just as little that Herr
+Klingemann had proposed to her the previous day, that Richard, her
+precocious nephew, kissed her sometimes, and that she had a great
+admiration for Herr Rupius. She would be sure to ask him on the
+morrow--yes, she must be certain as regards all these points before
+she ... well, before she went with him in the evening into the country.
+
+So then she decided to go out--but where? She stopped, irresolute, at
+the door. All she could do was to go for a short walk and then have
+supper ... but again, where? A lady alone.... No, she would have supper
+here in her room at the hotel, and go to bed early so that she might have
+a good night's rest and look fresh, young and pretty in the morning.
+
+She locked the door and went out into the street. She turned towards the
+inner town, and proceeded at a very sharp pace, for she did not like
+walking alone in the evening. Soon she reached the Ring and went past the
+University, and on to the Town Hall. But she took no pleasure at all in
+this aimless rambling. She felt bored and hungry, and went back to her
+hotel in a tramcar. She had no great desire to seek her room. From the
+street she had already noticed that the dining-room of the hotel was
+barely lighted and evidently empty. She had supper there, after which she
+grew tired and sleepy and, with an effort, went up the three flights of
+stairs to her room. As she sat on the bed and undid her shoe laces, she
+heard ten o'clock chime in a neighbouring church steeple.
+
+When she awoke in the morning she hurried, first of all, to the window
+and drew up the blinds with a great longing to see the daylight and the
+town. It was a sunny morning, and the air was as fresh as if it had come
+flowing down from a thousand springs in the forests and hills into the
+streets of the town. The beauty of the morning acted on Bertha as a good
+omen; she wondered at the strange, foolish manner in which she had spent
+the previous evening--as if she had not quite correctly understood why
+she had come to Vienna. The certainty that the repose of a whole night no
+longer separated her from the longed-for hour filled her with a sense of
+great gladness. All at once, she could no longer understand how it was
+that she could have come to Vienna, as she had done just recently,
+without daring to make even an attempt to see Emil. Finally, too, she
+wondered how it was that she had, for weeks, months, perhaps years,
+needlessly deferred availing herself of the opportunity of seeing him.
+The fact that she had scarcely thought of him during the whole time, did
+not occur to her at first, but, when at length she did realize it, she
+was amazed at that, most of all.
+
+At last only four more hours were to be endured, and then she would see
+him. She lay down on the bed again; she reclined, at first, with her eyes
+wide open, and she whispered to herself, as though she wanted to
+intoxicate herself with the words: "Come soon!" She heard Emil himself
+speak the words, no longer far away, no, but as though he were close by
+her side. His lips breathed them on hers: "Come soon!" he said, but the
+words meant: "Be mine! be mine!" She opened her arms as though making
+ready to press her beloved to her heart. "I love you," she said, and
+breathed a kiss into the air.
+
+At length she got up and dressed. This time she had brought with her a
+simple grey costume, cut in the English fashion, which, according to the
+general opinion of her friends, suited her very well, and she was quite
+content with herself when she had completed her toilet. She probably did
+not look like a fashionable lady of Vienna, but, on the other hand, she
+had not the appearance of a fashionable lady from the country either; it
+seemed to her that she looked more like a governess in the household of
+some Count or Prince, than anything else. Indeed, as a matter of fact,
+there was something of the young, unmarried lady in her aspect; no one
+would have taken her for a married woman and the mother of a
+five-year-old boy. She thought, with a slight sigh, that truly she would
+have done better to have remained unmarried. But, as to that, she was
+feeling that day very much like a bride.
+
+Nine o'clock! Still two long hours to wait! What could she do in the
+meantime? She sat down at the table, ordered coffee and sipped it slowly.
+There was no sense in remaining indoors any longer; it was better to go
+out into the open air at once.
+
+For a time she walked about the streets of the suburb, and she took a
+particularly keen pleasure in the wind blowing on her cheeks. She asked
+herself: What was Fritz doing at that moment? Probably Elly was playing
+with him. Bertha took the road which led towards the public gardens; she
+was glad to go for a walk through the avenues, in which, many years ago,
+she had played as a child. She entered the garden by the gate opposite
+the Burg-theatre. At that early hour of the day there were but few people
+in the gardens. Children were playing on the gravel; governesses and
+nursemaids were sitting on the seats; little girls were running about
+along the steps of the Temple of Theseus and under its colonnade. Elderly
+people were walking in the shade of the avenues; young men, who were
+apparently studying from large writing books, and ladies, who were
+reading books, had taken their seats in the cool shade of the trees.
+
+Bertha sat on a seat and watched two little girls who were jumping over a
+piece of string, as she had so often done herself, when a child--it
+seemed to her, in just the same spot. A gentle breeze blew through the
+foliage; from afar she heard the calls and laughter of some children
+playing "catch." The cries came nearer and nearer; and then the children
+ran trooping past her. She felt a thrill of pleasure when a young man in
+a long overcoat walked slowly by and turned round to look at her for a
+second time, when he reached the end of the avenue. Then there passed by
+a young couple; the girl, who had a roll of music in her hand, was
+neatly but somewhat strikingly dressed; the man was clean-shaven and was
+wearing a light summer suit and a tall hat. Bertha thought herself most
+experienced when she fancied that she was able with certainty to
+recognize in the girl a student of music, and in her companion a young
+man who had just gone on the stage. It was very pleasant to be sitting
+there, to have nothing to do, to be alone, and to have people walking,
+running and playing like this before her. Yes, it would be nice to live
+in Vienna and be able to do just as she liked. Well, who could say how
+everything would turn out, what the next few hours would bring forth,
+what prospects for her future life that evening would open out before
+her? What was it then, that really forced her to live in that dreadful
+little town? After all, in Vienna she would be able to supplement her
+income by giving music lessons just as easily as at home. Why not,
+indeed? Moreover, in Vienna, better terms were to be obtained for music
+lessons.... Ah, what an idea!... if he came to her aid; if he, the famous
+musician, recommended her? Why, certainly it would only need one word
+from him. What if she were to speak to him on the subject? And would it
+not also be a most advantageous arrangement in view of her child? In a
+few years' time he would have to go to school, and then, of course, the
+schools were so much better in Vienna than at home. No, it was quite
+impossible for her to pass all her life in the little town--she would
+have to move to Vienna, and that, too, at no distant date. Moreover, even
+if she had to economise here, and--and.... In vain she attempted to
+restrain the bold thoughts which now came rushing along.... If she should
+take Emil's fancy, if he should again ... if he should still be in love
+with her ... if he should ask her to be his wife? If she could be a bit
+clever, if she avoided compromising herself in any way, and understood
+how to fascinate him--she felt rather ashamed of her craftiness. But,
+after all, was it so bad that she should think of such things,
+considering that she was really in love with him, and had never loved any
+other man but him? And did not the whole tone of his letter give her the
+right to indulge in such thoughts?
+
+And then, when she realised that in a few minutes she was to meet him who
+was the object of her hopes, everything began to dance before her eyes.
+She rose to her feet, and nearly reeled. She saw the young couple, who
+had previously walked past her, leave the gardens by the road leading to
+the Burgplatz. She went off in the same direction. Yonder, she saw the
+dome of the Museum, towering and gleaming. She decided to walk slowly, so
+as not to appear too excited or even breathless when she met him. Once
+more she was seized with a thrill of fear--suppose he should not come?
+But whatever happened, she would not leave Vienna this time without
+seeing him.
+
+Would it not, perhaps, even be better if he did not come, she wondered.
+She was so bewildered at that moment ... and supposing she was to say
+anything silly or awkward.... So much depended on the next few
+minutes--perhaps her whole future....
+
+There was the Museum before her. Up the steps, through the entrance, and
+she was standing in the large, cool vestibule. Before her eyes was the
+grand staircase and, yonder, where it divided to right and left, was the
+colossal marble statue of Theseus slaying the Minotaur. Slowly she
+ascended the stairs and, as she looked round about her, she grew calmer.
+The magnificence of her surroundings captivated her. She looked up at the
+galleries which, with their golden railings, ran round the interior of
+the dome. She came to a stop. Before her was a door, above which appeared
+in gilt letters: "Dutch School."
+
+Her heart gave a sudden convulsive throb. Before her eyes lay the row of
+picture galleries. Here and there she saw people standing before the
+pictures. She entered the first hall, and gazed attentively at the first
+picture hanging at the very entrance. She thought of Herr Rupius'
+portfolio. And then she heard a voice say:
+
+"Good morning, Bertha."
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+
+It was his voice. She turned round. He was standing before her, young,
+slim, elegant and rather pale. In his smile there was a suggestion of
+mockery. He nodded to Bertha, took her hand at the same time, and held it
+for a while in his own. It was Emil himself, and it was exactly as if the
+last occasion on which they had spoken to one another had been only the
+previous day.
+
+"Good morning, Emil," she said.
+
+They gazed at each other. His glance was expressive of much: pleasure,
+amiability, and something in the nature of a scrutiny. She realised all
+this with perfect clearness, whilst she gazed at him with eyes in which
+nothing but pure happiness was shining.
+
+"Well, then, how are you getting on, Bertha?" he asked.
+
+"Quite well."
+
+"It is really funny that I should ask you such a question after eight or
+nine years. Things have probably gone very differently with you."
+
+"Yes, indeed, that's true. You know, of course, that my husband died
+three years ago."
+
+She felt obliged to assume an expression of sorrow.
+
+"Yes, I know that, and I know, too, that you have a boy. Let me see, who
+could it have been that told me?"
+
+"I wonder who?"
+
+"Well, it'll come back to me presently. It is new to me, though, that you
+are interested in pictures."
+
+Bertha smiled.
+
+"Well, it wasn't really on account of the pictures alone. But you mustn't
+think that I am quite so silly as all that. I do take an interest in
+pictures."
+
+"And so do I. If the truth must be told, I think I would rather be a
+painter than anything else."
+
+"Yet you ought to be quite satisfied with what you have attained."
+
+"Well, that's a question that can't be disposed of in one word. Of
+course, I find it a very pleasant thing to be able to play the violin so
+well, but what does it all lead to? Only to this, I think: that when I am
+dead my name will endure for a short time. That--" his eyes indicated the
+picture before which they were standing--"that, on the other hand, is
+something different."
+
+"You are awfully ambitious, Emil!"
+
+He looked at her, but without evincing the slightest interest in her.
+
+"Ambitious? Well, it is not such a simple matter as all that. But let's
+talk about something else. What a strange idea to indulge in a
+theoretical conversation on the subject of art, when we haven't seen
+each other for a hundred years! So come, then, Bertha, tell me something
+about yourself! What do you do with yourself at home? How do you live?
+And what really put it into your head to congratulate me on getting that
+silly Order?"
+
+She smiled a second time.
+
+"I wanted to write to you again," she answered; "and, chiefly, I wanted
+to hear something of you once more; It was really very good of you to
+answer my letter at once."
+
+"Good? Not at all, my child! I was so pleased when, all of a sudden, your
+letter came--I recognised your writing at once. You know, you still have
+the same schoolgirl writing as.... Well, let us say, as in the old days,
+although I can't bear such expressions."
+
+"But why?" she asked, somewhat astonished.
+
+He looked at her, and then said in a rapid voice:
+
+"Well, tell me, how do you live? You must generally get very bored,
+I'm sure."
+
+"I haven't much time for that," she replied gravely. "I give lessons, you
+must know."
+
+"Oh!"
+
+His tone was one of such disproportionate pity that she felt constrained
+to add quickly:
+
+"Oh, not because there is really any pressing need for me to do
+so--although, of course, I find it very useful, because ..." she felt
+that it would be best to be quite frank with him ... "I could scarcely
+live on the slender means that I possess."
+
+"What is it, then, that you are actually a teacher of?"
+
+"What! Didn't I tell you that I give piano lessons?"
+
+"Piano lessons? Really? Yes, of course ... you used to be very talented.
+If you hadn't left the Conservatoire when you did ... well, of course,
+you would not have become one of the great pianistes, you know, but for
+certain things you had quite a pronounced aptitude. For instance, you
+used to play Chopin and the little things of Schumann very prettily."
+
+"You still remember that?"
+
+"After all, I dare say that you have chosen the better course."
+
+"In what way?"
+
+"Well, if it is impossible to master everything, it is better, no doubt,
+to get married and have children."
+
+"I have only one child."
+
+He laughed.
+
+"Tell me something about him, and all about your own life in general."
+
+They sat down on the divan in the little saloon on front of the
+Rembrandts.
+
+"What have I to tell you about myself? There is nothing in it of the
+slightest interest. Rather, you tell me about yourself"--she looked at
+him with admiration--"things have gone so splendidly with you, you are
+such a celebrated man, you see!"
+
+Emil twitched his underlip very slightly, as if discontented.
+
+"Why, yes," she continued, undaunted; "quite recently I saw your portrait
+in an illustrated paper."
+
+"Yes, yes," he said impatiently.
+
+"But I always knew that you would make a name for yourself," she
+added. "Do you still remember how you played the Mendelssohn Concerto
+at that final examination at the Conservatoire? Everybody said the
+same thing then."
+
+"I beg you, my dear girl, don't, please, let us have any more of these
+mutual compliments! Tell me, what sort of a man was your late husband?"
+
+"He was a good; indeed, I might say noble, man."
+
+"Do you know, though, that I met your father about eight days
+before he died?"
+
+"Did you really?"
+
+"Didn't you know?"
+
+"I am certain he didn't tell me anything about it."
+
+"We stood chatting with one another in the street for a quarter of an
+hour, perhaps. I had just returned then from my first concert tour."
+
+"Not a word did he tell me--not a single word!"
+
+She spoke almost angrily, as though her father had, at that time,
+neglected something that might have shaped her future life differently.
+
+"But why didn't you come to see us in those days?" she continued. "How
+did it happen at all that you had already suddenly ceased to visit us
+some considerable time before my father's death?"
+
+"Suddenly?--Gradually!"
+
+He looked at her a long time; and now his eyes glided down over her whole
+body, so that she mechanically drew in her feet under her dress, and
+pressed her arms against her body, as though to defend herself.
+
+"Well, how did it happen that you came to get married?"
+
+She related the whole story. Emil listened to her, apparently with
+attention, but as she spoke on and remained seated, he rose to his feet
+and gazed out through the window.... When she had finished with a remark
+about the good-nature of her relations, he said:
+
+"Don't you think that we ought to look at a few pictures now that we are
+here in the Museum?"
+
+They walked slowly through the galleries, stopping here and there before
+a picture.
+
+"Lovely! Exquisite!" commented Bertha many a time, but Emil only nodded.
+
+It seemed to Bertha that he had quite forgotten that he was with her. She
+felt slightly jealous at the interest which the paintings roused in him.
+Suddenly they found themselves before one of the pictures which she knew
+from Herr Rupius' portfolio. Emil wanted to pass on, but she stopped and
+greeted it, as she might an old acquaintance.
+
+"Exquisite!" she exclaimed. "Emil, isn't it beautiful? On the whole, I
+greatly admire Falckenborg's pictures."
+
+He looked at her, somewhat surprised.
+
+She became embarrassed, and tried to go on talking.
+
+"Because such an immense quantity--because the whole world--"
+
+She felt that this was dishonest, even that she was robbing some one
+who could not defend himself; and accordingly she added, repentantly,
+as it were:
+
+"You must know, there's a man living in our little town who has an album,
+or rather a portfolio, of engravings, and that's how I know the picture.
+His name is Rupius, he is very infirm; just fancy, he is quite
+paralysed."
+
+She felt obliged to tell Emil all this, for it seemed to her as though
+his eyes were unceasingly questioning her.
+
+"That might be a chapter, too," he said, with a smile, when she had come
+to an end; then he added more softly, as though ashamed of his indelicate
+joke: "There must certainly also be gentlemen in that little town who are
+not paralysed."
+
+She felt that she had to take poor Herr Rupius under her protection.
+
+"He is a very unhappy man," she said, and, remembering how she had sat
+with him on the balcony the previous day, a feeling of great compassion
+seized her.
+
+But Emil was following his own train of thought.
+
+"Yes," he said; "that is what I should really like to know--what
+experiences you have had."
+
+"You know them, already."
+
+"I mean, since the death of your husband."
+
+She understood now what he meant, and was a little offended.
+
+"I live only for my boy," she said, with decision. "I do not allow men to
+make love to me. I am quite respectable."
+
+He had to laugh it the comically serious way in which she made this
+confession of virtue. For her part, she felt at once that she ought to
+have expressed herself differently, and so she laughed, too.
+
+"How long are you going to stay, then, in Vienna?" asked Emil.
+
+"Till to-morrow, or the day after to-morrow."
+
+"So short a time as that? And where are you staying? I should like to
+know."
+
+"With my cousin," she replied.
+
+Something restrained her from mentioning that she had put up at an
+hotel. But immediately she was angry with herself for having told such a
+stupid lie, and she was about to correct herself. Emil, however, broke
+in quickly:
+
+"Perhaps you will have a little time to spare for me, too? I hope so,
+at least."
+
+"Oh, yes!"
+
+"So, then, we can arrange something now if you like"--he glanced at the
+clock--"Ah!"
+
+"Must you go?" she asked.
+
+"Yes, by twelve o'clock I ought really to...."
+
+She was seized with an intense uneasiness at the prospect of having to be
+alone again so soon, and she said:
+
+"I have plenty of time--as much as you like. But, of course, it must not
+be too late."
+
+"Is your cousin so strict then?"
+
+"But--" she said, "this time, as a matter of fact, I'm not staying with
+her, you see."
+
+He looked at her in astonishment.
+
+She grew red.
+
+"Usually I do stay with her.... I mean, sometimes.... She has such a
+large family, you know."
+
+"So you are staying at an hotel," he said, rather impatiently. "Well,
+there, of course, you are accountable to no one, and we can spend the
+evening together quite comfortably."
+
+"I shall be delighted. But I should like not to be too late ... even in
+an hotel I should like not to be too late...."
+
+"Of course not. We will just have supper, and you can be in bed long
+before ten o'clock."
+
+They paced slowly down the grand staircase.
+
+"So, if you are agreeable," said Emil, "we will meet at seven o'clock."
+
+She was on the point of replying: "So late as that?"--but,
+remembering her resolution not to compromise herself, she refrained
+and answered instead:
+
+"Very well, at seven."
+
+"Seven o'clock at ... where?... Out of doors, shall we say? In that
+case we could go wherever we fancied, life would lie before us, so to
+speak ... yes."
+
+He seemed to her just then remarkably absent-minded. They went through
+the entrance hall, and at the exit they stopped for a moment.
+
+"At seven o'clock, then--by the Elizabeth Bridge."
+
+"Very well; seven o'clock at the Elizabeth Bridge."
+
+Before them lay the square, with the Maria Theresa memorial, in the
+brilliant glare of the noonday sun. It was a warm day, but a very high
+wind had arisen. It seemed to Bertha that Emil was looking at her with a
+scrutinising glance. At the same time, he appeared to her cold and
+strange, a very different man from what he had been when standing before
+the pictures in the Museum.
+
+"Now we will say good-bye for the present," he said, after a time.
+
+It made her feel somewhat unhappy to think that he was going to
+leave her.
+
+"Won't you ... or can't I come with you a little way?" she said.
+
+"Well, no," he answered. "Besides, it is blowing such a gale. There's not
+much enjoyment to be had in walking side by side and having to hold your
+hat all the time, for fear it should blow away. Generally, it is
+difficult to converse if you are walking with a person in the street,
+and then, too, I have to be in such a hurry.... But perhaps I can see you
+to a carriage?"
+
+"No, no, I shall walk."
+
+"Yes, you can do that. Well, good-bye till we meet again this evening."
+
+He stretched out his hand to her, and walked quickly away across the
+square. She gazed after him for a long time. He had taken off his hat and
+held it in his hand, and the wind was ruffling his hair. He went across
+the Ring, then through the Town Gate, and disappeared from Bertha's view.
+
+Mechanically, and very slowly, she had followed him. Why had he suddenly
+grown so cold? Why had he taken his departure so quickly? Why didn't he
+want her to accompany him? Was he ashamed of her? She looked down at
+herself, wondering whether she was not dressed, after all, in a
+countrified and ridiculous manner. Oh, no, it could not be that!
+Moreover, she had been able to remark from the way in which people gazed
+at her that she was not looking ludicrous, but, on the contrary,
+decidedly pretty. Why, then, this sudden departure? She called to mind
+the period of their previous acquaintance, and it seemed to her that she
+could remember his having this strange manner even then. He would break
+off a conversation quite unexpectedly, whilst he suddenly became as
+though his thoughts had been carried away, and his whole being expressed
+an impatience which he could not master.
+
+Yes, she was certain that he had been like that in those days also,
+though, perhaps, less strikingly so than now. She remembered, as well,
+that she had sometimes make jokes on the subject of his capriciousness,
+and had laid the responsibility at the door of his artistic temperament.
+Since then he had become a greater artist, and certainly more absent and
+irresponsible than ever.
+
+The chimes of noon rang out from many a spire, the wind grew higher and
+higher, dust flew into her eyes. She had a whole eternity before her,
+with which she did not know what to do. Why wouldn't he see her, then,
+until seven o'clock? Unconsciously, she had reckoned on his spending the
+whole day with her. What was it that he had to do? Had he, perhaps, to
+make his preparations for the concert? And she pictured him to herself,
+violin in hand, by a cabinet, or leaning on a piano, just as, many years
+ago, he had played before the company at her home. Yes, that would be
+nice if she could only be with him now, sitting in his room, on a sofa,
+while he played, or even accompanying him on the piano. Would she, then,
+have gone with him if he had asked her? Why hadn't he asked her? No, of
+course, he could not have done so within an hour of seeing her again....
+But in the evening--wouldn't he ask her that evening? And would she go
+with him? And, if she went, would she be able to deny him anything else
+that he might ask her? Indeed, he had a way of expressing everything so
+innocently. How easily he had managed to make those ten years seem as
+nothing! Had he not spoken to her as if they had seen each other daily
+all that time? "Good morning, Bertha. How are you, then?"--just as he
+might have asked if, on the previous evening, he had wished her "Good
+night!" and said "Good-bye till we meet again!" What a number of
+experiences he must have had since then! And who could tell who might be
+sitting on the sofa in his room that afternoon, while he leaned against
+the piano and played the violin? Ah, no, she would not think of it. If
+she followed up such thoughts to the end, would she not simply have to go
+home again?
+
+She walked past the railings of the public gardens, and could see the
+avenue where, an hour ago, she had sat, and through which clouds of dust
+were now sweeping. So, then, that for which she had so deeply yearned was
+over--she had seen Emil again. Had it been so lovely as she expected? Had
+she felt any particular emotion when walking by his side, his arm
+touching hers? No! Had his departure put her out of humour? Perhaps.
+Would she be able to go home again without seeing him once more? Good
+heavens, no! And a sensation almost of terror thrilled through her at the
+thought. Had not, then, her life during the past few days been, as it
+were, obsessed by him? And all the years that lay behind her, had they
+been meant for anything else, at all, than to lead her back to him at the
+right moment? Ah, if she only had a little more experience, if she were
+a little more worldly-wise! She would have liked to possess the
+capability of marking out for herself a definite course.
+
+She asked herself which would be the wiser--to be reserved or yielding?
+She would gladly have known what she was to do that evening, what she
+ought to do in order to win his heart with greater certainty. She felt
+that any move on her part, one way or the other, might have the effect
+of gaining him, or, just as well, of losing him. But she also realised
+that all her meditation was of no avail, and that she would do just as
+he wished.
+
+She was in front of the Votive Church, a spot where many streets
+intersected. The wind there was so violent as to be altogether
+intolerable. It was time to dine. But she decided that she would not go
+back to the little hotel that day. She turned towards the inner town. It
+suddenly occurred to her that she might meet her cousin, but that was a
+matter of supreme indifference to her. Or, supposing that her
+brother-in-law had followed her to Vienna? But that thought did not worry
+her either in the least. She had a feeling, such as she had never
+experienced before, that she had the right to dispose of her person and
+her time just as she pleased. She strolled leisurely along the streets,
+and amused herself by looking at the shop windows. On the Stephansplatz
+the idea came to her to go into the church for a while. In the dim, cool,
+and immense building a profound sensation of comfort came over her. She
+had never been of a religious disposition, but she could never enter a
+place of worship without experiencing a devotional feeling and, without
+clothing her prayers in definite form, she had yet always thought to find
+a way to send up her wishes to Heaven. At first she wandered round the
+church in the manner of a stranger visiting a beautiful edifice, then she
+sat down in a pew before a small altar in a side chapel.
+
+She called to mind the day on which she had been married, and she had a
+vision of her late husband and herself standing side by side before the
+priest--but the event seemed to be so infinitely far away in the past,
+and it affected her spirit as little as if her thoughts were occupied by
+strangers. But suddenly, as a picture changed in a magic lantern, she
+seemed to see Emil, instead of her husband, standing by her side, and the
+picture appeared to stand out so completely, without any co-operation on
+the part of her will, that she almost had to regard as a premonition,
+even as a prediction from Heaven itself. Mechanically, she folded her
+hands and said softly: "So be it." And, as though her will acquired
+thereby a further access of strength, she remained sitting in a pew a
+while longer and sought to hold the picture fast.
+
+After a few minutes she went out again into the street, where the broad
+daylight and the din of the traffic affected her as something new,
+something which she had not experienced for a long time, as though she
+had spent whole hours in the church. She felt tranquil, and hopes seemed
+to hover about her.
+
+She dined in the restaurant of a fashionable hotel in the
+Kaernthernstrasse.... She was not in the least embarrassed, and thought it
+very childish that she had not preferred to put up at a first-class
+hotel. On reaching her room again, she undressed and, such was the state
+of languor into which she had fallen as the result of the unusually rich
+meal and the wine she had taken, that she had to stretch herself out on
+the sofa and fall asleep. It was five o'clock before she awoke. She had
+no great desire to get up. Usually at that time ... what would she
+probably have been doing at that moment if she had not come to Vienna? If
+he had not answered her letter--if she had not written to him? If he had
+not received that Order? If she had never seen his portrait in the
+illustrated paper? If nothing had called his existence back into her
+memory? If he had become an insignificant, unknown fiddler in some
+suburban orchestra? What strange thoughts were these! Did she, then, love
+him merely because he was celebrated? What did it all mean? Did she,
+indeed, take any interest in his violin playing? ... Wouldn't he be
+dearer to her if he was not famous and admired? Certainly in that case
+she would have felt herself much nearer to him, much more allied to him;
+in that case, she would not have had this feeling of uncertainty about
+him, and also he would have been different in his manner towards her. As
+it was, of course, he was, indeed, very charming, and yet ... she
+realized it now ... something had come between them that day and had
+sundered them. Yes, and that was nothing else than the fact that he was a
+man whom the whole world knew, and she was nothing but a stupid little
+woman from the country. Suddenly she pictured him to herself as he had
+stood in the Rembrandt gallery at the Museum, and had looked out of the
+window while she had been telling him the story of her life in the little
+town; she remembered how he had scarcely bidden her good-bye, and how he
+had gone away from her, indeed, absolutely fled away from her. But, then,
+had she herself felt any emotion such as a woman would feel in the
+presence of the man she loved? Had she been happy when he had been
+speaking to her? Had she longed to kiss him when he was standing beside
+her?... Not at all. And now--was she pleased at the prospect of the
+evening she was going to spend with him? Was she pleased at the idea of
+seeing him again in a couple of hours? If she had the power, simply by
+expressing the wish, to transport herself just where she pleased, would
+she not, perhaps, at that, moment, rather be at home, with her boy,
+walking between the vine-trellises, without fear, without agitation, and
+with a clear conscience; as a good mother and a respectable woman,
+instead of lying in that uncomfortable room in the hotel, on a miserable
+sofa, restlessly, yet without longing, awaiting the next hours? She
+thought of the time, still so near, when all her concern was for nothing
+save her boy, the household, and her lessons--had she not been contented,
+almost happy?...
+
+She looked round her. The bare room with the ugly blue and white painted
+walls, the specks of dust and dirt on the ceiling, the cabinet with its
+half-open door, all seemed most repulsive to her. No, that was no place
+for her. Then she thought with displeasure, too, of the dinner in the
+fashionable hotel, and also of her strolling about in the town, her
+weariness, the wind and the dust. It seemed to her that she had been
+wandering about like a tramp. Then another thought came to her: what if
+something had happened at home!--Fritz might have caught the fever; they
+would telegraph to her cousin at Vienna, or they might even come to look
+for her, and they would not be able to find her, and all would know that
+she had lied like any disreputable person whose purpose it suits to do
+so.... It was terrible! How could she face them at home, her
+sister-in-law, her brother-in-law, Elly, her grown-up nephew Richard ...
+the whole town, which, of course, would hear the news at once.... Herr
+Rupius! No, in good truth, she was not intended for such things! How
+childishly and clumsily, after all, she had set about it, so that only
+the slightest accident was needed to betray her. Had she, then, failed to
+give the least thought to all these things? Had she only been obsessed
+with the idea of seeing Emil once more, and for that had hazarded
+everything ... her good name, even her whole future! For who could say
+whether the family would not renounce her, and she would lose her music
+lessons, if the truth came out?... The truth.... But what could come out?
+What had happened, then? What had she to reproach herself with? And with
+the comforting feeling of a clear conscience she was able boldly to
+answer: "Nothing." And, of course, there was still time.... She could
+leave Vienna directly by the seven o'clock train, be back by ten in her
+own home, in her own cosy room, with her beloved boy.... Yes, she could;
+to be sure, Fritz was not at home ... but she could have him brought
+back.... No, she would not do it, she would not return at once ... there
+was no occasion to do so--to-morrow morning would be quite time enough.
+She would say good-bye to Emil that very evening.... Yes, she would
+inform him at once that she was returning home early next morning, and
+that her only reason in coming had been to press his hand once more. Yes,
+that would be best.
+
+Oh, he could, of course, accompany her to the hotel; and, goodness
+knows, he could even have supper with her in the garden restaurant ...
+and she would go away as she had come.... Besides, she would see from
+his behaviour what he really felt towards her; she would be very
+reserved, even cold; it would be quite easy for her to act in that way,
+because she felt completely at her ease. It seemed to her as if all her
+desires had fallen into slumber again, and she had a feeling akin to a
+determination to remain respectable. As a young girl she had withstood
+temptation, she had been faithful to her husband; her whole widowhood
+had hitherto passed without attack.... Well, the long and the short of
+it was: if he wished to make her his wife she would be very glad, but
+she would reject any bolder proposal with the same austerity as ... as
+... twelve years before, when he had showed her his window behind St.
+Paul's Church.
+
+She stood up, stretched herself, held up her hands, and went to the
+window. The sky had become overcast, clouds were moving down from the
+mountains, but the storm had subsided.
+
+She got ready to go out.
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+
+Bertha had hardly proceeded a few steps from the hotel when it began to
+rain. Under her open umbrella she seemed to herself to be protected
+against unwelcome attentions from people she might meet. A pleasant
+fragrance was diffused throughout the air, as if the rain brought with it
+the aroma of the neighbouring woods, shedding it over the town. Bertha
+gave herself up wholly to the pleasure of the walk; even the object of
+her outing appeared before her mind's eye only vaguely, as if seen
+through a mist. She had at last grown so weary as the result of the
+profusion of her changing feelings that she no longer felt anything at
+all. She was without fear, without hope, without purpose. She walked on
+past the gardens, across the Ring, and rejoiced in the humid fragrance of
+the elder-trees. In the forenoon it had completely escaped her notice
+that everything was beautiful in an array of violet blossoms. An idea
+brought a smile to her lips: she went into a flower shop and bought a
+little bunch of violets. As she raised the flowers to her lips, a great
+tenderness came over her; she thought of the train going homewards at
+seven o'clock, and she rejoiced, as if she had outwitted some one.
+
+She walked slowly across the bridge, diagonally, and remembered how she
+had crossed it a few days ago in order to reach the neighbourhood of her
+former home, and to see Emil's window again. The throng of traffic at the
+bridge was immense; two streams, one coming from the suburb into the
+town, the other going in the opposite direction, poured by in confusion;
+carriages of all kinds rolled past; the air resounded with the jingling
+of bells, with whistling and with the shouts of drivers. Bertha tried to
+stand still, but was pushed forward.
+
+Suddenly she heard a whistle quite close by. A carriage pulled up, a head
+leaned out of the window ... it was Emil. He made a sign to her to come
+over to him. A few people immediately became attentive, and seemed very
+anxious to hear what the young man had to say to the lady who had gone up
+to his carriage.
+
+"Will you get in?" Emil asked in a low voice.
+
+"Get in...?"
+
+"Why, yes, it is raining, you see!"
+
+"Really, I would rather walk, if you don't mind."
+
+"Just as you like," said Emil.
+
+He got out quickly and paid the driver. Bertha observed, with some alarm,
+that about half a dozen people, who were crowding round her, were very
+anxious to see how this remarkable affair would turn out.
+
+"Come," said Emil.
+
+They quickly crossed the road, and thereby got away from the whole
+throng. They then walked slowly along a less frequented street by the
+bank of the Wien.
+
+"Why, Emil, you haven't brought your umbrella with you!"
+
+"Won't you take me under yours? Wait a moment, it won't do like this."
+
+He took the umbrella out of her hand, held it over both of them, and
+thrust his arm under hers. Now she felt that it was _his_ arm, and
+rejoiced greatly.
+
+"The country, unfortunately, is out of the question," he said.
+
+"What a pity."
+
+"Well, what have you been doing with yourself all day long?"
+
+She told him about the fashionable restaurant, in which she had had
+her dinner.
+
+"Now, why on earth didn't I know about that? I thought you were dining
+with your cousin. We might, of course, have had such a pleasant lunch
+together!"
+
+"You have had so much to do, I dare say," she said, a little proud at
+being able to infuse a slight tone of sarcasm into her voice.
+
+"Yes, that's true, in the afternoon, of course. I had to listen to half
+an opera."
+
+"Oh? How was that, then?"
+
+"There was a young composer with me--a very talented fellow, in
+his own way."
+
+She was very glad to hear that. So that, then, was the way in which he
+spent his afternoons.
+
+He stood still and, without letting go her arm, looked into her face.
+
+"Do you know that you have really grown much prettier? Yes, I am quite
+serious about it! But, tell me, first of all, tell me candidly, how the
+idea came to you to write to me."
+
+"Why, I have already told you."
+
+"Have you thought of me, then, all this time?"
+
+"A great deal."
+
+"When you were married, too?"
+
+"Certainly, I have always thought of you. And you?"
+
+"Often, very often."
+
+"But ..."
+
+"Well, what?"
+
+"You are a man, you see!"
+
+"Yes--but what do you mean by that?"
+
+"I mean that certainly you must have loved many women."
+
+"Loved ... loved ... yes, I suppose I have."
+
+"But I," she broke out with animation, as though the truth was too strong
+to be restrained within her; "I have loved no one but you."
+
+He took her hand and raised it to his lips.
+
+"I think we might rather leave that undecided, though," he said.
+
+"Look, I have brought some violets with me for you."
+
+He smiled.
+
+"Are they to prove that you have told me the truth? Anybody would think,
+from the way in which you said that, that you have done nothing else
+since we last met but pluck, or, at least, buy, violets for me. However,
+many thanks! But tell me, why didn't you want to get into the carriage?"
+
+"Oh, but you know, a walk is so nice."
+
+"But we can't walk forever.... We are having supper together, though?"
+
+"Yes, I shall be delighted--for instance, here in an hotel," she
+added hastily.
+
+At that time they were walking through quieter streets, and it was
+growing dusk.
+
+Emil laughed.
+
+"Oh, no, we will arrange things a little more cosily than that."
+
+Bertha cast her eyes down.
+
+"However, we mustn't sit at the same table as strangers," she said.
+
+"Certainly not. We will even go somewhere where there is nobody
+else at all."
+
+"What are you thinking of?" she asked. "I don't do that sort of thing!"
+
+"Just as you please," he answered, shrugging his shoulders. "Have you an
+appetite yet?"
+
+"No, not at all."
+
+They were both silent for a time.
+
+"Shall I not make the acquaintance of your boy some day?" he asked.
+
+"Certainly," she replied, greatly pleased; "whenever you wish."
+
+She began to tell him about Fritz, and then went on to speak about her
+family. Emil threw in a question at times, and soon he knew all that
+happened in the little town, even down to the efforts of Klingemann, of
+which Bertha gave him an account, laughingly, but with a certain
+satisfaction.
+
+The street lamps were alight; the rays glittered on the damp pavements.
+
+"My dear girl, we can't stroll about the streets all night, you know,"
+said Emil suddenly.
+
+"No ... but I cannot come with you ... into a restaurant.... Just think,
+if I should happen to meet my cousin or anyone else!"
+
+"Make your mind easy, no one will see us."
+
+Quickly he passed through a gateway and closed the umbrella.
+
+"What are you going to do, then?"
+
+She saw a large garden before her. Near the walls, from which canvas
+shelters were stretched, people were sitting at tables, laid for supper.
+
+"There, do you mean?"
+
+"No. Just come with me."
+
+Immediately on the right of the gate was a small door, which had been
+left ajar.
+
+"Come in here."
+
+They found themselves in a narrow, lighted passage, on both sides of
+which were rows of doors. A waiter bowed and went in front of them, past
+all the doors. The last one he opened, allowed the guests to enter, and
+closed it again after them.
+
+In the centre of the little room stood a small table laid for three; by
+the wall was a blue velvet sofa, and opposite that hung a gilt framed
+oval mirror, before which Bertha took her hat off and, as she did so,
+she noticed that the names "Irma" and "Rudi" had been scratched on the
+glass. At the same time, she saw in the mirror Emil coming up behind
+her. He placed his hands on her cheeks, bent her head back towards
+himself, and kissed her on the lips. Then he turned away without
+speaking, and rang the bell.
+
+A very young waiter came in at once, as if he had been standing outside
+the door. When he had taken his order he left them, and Emil sat down.
+"Well, Bertha!"
+
+She turned towards him. He took her gently by the hand and still
+continued to hold it in his, when Bertha had taken a seat beside him on
+the sofa. Mechanically she touched her hair with her other hand.
+
+An older waiter came in, and Emil made his choice from the menu. Bertha
+agreed to everything. When the waiter had departed, Emil said:
+
+"Mustn't the question be asked: How is it that all this hasn't happened
+before to-day?"
+
+"What do you mean by that?"
+
+"Why didn't you write to me long ago?"
+
+"Well, I would ... if you had got your Order sooner!"
+
+He held her hand and kissed it.
+
+"But you come to Vienna fairly often!"
+
+"Oh, no."
+
+He looked up.
+
+"But you said something like that in your letter!"
+
+She remembered then, and grew red.
+
+"Well, yes ... often ... Monday was the last time I was here."
+
+The waiter brought sardines and caviar, and left the room.
+
+"Well," said Emil; "it is probably just the right time."
+
+"In what way?"
+
+"That we should have met again."
+
+"Oh, I have often longed for you."
+
+He seemed to be deep in thought.
+
+"And perhaps it is also just as well that things _then_ turned out as
+they did," he said. "It is on that very account that the recollection is
+so charming."
+
+"Yes, charming."
+
+They were both silent for a time.
+
+"Do you remember ..." she said, and then she began to talk of the old
+days, of their walks in the town-park, and of her first day at the
+Conservatoire.
+
+He nodded in answer to everything she said, held his arm on the back of
+the sofa, and lightly touched the lock of hair, which curled over the
+nape of her neck. At times he threw in a word. Then Emil himself
+recalled something which she had forgotten; he had remembered a further
+outing: a trip to the Prater one Sunday morning.
+
+"And do you still recollect," said Bertha, "how we ..." she hesitated to
+utter it--"once were almost in love with each other?"
+
+"Yes," he said. "And who knows ..."
+
+He was perhaps about to say: "It would have been better for me if I had
+married you"--but he did not finish the sentence.
+
+He ordered champagne.
+
+"It is not so long ago," said Bertha, "since I tasted champagne. The last
+time was about six months ago, at the party which my brother-in-law gave
+on the occasion of his fiftieth birthday."
+
+She thought of the company at her brother-in-law's, and it was amazing
+how remote from the present time it all seemed--the entire little town
+and all who lived there.
+
+The young waiter brought an ice-tub with the wine. At that moment it
+occurred to Bertha that Emil had certainly been there before, many a
+time, with other women. That, however, was a matter of tolerable
+indifference to her.
+
+They clinked glasses and drank. Emil embraced Bertha and kissed her. That
+kiss reminded her of something ... what could it have been, though?... Of
+the kisses she had received when a young girl?... Of the kiss of her
+husband?... No.... Then it suddenly occurred to her that it was exactly
+like the kisses which her young nephew Richard had lately given to her.
+
+The waiter came in with fruit and pastry. Emil put some dates and a bunch
+of grapes on a plate for Bertha.
+
+"Why don't you say something?" she asked. "Why do you leave me to do all
+the talking? And you know you could tell me so much!"
+
+"I?..."
+
+He slowly sipped the wine.
+
+"Why, yes, about your tours."
+
+"Good Heavens, one town is just like all the others. You must not, of
+course, lose sight of the fact that I only rarely travel for my own
+pleasure."
+
+"Quite so, of course."
+
+During the whole time she had not given a thought to the fact that it was
+Emil Lindbach, the celebrated violin virtuoso, with whom she was sitting
+there; and she felt bound to say:
+
+"By the way, you are playing in Vienna soon. I should be very glad to
+hear you."
+
+"Not a soul will hinder you from doing so," he replied drily.
+
+It passed through her mind that it would really be very much nicer for
+her to hear him play, not at the concert, but for herself alone. She had
+almost said so, but then it occurred to her that that would have meant
+nothing else than: "I will come with you"--and, who could say, perhaps
+very soon she would go with him. It would be as easy for her as ever, if
+she had had some wine.... Yet, not so, the wine was affecting her
+differently from usual--it was not the soft inebriation which made her
+feel a little more cheerful; it was better, lovelier. It was not the few
+drops of wine that made it so; it was the touch of his dear hand, as he
+stroked her brow and hair. He had sat down beside her and he drew her
+head onto his shoulder. How gladly would she have fallen asleep like
+that.... Yes, indeed, nothing else did she desire.... Then she heard him
+whisper: "Darling."... She trembled softly.
+
+Why was this the first time? Could she not have had all this before? Was
+there a grain of sense in living as she did?... After all, there was
+nothing wicked in what she was doing now.... And how sweet it was to feel
+the breath of a young man upon her eyelids!... No, not--not the breath of
+a young man... of a lover....
+
+She had shut her eyes. She made not the slightest effort to open them
+again, she had not the least desire to know where she was, or with whom
+she was.... Who was it, after all?... Richard?... No.... Was she falling
+asleep, then?... She was there with Emil.... With whom?... But who was
+this Emil?... How hard it was to be clear as to who it was!... The breath
+upon her eyelids was the breath of the man she had loved when a girl ...
+and, at the same time, that of the celebrated artist who was soon to
+give a concert ... and, at the same time, of a man whom she had not seen
+for thousands and thousands of days ... and, at the same time, of a
+gentleman with whom she was sitting alone in a restaurant, and who, at
+that moment, could do with her just as he pleased.... She felt his kiss
+upon her eyes.... How tender he was ... and how handsome.... But what did
+he really look like, then?... She had only to open her eyes to be able to
+see him quite plainly.... But she preferred to imagine what he was like,
+without actually seeing him.... No, how funny--why, that was not in the
+least like his face!... Of course, it was the face of the young waiter,
+who had left the room a minute or two before.... But what did Emil look
+like, after all?... Like this?... No, no, of course, that was Richard's
+face.... But away ... away.... Was she then so low as to think of nothing
+but other men while she ... was with him?... If she could only open her
+eyes!... Ah!
+
+She shook herself violently, so that she almost pushed Emil away--and
+then she tore her eyes wide open.
+
+Emil gazed at her, smiling.
+
+"Do you love me?" he asked.
+
+She drew him towards her and kissed him of her own accord.... It was the
+first time that day that she had given him a kiss of her own accord, and
+in doing so she felt that she was not acting in accordance with her
+resolve of the morning.... She tried to think what that resolve had
+been.... To compromise herself in no way; to deny herself.... Yes, there
+had certainly been a time when that had been her wish, but why? She was
+in love with him, really and truly; and the moment had arrived which she
+had been awaiting for days.... No, for years!
+
+Still their lips remained pressed together.... Ah, she longed to feel his
+arms about her ... to be his, body and soul. She would not let him talk
+any more ... he would have to take her unto himself.... He would have to
+realize that no other woman could love him so well as she did....
+
+Emil rose to his feet and paced up and down the little room a few times.
+Bertha raised her glass of champagne to her lips again.
+
+"No more, Bertha," said Emil, in a low tone.
+
+Yes, he was right, she thought. What was she really doing? Was she going
+to make herself drunk, then? Was there any need for that? After all, she
+was accountable to no one, she was free, she was young; she was
+determined to taste of happiness at last.
+
+"Ought we not to be thinking of going?" said Emil.
+
+Bertha nodded. He helped her to put on her jacket. She stood before the
+mirror and stuck the pin through her hat. They went. The young waiter was
+standing before the door; he bowed. A carriage was standing before the
+gate; Bertha got in; she did not hear what instructions Emil gave the
+driver. Emil took his seat by her side. Both were silent; they sat
+pressing closely against each other. The carriage rolled on, a long, long
+way. Wherever could it be, then, that Emil lived? But, perhaps, he had
+purposely told the driver to take a circuitous route, knowing, no doubt,
+how pleasant it was to drive together through the night like this.
+
+The carriage pulled up. Emil got out.
+
+"Give me your umbrella," he said.
+
+She handed it out to him and he opened it. Then she got out and they both
+stood under the shelter of the umbrella, on which the rain was rattling
+down. Was this the street in which he lived? The door opened; they
+entered the hall; Emil took a candle which the porter handed to him.
+Before them was a fine broad staircase. When they reached the first floor
+Emil opened a door. They passed through an ante-chamber into a
+drawing-room. With the candle which he held in his hand Emil lighted two
+others upon the table; then he went up to Bertha, who was still standing
+in the doorway, as though waiting, and led her further into the room. He
+took the pin out of her hat, and placed the hat upon the table. In the
+uncertain light of the two feebly-burning candles, Bertha could only see
+that a few coloured pictures were hanging on the wall--portraits of the
+Emperor and Empress, so it appeared to her--that, on one side, was a
+broad divan covered with a Persian rug and that, near the window, there
+was an upright piano with a number of framed photographs on the lid.
+Over the piano a picture was hanging, but Bertha was unable to make it
+out. Yonder, she saw a pair of red curtains hanging down beside a door,
+which was standing half open and through the broad folds something white
+and gleaming could be seen within.
+
+She could no longer restrain the question:
+
+"Do you live here?"
+
+"As you see."
+
+She looked straight before her. On the table stood a couple of little
+glasses, a decanter containing liqueur and a small epergne, loaded with
+fruit and pastry.
+
+"Is this your study?" asked Bertha.
+
+Mechanically her eyes sought for a desk such as violin players use. Emil
+put his arm round her waist and led her to the piano. He sat down on the
+piano stool and drew her on to his knees.
+
+"I may as well confess to you at once," he said to her, simply and almost
+drily, "that really I do not live here. It was only for our own sake ...
+that I have ... for a short while ... I deemed it prudent ... Vienna, you
+know, is a small town, and I didn't want to take you into my house at
+night-time."
+
+She understood, but was not altogether satisfied. She looked up. She was
+now able to see the outlines of the picture which was hanging above the
+piano.... It was a naked female figure. Bertha had a curious desire to
+examine the picture, close at hand.
+
+"What is that?" she asked.
+
+"It is not a work of art," said Emil.
+
+He struck a match and held it up, so as to throw the light on the
+picture. Bertha saw that it was merely a wretched daub, but at the same
+time she felt that the painted woman, with the bold laughing eyes, was
+looking down at her, and she was glad when the match went out.
+
+"You might just play something to me upon the piano," said Emil.
+
+She wondered at the coldness of his demeanour. Didn't he realize that
+she was with him?... But, on the other hand, did she herself feel any
+special emotion?... No.... A strange sadness seemed to come welling
+forth from every corner of the room.... Why hadn't he rather taken her
+to his own house?... What sort of a house was this, she wondered.... She
+regretted now that she had not drunk more wine.... She wished that she
+was not so sober....
+
+"Well, won't you play something to me?" said Emil. "Just think how long
+it is since I have heard you."
+
+She sat down and struck a chord.
+
+"Indeed, I have forgotten everything."
+
+"Oh, do try!"
+
+She played very softly Schumann's Albumblatt, and she remembered how, a
+few days before, late in the evening, she had improvised as she was
+sitting at home, and Klingemann had walked up and down in front of the
+window. She could not help thinking also of the report that he had a
+scandalous picture in his room. And involuntarily, she glanced up again
+at the picture of the naked woman over the piano, but now the figure
+seemed to be gazing into space.
+
+Emil had brought a chair beside Bertha's. He drew her towards him and
+kissed her while her fingers first continued to play, and at length
+rested quietly upon the keys. Bertha heard the rain beating against the
+window-panes and a sensation as of being at home came over her.
+
+Then she felt as though Emil was lifting her up and carrying her. Without
+letting her out of his arms he had stood up and was slowly bearing her
+out of the room. She felt her right arm graze against the curtain.... She
+kept her eyes closed; she could feel Emil's cool breath upon her hair....
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+
+When they went out into the street the rain had left off, but the air was
+permeated with a wondrous mildness and humidity. Most of the street lamps
+had already been extinguished; the one at the street corner was the
+nearest that was alight; and, as the sky was still overcast with clouds,
+deep darkness hung over the city. Emil had offered Bertha his arm; they
+walked in silence. From a church tower a clock struck--one. Bertha was
+surprised. She had believed that it must be nearly morning, but now she
+was glad at heart to wander mutely through the night in the still, soft
+air, leaning on his arm--because she loved him very much.
+
+They entered an open square; before them lay the Church of St. Charles.
+
+Emil hailed a driver who had fallen asleep, sitting on the footboard of
+his open carriage.
+
+"It is such a fine night," said Emil; "we can still indulge in a short
+drive before I take you to your hotel--shall we?"
+
+The carriage started off. Emil had taken off his hat; she laid it in her
+lap, an action which also afforded her pleasure. She took a sidelong
+glance at Emil; his eyes seemed to be looking into the distance.
+
+"What are you thinking of?"
+
+"I ... To tell the truth, Bertha, I was thinking of a melody out of the
+opera, which that man I was telling you about played to me this
+afternoon. But I can't get it quite right."
+
+"You are thinking of melodies now ..." said Bertha, smiling, but with a
+slight-tone of reproach in her voice.
+
+Again there was silence. The carriage drove slowly along the deserted
+Ringstrasse, past the Opera House, the Museum and the public gardens.
+
+"Emil?"
+
+"What do you want, my darling?"
+
+"When shall I at last have an opportunity of hearing you play again?"
+
+"I am playing at a concert to-day, as a matter of fact," he said, as if
+it were a joke.
+
+"No, Emil, that was not what I meant--I want you to play to me alone. You
+will do that just once ... won't you? Please!"
+
+"Yes, yes."
+
+"It would mean so much to me. I should like you to know that there was no
+one in the room except myself listening to you."
+
+"Quite so. But never mind that now, though."
+
+He spoke in such a decided tone of voice that it seemed as if he was
+defending something from her. She could not understand for what reason
+her request could have been distasteful to him, and she continued:
+
+"So then it is settled: to-morrow at five o'clock in the evening at
+your house?"
+
+"Yes, I am curious to see whether you will like it there."
+
+"Oh, of course I shall. Surely it will be much nicer being at your house
+than at that place where we have been this evening. And shall we spend
+the evening together? Do you know, I am just thinking whether I ought not
+to see my cousin...."
+
+"But, my dearest one, please, don't let us map out a definite programme."
+
+In saying this he put his arm round her neck, as if he wanted to make her
+feel the tenderness which was absent from the tone of his voice.
+
+"Emil!"
+
+"Well?"
+
+"To-morrow we will play the Kreatzer Sonata together--the Andante
+at least."
+
+"But, my dear child, we've talked enough about music; do let us drop the
+subject. I am quite prepared to believe that you are immensely
+interested in it."
+
+Again he spoke in that vague way, from which she could not tell whether
+he really meant what he said or had spoken ironically. She did not,
+however, venture to ask. At the same time her yearning at that moment to
+hear him play the violin was so keen that it was almost painful.
+
+"Ah, here we are near your hotel, I see!" exclaimed Emil; and, as if
+he had completely forgotten his wish to go for a drive with her
+before leaving her at her door, he called out the name of the hotel to
+the driver.
+
+"Emil--"
+
+"Well, dearest?"
+
+"Do you still love me?"
+
+Instead of answering he pressed her close to him and kissed her on the
+lips.
+
+"Tell me, Emil--"
+
+"Tell you what?"
+
+"But I know you don't like anybody to ask much of you."
+
+"Never mind, my child, ask anything you like."
+
+"What will you.... Tell me, what are you accustomed to do with your
+forenoons?"
+
+"Oh, I spend them in all sorts of ways. To-morrow, for instance, I am
+playing the violin solo in Haydn's Mass in the Lerchenfeld Church."
+
+"Really? Then, of course, I won't have to wait any longer than to-morrow
+morning before I can hear you."
+
+"If you want to. But it is really not worth the trouble.... That is to
+say, the Mass itself, of course, is very beautiful."
+
+"However does it happen that you are going to play in the
+Lerchenfeld Church?"
+
+"It is ... an act of kindness on my part."
+
+"For whom?"
+
+"For whom ... well, for Haydn, of course."
+
+A thrill of pain seemed to seize Bertha. At that moment she felt that
+there must be some special connexion between it and his taking part in
+the Mass at the Lerchenfeld Church. Perhaps some woman was singing in the
+Mass, who.... Ah, what did she know, after all?... But she would go to
+the church, yes, she must go ... she could let no other woman have Emil!
+He belonged to her, to her alone ... he had told her so, indeed.... And
+she would find a way to hold him fast... She had, she told herself, such
+infinite tenderness for him ... she had reserved all her love for him
+alone.... She would completely envelop him in it ... no more would he
+yearn for any other woman.... She would move to Vienna, be with him each
+day, be with him for ever.
+
+"Emil--"
+
+"Well, what is the matter with you, darling?"
+
+He turned towards her and looked at her rather uneasily.
+
+"Do you love me? Good Heavens, here we are already!"
+
+"Really?" said Emil, with surprise.
+
+"Yes--there, do you see?--that's where I am staying. So tell me, please,
+Emil, tell me once more--"
+
+"Yes, to-morrow at five o'clock, my darling. I am very glad."
+
+"No, not that.... Tell me, do you--" The carriage stopped. Emil waited by
+Bertha's side until the porter came out and opened the door, then he
+kissed her hand with the most ceremonious politeness, and said:
+
+"Good-bye till we meet again, dear lady."
+
+He drove away.
+
+Bertha's sleep that night was sound and heavy.
+
+When she awoke, the light of the morning sun was streaming around her.
+She remembered the previous evening, and she was very glad that something
+which she had imagined to be so hard, and almost grievous, had been done
+and had proved to be quite easy and joyous. And then she felt a thrill of
+pride on recollecting her kisses, which had had nothing in them of the
+timidity of a first adventure. She could not observe the slightest trace
+of repentance in her heart, although it occurred to her that it was
+conventional to be penitent after such things as she had experienced.
+Words, too, like "sin" and "love affair" passed through her mind, without
+being able to linger in her thoughts, because they seemed to be devoid of
+all meaning. She believed herself certain that she replied to Emil's
+tenderness just like a woman accomplished in the art of love, and was
+very happy in the thought that all those things which came to other women
+as the result of the experiences of nights of drunkenness had come to her
+from the depth of her feelings. It seemed to her as though in the
+previous evening she had discovered in herself a gift, of the existence
+of which she had hitherto had no premonition, and she felt a slight
+emotion of regret stir within her at not having turned that gift to the
+best advantage earlier. She remembered one of Emil's questions as to her
+past, on account of which she had not been so shocked as she ought to
+have been, and now, as she recalled it to mind, the same smile appeared
+on her lips, as when she had sworn that she had told him the truth, which
+he had not wanted to believe. Then she thought of their next meeting; she
+pictured to herself how he would receive her and escort her through his
+rooms. The idea came to her that she would behave just as if nothing at
+all had yet happened between them. Not once would he be able to read in
+her glance the recollection of the previous evening; he would have to win
+her all over again, he would have to woo her--not with words alone, but
+also with his music.... Yes.... Wasn't she going to hear him play that
+very forenoon?... Of course--in the Church.... Then she remembered the
+sudden jealousy which had seized her the previous evening.... Yes, but
+why?... It seemed to her now to be so absurd--jealousy of a singer who
+perhaps was taking part in singing the Mass, or of some other unknown
+woman. She would, however, go to the Church in any case. Ah, how fine it
+would be to stand in the dim light of the Church, unseen by him and
+unable to see him, and to hear only his playing, which would float down
+to her from the choir. And she felt as though she rejoiced in the
+prospect of a new tenderness which should come to her from him without
+his apprehending it.
+
+Slowly she got up and dressed herself. A gentle thought of her home rose
+up within her, but it was altogether without strength. She even found it
+a trouble to think of it. Moreover, she felt no penitence on that
+account; rather, she was proud of what she had done. She felt herself
+wholly as Emil's creature; all that had had part in her life previous to
+his advent seemed to be extinguished. If he were to demand of her that
+she should live a year, live the coming summer with him, but that then
+she should die--she would obey him.
+
+Her dishevelled hair fell over her shoulders. Memories came to her which
+almost made her reel. ... Ah, Heaven; why had all this come so late, so
+late? But there was still a long time before her--there were still five,
+still ten years during which she might remain beautiful.... Oh, there was
+even longer so far as he was concerned, if they remained together, since,
+indeed, he would change together with her. And again the hope flitted
+through her mind: if he should make her his wife, if they should live
+together, travel together, sleep together, night after night--but now she
+began to feel slightly ashamed of herself--why was it that these thoughts
+were for ever present in her mind? Yet, to live together, did it not mean
+something further--to have cares in common, to be able to talk with one
+another on all subjects? Yes, she would, before all things, be his
+friend. And that was what she would tell him in the evening before
+everything else. That day he would have at last to tell her everything,
+tell her about himself; he would have to unfold his whole life before
+her, from the moment when they had parted twelve years ago until--and she
+could not help being amazed as she pursued her thoughts--until the
+previous morning.... She had seen him again for the first time the
+morning before, and in the space of that one day she had become so
+completely his that she could no longer think of anything except him; she
+was scarcely any longer a mother ... no, nothing but his beloved.
+
+She went out into the brightness of the summer day. It occurred to her
+that she was meeting more people than usual, that most of the shops were
+shut--of course, it was Sunday! She had not thought of that at all. And
+now that, too, made her glad. Soon she met a very slender gentleman who
+was wearing his overcoat open and by whose side was walking a young girl
+with very dark, laughing eyes. Bertha could not help thinking that she
+and Emil looked just such another couple ... and she pictured to herself
+how beautiful it must be to stroll about, not merely in the darkness of
+the night, but, just as these two were doing, openly in the broad light
+of day, arm in arm, and with happiness and laughter shining in their
+eyes. Many a time, when a gentleman going past her looked into her face,
+she felt as though she understood the language of glances, like
+something new to her. One man looked at her with a sort of grave
+expression, and he seemed to say: Well, you are also just like the
+others! Presently came two young people who left off talking to each
+other when they saw her. She felt as though they knew perfectly well what
+had happened the previous night. Then another man passed, who appeared to
+be in a great hurry, and he cast her a rapid sidelong glance which seemed
+to say: Why are you walking about here as imposingly, as if you were a
+good woman? Yesterday evening you were in the arms of one of us. Quite
+distinctly she heard within her that expression "one of us," and, for the
+first time in her life, she could not help pondering over the fact that
+all the men who passed by were indeed men, and that all the women were
+indeed women; that they desired one another, and, if they so wished,
+found one another. And she had the feeling as though only on the previous
+day at that time she had been a woman apart, from whom all other women
+had secrets, whilst now she also was included amongst them and could talk
+to them. She tried to remember the period which followed her wedding, and
+she recalled to mind that she had felt nothing beyond a slight
+disappointment and shame. Very vague there rose in her mind a certain
+sentence--she could not tell whether she had once read it or heard
+it--namely: "It is always the same, indeed, after all." And she seemed to
+herself much cleverer than the person, whoever it might have been, man
+or woman, who had spoken or written that sentence.
+
+Presently she noticed that she was following the same route as she had
+taken on the previous morning. Her eye fell on an advertising column on
+which was an announcement of the concert in which Emil was one of those
+taking part. Delightedly she stopped before it. A gentleman stood beside
+her. She smiled and thought: if he knew that my eyes are resting upon the
+very name of the man who, last night, was my lover.... Suddenly, she
+felt very proud. What she had done she considered as something unique.
+She could scarcely imagine that other women possessed the same courage.
+She walked on through the public gardens in which there were more people
+than on the previous day. Once again she saw children playing,
+governesses and nursemaids gossiping, reading, knitting. She noticed
+particularly a very old gentleman who had sat down on a seat in the sun;
+he looked at her, shook his head and followed her with a hard and
+inexorable glance. The incident created a most unpleasant impression upon
+her, and she had a feeling of injury in regard to the did gentleman.
+When, however, she mechanically glanced back, she observed that he was
+gazing at the sunlit sand and was still shaking his head. She realized
+then that this was due to his old age, and she asked herself whether
+Emil, too, would not one day be just such an aged gentleman, who would
+sit in the sun and shake his head. And all at once she saw herself
+walking along by his side in the chestnut avenue at home, but she was
+just as young as she was now, and he was being wheeled in an invalid's
+chair. She shivered slightly. If Herr Rupius were to know.... No--never,
+never would he believe that of her! If he had supposed her capable of
+such things he would not have called her to join him on the balcony and
+told her that his wife was intending to leave him....
+
+At that moment she was amazed at what seemed to her to be the great
+exuberance of her life. She had the impression that she was existing in
+the midst of such complex relations as no other woman did. And this
+feeling also contributed to her pride.
+
+As she walked past a group of children, of whom four were dressed exactly
+alike, she thought how strange it was that she had not for a moment
+considered the fact that her adventure of the previous day might possibly
+have consequences. But a connexion between that which had happened the
+day before between those wild embraces in a strange room--and a being
+which one day would call her "Mother" seemed to lie without the pale of
+all possibility.
+
+She left the garden and took the road to the Lerchenfelderstrasse. She
+wondered whether Emil was now thinking that she was on her way to him.
+Whether his first thought that morning had been of her. And it seemed
+to her now that previously her imagination had pictured quite
+differently the morning after a night such as she had spent.... Yes,
+she had fancied it as a mutual awakening, breast on breast, and lips
+pressed to lips.
+
+A detachment of soldiers came towards her. Officers paced along by the
+side of the pavement; one of them jostled her slightly, as he passed, and
+said politely:
+
+"I beg your pardon."
+
+He was a very handsome man, and he gave himself no further concern on her
+account, which vexed her a little. And the thought came to her
+involuntarily: had he also a beloved? And suddenly she knew for a
+certainty that he had been with the girl he loved the previous night;
+also that he loved her only, and concerned himself with other women as
+little as Emil did.
+
+She was now in front of the church. The notes of the organ came surging
+forth into the street. A carriage was standing there, and a footman was
+on the box. How came that carriage there? All at once, it was quite clear
+to Bertha that some definite connexion must have subsisted between it and
+Emil, and she resolved to leave the church before the conclusion of the
+Mass so as to see who might enter the carriage. She went into the crowded
+church. She passed forward between the rows of seats until she reached
+the High Altar, by which the priest was standing. The notes of the organ
+died away, the string orchestra began to take up the melody. Bertha
+turned her head in the direction of the choir. Somehow, it seemed strange
+to her that Emil should, incognito, so to speak, be playing the solo in a
+Haydn Mass here in the Lerchenfelder Church.... She looked at the female
+figures in the front seats. She noticed two--three--four young women and
+several old ladies. Two were sitting in the foremost row; one of them was
+very fashionably dressed in black silk, the other appeared to be her
+maid. Bertha thought that in any case the carriage must belong to that
+aristocratic old lady, and the idea greatly tranquillized her mind. She
+walked back again, half unconsciously keeping everywhere on the lookout
+for pretty women. There were still some who were passably good-looking;
+they all seemed to be absorbed in their devotions, and she felt ashamed
+that she alone was wandering about the church without any holy thoughts.
+
+Then she noticed that the violin solo had already begun. He was now
+playing--he! he!... And at that moment she was hearing him play for the
+first time for more than ten years. And it seemed to her that it was the
+same sweet tone as of old, just as one recognized the voices of people
+whom one has not met for years. The soprano joined in. If she could only
+see the singer! It was a clear, fresh voice, though not very highly
+trained, and Bertha felt something like a personal connexion between the
+notes of the violin and the song. It was natural that Emil should know
+the girl who was now singing.... But was there not something more in
+the fact of their performing together in the Mass than appeared on the
+surface? The singing ceased, the notes of the violin continued to
+resound, and now they spoke to her alone, as though they wished to
+reassure her. The orchestra joined in, the violin solo hovered over the
+other instruments, and seemed only to have that one desire to come to an
+understanding with her. "I know that you are there," it seemed to say,
+"and I am playing only for you...."
+
+The organ chimed in, but still the violin solo remained dominant over the
+rest. Bertha was so moved that tears rose to her eyes. At length the solo
+came to an end, as though engulfed in the swelling flood of sound from
+the other instruments, and it arose no more. Bertha scarcely listened,
+but she found a wonderful solace in the music sounding around her. Many a
+time she fancied that she could hear Emil's violin playing with the
+orchestra, and then it seemed quite strange, almost incredible, that she
+was standing there by a column, down in the body of the church and he was
+sitting at a desk up in the choir above, and the previous night they had
+been clasped in each other's arms, and all the hundreds of people there
+in the church knew nothing at all about it....
+
+She must see him at once--she must! She wanted to wait for him at the
+bottom of the staircase.... She did not want to speak a word to him--no,
+but she wished to see him and also the others who came out--including the
+singer of whom she had been jealous. But she had got completely over that
+now; she knew that Emil could not deceive her....
+
+The music had ceased; Bertha felt herself thrust forward towards the
+exit; she wanted to find the staircase, but it was at a considerable
+distance from her. Indeed, it was just as well that it was so ... no, she
+would not have dared to do it, to put herself forward, to wait for
+him--what would he have thought of her? He certainly would not have liked
+it! No, she would disappear with the crowd, and would tell him in the
+evening that she had heard him play. She was now positively afraid of
+being observed by him. She stood at the entrance, walked down the steps,
+and went past the carriage, just as the old lady and her maid were
+getting into it. Bertha could not help smiling when she called to mind in
+what a state of apprehension the sight of that carriage had thrown her,
+and it seemed to her that her suspicion in regard to the carriage having
+been removed, all the others must necessarily flicker out! She felt as
+though she had passed through an extraordinary adventure and was standing
+now on the brink of an absolutely new existence. For the first time it
+seemed to her to have a meaning; everything else had been but a fiction
+of the imagination and became as nothing in comparison with the
+happiness which was streaming through her pulses, while she slowly
+sauntered from the church through the streets of the suburbs towards her
+hotel. It was not until she had nearly reached her destination that she
+noticed that she had gone the whole way as though lost in a dream and
+could scarcely remember which way she had taken and whether she had met
+any people or not.
+
+As she was taking the key of her room the porter handed her a note and a
+bouquet of violets and lilac blossoms.... Oh, why had not she had a
+similar idea and sent Emil some flowers? But what could he have to write
+to her about? With a slight thrill of fear at her heart, she opened the
+letter and read:
+
+"DEAREST,
+
+"I must thank you once again for that delightful evening. To-day,
+unfortunately, it is impossible for me to see you. Don't be angry with
+me, my dear Bertha, and don't forget to let me know in good time on the
+next occasion when you come to Vienna."
+
+Ever your own,
+
+"EMIL."
+
+She went, she ran up the stairs, into her own room.... Why was he
+unable to see her that day? Why did he not at least tell her the reason?
+But then, after all, what did she know of his various obligations of an
+artistic and social nature?... It would certainly have been going too
+much into detail, and it would have appeared like an evasion if he had,
+at full length, given his reasons for putting her off. But in spite of
+that.... And then, why did he say: the next occasion when you came to
+Vienna?... Had she not told him that she would be remaining there a
+few days longer? He had forgotten that--he must have forgotten it! And
+immediately she sat down and wrote:
+
+"MY DEAREST EMIL,
+
+"I am very sorry indeed that you have had to put me off to-day, but
+luckily I am not leaving Vienna yet. Do please write to me at once,
+dearest, and tell me whether you can spare a little time for me to-morrow
+or the next day.
+
+"A thousand kisses from your
+
+"BERTHA."
+
+"P.S.--It is most uncertain when I shall be coming to Vienna again,
+and I should be very sorry in any case to go away without seeing you
+once more."
+
+She read the letter over. Then she added a further postscript:
+
+"I must see you again!"
+
+She hurried out into the street, handed the letter to a commissionaire,
+and impressed upon him strongly that he was on no account to come back
+without an answer. Then she went up to her room again and posted herself
+at the window. She wanted to keep herself from thinking, she wished only
+to look down into the street. She forced herself to fix her attention on
+the passers-by, and she recalled to mind a game, which she used to play
+as a child, and in which she and her brothers looked out of the window
+and amused themselves by commenting on how this or that passer-by
+resembled some one or other of their acquaintances. In the present
+circumstances, it was a matter of some difficulty for her to discover any
+such resemblances, for her room was situated on the third story; but, on
+the other hand, owing to the distance, it was easier for her to discover
+the arbitrary resemblances which she was looking for. First of all, came
+a woman who looked like her cousin Agatha; then some one who reminded her
+of her music teacher at the Conservatoire; he was arm in arm with a woman
+who looked like her sister-in-law's cook. Yonder was a young man who bore
+a resemblance to her brother, the actor. Directly behind him, and in the
+uniform of a captain, a person who was the image of her dead father came
+along the road; he stood still awhile before the hotel, glanced up,
+exactly as if he were seeking her, and then disappeared through the
+doorway. For a moment Bertha was as greatly alarmed as if it really had
+been her father, who had come as a ghost from the grave. Then she forced
+herself to laugh--loudly--and sought to continue the game, but she was
+not able to play it any longer with success.
+
+Her sole purpose now was to see whether the commissionaire was coming.
+At length she decided to have dinner, just to while away the time.
+After she had ordered it, she again went to the window. But now she no
+longer looked in the direction from which the commissionaire had to
+come, but her glances followed the crowded omnibuses and trams on their
+way to the suburbs. Then the captain, whom she had seen a short time
+before, struck her attention again, as he was just jumping on to a
+tram, a cigarette in his mouth. He no longer bore the slightest
+resemblance to her dead father.
+
+She heard a clatter behind her; the waiter had come into the room. Bertha
+ate but little, and drank her wine very quickly. She grew sleepy, and
+leaned back in the corner of the divan. Her thoughts gradually grew
+indistinct; there was a ringing in her ears like the echoes of the organ
+which she had heard in the church. She shut her eyes and, all at once, as
+though evoked by magic, she saw the room in which she had been with Emil
+the previous evening, and behind the red curtains she perceived the
+gleaming whiteness of the coverlet. It appeared that she herself was
+sitting again before the piano, but another man was holding her in a
+close embrace--it was her nephew Richard. With an effort she tore her
+eyes open, she seemed to herself depraved beyond all measure, and she
+felt panic-stricken as though some atonement would have to be exacted
+from her, for these visionary fancies.
+
+Once more she went to the window. She felt as if an eternity had passed
+since she had sent the commissionaire on his errand. She read through
+Emil's letter once again. Her glance lingered on the last words: "Ever
+your own"; and she repeated them to herself aloud and in a tender tone,
+and called to mind similar words which he had spoken the previous
+evening. She concocted a letter which was surely on the point of arriving
+and would certainly be couched in these terms: "My dearest Bertha! Heaven
+be thanked that you are going to remain in Vienna until to-morrow! I
+shall expect you for certain at my house at three o'clock," or:
+"to-morrow we will spend the whole day together," or even; "I have put
+off the appointment I had, so we can still see each other to-day. Come to
+me at once; longingly I am waiting for you!"
+
+Well, whatever his answer might be, she would see him again before
+leaving Vienna, although not that day perhaps. Indeed, anything else was
+quite unthinkable. Why, then, was she a prey to this dreadful agitation,
+as though all were over between them? But why was his answer so long in
+coming?... He had, in any case, gone out to dinner--of course, he
+had no one to keep house for him! So the earliest that he could be home
+again was three o'clock.... But if he were not to return home till the
+evening?... She had, indeed, told the commissionaire to wait in any
+case--even till the night, if necessary.... But what was she to do? Of
+course, she could not stand there looking out of the window all the time!
+The hours, indeed, seemed endless! She was ready to weep with impatience,
+with despair!
+
+She paced up and down the room; then she again stood at the window for a
+while, then she sat down and took up for a short time the novel which she
+had brought with her in her travelling bag; she attempted, too, to go to
+sleep--but did not succeed in doing so. At length four o'clock
+struck--nearly three hours had passed since she had begun her vigil.
+
+There was a knock at the door. The commissionaire came into the room and
+handed her a letter. She tore open the envelope and with an involuntary
+movement, so as to conceal the expression on her features from the
+stranger, she turned towards the window.
+
+She read the letter.
+
+"MY DEAREST BERTHA,
+
+"It is very good of you still to give me a choice between the next few
+days but, as indeed I have already hinted to you in my former letter,
+it is, unfortunately, absolutely impossible for me to do just as I like
+during that time. Believe me, I regret that it is so, at least as much
+as you do.
+
+"Once more a thousand thanks and a thousand greetings and I trust that we
+will be able to arrange a delightful time when next we meet.
+
+"Don't forget me completely,
+
+"Your
+
+"EMIL."
+
+When she had finished reading the letter she was quite calm; she paid the
+commissionaire the fee he demanded and found that, for a person in her
+circumstances, it was by no means insignificant. Then she sat down at the
+table and tried to collect her thoughts. She realized immediately that
+she could no longer remain in Vienna, and her only regret was that there
+was no train which could take her home at once. On the table stood the
+half empty bottle of wine, bread crumbs were scattered beside the plate,
+on the bed lay her spring jacket, beside it were the flowers which he had
+sent her that very morning.
+
+What could it all mean? Was it at an end?
+
+Indistinctly, but so that it seemed that it must bear some relation to
+her recent experiences, there occurred to her a sentence which she had
+once read. It was about men who desire nothing more than "to attain their
+object..." But she had always considered that to be a phrase of the
+novelists. But, after all, it was surely not a letter of farewell that
+she was holding in her hand, was it?... Was it really not a letter of
+farewell? Might not these kind words be also lies?... Also lies--that
+was it!... For the first time the positive word forced itself into her
+thoughts.... Lies!... Then it was certain that, when he brought her home
+the previous night, he had already made up his mind not to see her again.
+And the appointment for the present day and his desire to see her again
+that day were lies....
+
+She went over the events of the previous evening in her mind, and she
+asked herself what could she have said or done to put him out of humour
+or disappoint him.... Really, it had all been so beautiful, and Emil had
+seemed so happy, just as happy as she had been ... was all that going to
+prove to have been a lie too?... How could she tell?... Perhaps, after
+all, she had put him out of humour without being aware that she was doing
+so.... She had, indeed, been nothing more or less than a good woman all
+her life.... Who could say whether she had not been guilty of something
+clumsy or stupid?... whether she had not been ludicrous and repellent in
+some moment when she had believed herself to be sacrificing, tender,
+enchanted and enchanting?... But what did she know of all these
+things?... And, all at once, she felt something almost in the nature of
+repentance that she had set out upon her adventure so utterly
+unprepared, that, until the previous day, she had been so chaste and
+good, that she had not had other lovers before Emil.... Then she
+remembered, too, that he had evaded her shy questions and requests on the
+subject of his violin playing, as if he had not wanted to admit her into
+that sphere of his life. He had thus remained strange to her,
+intentionally strange, so far as concerned the very things which were of
+the deepest and most vital importance to him. All at once she realized
+that she had no more in common with him than the pleasures of a night,
+and that the present morning had found them both as far apart from one
+another as they had been during all the years in which they had each led
+a separate existence.
+
+And then jealousy again flared up within her.... But she felt as though
+she was always thus, as though every conceivable emotion had always been
+present within her ... love and distrust, and hope and penitence, and
+yearning and jealousy ... and, for the first time in her life, she was so
+stirred, even to the very depths of her soul, that she understood those
+who in their despair have hurled themselves out of a window to meet their
+death.... And she perceived that the present state of affairs was
+impossible, that only certainty could be of any avail to her.... She must
+go to him and ask him ... but she must ask in the manner of one who is
+holding a knife to another's breast....
+
+She hurried away through the streets, which were almost deserted, as
+though all Vienna had gone off into the country.... But would she find
+him at home?... Would he not, perhaps, have had a presentiment that
+the idea might come to her to seek him, to take him to task, and would he
+not have taken steps to evade the chance of such an occurrence?... She
+was ashamed of having had to think of that, too.... And if he was at
+home would she find him alone?... And if he was not alone, would she
+be admitted into his house?
+
+And if she found him in the arms of some other woman, what should she
+say?... Had he promised her anything? Had he sworn to be true to
+her? Had she even so much as demanded loyalty of him? How could she
+have imagined that he was waiting for her here in Vienna until she
+congratulated him on his Spanish Order?... Yes, could he not say to
+her: "You have thrown yourself on my neck and have desired nothing more
+than that I should take you as you are...." And if she asked
+herself--was he not right?... Had she not come to Vienna to be his
+beloved?--and for no other reason ... without any regard to the past,
+without any guarantee as to the future?... Yes, that was all she had
+come for! All other hopes and wishes had only transiently hovered
+around her passion, and she did not deserve anything better than that
+which had happened to her.... And if she was candid to herself, she
+must also admit that of all that she had experienced this had still
+been the best....
+
+She stopped at a street corner. All was quiet around her; the summer air
+about her was heavy and sultry. She retraced her steps back to her hotel.
+She was very tired, and a new thought rose up convulsively within her:
+was it not possible that he had written to put her off only because he
+also was tired?... She seemed to herself very experienced when that
+idea occurred to her.... And yet another thought flashed through her
+mind: that he could also love no other woman in the way in which he had
+loved her.... And suddenly she asked whether, after all, the previous
+night would remain her only experience--whether she herself would belong
+to no other man save him? And she rejoiced in the doubt, as if, by
+cherishing it, she was taking a kind of revenge on his compassionate
+glance and mocking lips.
+
+And now she was back again in the cheerless room away up in the third
+storey of the hotel. The remains of her dinner had not yet been cleared
+away. Her jacket and the flowers were still lying on the bed. She took
+the flowers in her hand and raised them to her lips, as though about to
+kiss them. Suddenly, however, as though her whole anger burst forth
+again, she flung them violently to the ground. Then she threw herself on
+the bed, her face buried in her hands.
+
+After lying for some time in this position she felt her calmness
+gradually returning. It was perhaps just as well that she could return
+home that very day. She thought of her boy, how he was accustomed to lie
+in his little cot with his whole face beaming with laughter, if his
+mother leaned over the railings. She yearned for him. Also she yearned in
+some slight degree for Elly and for Frau Rupius. Yes, it was true--Frau
+Rupius, of course, was going to leave her husband.... What could there
+be at the bottom of it all?... A love affair?... But, strangely
+enough, she was now still less able than before to picture to herself the
+answer to that question.
+
+It was growing late, it was time for her to get ready for her
+departure.... So, then, she would be home again by Sunday evening.
+
+She sat in the carriage; on her lap lay the flowers, which she had picked
+up from the floor.... Yes, she was now travelling home, leaving the
+town where she ... had experienced something--that was the right
+expression, wasn't it?... Words which she had read or heard in
+connexion with similar circumstances kept recurring continually to her
+mind ... such words as: "bliss" ... "transports of love" ... "ecstasy"
+... and a gentle thrill of pride stirred within her at having
+experienced what those words denoted. And yet another thought came to her
+which caused her to grow singularly calm: if he also--maybe--had an
+affair with another woman at that very time ... she had taken him from
+_her_ ... not for long indeed, but yet as completely as it was possible
+to take a man from a woman. She grew calmer and calmer, almost cheerful.
+
+It was, indeed, clear to her that she, Bertha, the inexperienced woman,
+could not, with one assault, completely obtain possession of her
+beloved.... But might she not be successful on a second occasion, she
+wondered? She was very glad that she had not carried out her
+determination to hasten to him at once. Indeed, she even formed the
+intention of writing him such a cold letter that he would fall into a
+mild fit of anger; she would be coquettish, subtle.... But she must
+have him again ... of that she was certain ... soon, and, if possible,
+forever!... And so her dreams went on and on as the train carried her
+homewards.... Ever bolder they grew as the humming of the wheels grew
+deeper and deeper, lulling her into a semi-slumberous state.
+
+On her arrival she found the little town buried in a deep sleep--she
+reached home and told the maidservant to fetch Fritz from her
+sister-in-law's the first thing in the morning. Then she slowly undressed
+herself. Her glance fell on the portrait of her dead husband, which hung
+over the bed. She asked herself whether it should remain in that
+position. Then the thought occurred to her that there are some women who
+come from their lovers and then are able to sleep by the side of their
+husbands, and she shuddered.... She could never have done such a thing
+while her husband had been alive!... And, if she _had_ done it, she would
+never have returned home again....
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+
+The next morning Bertha was wakened by Fritz. He had jumped on to her bed
+and had breathed softly on her eyelids. Bertha sat up, embraced and
+kissed him, and he immediately began to tell her how well he had fared
+with his uncle and aunt, how Elly had played with him, and how Richard
+had once had a fight with him without being able to beat him. On the
+previous day, too, he had learned to play the piano, and would soon be as
+clever at it as mamma.
+
+Bertha was content just to listen to him.
+
+"If only Emil could hear his sweet prattle now!" she thought.
+
+She considered whether, on the next occasion, she should not take Fritz
+with her to Vienna to see Emil, by doing which she would at once remove
+anything of a suspicious nature in such a visit.
+
+She thought only of the pleasant side of her experiences in Vienna, and
+of the letters which Emil had written to put her off scarcely anything
+remained in her memory, other than those words which had reference to a
+future meeting.
+
+She got up in an almost cheerful frame of mind and, whilst she was
+dressing herself, she felt a quite new tenderness for her own body, which
+still seemed to her to be fragrant with the kisses of her beloved.
+
+While the morning was yet young, she went to call on her relations. As
+she walked by the house of Herr Rupius she deliberated for a moment
+whether she should not go up and see him there and then. But she had a
+vague fear of being immediately involved again in the agitated atmosphere
+of the household, and she deferred the visit until the afternoon.
+
+At her brother-in-law's house Elly was the first to meet her, and she
+welcomed her as boisterously as if Bertha had returned from a long
+journey. Her brother-in-law, who was on the point of going out, jestingly
+shook a threatening finger at Bertha and said:
+
+"Well, have you had a good time?"
+
+Bertha felt herself blushing crimson.
+
+"Yes," he continued; "these are pretty stories that we hear about you!"
+
+He did not, however, notice her embarrassment and, as he went out of the
+door, greeted her with a glance which plainly meant: "You can't keep your
+secrets from me."
+
+"Father is always making jokes like that," said Elly. "I don't like him
+doing that at all!"
+
+Bertha knew that her brother-in-law had only been talking at random, as
+his usual manner was, and that, if she had told him the truth, he would
+not have believed her for a moment.
+
+Her sister-in-law came into the room, and Bertha had to relate all about
+her stay in Vienna.
+
+To her own surprise she succeeded very well in cleverly blending truth
+with fiction. She told how she had been with her cousin to the public
+gardens and the picture gallery; on Sunday she had heard Mass at St.
+Stephen's Church; she had met in the street a teacher from the
+Conservatoire; and finally she even invented a funny married couple, whom
+she represented as having had supper one evening at her cousin's. The
+further she proceeded with her lies, the greater was her desire to tell
+all about Emil as well, and to inform them how she had met in the street
+the celebrated violinist Lindbach, who had formerly been with her at the
+Conservatoire, and how she had had a conversation with him. But a vague
+fear of not being able to stop at the right time caused her to refrain
+from making any reference to him.
+
+Frau Albertine Garlan sat on the sofa in an attitude of profound
+lassitude, and nodded her head. Elly stood, as usual, by the piano, her
+head resting on her hands, and she gazed open-eyed at her aunt.
+
+From her sister-in-law's Bertha went on to the Mahlmanns' and gave the
+twins their music lesson. The finger exercises and scales which she had
+to hear were at first intolerable to her, but finally she ceased to
+listen to them at all, and let her thoughts wander at will. The cheerful
+mood of the morning had vanished, Vienna seemed to her to be infinitely
+distant, a strange feeling of disquietude came over her and suddenly the
+fear seized her that Emil might go away immediately after his concert.
+That would indeed be terrible! He might go away all of a sudden without
+her having seen him once more--and who could say when he would return?
+
+She wondered whether it would not be well to arrange to be in Vienna in
+any case on the day of the concert. She had to admit to herself that she
+had not: the slightest longing to hear him play. Indeed, it seemed to her
+that she would not in the least mind if he was not a violin virtuoso at
+all, if he was not even an artist, but just an ordinary kind of man--a
+bookseller, or something like that! If she could only have him for
+herself, for herself alone!...
+
+Meanwhile the twins played through their scales. It was surely a terrible
+doom to have to sit there and give these untalented brats music lessons.
+How was it that she had been in good spirits only just a little earlier
+that day?...
+
+Ah, those beautiful days in Vienna! Quite irrespective of Emil--the
+entire freedom, the sauntering about the streets, the walks in the public
+gardens.... To be sure, she had spent more money during her stay than
+she could afford; two dozen lessons to the Mahlmann twins would not
+recoup her the outlay.... And now, here she had to come back again to
+her relations, to give music lessons, and really it might even be
+necessary to look about for fresh pupils, for her accounts would not
+balance at all that year!... Ah, what a life!...
+
+In the street Bertha met Frau Martin, who asked her how she had enjoyed
+herself in Vienna. At the same time she threw Bertha a glance which
+clearly said:
+
+"I'm quite sure you don't enjoy life so much as I do with my husband!"
+
+Bertha had an overwhelming desire to shriek in that person's face:
+
+"I have had a much better time than you think! I have been with an
+enchanting young man who is a thousand times more charming than your
+husband! And I understand how to enjoy life quite as well as you do! You
+have only a husband, but I have a lover!--a lover!--a lover!"...
+
+Yet, of course, she said nothing of the kind, but related how she had
+gone with her cousin and the children for a walk in the public gardens.
+
+Bertha also met with some other ladies with whom she was superficially
+acquainted. She felt that her mental attitude towards those ladies had
+undergone a complete change since her visit to Vienna--that she was
+freer, superior. It seemed to her that she was the only woman in the
+town with any experience, and she was almost sorry that nobody knew
+anything about it, for although, publicly, they would have despised her,
+in their hearts all those women would have been filled with unutterable
+envy of her.
+
+And if, after all, they _had_ known who.... Although in that hole of a
+town there were certainly many who had not so much as heard Emil's name!
+If only there was some one in the world to whom she could open her heart!
+Frau Rupius--yes, there was Frau Rupius!... But, of course, she was in
+the habit of going away, of taking trips!... And, to tell the truth,
+thought Bertha, that was also a matter of indifference to her. She would
+only like to know how things would eventually turn out so far as she and
+Emil were concerned, she would like to know how matters actually stood.
+It was the uncertainty that was causing her that terrible uneasiness....
+Had she only had a love affair with him, after all?... Ah, but why had
+she not gone to him once again?... But, of course, that was quite
+impossible!... That letter.... He didn't want to see her, that was it!...
+But then, on the other hand, he had sent her flowers....
+
+And now she was back again with her relations. Richard was going to meet
+her and embrace her in his playful manner. She pushed him away.
+
+"Impudent boy!" she thought to herself. "I know very well what he means
+by doing that, although he himself does not know. I understand these
+things--I have a lover in Vienna!..."
+
+The music lesson took its course and, at the end of it, Elly and Richard
+played as a duet Beethoven's [Footnote: Query--Brahms (translator's
+note).] "Festival Overture" which was intended by them to be a birthday
+surprise for their father.
+
+Bertha thought only of Emil. She was nearly being driven out of her mind
+by this wretched strumming ... no, it was not possible to live on like
+that, whichever way she looked at it!... She was still a young woman,
+too.... Yes, that was the secret of it all, the real secret.... She would
+not be able to live on like that any more.... And yet it would not do for
+her ... any other man.... How could she ever think of such a thing!...
+What a very wicked person she must be, after all! Who could tell whether
+it had not been that trait in her character which Emil, with his great
+experience of life, had perceived in her, and which had been the cause of
+his being unwilling to see her any more?... Ah, those women surely had
+the best of it who took everything easily, and, when abandoned by one
+man, immediately turned to another.... But stay, whatever could it be
+that was putting such thoughts as these into her head? Had Emil, then,
+abandoned her?... In three or four days she would be in Vienna again;
+with him; in his arms!... And had she been able to live for three years
+as she had done?... Three?--Six years--her whole life!... If he only knew
+that, if he only believed that!
+
+Her sister-in-law came into the room and invited Bertha to have supper
+with them that evening.... Yes, that was her only distraction: to go out
+to dinner or supper occasionally at some other house than her own!
+
+If only there was a man in the town to whom she could talk!... And Frau
+Rupius was going off on her travels and leaving her husband.... Hadn't a
+love affair, maybe, something to do with that, Bertha wondered.
+
+The music lesson came to an end and Bertha took her leave. In the
+presence of her sister-in-law, too, she noticed that she had that feeling
+of superiority, almost of compassion, which had come over her when she
+had seen the other ladies. Yes, she was certain that she would not give
+up that one hour with Emil for a whole life such as her sister-in-law
+led. Moreover, as she thought to herself as she was walking homewards,
+she had not been able to arrive at a complete perception of her
+happiness, which, indeed, had all slipped by so quickly. And then that
+room, that whole house, that frightful picture.... No, no, it was all
+really hideous rather than anything else. After all, the only really
+beautiful moments had been those which had followed, when Emil had
+accompanied her to her hotel in the carriage, and her head had rested on
+his breast....
+
+Ah, he loved her indeed; of course, not so deeply as she loved him; but
+how could that be possible? What a number of experiences he had had in
+his life! She thought of that now without any feeling of jealousy;
+rather, she felt a slight pity for him in having to carry so much in his
+memory. It was quite evident from his appearance that he was not a man
+who took life easily.... He was not of a cheerful disposition.... All the
+hours which she had spent with him seemed in her recollection as if
+encompassed by an incomprehensible melancholy. If she only knew all about
+him! He had told her so little about himself ... nothing, indeed,
+absolutely nothing!... But how would that have been possible on the very
+first day that they had met again? Ah! if only he really knew her! If she
+were only not so shy, so incapable of expressing herself!
+
+She would have to write to him again before seeing him.... Yes, she would
+write to him that very day. What a stupid concoction it was, that letter
+which she had sent him on the previous day! In truth, he could not have
+sent her any other answer than that which she had received. She would not
+write to him either defiantly or humbly.... No, after all, she was his
+beloved! She who, as she walked along the streets here in the little
+town, was regarded by every one who met her as one of themselves ... she
+was the beloved of that magnificent man whom she had worshipped since her
+girlhood. How unreservedly and unaffectedly she had given herself to
+him--not one of all the women she knew would have done that!... Ah, and
+she would do still more! Oh, yes! She would even live with him without
+being married to him, and she would be supremely indifferent to what
+people might say ... she would even be proud of her action! And later on
+he would marry her, after all ... of course he would. She was such a
+capable housekeeper, too.... And how much good it would be sure to do
+him, after the unsettled existence which he had been leading during the
+years of his wanderings, to live in a well-ordered house, with a good
+wife by his side, who had never loved any man but him.
+
+And now she was home again. Before dinner was served she had made all her
+preparations for writing the letter. She ate her dinner with feverish
+impatience; she scarcely allowed herself time to cut up Fritz's dinner
+and give it to him. Then, instead of undressing him herself and putting
+him to bed for his afternoon sleep, as she was always accustomed to do,
+she told the maid to attend to him.
+
+She sat down at the desk and the words flowed without effort from her
+pen, as though she had long ago composed in her head the whole letter.
+
+"My EMIL, MY BELOVED, MY ALL!
+
+"Since I have returned home again I have been possessed by an
+overwhelming desire to write to you, and I should like to say to you over
+and over again how happy, how infinitely happy, you have made me. I was
+angry with you at first when you wrote and said you could not see me on
+Sunday. I must confess that to you as well, for I feel that I am under
+the necessity of telling you everything that passes in my mind.
+Unfortunately, I could not do so while we were together; I had not the
+power of expressing myself, but now I can find the words and you must, I
+fear, put up with my boring you with this scribble. My dearest, my only
+one--yes, that you are, although it seems to me that you were not quite
+so certain of it as you ought to have been. I beseech you to believe that
+it is true. You see, I have no means, of course, wherewith to tell you
+this, other than these words, Emil, I have never, never loved any man,
+but you--and I will never love any other. Do with me as you will. I have
+no ties in the little town where I am living now--on the contrary,
+indeed, I often find it a terrible thing to be obliged to live my life
+here. I will move to Vienna, so as to be near you. Oh, do not fear that I
+will disturb you! I am not alone, you see, I have my boy, whom I
+_idolize_. I will cut down my expenses, and, in the long run, why
+shouldn't I succeed in finding pupils even in a large town like Vienna
+just as I do here, perhaps, indeed, even more easily than here, and in
+that way improve my position? Yet that is a secondary consideration, for
+I may tell you that it has long been my intention to move to Vienna if
+only for the sake of my dearly loved boy, when he grows older.
+
+"You cannot imagine how stupid the men are here! And I can no longer bear
+to look at any one of them at all, since I have again had the happiness
+of being in your company.
+
+"Write to me, my dearest! Yet you need not trouble to send me a whole
+long letter. In any case I shall be coming to Vienna again this week. I
+would have had to do so in any event, because of some pressing
+commissions, and you will then be able to tell me everything--just what
+you think of my proposal, and what you consider best for me to do. But
+you must promise me this, that, when I live in Vienna, you will often
+visit me. Of course, no one need know anything about it, if you do not
+care that they should. But you may believe me--every day on which I may
+be allowed to see you will be a red-letter day for me and that, in all
+the world, there is nobody who loves you in such a true and life-long
+manner as I do.
+
+"Farewell, my beloved!
+
+"Your
+
+"BERTHA."
+
+She did not venture to read over what she had written, but left the house
+at once so as to take the letter herself to the railway station. There
+she saw Frau Rupius, a few paces in front of her, accompanied by a maid
+who was carrying a small valise.
+
+What could that mean?
+
+She caught up Frau Rupius, just as the latter was going into the waiting
+room. The maid laid the valise on the large table in the centre of the
+room, kissed her mistress's hand, and departed.
+
+"Frau Rupius!" exclaimed Bertha, a note of inquiry in her voice.
+
+"I heard that you had returned already. Well, how did you get on?" said
+Frau Rupius, extending her hand in a friendly way.
+
+"Very well--very well indeed, but--"
+
+"Why, you are gazing at me as though you were quite frightened! No, Frau
+Bertha, I am coming back again--no later than to-morrow. The long
+journey that I had in view came to nothing, so I have had to--settle on
+something else."
+
+"Something else?"
+
+"Why, of course, staying at home. I shall be back again to-morrow. Well,
+how did you get on?"
+
+"I told you just now--very well."
+
+"Yes, of course, you did tell me before. But I see you are going to post
+that letter, are you not?"
+
+And then for the first time Bertha noticed that she was still holding the
+letter to Emil in her hand. She gazed at it with such enraptured eyes
+that Frau Rupius smiled.
+
+"Perhaps you would like me to take it with me? It is to go to Vienna,
+I presume?"
+
+"Yes," answered Bertha, and then she added resolutely, as though she was
+glad to be able to say it out at last: "to him."
+
+Frau Ropius nodded her head, as if satisfied. But she neither looked at
+Bertha nor made any reply.
+
+"I am so glad that I have met you again!" said Bertha. "You are the only
+woman here, you know, whom I trust; indeed, you are the only woman who
+could understand anything like this."
+
+"Ah, no," said Frau Rupius to herself, as though she were dreaming.
+
+"I do envy you so, because to-day in a few short hours you will see
+Vienna again. How fortunate you are!"
+
+Frau Rupius had sat down in one of the leather armchairs by the table.
+She rested her chin on her hand, looked at Bertha, and said:
+
+"It seems to me, on the other hand, that it is you who are fortunate."
+
+"No, I must, you see, remain here."
+
+"Why?" asked Frau Rupius. "You are free, you know. But go and put that
+letter into the box at once, or I shall see the address, and so learn
+more than you wish to tell me."
+
+"I will, though not because of that--but I should be glad if the letter
+went by this train and not later."
+
+Bertha hurried into the vestibule, posted the letter and at once returned
+to Anna, who was still sitting in the same quiet attitude.
+
+"I might have told you everything, you know," Bertha went on to say;
+"indeed I might say that I wished to tell you before I actually went
+to Vienna ... but--just fancy, isn't it strange? I did not venture
+to do so."
+
+"Moreover at that time, too, there probably had not been anything to
+tell," said Frau Rupius, without looking at Bertha.
+
+Bertha was amazed. How clever that woman was! She could see into
+everybody's thoughts!
+
+"No, at that time there had not been anything to tell," she repeated,
+gazing at Frau Rupius with a kind of reverence. "Just think--you will
+probably find it hard to believe what I am going to tell you now, but I
+should feel a liar if I kept it secret."
+
+"Well?"
+
+Bertha had sat down on a seat beside Frau Rupius, and she spoke in a
+lower tone, for the vestibule door was standing open.
+
+"I wanted to tell you this, Anna: that I do not in the least feel that I
+have done anything wicked, not even anything immoral."
+
+"It wouldn't be a very clever thing, either, if you had."
+
+"Yes, you are quite right.... What I really meant to say was rather that
+it seems to me as though I had done something quite good, as if I had
+done something outstanding. Yes, Frau Rupius, the fact of the matter is,
+I have been proud of myself ever since."
+
+"Well, there is probably no reason for that either," said Frau Rupius, as
+if lost in thought, stroking Bertha's hand, which lay upon the table.
+
+"I am aware of that, of course, and yet I am so proud and seem quite
+different from all the women whom I know. You see if you knew ... if you
+were acquainted with him--it is such a strange affair! You mustn't think,
+let me tell you, that it is an acquaintanceship which I have made
+recently--quite the contrary; I have been in love with him, you must
+know, ever since I was quite a young girl, no less than twelve years ago.
+For a long time we had completely lost sight of one another, and
+now--isn't it wonderful?--now he is my ... my ... my ... lover!"
+
+She had said it at last. Her whole face was radiant.
+
+Frau Rupius threw her a glance in which could be detected a little scorn
+and a great deal of kindliness.
+
+"I am glad that you are happy," she said.
+
+"How very kind you are indeed! But then, you see, on the other hand
+again, it is a dreadful thing that we are so far apart from one another;
+he, in Vienna; I, here--I don't think I shall ever be able to endure
+that. Moreover, I have ceased to feel that I belong to this place, least
+of all to my relations. If they knew ... no, if they knew! However, they
+would never be able to bring themselves to believe it. A woman like my
+sister-in-law, for instance--well, I am perfectly certain that she could
+never imagine such a thing to be in any way possible."
+
+"But you are really very ingenuous!" said Frau Rupius suddenly, almost
+with exasperation. Then she listened for a moment. "I thought I could
+hear the train whistling already."
+
+She rose to her feet, walked over to the large glass door leading on to
+the platform, and looked out. A porter came and asked for the tickets in
+order to punch them.
+
+"The train for Vienna is twenty minutes late," he remarked, at the
+same time.
+
+Bertha had stood up and gone over to Frau Rupius.
+
+"Why do you consider that I am ingenuous?" she asked shyly.
+
+"But, indeed, you know absolutely nothing about men," replied Frau
+Rupius, as if she were annoyed. "You haven't, you know, the slightest
+idea among what kind of people you are living. I can assure you, you have
+no reason at all to be proud."
+
+"I know, of course, that it is very stupid of me."
+
+"Your sister-in-law--that is delightful!--your sister-in-law!"
+
+"What do you mean, then?"
+
+"I mean that she has had a lover too!"
+
+"Whatever put such an idea as that into your head!"
+
+"Well, she is not the only woman in this town."
+
+"Yes, there are certainly women who ... but, Albertine--"
+
+"And do you know who it was? That is very amusing! It was Herr
+Klingemann!"
+
+"No, that is impossible!"
+
+"Of course, it is now a long time ago, about ten or eleven years."
+
+"But at that time, by the way, you yourself had not come to live here,
+Frau Rupius!"
+
+"Oh, I have heard it from the best source. It was Herr Klingemann himself
+who told me about it."
+
+"Herr Klingemann himself! But is it possible for a man to be so base as
+all that!"
+
+"I don't think there's the least doubt about that," answered Frau Rupius,
+sitting down on a seat near the door, whilst Bertha remained standing
+beside her, listening in amazement to her friend's words. "Yes, Herr
+Klingemann himself.... As soon as I came to the town, you must know, he
+did me the honour of making violent love to me, neck or nothing, so to
+speak. You know yourself, of course, what a loathsome wretch he is. I
+laughed him to scorn, which probably exasperated him a great deal, and
+evidently he thought that he would be able conclusively to prove to me
+how irresistible he was by recounting all his conquests."
+
+"But perhaps he told you some things which were not true."
+
+"A great deal, probably; but this story, as it happens, is true.... Ah,
+what a rabble these men are!"
+
+There was a note of the deepest hatred in Frau Rupius' voice. Bertha was
+quite frightened. She had never thought it possible that Frau Rupius
+could have said such things.
+
+"Yes, why shouldn't you know what kind of men they are amongst whom you
+are living?" continued Frau Rupius.
+
+"No, I would never have thought it possible! If my brother-in-law knew
+about it!--"
+
+"If he knew about it? He knows about it as well as you or I do!"
+
+"What do you say! No, no!"
+
+"Indeed, he caught them together--you understand me! Herr Klingemann and
+Albertine! So that, however much inclined he might have been to make the
+best of things, there was no doubt possible!"
+
+"But, for Heaven's sake--what did he do, then?"
+
+"Well, as you can see for yourself, he has not turned her out!"
+
+"Well, yes, the children ... of course!"
+
+"The children--pooh-pooh! He forgave her for the sake of convenience--and
+chiefly because he could do as he liked after that. You can see for
+yourself how he treats her. When all is said and done, she is but little
+better than his servant; you know as well as I do in what a miserable,
+brow-beaten way she slinks about. He has brought it to this, that, ever
+since that moment, she has always had to look upon herself as a woman who
+has been treated with mercy. And I believe she has even a perpetual fear
+that he is reserving the punishment for some future day. But it is stupid
+of her to be afraid of that, for he wouldn't look out for another
+housekeeper for anything.... Ah, my dear Frau Bertha, we are not by any
+means angels, as you know now from your own experiences, but men are
+infamous so long"--she seemed to hesitate to complete the phrase--"so
+long as they are men."
+
+Bertha was as though crushed; not so much on account of the things which
+Frau Rupius had told her as on account of the manner in which she had
+done so. She seemed to have become a quite different woman, and Bertha
+was pained at heart.
+
+The door leading to the platform was opened and the low, incessant
+tinkling of the telegraph was heard. Frau Rupius stood up slowly, her
+features assumed a mild expression, and, stretching out her hand to
+Bertha, she said:
+
+"Forgive me, I was only a little bit vexed. Things can be also very nice;
+of course, there are certainly decent men in the world as well as others.
+Oh, yes, things can be very nice, no doubt."
+
+She looked out on to the railway lines and seemed to be following the
+iron track into the distance. Then she went on to say with that same
+soft, harmonious voice which appealed so strongly to Bertha:
+
+"I shalt be home again to-morrow evening.... Oh, yes, of course, my
+travelling case!"
+
+She hurried to the table and took her valise.
+
+"It would have been a terrible catastrophe if I had forgotten that! I
+cannot travel without my ten bottles! Well, good-bye! And don't forget,
+though, that all I have been telling you happened ten years ago."
+
+The train came into the station. Frau Rupius hurried to a compartment,
+got in, and, looking out of the window, nodded affably to Bertha. The
+latter endeavoured to respond as cheerfully, but she felt that her wave
+of the hand to the departing Frau Rupius was stiff and forced.
+
+Slowly she walked homewards again. In vain she sought to persuade herself
+that all that she had heard was not the least concern of hers; the long
+past affair of her sister-in-law, the mean conduct of her brother-in-law,
+the baseness of Klingemann, the strange whims of that incomprehensible
+Frau Rupius; all had nothing to do with her. She could not explain it to
+herself, but somehow, it seemed to her as though all these things were
+mysteriously related to her own adventure.
+
+Suddenly the gnawing doubts appeared again.... Why hadn't Emil wanted
+to see her again? Not on the following day, or on the second or on
+the third day? How was it? He had attained his object, that was
+sufficient for him.... However had she been able to write him that
+mad, shameless letter?
+
+And a thrill of fear arose within her.... If he were to show her letter
+to another woman, maybe ... make merry over it with her.... No, how on
+earth could such an idea come into her head? It was ridiculous even to
+think of such a thing!... It was possible, of course, that he would not
+answer the letter and would throw it into the wastepaper basket--but
+nothing worse than that.... No.... However, she must just have patience,
+and in two or three days all would be decided. She could not say
+anything with certainty, but she felt that this unendurable confusion
+within her mind could not last much longer. The question would have to
+be settled, somehow.
+
+Late in the afternoon she again went for a walk amongst the
+vine-trellises with Fritz, but she did not go into the cemetery. Then she
+walked slowly down the hill and sauntered along under the chestnut trees.
+She chatted with Fritz, asked him about all sorts of things, listened to
+his stories and, as her frequent custom was, instilled some knowledge
+into his head on several subjects. She tried to explain to him how far
+the sun is distant from the earth, how the rain comes from the clouds,
+and how the bunches of grapes grow, from which wine is made. She was not
+annoyed, as often happened, if the boy did not pay proper attention to
+her, because she realized well enough that she was only talking for the
+sake of distracting her own thoughts.
+
+Then she walked down the hill, under the chestnut trees, and so back to
+the town. Presently she saw Herr Klingemann approaching, but the fact
+made not the slightest impression upon her. He spoke to her with forced
+politeness; all the time he held his straw hat in his hand and affected a
+great and almost gloomy gravity. He seemed very changed, and she
+observed, too, that his clothes in reality were not at all elegant, but
+positively shabby. Suddenly she could not help picturing him tenderly
+embracing her sister-in-law, and she felt extremely disgusted.
+
+Later on she sat down on a bench and watched Fritz playing with some
+other children, all the time making an effort to keep her attention fixed
+on him so that she would not have to think of anything else.
+
+In the evening she went to her relatives. She had a sensation as though
+she had had a presentiment of everything long before, for otherwise how
+could she have failed to have been struck before this by the kind of
+relations which existed between her brother-in-law and his wife? The
+former again made jocular remarks about Bertha's visit to Vienna. He
+asked when she was going there again, and whether they would not soon be
+hearing of her engagement. Bertha entered into the joke, and told how at
+least a dozen men had proposed to her, amongst others, a Government
+official; but she felt that her lips alone were speaking and smiling,
+while her soul remained serious and silent.
+
+Richard sat beside her, and his knee touched hers, by chance. And as he
+was pouring out a glass of wine for her and she seized his hand to stop
+him, she felt a comforting glow steal up her arm as far as her shoulder.
+It made her feel happy. It seemed to her that she was being unfaithful to
+Emil. And that was quite as she wished; she wanted Emil to know that her
+senses were on the alert, that she was just the same as other women, and
+that she could accept the embraces of her nephew in just the same way as
+she did his.... Ah, yes, if he only knew it! That was what she ought to
+have written in her letter, not that humble, longing letter!...
+
+But even while these thoughts were surging through her mind, she remained
+serious in the depths of her soul, and a feeling of solitude actually
+came over her, for she knew that no one could imagine what was taking
+place within her.
+
+Afterwards, when she was walking homewards through the deserted streets,
+she met an officer whom she knew by sight. With him he had a pretty woman
+whom she had never seen before.
+
+"Evidently a woman from Vienna!" she thought, for she knew that the
+officers often had such visitors.
+
+She had a feeling of envy towards the woman; she wished that she was also
+being accompanied by a handsome young officer at that moment.... And why
+not?... After all, everybody was like that.... And now she herself had
+ceased to be a respectable woman. Emil, of course, did not believe that,
+any more than anybody else, and, anyhow, it was all just the same!
+
+She reached home, undressed and went to bed. But the air was too sultry.
+She got up again, went to the window and opened it. Outside, all was
+dark. Perhaps somebody could see her standing there at the window, could
+see her skin gleaming through the darkness.... Indeed, she would not mind
+at all if anybody did see her like that!... Then she lay down on the bed
+again.... Ah, yes, she was no better than any of the others! And there
+was no good reason either why she should be....
+
+Her thoughts grew indistinct.... Yes, he was the cause of it all, he had
+brought her to this, he had just taken her like a woman of the
+street--and then cast her off!... Ah, it was shameful, shameful!---how
+base men were! And yet ... it was delightful....
+
+She fell asleep.
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+
+A warm rain was gently falling the next morning. Thus Bertha was able
+to endure her immense impatience more easily than if the sun had been
+blazing down. She felt as though during her sleep much had been
+smoothed out within her. In the soft grey of the morning everything
+seemed so simple and so utterly commonplace. On the morrow she would
+receive the letter she was expecting, and the present day was just like
+a hundred others.
+
+She gave her pupils their music lessons. She was very strict with her
+nephew that day and rapped him on the knuckles when he played unbearably
+badly. He was a lazy pupil--that was all.
+
+In the afternoon she was struck by an idea, which seemed to herself to be
+extremely praiseworthy. She had for a long time past intended to teach
+Fritz how to read, and she would make a start that very day. For a whole
+hour she slaved away, instilling a few letters into his head.
+
+The rain still kept falling; it was a pity that she could not go for a
+walk. The afternoon would be long, very long. Surely she ought to go and
+see Herr Rupius without further delay. It was too bad of her that she had
+not called on him since her return from Vienna. It was quite possible
+that he would feel somewhat ashamed of himself in her presence, because
+just lately he had been using such big words, and now Anna was still with
+him, after all....
+
+Bertha left the house. In spite of the rain, she walked, first of all,
+out into the open country. It was long since she had been so tranquil as
+she was that day; she rejoiced in the day without agitation, without
+fear, and without expectation. Oh, if it could be always like that! She
+was astonished at the indifference with which she could think of Emil.
+She would be more than content if she should not hear another word from
+him, and could continue in her present state of tranquillity forever....
+Yes, it was good and pleasant to be like that--to live in the little
+town, to give the few music lessons, which, after all, required no great
+effort, to educate her boy, to teach him to read, to write, and to count!
+Were her experiences of the last few days, she asked herself, worth so
+much anxiety--nay, so much humiliation? No, she was not intended for such
+things. It seemed as though the din of the great city, which had not
+disturbed her on her last visit, was now for the first time ringing in
+her ears, and she rejoiced in the beautiful calm which encompassed her in
+her present surroundings.
+
+Thus the state of profound lassitude into which her soul had fallen after
+the unaccustomed agitations of the last few days appeared to Bertha as a
+state of tranquillity that would be final.... And yet, only a short time
+later, when she was wending her way back to the town, the internal
+quietude gradually disappeared, and vague forebodings of fresh agitations
+and sorrows awoke within her.
+
+The sight of a young couple who passed her, pressed close to one another
+under an open umbrella, aroused in her a yearning for Emil. She did not
+resist it, for she already realized that everything within her was in
+such a state of upheaval that every breath brought some fresh and
+generally unexpected thing on to the surface of her soul.
+
+It was growing dusk when Bertha entered Herr Rupius' room. He was sitting
+at the table, with a portfolio of pictures before him. The hanging lamp
+was lighted.
+
+He looked up and returned her greeting.
+
+"Let me see; you, of course, came back from Vienna on the evening of the
+day before yesterday," he said.
+
+It sounded like a reproach, and Bertha had a sensation of guilt.
+
+"Well, sit down," he continued; "and tell me what happened to you
+in Vienna."
+
+"Nothing at all," answered Bertha. "I went to the Museum, and I have seen
+the originals of several of your pictures."
+
+Herr Rupius made no reply.
+
+"Your wife is coming back this very evening?"
+
+"I believe not"--he was silent for a time, and then said, with
+intentional dryness: "I must ask your pardon for having told you
+recently things which I am sure could not possibly have been of any
+interest to you. For the rest, I do not think that my wife will
+return to-day."
+
+"But.... She told me so herself, you know."
+
+"Yes, she told me also. She simply wanted to spare me the farewell, or
+rather the comedy of farewell. By that I don't mean anything at all
+untruthful, but just the things which usually accompany farewells:
+touching words, tears.... However, enough of that. Will you be good
+enough to come and see me at times? I shall be rather lonely, you know,
+when my wife is no longer with me."
+
+All this he said in a tone the sharpness of which was so little in
+keeping with the meaning of his words that Bertha sought in vain
+for a reply.
+
+Rupius, however, continued at once:
+
+"Well, and what else did you see besides the Museum?"
+
+With great animation, Bertha began to tell all sorts of things about her
+visit to Vienna. She also mentioned that she had met an old friend of her
+schooldays, whom she had not seen for a long time. Strangely, too, the
+meeting had taken place exactly in front of the Falckenborg picture.
+
+While she was speaking of Emil in this way without mentioning his name,
+her yearning for him increased until it seemed boundless, and she thought
+of writing to him again that day.
+
+Then she noticed that Herr Rupius was keeping his gaze fixed intently on
+the door. His wife had come into the room. She went up to him, smiling.
+
+"Here I am, back again!" she said, kissing him on the forehead; and then
+she held out her hand to Bertha.
+
+"Good evening, Frau Rupius," said Bertha, highly delighted.
+
+Herr Rupius spoke not a word, but signs of violent agitation could be
+seen on his face. His wife, who had not yet taken off her hat, turned
+away for a moment, and then Bertha noticed how Herr Rupius had rested his
+face on both his hands, and had begun to sob inwardly.
+
+Bertha left them. She was glad that Frau Rupius had returned; it seemed
+to be something in the nature of a good omen. By an early hour on the
+morrow she might receive the letter which would, perhaps, decide her
+fate. Her sense of restfulness had again completely vanished, but her
+being was filled with a different yearning from that which she had
+experienced before. She wished only to have Emil there, near her; she
+would have liked only to see him, to walk by his side.
+
+In the evening, after she had put her little boy to bed, she stopped on
+for a long time alone in the dining-room; she went to the piano and
+played a few chords, then she walked over to the window and gazed out
+into the darkness. The rain had ceased, the earth was imbibing the
+moisture, the clouds were still hanging heavily over the landscape.
+
+Bertha's whole being became imbued with yearning; everything within her
+called to him; her eyes sought to see him before her in the darkness; her
+lips breathed a kiss into the air, as though it could reach his lips;
+and, unconsciously, as if her wishes had to soar aloft, away from all
+else that surrounded her, she looked up to Heaven and whispered:
+
+"Give him back to me!..."
+
+Never had she been as at that moment. She had an impression that for the
+first time she now really loved him. Her love was free from all the
+elements which had previously disturbed it; there was no fear, no care,
+no doubt. Everything within her was the purest tenderness, and now, when
+a faint breeze came blowing and stirring the hair on her forehead, she
+felt as though it was a breath from the lips of Emil.
+
+The next morning came, but no letter. Bertha was a little disappointed,
+but not disquieted. Soon Elly, who had suddenly acquired a great liking
+for playing with Fritz, made her appearance. The servant, on returning
+from the market, brought the news that the doctor had been summoned in
+the greatest haste to Herr Rupius' house, though she did not know whether
+it was Herr Rupius or his wife who was ill. Bertha decided to go and
+inquire herself without waiting until after dinner.
+
+She gave the Mahlmaan twins their music lesson, feeling very
+absent-minded and nervous all the time, and then went to Herr Rupius'
+house. The servant told her that her mistress was ill in bed, but that it
+was nothing dangerous, although Doctor Friedrich had strictly forbidden
+that any visitors should be admitted. Bertha was frightened. She would
+have liked to speak to Herr Rupius, but did not wish to appear
+importunate.
+
+In the afternoon she made an attempt at continuing Fritz's education,
+but, do what she could, she met with no success. Again, she had the
+impression that her own hopes were influenced by Anna having been taken
+ill; if Anna had been well, it would have surely happened also that the
+letter would have arrived by that time. She knew that such an idea was
+utter nonsense, but she could not resist it.
+
+Soon after five o'clock she again set out to call on Herr Rupius. The
+maid admitted her. Herr Rupius himself wanted to speak to her. He was
+sitting in his easy-chair by the table.
+
+"Well?" asked Bertha.
+
+"The doctor is with her just at this moment--if you will wait a few
+minutes ..."
+
+Bertha did not venture to ask any questions, and both remained silent.
+After a few seconds, Doctor Friedrich came out from the bedroom.
+
+"Well, I cannot say anything definite yet," he said slowly; then, with a
+sudden resolution, he added: "Excuse me, Frau Garlan, but it is
+absolutely necessary for me to have a few words with Herr Rupius alone."
+
+Herr Rupius winced.
+
+"Then I won't disturb you," said Bertha mechanically, and she left them.
+
+But she was so agitated that it was impossible for her to go home, and
+she walked along the pathway leading between the vine-trellises to the
+cemetery. She felt that something mysterious was happening in that house.
+The thought occurred to her that Anna might, perhaps, have made an
+attempt to commit suicide. If only she did not die, Bertha said to
+herself. And immediately the thought followed: if only a nice letter were
+to come from Emil!
+
+She seemed to herself to be encompassed by nothing but dangers. She went
+into the cemetery. It was a beautiful, warm summer's day, and the flowers
+and blossoms were fragrant and fresh after the rain of the previous day.
+Bertha followed her accustomed path towards her husband's grave, but she
+felt that she had absolutely no object in going there. It was almost
+painful to her to read the words on the tombstone; they had no longer the
+least significance for her:
+
+"Victor Mathias Garlan, died the 6th June, 1895."
+
+It seemed to her, then, that any of her walks with Emil, which had
+happened ten years before, were nearer than the years she had spent by
+the side of her husband. Those years were as though they had not even
+existed ... she would not have been able to believe in them if Fritz had
+not been alive.... Suddenly the idea passed through her mind that Fritz
+was not Garlan's son at all ... perhaps he was really Emil's son.... Were
+not such things possible, after all?... And she felt at that moment that
+she could understand the doctrine of the Holy Ghost.... Then she was
+alarmed at the madness of her own thoughts.
+
+She looked at the broad roadway, stretching straight from the cemetery
+gate to the opposite wall, and all at once she knew, for a positive fact,
+that in a few days a coffin, with the corpse of Frau Rupius within it,
+would be borne along that road. She wanted to banish the idea, but the
+picture was there in full detail; the hearse was standing before the
+gate; the grave, which two men were digging yonder just at that moment,
+was destined for Frau Rupius; Herr Rupius was waiting by the open grave.
+He was sitting in his invalid chair, his plaid rug across his knees, and
+was staring at the coffin, which the black-garbed undertakers were slowly
+carrying along.... The vision was more than a mere presentiment; it was a
+precognition.... But whence had this idea come to her?
+
+Then she heard people talking behind her. Two women walked past her--one
+was the widow of a lieutenant-colonel who had recently died, the other
+was her daughter. Both greeted Bertha and walked slowly on. Bertha
+thought that these two women would consider her a faithful widow who
+still grieved for her husband, and she seemed to herself to be an
+impostor, and she retired hastily.
+
+Possibly there would be some news awaiting her at home, a telegram from
+Emil, perhaps--though that, indeed, would be nothing extraordinary ...
+after all, the two things were closely connected.... She wondered whether
+Frau Rupius still thought of what Bertha had told her at the railway
+station, and whether, perhaps, she would speak of it in her delirium ...
+however, that was a matter of indifference, indeed. The only matters of
+importance were that Emil should write and that Frau Rupius should get
+better.... She would have to call again and see Herr Rupius; he would be
+sure to tell her what the doctor had had to say.... And Bertha hastened
+homewards between the vine-trellises down the hill....
+
+Nothing had arrived, no letter, no telegram.... Fritz had gone out with
+the maid. Ah, how lonely she was. She hurried to Herr Rupius' house once
+more, and the maid opened the door to her. Things were progressing very
+badly, Herr Rupius was unable to see anyone....
+
+"But what is the matter with her? Don't you know what the doctor said?"
+
+"An inflammation, so the doctor said."
+
+"What kind of an inflammation?"
+
+"Or it might even be blood poisoning, he said. A nurse from the hospital
+will be here immediately."
+
+Bertha went away. On the square in front of the restaurant a few people
+were sitting, and one table, right in front, was occupied by some
+officers, as was usual at that time of the day.
+
+They didn't know what was going on up yonder, thought Bertha, otherwise
+they wouldn't be sitting there and laughing.... Blood poisoning--well,
+what could that mean?... Obviously Frau Rupius had attempted to commit
+suicide!... But why?... Because she was unable to go away--or did not
+wish to?--but she wouldn't die--no, she must not die!
+
+Bertha called on her relatives, so as to pass the time. Only her
+sister-in-law was at home; she already knew that Frau Rupius had been
+taken ill, but that did not affect her very much, and she soon began to
+talk of other things. Bertha could not endure it, and took her departure.
+
+In the evening she tried to tell Fritz stories, then she read the paper,
+in which, amongst other things, she found another announcement of the
+concert at which Emil was to play. It struck her as very strange that the
+concert was still an event which was announced to take place, and not one
+long since over.
+
+She was unable to go to bed without making one more inquiry at Herr
+Rupius' house. She met the nurse in the anteroom. It was the one Doctor
+Friedrich always sent to his private patients. She had a cheerful-looking
+face, and a comforting expression in her eyes.
+
+"The doctor will be sure to pull Frau Rupius through," she said.
+
+And, although Bertha knew that the nurse was always making such
+observations, she felt more reassured.
+
+She walked home, went to bed, and fell quietly asleep.
+
+
+
+
+XI
+
+
+The next morning Bertha was late in waking up. She was fresh after her
+good night's rest. A letter was lying beside the bed. And then, for the
+first time that morning, everything came back to her mind; Frau Rupius
+was very ill, and here was a letter from Emil. She seized it so hurriedly
+that she set the little candlestick shaking violently; she opened the
+envelope and read the letter.
+
+"My DEAR BERTHA,
+
+"Many thanks for your nice letter. I was very pleased to get it. But I
+must tell you that your idea of coming to live permanently in Vienna
+requires again to be carefully considered by you. Circumstances here are
+quite different from what you seem to imagine. Even the native, fully
+accredited musicians have the greatest difficulty in obtaining pupils at
+anything like decent fees, and for you it would be--at the beginning, at
+least--almost a matter of impossibility. Where you are now you have your
+assured income, your circle of relations and friends, your home; and,
+finally, it is the place where you lived with your husband, where your
+child was born, and so it is the place where you ought to be.
+
+"And, apart from all these considerations, it would be a very foolish
+procedure on your part to plunge into the exhausting struggle for a
+livelihood in the city. I purposely refrain from saying anything about
+the part which your affection for me (you know I return it with all my
+heart) seems to play in your proposals; to bring that in would carry
+the whole question over to another domain, and we must not let that
+happen. I will accept no sacrifice from you, under any condition. I
+need not assure you that I would like to see you again, and soon, too,
+for there is nothing I desire so much as to spend another such an hour
+with you as that which you recently gave me (and for which I am very
+grateful to you).
+
+"So, then, arrange matters, my child, in such a way that, say, every four
+or six weeks you can come to Vienna for a day and a night. We will often
+be very happy again, I trust. I regret I cannot see you during the next
+few days, and, moreover, I start off on a tour immediately after the
+concert. I have to play in London during the season there, and after that
+I am going on to Scotland. So I look forward to the joyful prospect of
+meeting you again in the autumn.
+
+"I greet you and kiss that sweet spot behind your ear, which I love
+best of all.
+
+"Your
+
+"EMIL."
+
+When Bertha had read the letter to the end, for some little time she sat
+bolt upright in the bed. A shudder seemed to pass through her whole body.
+She was not surprised; she knew that she had expected no other kind of
+letter. She shook herself....
+
+Every four or six weeks ... excellent! Yes, for a day and a night.... It
+was shameful, shameful!... And how afraid he was that she might go to
+Vienna.... And then that observation right at the end, as if his object
+had been, while he was still at a safe distance, so to speak, to
+stimulate her senses, because that, forsooth, was the only kind of
+relations he desired to keep up with her.... It was shameful,
+shameful!... What sort of a woman had she been! She felt a
+loathing--loathing!...
+
+She sprang out of bed and dressed herself.... Well, what was going to
+happen after that?... It was over, over, over! He had not time to spare
+for her--no time at all!... One night every, six weeks, after the
+autumn.... Yes, my dear sir, I at once accept your honourable proposals
+with pleasure. Indeed, for myself, I desire nothing better! I will go on
+turning sour; I will go on giving music lessons and growing imbecile in
+this hole of a town.... You will fiddle away, turn women's heads, travel,
+be rich, famous and happy--and every four or six weeks I may hope to be
+taken for one night to some shabby room where you entertain your women of
+the street.... It was shameful, shameful, shameful!...
+
+Quick! She would get ready to go to Frau Rupius--Anna was ill, seriously
+ill--what mattered anything else?
+
+Before she went out, Bertha pressed Fritz to her heart, and she recalled
+the passage in Emil's letter: it is the place where your child was
+born.... Indeed, that was quite right, too; but Emil had not said that
+because it was true, but only to avoid the danger of having to see her
+more than once in six weeks.
+
+She hurried off.... How was it, then, that she did not feel any
+nervousness on Frau Rupius' account?... Ah, of course, she had known
+that Frau Rupius had been better the previous evening. But where was
+the letter, though?... She had again thrust it quite mechanically into
+her bodice.
+
+Some officers were sitting in front of the restaurant having breakfast.
+They were all covered with dust, having just returned from the
+manoeuvres. One of them gazed after Bertha. He was a very young man, and
+could only have obtained his commission quite recently....
+
+Pray, don't be afraid, thought Bertha. I am altogether at your disposal.
+I have an engagement which takes me into Vienna only once every four or
+six weeks ... please, tell me when you would like ...
+
+The balcony door was open, the red velvet piano cover was hanging over
+the balustrade. Well, evidently order had been restored again--otherwise,
+would the cover have been hanging over the balustrade?... Of course not,
+so forward then, and upstairs without fear....
+
+The maid opened the door. There was no need for Bertha to ask her any
+questions; in her wide-open eyes there was an expression of terrified
+amazement, such as is only called forth by the proximity of an
+appalling death.
+
+Bertha went in. She entered the drawing-room first; the door leading to
+the bedroom was open to its full extent. The bed was standing in the
+middle of the room, away from the wall, and free on all sides. At the
+foot was sitting the nurse, looking very tired, with her head sunk upon
+her breast, Herr Rupius was sitting in his invalid's chair by the head of
+the bed. The room was so dark that it was not until Bertha had come quite
+close that she could see Anna's face clearly. Frau Rupius seemed to be
+asleep. Bertha came nearer. She could hear the patient's breathing; it
+was regular, but inconceivably rapid--she had never heard a human being
+breathe like that before. Then Bertha felt that the eyes of the two
+others were fixed upon her. Her surprise at having been admitted in this
+unceremonious manner lasted only for a moment, since she understood that
+all precautionary measures had now become superfluous; the matter had
+been decided.
+
+Suddenly another pair of eyes turned towards Bertha. Frau Rupius opened
+her eyes, and was watching her friend attentively. The nurse made room
+for Bertha, and went into the adjoining room. Bertha sat down, moving her
+chair closer to the bed. She noticed that Anna was slowly stretching out
+her hand towards her. She grasped it.
+
+"Dear Frau Rupius," she said, "you are already getting on much better
+now, are you not?"
+
+She felt that she was again saying something awkward, but she knew she
+could not help doing so. It was just her fate to say such things in the
+presence of Frau Rupius, even in her last hour.
+
+Anna smiled; she looked as pale and young as a girl.
+
+"Thank you, dear Bertha," she said.
+
+"But whatever for, my dear, dear Anna?"
+
+She had the greatest difficulty in restraining her tears. At the same
+time, however, she was very curious to hear what had actually happened.
+
+A long interval of silence ensued. Anna closed her eyes again and
+appeared to sleep. Herr Rupius sat motionless in his chair. Bertha looked
+sometimes at Anna and sometimes at him.
+
+In any case, she must wait, she thought. She wondered what Emil would
+say if _she_ were suddenly to die. Ah, surely it would cause him some
+slight grief if he had to think that she whom he had held in his arms a
+few days before now lay mouldering in the grave. He might even weep.
+Yes, he would weep if she were to die ... wretched egoist though he was
+at other times....
+
+Ah, but where were her thoughts flying to again? Wasn't she still
+holding her friend's hand in her own? Oh, if she could only save her!...
+Who was now in the worse plight--this woman who was doomed to die, or
+Bertha herself--who had been so ignominiously deceived? Was it necessary,
+though, to put it so strongly as that, because of one night?... Ah, but
+that had much too fine a sound!... for the sake of one hour--to humiliate
+her so--to ruin her so--was not that unscrupulous and shameless?... How
+she hated him! How she hated him!... If only he were to break down at the
+next concert, so that all the people would laugh him to scorn, and he
+would be put to shame, and all the papers would have the news--"The
+career of Herr Emil Lindbach is absolutely ended." And all his women
+would say: "Ah, I don't like that a bit, a fiddler who breaks down!"...
+
+Yes, then he would probably remember her, the only woman who had loved
+him since the days of her girlhood, who loved him truly ... and whom he
+was now treating so basely!... Then he would be sure to come back to her
+and beg her to forgive him--and she would say to him: "Do you see, Emil;
+do you see, Emil?"... for, naturally, anything more intelligent than that
+would not occur to her....
+
+And there she was thinking again of him, always of him--and here somebody
+was dying, and she was sitting by the bed, and that silent person there
+was the husband.... It was all so quiet; only from the street, as though
+wafted up over the balcony and through the open door, came a confused
+murmur--men's voices, the rumble of the traffic, the jingle of a
+cyclist's bell, the clattering of a sabre on the pavement, and, now and
+then, the twitter of the birds--but it all seemed so far away, so utterly
+unconnected with actuality.
+
+Anna became restless and tossed her head to and fro--several times,
+quickly, quicker and quicker....
+
+"Now it's beginning!" said a soft voice behind Bertha.
+
+She turned round. It was the nurse with the cheerful features; but Bertha
+now perceived that that expression did not denote cheerfulness at all,
+but was only the result of a strained effort never to allow sorrow to be
+noticeable, and she considered the face to be indescribably fearful....
+What was it the nurse had said?... "Now it's beginning."... Yes, like a
+concert or a play ... and Bertha remembered that once the same words had
+been spoken beside her own bed, at the time when she began to feel the
+pangs of childbirth....
+
+Suddenly Anna opened her eyes, opened them very wide, so that they
+appeared immense; she fixed them on her husband, and, vainly striving,
+meanwhile, to raise herself up, said in a quite clear voice:
+
+"It was only you, only you ... believe me, it was only you whom I
+have..."
+
+The last word was unintelligible, but Bertha guessed it.
+
+Then Herr Rupius bent down, and kissed the dying woman on the forehead.
+Anna threw her arms around him; his lips lingered long on her eyes.
+
+The nurse had gone out of the room again. Suddenly Anna pushed her
+husband away from her; she no longer recognized him; delirium had set in.
+
+Bertha rose to her feet in great alarm, but she remained standing
+by the bed.
+
+"Go now!" said Herr Rupius to her.
+
+She lingered.
+
+"Go!" he repeated, this time in a stern voice.
+
+Bertha realized that she must go. She left the room quietly on tip-toes,
+as though Anna might still be disturbed by the sound of footsteps. Just
+as she entered the adjoining room she saw Doctor Friedrich, who was
+taking off his overcoat and, at the same time, was talking to a young
+doctor, the assistant at the hospital.
+
+He did not notice Bertha, and she heard him say:
+
+"In any other case I would have notified the authorities, but, as this
+affair falls out as it does.... Besides, there would be a terrible
+scandal, and poor Rupius would be the worst sufferer--" then he saw
+Bertha--"Good day, Frau Garlan."
+
+"Oh, doctor, what is really the matter, then?"
+
+Doctor Friedrich threw his colleague a rapid glance.
+
+"Blood poisoning," he replied. "You are, of course, aware, my dear
+Frau Garlan, that people often cut their fingers and die as a
+result; the wound cannot always he located. It is a great
+misfortune.... Yes, indeed!"
+
+He went into the room, followed by the assistant.
+
+Bertha went into the street like one stupified. What could be the meaning
+of the words which she had overheard--"information?"--"scandal?" Yes, had
+Herr Rupius, perhaps, murdered his own wife?... No, what nonsense! But
+some injury had been done to her, it was quite obvious ... and it must
+have been, in some way, connected with the visit to Vienna; for she had
+been taken ill during the night subsequent to her journey.... And the
+words of the dying woman recurred to Bertha: "It was only you, only you
+whom I have loved!..." Had they not sounded like a prayer for
+forgiveness? "Loved only you"--but ... another ... of course, she had a
+lover in Vienna.... Well, yes, but what followed?... Yes, she had wished
+to go away, and had not done so after all.... What could it have been
+that she said on that occasion at the railway station?... "I have made up
+my mind to do something else."... Yes, of course, she had taken leave of
+her lover in Vienna, and, on her return--had poisoned herself?... But why
+should she do that, though, if she loved only her husband?... And that
+was not a lie, certainly not!
+
+Bertha could not understand....
+
+Why ever had she gone away, then?... What should she do now, too?... She
+could not rest. She could neither go home nor to her relatives, she must
+go back again.... She wondered, too, whether Anna would have to die if
+another letter from Emil came that day?... In truth, she was losing her
+reason.... Of course, these two things had not the least connection
+between them ... and yet ... why was she unable to dissociate them one
+from the other?...
+
+Once more she hurried up the steps. Not a quarter of an hour had elapsed
+since she had left the house. The hall door was open, the nurse was in
+the anteroom.
+
+"It is all over," she said.
+
+Bertha went on. Herr Rupius was sitting by the table, all alone; the door
+leading to the death-chamber was closed. He made Bertha come quite close
+to him, then he seized the hand which she stretched out to him.
+
+"Why, why did she do it?" he said. "Why did she do _that_?"
+
+Bertha was silent.
+
+"It wasn't necessary," continued Herr Rupius, "Heaven knows, it wasn't
+necessary. What difference could the other men make to me--tell me that?"
+
+Bertha nodded.
+
+"The main point is to live--yes, that is it! Why did she do that?"
+
+It sounded like a suppressed wail, although he seemed to be speaking
+very quietly. Bertha burst into tears.
+
+"No, it wasn't necessary! I would have brought it up--brought it up as my
+own child!"
+
+Bertha looked up sharply. All at once she understood everything, and a
+terrible fear ran through her whole being. She thought of herself. If in
+that night she also ... in that one hour?... So great was her terror that
+she believed that she must be losing her reason. What had hitherto been
+scarcely more than a vague possibility floating through her mind now
+loomed suddenly before her, an indisputable certainty. It could not
+possibly be otherwise, the death of Anna was an omen, the pointing of the
+finger of God.
+
+At the same time there arose within her mind the recollection of the day,
+twelve years ago, when she had been walking with Emil on the bank of the
+Wien, and he had kissed her and for the first time she had felt an ardent
+yearning for a child. How was it that she had not experienced the same
+yearning when, recently, she felt his arms about her?... Yes, she knew
+now; she had desired nothing more than the pleasures of the moment; she
+had been no better than a woman of the streets. It would be only the just
+punishment of Heaven if she also perished in her shame, like the poor
+woman lying in the next room.
+
+"I would like to see her once more," she said.
+
+Rupius pointed towards the door. Bertha opened it, went up slowly to the
+bed on which lay the body of the dead woman, gazed upon her friend for a
+long time, and kissed her on both eyes. Then a sense of unequalled
+restfulness stole over her. She would have liked to have remained beside
+the corpse for hours together, for, in proximity to it, her own sorrow
+and disappointment became as nothing to her. She knelt down by the bed
+and clasped her hands, but she did not pray.
+
+All at once everything danced before her eyes. Suddenly a well-known
+attack of weakness came over her, a dizziness which passed off
+immediately. At first she trembled slightly, but then she drew a deep
+breath, as one who has been rescued, because, indeed, with the approach
+of that lassitude, she felt at the same time that, at that moment, not
+only her previous apprehensions, but all the illusion of that confused
+day, the last tremors of the desires of womanhood, everything which she
+had considered to be love, had begun to merge and to fade away into
+nothingness. And kneeling by the death-bed, she realized that she was not
+one of those women who are gifted with a cheerful temperament and can
+quaff the joys of life without trepidation. She thought with disgust of
+that hour of pleasure that had been granted her, and, in comparison with
+the purity of that yearning kiss, the recollection of which had
+beautified her whole existence, the shameless joys which she then had
+tasted seemed to her like an immense falsehood.
+
+The relations which had existed between the paralysed man in the room
+beyond and this woman, who had had to die for her deceit, seemed now to
+be spread out before her with wonderful clearness. And, while she gazed
+upon the pallid brow of the dead woman she could not help thinking of the
+unknown man, on account of whom Anna had had to die, and who, exempt from
+punishment, and, perhaps, remorseless, too, dared to go about in a great
+town and to live on, like any other--no, like thousands and thousands of
+others who had stared at her with covetous, indecent glances. Bertha
+divined what an enormous wrong had been wrought against the world in that
+the longing for pleasure is placed in woman just as in man: and that with
+women that longing is a sin, demanding expiation, if the yearning for
+pleasure is not at the same time a yearning for motherhood.
+
+She rose, threw a last farewell glance at her dearly loved friend, and
+left the death-chamber.
+
+Herr Rupius was sitting in the adjoining room, exactly as she had left
+him. She was seized with a profound desire to speak some words of
+consolation to him. For a moment it seemed to her as though her own
+destiny had only had this one purpose: to enable her fully to understand
+the misery of that man. She would have liked to have been able to tell
+him so, but she felt that he was one of those who desire to be alone with
+their sorrow. And so, without speaking, she sat down opposite to him.
+
+
+
+
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