The Lost Manuscript Part 27

"How well you describe it; 'tis as if one was reading a poem."

"Ah, no," exclaimed Ilse, shaking her head; "this compliment is just what I do not in the least deserve. I have never in my life made a verse and I am so prosaic that I do not know how my unpolished nature will adapt itself to the town, for here they write verses; they hum about in the air like flies in summer."

"What do you mean?" asked Laura, hanging her head.

"Only think, even I, a stranger, have received verses!"

"That is quite natural," said Laura, folding her handkerchief to conceal her confusion.

"I have found little nosegays on the bench in the park, with dear little poems, and the name of my home given by a letter and stars. See, first a large B, and then----"

Laura, in her delight at this account, looked up, from her handkerchief. Her cheeks were suffused with color. There was a roguish smile in her eyes.

Ilse looked at the beaming countenance and, as she spoke, guessed that she was the giver.

Laura bent down to kiss her hand, but Ilse raised the curly head, threatening her with her finger and kissing her.

"You are not angry with me," said Laura, "for being so bold?"

"It was very sweet and kind of you, but you must know that it caused us a great deal of uneasiness. The Doctor discovered you, but he did not tell us your name."

"The Doctor?" exclaimed Laura, starting up. "Must that man always interfere where I am concerned!"

"He kept your secret faithfully. Now I may tell my husband all about it, may I not? but, between ourselves, he was very much displeased for a time."

This was a triumph for Laura. Again she seated herself at Ilse's feet and archly begged her to relate what the Professor had said.

"That would not be right," answered Ilse, gravely; "that is his secret."

Thus an hour pa.s.sed in pleasant talk till the clock struck, and Ilse rose hastily. "My husband will wonder where I have disappeared to,"

said she. "You are a dear girl. If you like we will become good friends."

Ah! that pleased Laura very much. She accompanied her visitor to the staircase, and on the step it occurred to her that she had forgotten the princ.i.p.al thing she wanted to say; her room was directly above that of the Professor's wife, and when Ilse opened the window she could communicate quickly with her by signals. Just as Ilse was about to close her door, Laura ran down once more in order to express her joy that Ilse had granted her this hour.

Laura returned to her room, paced up and down with rapid steps, and snapped her fingers like one who has won the great prize in a lottery.

She confided to her journal her account of the consecrated hour, and of every word that Ilse had spoken, and concluded with verses:

"I found thee, pure one! Now my dream will live.

And tho' 'twixt joy and pain thy soul may pine, I touch thy garment's hem and homage give, And lovingly thee in my heart enshrine."

Then she seated herself at the piano and played with impa.s.sioned expression the melody which Ilse had sung to her. And Ilse below heard this heartfelt outburst of thanks for her visit.

_CHAPTER XIV_.

A DAY OF VISITS.

A carriage drove up to the door. Ilse entered her husband's study, attired for her first visit. "Look at me," she said; "do I look all right?"

"Very well," cried the Professor, joyfully, scanning his wife. But it was well that everything was as it should be without his help, for in matter of the toilet the critical eye of the Professor was of doubtful value.

"Now I begin a new game," continued Ilse, "such as the children used to play at home. I am to knock at your friends' doors and call out, Halloa, halloa! and when the ladies ask. Who is there? I shall answer, as in the game:

"I am a poor, poor beggar-maid, And what I want is this: For me I want a piece of bread; For my husband I want a kiss."

"Well, so far as the kisses are concerned that I am to dispense to the wives of my colleagues," replied the Professor, putting on his gloves, "I should, on the whole, be obliged to you if you would take that business upon yourself."

"Ah, you men are very strict," said Ilse; "my little Franz also always refuses to play the game, because he would not kiss the stupid girls. I only hope that I'll not disgrace you."

They drove through the streets. On the way the Professor gave his wife an account of the persons and the particular branch of learning of each of his colleagues to whom he was taking her.

"Let us visit pleasant people first," he said. "Yonder lives Professor Raschke, our professor of philosophy, and a dear friend of mine. I hope his wife will please you."

"Is he very famous," asked Ilse, laying her hand on her beating heart.

The carriage stopped before a low dwelling at the further end of the suburb. Gabriel hastened into the house to announce the visitors; finding the kitchen empty, he knocked at the parlor-door, and, finally, being experienced in the customs of the family, opened the entrance into the court yard. "Professor Raschke and his wife are in the garden."

The visitors pa.s.sed through a narrow yard into a kitchen-garden, which the owner of the house had given his lodger permission to walk in, to get the benefit of the air. The couple were walking along the path under the noon-sun of an autumn day. The lady carried a little child on her arm; the husband held a book in his hand, from which he was reading to his companion. In order, however, to do as much family duty as possible, the Professor had fastened the pole of a baby carriage to his belt and thus drew a second child after him. The backs of the couple were turned to the guests and they moved slowly forward, listening and reading aloud.

"An encounter in the narrow path is not desirable," said Felix; "we must wait until they turn round the square and face us."

It was some time before the procession overcame the hindrances of the journey, for the Professor in the eagerness of reading, sometimes stopped to explain, as might be seen from the motion of his hands. Ilse examined the appearance of the strange pedestrians with curiosity. The wife was pale and delicate; one could perceive that she had recently left a sick bed. The man had a n.o.bly formed, intellectual face, about which hung long dark hair with a sprinkling of gray upon it. They had come close to the guests, when the wife turned her eyes from her husband and perceived the visitors.

"What a pleasure!" cried the Philosopher, dropping his book into the great pocket of his coat. "Good morning, my dear colleague. Ha! that is our dear Professor's wife. Unhitch me from the carriage, Aurelia; the family bonds hamper me."

The unhitching took some time, as the hands of the mistress of the house were not free, and Professor Raschke by no means kept still, but struggled forward, and had already seized with both hands those of his colleague and wife.

"Come into the house, my dear guests," he exclaimed, striding forward with long steps, while Felix introduced his wife to the lady. Professor Raschke forgot his baby carriage, which Ilse lifted over the threshold and rolled into the hall. There she took up the neglected child from its seat and both ladies entered the room with a diminutive chip of philosophy in their arms, exchanging their first friendly greetings, while the little one in Ilse's arms l.u.s.tily swung his rattle, and the youngest child on the arm of its mother began to scream. Meanwhile colleague Raschke went about clearing the room, removed books and papers from the sofa, shook faded sofa-cushions into form, which emitted clouds of dust, and cordially invited his guests to be seated.

At length the confusion subsided. Ilse played with the child on her lap, while Mrs. Raschke after a disappearance for a moment came back without the screaming infant. She sat shyly by Ilse, but asked her friendly questions in a gentle voice. The lively Philosopher, however, was always interrupting the conversation of the ladies; he stroked the hand of the Professor, while he nodded in the direction of his wife.

"This is quite right; I rejoice that you accustom yourself to our mode of life while still so young, for our wives have not an easy time of it--their outer life is limited and they have many demands made upon them at home. We are often wearisome companions, difficult to deal with, peevish, morose, and perverse." He shook his head disapprovingly over the character of the world of learning, but his face smiled with genuine pleasure.

The end of the visit was hastened by the baby, who began to cry piteously in the next room.

"Are you going already?" said the Philosopher to Ilse; "this cannot be counted as a visit. You please me much, and you have true eyes; and I see that you have a kind disposition, and that is everything. All we want is, in the face a good mirror through which the images of life are reflected fully and purely, and in the heart an enduring flame which will communicate its warmth to others. Whoever has that will do well, even if it is her fate to be the wife as you are, of a sedentary student, and as is this poor mother of five screaming young ones."

Again he strode rapidly about, fetched an old hat from the corner and handed it to the wife of his colleague. Ilse laughed.

"Oh, I see. It is a gentleman's hat," said Professor Raschke; "perhaps it belongs to your husband."

"I also am provided with one," said the Professor.

"Then it must be my own after all," said Raschke; and jamming the hat on his head, he accompanied his guests to the carriage.

For some time Ilse sat in the carriage dumb with astonishment. "Now I have regained my courage, Felix; the professors are still less alarming than the students."