The Song Of Songs Part 16

You may let yourself be kissed as much as you like, but on no account kiss back.

You may let a gentleman call you by your first name in conversation, but if he does so in a letter it is an insult.

You may let a gentleman treat you to coffee and cake, but not to bread and b.u.t.ter.

You may let a strange man tread on your foot, but if he attempts to press your hand under the table you must get up.

And so on.

Lilly had absolutely no comprehension for this set of thoughts and desires. Hitherto man as a male had been a piece of life non-existent in bodily form, which came to her notice on occasions, but glided by like a stranger without holding her attention. She had solely loved the man of her dreams, the man of her novels, the man of her own creation. The thing that stared at her on the street, the thing that came to exchange books and found all sorts of little pretexts for entering into conversation with her, the thing that officiously held aside the wadded curtain of the church door as she entered, or played the amiable over a shop counter, this thing was a strange, annoying fact; it was stupid and brazen, a matter of unspeakable indifference, to think of which would be a waste of time and a degradation.

A girl's entire life, she now learned, was here simply for the sake of that gross and disgusting race; and a girl could concern herself about them from the moment she rose to the moment she fell asleep, without cherishing the thought of the one for whom she had been created as for work and faith and G.o.d.

Though Lilly knew she was infinitely above being influenced by the two girls' advice and example, she felt, in spite of herself, a small desire arising within her to find out what the nature of those creatures might be about whom such a fuss was made, whose approval brought pleasure, whose coldness meant annihilation.

She was beset by a tormenting fear of that dreadful, seething world outside there, of the dirt that was carried to her door every day anew, and of the disquieting curiosity with which she picked it up to examine it. For whether or no, her thoughts _would_ return to the gay pictures, painted in colors of poison, which the two sisters, growing ever more demoralized, unrolled before her eyes evening after evening.

It was a piece of good fortune that the hot friendship both at first bestowed upon her cooled off somewhat after a month or so.

The cause was the enigmatic shortage in the cash box, which occurred time and again, and came to be a permanent phenomenon. Lilly would spend hours calculating feverishly, entering and counting every cent, until finally there was no other conclusion to be reached than that some one had used the few moments of her absence to dip into the drawer where the box was kept.

In order to save herself--in case of discovery she would be accused of the theft--she once carried the key of the drawer away with her as if unintentionally, and did so repeatedly, until the girls' manner, which had grown increasingly estranged and scornful, a.s.sured her that she was on the right tack.

On one occasion they gave vent to their wrath and disillusionment.

Did _she_, stray dog that she was, think she was mistress of the place?

If need be, books and keys would be taken from her by force.

In mortal fright Lilly ran to the mother and threatened to leave that instant unless she was allowed to control affairs as before.

Mrs. Asmussen, who knew her scapegrace offspring through and through, took sides with Lilly, and the storm seemed to have blown over.

The girls took to entreaty and in reawakened intimacy gave Lilly new and comprehensive views into the depths of their soul life.

Did she think they cared a row of pins for the miserable little meringues they ate at Frangipani's? Not a bit of it. They were clever enough to know how to provide for the future. At any rate they couldn't stay with that old guzzler forever, especially since the place had turned out to be absolutely unproductive in regard to good matches. So for a long time they had been saving money industriously for another flight. It was no exaggeration to say they were starving themselves miserably. Lilly with her paltry desires could have no idea how many temptations they withstood when they sat at a table in the confectionery shop at suppertime, and had to look upon all sorts of glorious goodies without tasting them.

Lilly remained unmoved by their persuasive wiles. Their manner cooled off again, and they began to pa.s.s her by, tacitly showing their sense of injury.

Soon events occurred that fanned their enmity into a lively fire.

CHAPTER X

It was dusk of a wet November day. The spouts were streaming and an endless chain of grey drops glided down the iron rods of the porch railing and fell precipitously into the pool gleaming on the pavement below.

A miserable sort of sport to watch the game! But what better diversion had the day to offer?

Suddenly the front door opened, the library bell rang sharply, and in came a nimble little fellow, capering and stamping, and exhaling an aroma of Russia leather and Parma violets. His coat collar was turned up and his hat pulled far down. His close-cut blond hair shone like yellowish-white velvet.

He measured Lilly from between lids masterfully narrowed to a slit with a cursory and apparently disillusioned glance, threw out a strident "good evening," and examined the back part of the room, as if expecting some one to emerge from behind the bookcases and give him a special greeting.

Lilly asked what she could do for him.

"Oh, you are the young lady in charge of the circulating library?" he asked. The existence of such a young lady seemed to transport him into a kind of careless gaiety.

Lilly said she was.

"Splendid!" he replied. "Just splendid!" And a thousand little merry devils danced in his blinking, white-lashed eyes.

Lilly asked what book he wished.

"Be it known to you, most honored and erudite miss, I am not exactly familiar with German literature and the allied sciences, but ever since yesterday I have been possessed of a fabulous and downright soph.o.m.oric zeal for culture. If you would help me with your valuable--"

He came to a sudden halt, stuck a monocle in his eye, looked her up and down, first on the right side, then on the left, the way an intending purchaser scrutinises a long-legged horse, murmured something like "the devil," and asked to have the light turned on immediately.

Since it had actually grown so dark that the numbers on the backs of the books were illegible, Lilly saw no reason for refusing his request.

When she reached up in all her glory to raise the chimney from the hanging lamp, he uttered a second and more audible "the devil." And when she stood there before him, the light shining on her sidewise, with an uneasy, questioning look in her improbable eyes--those long-concealed "Lilly eyes"--he sank back on the customers' seat to show how utterly nonplussed he was, and folded his hands and implored her forgiveness.

Lilly felt a hot sense of insult rising in her. So low was she esteemed in her position that an aristocratic young man--the first who had strayed in to her in the course of one and a half years--did not deem it necessary to show her the most ordinary courtesy.

"If you do not wish to borrow a book, sir," she said, giving him a superior look, "please leave the place."

"What--what did you say?" he rejoined, outraged. "I borrow a book? _One_ book? One beggarly book? For every five minutes I am permitted to stay here I will take out a whole shelf of books, for all I care, a whole case of books--but with the proviso that I may return them to-morrow. I will immediately contract with the best express company in town to keep hauling the cases away and back again. But one moment--one moment. It seems to me I once heard that for every book taken from a circulating library you have to leave three marks deposit. Isn't that so?"

Lilly stared at him in blank astonishment and said it was so.

"Well, since I haven't such an amount of money in my possession just now, I must ask you to keep _me_ here as a deposit. So, in a measure, I yield myself up to you for imprisonment. Very vexatious for both parties, I'm sure. But what else is to be done in the circ.u.mstances?"

In spite of herself Lilly had to laugh.

"Oh, she's reconciled!" he cried triumphantly. "Her majesty is reconciled. And now let us speak to each other as decorous friends.

Observe me well. Do I look as if I read books? To be sure I have my favourites, Schlicht, Roda-Roda and Winterfeld, and others who purport to know the humour of soldiering life. But if I come here, it's not to get books. The thing goes deeper than that. I hope I may confide in you."

"If you think it necessary," stammered Lilly, whose eyes were fascinated by a gleaming chain peeping from under the sleeve of his tan overcoat.

She did not know men ever wore gold bracelets.

"Evenings I like to get into mufti--the rest of the time, you know, I wear uniform--but not for long any more--in a few weeks I depart this life, because--do you know what debts are? No? Then rejoice. Debts are the sour sediment in the lemonade of human existence, and the lemonade at that is none too sweet. But what was I going to say? Oh, yes--evenings I like to play Harun-al-Rashid and strive to win the favor of the populace by honouring the populace's more commendable daughters with a little conversation. Understand? So, in remoter districts, where high are the hedges and silent the new villas--so yesterday I--behind two young ladies--laughing over their shoulders and swinging their skirts, exactly the way well-bred girls are wont to do--"

"I beg your pardon, but I should like this talk to end," said Lilly, red with shame.

"Not at all," he said; "I knew at once you are a perfect lady, and have nothing to do with such ticklish matters. I am merely confessing in order to secure a little absolution from your purity."

This turn did Lilly's soul good, and she did not oppose him further.

"So the two young ladies were walking in front of me arm in arm. The moment I reached-them I slipped in between like a slice of sausage in a sandwich. They weren't a bit offish. They told me they owned a large circulating library and intended shortly to open an art shop in Berlin, and so on. But they didn't mention their address, and since--I admit it with shame--until a few moments ago I thought they had some good points, I am simply making the rounds of all the libraries in the directory.