The Children of the World Part 25

"My change is very much for the worse, don't you think so?" she asked, still busied with the flowers. "This plush furniture--it's said to be an elegant apartment, but in comparison to the really stylish appearance of the old rooms, looks like a mere lumber shop. However, I can pay this quarter's rent and live among respectable people. But tell me, how did you discover me? I thought, as I had discharged the carriage, and no longer allowed the dwarf, who begged most pitifully to be kept, to wear livery, I could live here in the most complete incognita--so long as my money lasted. You were angry with me because I vanished so suddenly, were you not? Look into my face and tell me frankly, whether you were really angry or not?"

She had turned hastily toward him and was now gazing at him with beseeching, mischievous eyes, as if she no more doubted the falsity of her words, than that he would be weak enough to show mercy before justice.

"My dear Fraulein," said he, trying to smile, "as you have, unfortunately, never permitted me to show you any kindness, I've not ventured to take the liberty of being angry with you. I had forced myself upon you, you took the first opportunity to get rid of me--that's so natural, that a man needn't be your 'wise friend' to understand it."

"Oh! no," she answered thoughtfully, "that's not exactly it. Do you know that I've more than once commenced a note to you, to tell you where I was to be found. Then I tore it up again. Silence seemed to me wiser for us both; wiser for me, that I might wean myself in time from that most dangerous luxury: a friend; and wiser for you, because some day you might get tired of being my '_wise friend_,' and then the affair would end in a way I would fain spare you. You smile. So much the better, if you find no danger in it. Besides, it would now be too late; you've found me again, probably your friend the doctor, who saw me at the window yesterday, tattled. I'm very glad you're here. You can't imagine what tiresome hours I've spent, almost always sad or listless."

"Where did you wish to go?"

"Yes, where? That was just the question. Back to my commonplace poverty--ah! at the thought a cold shudder ran over me, as if I were about to jump into a marsh and sink up to my neck. To stoop to the yoke of a governess, here in the city, where I've lived as a great lady, seemed terrible too. So I shall live on in this way a few weeks longer, and then when the last louis d'or is exhausted, close my eyes, and dare a plunge--into the great nothing. Or do you believe that there is a something?"

"No," he answered quietly. "And for that very reason, it seems to me folly to hastily throw away the something we possess here."

"Hastily? How long is one to wait? When would you permit a person, who did not find this something worth the trouble it costs, to take refuge in nothing?"

"When he quite despairs of being anything in the world, of making himself useful or giving pleasure to himself or anybody else."

"Well then--in that case, you might without hesitation sign my pa.s.sport for departure. For that _I_ am an utterly useless creature, and at the utmost can only afford Jean Jacques a little pleasure when I give him five groschen to feast at a cake shop--"

The tears that she had vainly endeavored to repress, burst forth, yet she did not turn away from him, but stood at the little table before the sofa, resting both slender hands on its polished surface as if to support herself, while large drops fell from her black lashes.

Edwin watched her with the deepest sympathy. He was obliged to use the greatest self control, to refrain from standing up and clasping her in his arms, to console her as one would a child.

"If you did not endure my presence simply for the sake of my wisdom,"

he said as calmly as possible, "I would give you the most absurd proofs, that your existence was a necessity of life to some one besides Friend Jean, a blessing, a source of joy, though to be sure not wholly unclouded. But aside from all nonsense: you must not go on so, Toinette. You're quite right: one who lives so during the day, at last pa.s.ses out of the day into the night that has no morning. I see that I've come just at the right time. Courage, child, courage! Permit me to tell you that you don't yet understand the life you wish to cast away. No indeed," he continued, as she gazed at him through her tears with a look of surprise, which seemed to say: 'yet I've experienced enough'--"you know only want and affluence; but there are a thousand steps between, on which a sensible person can sit down very comfortably and accommodate himself to the world. To be sure, he must possess one thing to make life endurable anywhere."

"You mean a contented heart?"

"Heaven forbid, my dear friend! It should be a very much spoiled, exacting heart; do you suppose, for instance, mine would take a predilection so easily? But it will not matter if the heart is needy and rich at the same time--that wonderfully contradictory condition called love, when we know not which is most blessed, to give or to receive, where we are never satisfied with giving and receiving, and in this absurdly delightful and nonsensically clever occupation, have no time to consider the rest of earthly things, plush furniture or wooden chairs, because the whole question of wealth or poverty has been transferred to another province."

He relapsed into silence, and eagerly watched the effect of his words.

Her tears had ceased to flow, and she was gazing absently and dreamily into vacancy.

"I don't understand you, and you can't understand me," she answered with a scornful shake of the head. "How often must I tell you, that I've no talent for what you call 'love!' As in this present world, both in reality and romance, everything seems to turn upon it as a pivot, you must easily understand, that I do not suit such a world. No, things can't go on so, long. And really, if I were not so cowardly, and did not fear _pain_--but that will, always restrain me until life becomes still more unendurable, and the feeling of loneliness and desolation at last increases to a physical anguish keener than all other."

He rose and took her hand. "Dear Toinette, you're in a morbid, over-excited state, and must allow your friend to cure you. Will you trust yourself to me? You shall not swallow any bitter draught, or have your heart cut out, that we may see what this obstinate little muscle wants ere it can do its duty like a thousand others. I'll show you a little of the world, teach you how it is const.i.tuted on an average and how men bear with each other and till the void of which you complain, on week-days and holidays. To-morrow will be Sunday. I should think we might do like nine-tenths of our fellow citizens, and take advantage of the fine weather for a little excursion into the country.

"Willingly. But where shall we go?"

"That's my affair. I must beg you to leave the whole arrangement to me.

Fortunately you have dismissed your carriage, so you will leave the striped waistcoat at home."

"Poor boy! Why don't you give him a share in the pleasure?"

"Because private tutors are not able to go out to amuse themselves with a train of attendants. I'll persuade my brother to accompany us instead. I hope you don't object."

"I! Didn't I tell you long ago, how curious I've always been to see what kind of a brother you have."

"You'll make the acquaintance of a very charming young fellow, and I warn you in advance, do not allow it to be too evident that you like him much better than your pedantic friend. With all my brotherly love, I won't answer for it that I should not feel a certain degree of jealousy. But many things which you think 'wise' and don't understand in me, will perhaps become clearer when you've seen a man like Balder.

By the bye, you'll not wear a very magnificent dress? I hope to show you that the fewer ducal pretensions people make, the more royally they can amuse themselves."

She smiled. "You're a good man, to take so much trouble about a poor, incurable creature. Do whatever you choose, you shall have unlimited authority to improve me as much as you can."

"To-morrow morning at ten, then! Farewell, most august friend."

"You're graciously dismissed, worthy friend and marshal of the royal household." With a bow of mock condescension, she gave him her hand, which he raised to his lips with smiling reverence.

"And until to-morrow morning, neither poison nor dagger!" he cried on reaching the doorway, shaking his finger.

"I'll hold out until then," she answered gaily. "Out of curiosity to see your brother."

CHAPTER III.

"It's true! Rinaldo is in the old chains again!" exclaimed Edwin, as he entered the room where Balder sat alone, sunning himself in the window.

He was apparently unoccupied, for he had hastily locked up the volume in which he had been writing verses, when he heard Edwin's step in the courtyard below, nevertheless the reflection of his poetic dreams still lingered in his eyes.

"Have you found her?" he asked. "How did she appear?"

"Exactly as usual, neither cordial nor repellant. Oh! child, if you could but solve this problem! How can one long for grapes, which not only hang too high, but are after all merely painted. If, in the moon, there live creatures resembling men, who breath a special atmosphere, and have in their veins some vital ichor different from our blood, they may appear like this girl. Something of the true woman is lacking, and yet she possesses everything that hundreds of others need to attain the full meaning of womanhood. My brain aches with trying to understand the mystery."

He threw himself into a chair before the table, now set for dinner, and drank a gla.s.s of water.

"And shall you go to her every day as before?" asked Balder sadly.

"As long as I can hold out. As long as it lasts. For I fear she will ultimately become such a mystery to herself, that she will commit some mad act. I proposed to cure her, to make life dear to her, to transform Mephistopheles, 'first of all I must bring her into better company.'

But I don't imagine I shall succeed in finding a life purpose for her, a task which will really warm her heart, fill her days, and of which she can dream at night. Ah! if she only had a brain like that of my little hedge princess Leah! But that's the strangest thing of all: she's clever and yet entirely without any craving for knowledge; without prejudices and perfectly indifferent to the opinions of others, kind hearted without any interest in mankind; gay without being contented, bright without being warm--and I, as a punishment for my sins, am condemned to lavish as much heart's blood upon this strange specimen of her s.e.x, as if I were attempting a moral transfusion, instead of the physical one that has long been tried. You'll see, child: when I've once succeeded in replacing the moon-lymph in her veins with warm, earthly human blood, the first dandy that comes along will reap the advantage, and I shall have to pocket the disappointment.

However, perhaps your clairvoyant eyes will solve the enigma more easily than I."

"I--how should I--?"

"I promised to take her into the country to-morrow and to bring you with me. She's very anxious to make your acquaintance."

"You're joking, Edwin."

"Not at all. I should like to know what impression she makes upon perfectly unprejudiced persons. In spite of my own folly, I'm sure that you're not in love with her. If you become really dangerous to her peace of mind, so much the better, let her experience for once what the feeling is and I'll endure the inevitable disappointment with dignity.

Seriously, child, I should like to see what she's worth 'between brothers.' Besides, you ought not to decline, for Marquard thinks a drive in this air would do you a great deal of good."

A pause ensued. Balder gazed silently into vacancy and did not seem disposed to give an immediate answer. At last he said: "You must not take it amiss, Edwin, but I can't go with you; surely you know it will be better for me to stay at home."

"Better? For whom?"

"For all. I should only be a burden if I were obliged to limp about everywhere with you--and then--I've been in ladies' society so little.

I should be either very stupid, or say something awkward which would embarra.s.s you."

Edwin had risen and now stood directly before him. "Can you look me in the eyes, you cunning hypocrite?" he exclaimed. "As if you could ever do or say anything awkward! I know exactly why you don't want to go: you think I'm only taking you out of brotherly love and courtesy, and would really much prefer being alone with my cold sweet heart. But this time, dear searcher of the heart, you're entirely wrong. I a.s.sure you, by all that a private tutor holds sacred: you'll do me a favor by making one of this party. Besides, I've exhausted my Latin, and fear if we're alone she'll discover it and give her tutor lover his discharge in good earnest."