The Lost Manuscript Part 51

Ilse had taken her father's lessons to heart; she lived in the present, and avoided distracting thoughts. Her husband took pains to keep from her anything that could disturb her repose of mind, and the intellectual diet which he now gave her did her good. When he again saw her in society in all her health and strength, with color in her cheeks and a cheerful expression in her countenance, he felt it his duty for ever to preserve this soul from the intrusion of conflicting ideas; and he was pleased that, by frequent intercourse with various kinds of men, and by the light bonds of a genial society, she began to feel at home in his circle. It delighted him, too, to find that her ingenuous nature was appreciated; and she was not only treated with distinction by the men, but was also a favorite with the ladies.

Ilse would not, however, allow her private conclave--as she called the hours during which she received her husband's instruction--to be disturbed; she adhered to it with rigid strictness; and if a day was missed, the lost time had to be made up on the following one. But even these lessons took a different course. The Professor now read to her small extracts from old writers, who portrayed, in prose and verse, the attractive beauty of the life of the ancients; her innocent mind entered into the cheerful enjoyment of this strange world, and the impressions which she received agreed perfectly with the way in which she now regulated her own life. The Professor explained to her some of the poems of the Greek anthology and of Theocritus, and a few of the Roman lyrics; and, by way of comparison, he read to her the poems of the great German who, in a remarkable way, had been able to unite Greek beauty with German feeling.

At her reception, Ilse showed all the dignity of her position as the Rector's wife; every room was opened; the apartments were decorated and brilliantly illuminated; the heads of the University and city, with their wives, made their appearance in numbers; and the Prince and his Chamberlain did not fail to be present. Laura a.s.sisted gracefully in doing the honors, and quietly gave directions to the servants; cake and wine were pa.s.sed around; the guests made themselves very agreeable, and separated in the highest spirits. The great evening had pa.s.sed off happily; the Doctor and Laura had left; Ilse gave her last injunctions to Gabriel, and pa.s.sed through the rooms once more, with the glad feeling that she had done honor to Felix and herself. She came into her dressing room, and glanced into the mirror.

"You need not examine yourself critically," said the husband, "everything was beautiful; but the most beautiful of all was the Rector's wife."

"Damon, my shepherd," replied Ilse, "you are blinded. It is not the first time you have said this, but I like to hear it; you may still tell it often to me. But Felix," she continued, as she unloosened her hair, "there is something inspiring about such a society even where people do nothing but talk. One does not carry away much of it, but still there is a pleasure in being among them; they are all so courteous and endeavor to appear to the best advantage, and each tries to please the other."

"They do not all succeed in giving a fair idea of what they are on such occasions, least of all we book-worms," replied Felix. "But there is no doubt these gatherings give a certain similarity of language and manner, and, finally, also of ideas to persons who live in the same circle. This is very necessary, for even those who live together often differ as much in their thoughts and feelings as if they had been born in different centuries. How did you like the Chamberlain?"

Ilse shook her head. "He is the most courteous and lively of all, and knows how to say something civil to every one; but one cannot trust him, for, as with an eel, one has no hold on him, and can never for a moment look into his heart. I prefer our Prince with his stiff manner.

He talked to me about his sister to-day; she must be very clever and charming. To which of your centuries does he belong?"

"To the middle of the last," replied, her husband, laughing; "he is a full century earlier than we are, of the period when men were divided into two cla.s.ses--those who were fit to be received at Court, and serfs. But if you examine those about us, you will discover even greater disparities. There is our Gabriel, who in his prejudices and his poetry belongs to an age three centuries earlier than the present.

His ways of thinking remind one of the time in which the great Reformers first educated our people to think. On the other hand, the hostile neighbors are, in many points of view, the representatives of two opposing tendencies which ran parallel to each other towards the end of the last century--in our house, obstinate rationalism; in the old people over there, a weak sentimentality."

"And what time do I belong to?" asked Ilse, placing herself before her husband.

"You are my dear wife," he exclaimed, trying to draw her towards him.

"I will tell you," continued Ilse, eluding him: "in your opinion, I belong to a former age, and once that made me more unhappy than I can express. But I no longer care about it. For when I can compel you to kiss my hand as often as I desire it"--the Professor was very willing--"when I see that it requires no persuasion to induce you to kiss me on the lips--it is not necessary that you should try it now,--I believe you. Further, when I observe that the learned gentleman is not disinclined to hand my slippers to me, and perhaps even my dressing gown--I do not wish to give you trouble now, but unhook my ear-rings and open the jewel-box,--and when I, besides, observe that you are anxious to please me, that at my wish you took the wife of the Consistorial Councillor to dinner, whom you could not bear, and that you have bought me this beautiful dress, although you understand nothing about buying; when I, further, see that Magnificus is quite under my sway, that I have the keys of the pantry, and even manage the accounts; and, lastly, when I bear in mind that you, good bookworm, think me, your wife Ilse, worthy of a little discussion together with your Greeks and Romans, and that it is a pleasure to you when I understand a little of your learned writings--I come to the conclusion that you belong entirely to me, you and your century, and that it is quite indifferent to me in what period of the world's history my spirit originated. Then when I, the relic of a distant century, pinch your ear, as I do now, the great master of the present and future, and his philosophizing on the different natures of men, become simply ludicrous. Now that I have held this discourse, can you sleep quietly?"

"That would be difficult," replied the Professor, "whilst the learned housewife is fluttering about the bed, holding discourses in her dressing-gown which are more lengthy than those of a Roman philosopher, and whilst she rattles the doors of the cupboards and wanders about the room."

"My tyrant requires his coffee early in the morning, so it must be given out now, and I cannot sleep if I have not all the keys near me."

"I see nothing will be of any use." said the Professor, "but a serious exorcism."

"I must see whether there are any lights burning in the rooms." But immediately afterwards she knelt down by the bed, and threw her arms round his neck. "Everything is so charming in the world, Felix,"

exclaimed she; "let us humbly pray that our happiness may last."

Yes, you are happy. Ilse; but, as your father said, you have to thank your prudence for it, not your courage.

When Ilse wrote to her father, to describe how the great evening party had pa.s.sed off, she did not forget to add that her future Sovereign had been among the guests, and that she had had much intelligent conversation with him. Her father did not appear to attach much value to this last communication, for he answered, rather irritated, "If you are so influential an adviser, exert yourself to obtain a decision for us in regard to the highway. The affair has been before the magistrates for ten years; it is a shame that we should be so cut off from all the world. The gray has broken his leg. Our estate would be worth ten thousand dollars more if the Government were not so dilatory."

Ilse read the letter to her husband, and said, "We can tell the Prince about the road; he can arrange it with his father."

Her husband laughed. "I will not undertake this commission: it does not appear to me as if the Prince would have great influence with the Government."

"We will see about that," replied Ilse, gaily; "at the next opportunity I shall speak to him about it."

This opportunity soon occurred. The Consistorial Councillor, who was now Theological Dean, had a tea-party. It was a distinguished and dignified a.s.sembly, but not agreeable to Ilse; she had long mistrusted the piety of the Dean, for beneath the gown of the bland gentleman she clearly saw a fox's tail peeping out; in the speeches of the Dean's wife there was an unpleasant mixture of honey and gall. The rooms were small and hot, and the guests seemed bored; but the Hereditary Prince and his Chamberlain had promised to come. As he entered, the master of the house and some of the guests who were acquainted with the customs of the Court endeavored to form a line for his reception; but all their attempts were vain, from the heedlessness or obstinacy of most of the company. The Prince, led by the Dean, had to make his way through the groups up to the mistress of the house. His eyes turned from her sharp features and wandered about to where Ilse stood, like a being from another planet; she looked quite majestic; her ribbon head-dress sat like a coronet on her wavy hair, which in great abundance almost surrounded her head. The Prince looked shyly up to her, and could scarcely find proper words with which to accost her. When, after a short greeting, he again turned to the rest of the company. Ilse was displeased; she had expected more attention from their intimacy. She did not consider that his position in society was not that of a private man, and that he had to fulfill his princely duties before he could go about like others. Whilst with inward disgust he did what his position required of him, going slowly round, he went first to Ilse's husband, then to the other dignitaries; had some presented to him, and asked the questions that are considered right in these cases; but he waited impatiently for the time when fate would allow him to have a little conversation with his countrywoman. But he did his duty bravely; the Professor of History expressed his pleasure that some old chronicles of his country would be published, and endeavored, half-talking and half-teaching, to impress him with their importance. Meanwhile the Prince thought that the Rector's wife would, at least, sit at his left hand, the Chamberlain having pointed out to him that the Dean's wife might be at his right.

The affair was doubtful. The Dean's wife was certainly the hostess, but the evening had a certain official University tone about it, and Ilse was undoubtedly ent.i.tled to precedence among the professors' wives.

Nevertheless, all question ceased to exist when the fact was considered that the Dean, on account of numerous presentations of theological works, and many letters of admiring homage, had been made by the reigning sovereign, Knight Commander of his order. He had been so exalted by this, as the Chamberlain explained, that the difference of dignity between the Magnificus and Dean was more than compensated, and the Dean's wife had therefore the first place. The Chamberlain acknowledged that in reality it was a matter of no consequence how people were seated here, for there could be no question of any right of rank in this society. But it would be more becoming for the Prince not to neglect all distinctions.

At his left, at all events, the Prince hoped to have Ilse. But even this hope was frustrated by the artfulness of the Dean's wife. For there was amongst the company a Colonel's wife; they were people of old family, but recently come to the place. The lady of the house lost no time in taking the Colonel's wife up to the Chamberlain, and on meeting, it turned out that they had common relations. By this the whole arrangement of rank at supper was disturbed. The lady claimed her right to be presented. The Chamberlain took her to the Prince, who cleverly antic.i.p.ated the former's intention, and expressed a wish to make the lady's acquaintance.

"She allows herself to be presented to a student!" said little Mrs.

Gunther, astonished.

"That is a breach of social rights, which touches the dignity of woman," said Mrs. Struvelius, displeased.

"But she did it very nicely," said Ilse; "her manner with him pleases me."

The ladies did not know that the object of their remarks was, in this moment of apparent humiliation, enjoying the triumph of a higher position. The Prince, the Colonel's wife, and the Chamberlain for a short time formed a group, from which the light of the evening radiated, all three with the proud consciousness that they were united in a bond of fellowship among strangers.

The consequence of this presentation was that the Colonel's wife sat at the left of the Prince, and Ilse between two Deans opposite to him. It did not make it easier for the Prince to preserve his princely dignity when every time he looked up, he saw the eyes and curls of his countrywoman opposite to him. The evening pa.s.sed slowly for him, and it was not till the party was breaking up that he had an opportunity of speaking to Ilse without restraint.

"Just wait," thought Ilse; "you shall not escape the road."

"Have you heard from your father?" inquired the Prince, a question by which he frequently began the conversation.

"My news is not good," replied Ilse; "only think, your Highness, one of our horses has broken his leg. It was a grey which we raised ourselves, a good gentle creature, which I have often ridden, though my father did not much like my doing so. Then I must tell your Highness, the road that leads to the great market-town, to which my father every year sends his grain, is terribly bad, and the Government does nothing to improve it. For ten years the matter has been agitated, but nothing comes of it. If your Highness could help to obtain a good road for us, I beg of you to do so; it will be a benefit to the whole district."

The Prince looked at her kindly, and said, with embarra.s.sment:

"It is an affair of the Government, I believe my father knows nothing of it."

"I am convinced of that," replied Ilse; "the gentlemen of the Government have always reasons for doing nothing; they understand how to make difficulties, and pretend they have no money."

The Chamberlain approached, and as the conversation had taken an uncomfortable political turn, the Prince quickly retreated, bowing and smiling, with these words:

"Let us hope for the best."

Ilse, on going home, said to her husband:

"Felix, I spoke to him about the road; he is a good youth, but in society he uses only formal speeches."

Fortune would have it that some weeks after, the State Councillor, who held the chief administrative office at Rossau, came to the University, visited the Chamberlain, and was introduced by him to the Prince. He was invited to dinner, and the Prince showed uncommon interest in the condition of the district in question; he inquired about the estates in the neighborhood and their proprietors; and, at last, when standing alone by the window with the Councillor, drinking his coffee, said:

"How is it that there is no good road in the district? Could not you do something about it?"

The official duly enumerated the difficulties. At last the Prince replied:

"Yes, I know there are plenty of reasons; but I shall be obliged to you if you will give yourself the trouble of taking the matter in hand."

Much impressed with these words, the Rossau official returned home. He revolved them in his troubled mind for three days, and the more he thought of them the more important they seemed; his own future might depend upon the result. At last he came to the conclusion that an extraordinary exertion was necessary; he therefore went at once to the seat of Government and laid the whole case, and a large bundle of dusty records concerning the road, before the minister. The minister thanked him for his communication, and was also of opinion that this was an incident which it would be prudent to make known to his Most Serene Highness. When he had concluded his report on state affairs, he mentioned that in the district of Rossau complaints had been made of the bad condition of the roads, and that a strong desire had been expressed for a new road, and the Hereditary Prince had shown a lively interest in the matter. The Prince rose hastily from his seat.

"The Hereditary Prince? What does that mean? It is very satisfactory to me to find that my son takes an interest in the condition of the country," he added. "I will take the affair into consideration."

The same day a letter was written by the Prince himself to the Chamberlain, saying:

"How comes the Hereditary Prince to take an interest in the building of a new road at Rossau? I desire further information."