The Song Of Songs Part 17

Besides the well-known bookstores there are only three. I investigated the other two, and now that I know the third, the art shop proprietresses may go to the devil for all I care."

A feeling of scorn and mischievous delight arose in Lilly. She gave a short laugh, but took good care not to disclose the existence of the Asmussen girls.

To prove to her that in the presence of her majesty all desire for an adventure ended, he presented himself formally: "Von Prell, future ex-lieutenant."

Observing her questioning look he continued:

"As I delicately indicated, my days in the regiment are numbered."

Lilly timidly inquired whether an officer's life no longer pleased him.

"Until now I knew of no sort of life that would _not_ have pleased me."

Wanton spirits shot little gleams from his small grey eyes. "But the paternal riches have taken wing, and my wages as army serf will just about buy radishes, and even radishes get expensive around Christmas time. So the best thing for me to do is to buy an old herring keg and let myself be salted and packed. If you should happen to know of one to be had cheap, I give the best prices."

Lilly frankly laughed a joyous laugh. He joined in, holding his hands to his hips and emitting a thin, falsetto tehee, which, though scarcely audible, shook his slim, sinewy body as with a storm of merriment.

They now sat opposite each other like two good friends, with the counter between. Lilly wished the hour would never end.

A maid entered to exchange a volume of Flygare-Carlen for her mistress.

He una.s.sumingly disposed himself for a stay, examined the backs of several books, and acted altogether as if he were at home. When the maid left he pulled the door open obsequiously and bowed and sc.r.a.ped as she pa.s.sed through.

Lilly grew more and more hilarious and restrained her laughter with difficulty.

"Before the next customer comes you must go," she said, "else they'll begin to think something."

"Why?" he asked. "The customers change."

But Lilly insisted, whereupon he took to pleading.

"Listen," he said. "I am known as a man utterly devoid of moral fibre.

Do _you_ be my stay in this mundane existence--at least until the door opens again. While I'm sitting here I can commit no follies, and that must convey some consolation to your charitable heart."

It was agreed, therefore, that he might keep his place until the next time the bell rang. He leaned back in his chair comfortably and scanned Lilly with the tender emotions of unlimited ownership.

"All earthly ills flow from garrulousness," he began. "If Columbus had just kept the discovery of America to himself n.o.body would have made it disagreeable for him. I will be wilier. I will consider my discovery as a family secret between you and me. What a feast for the fellows! Let them keep to the moths that fly at twilight, like the two prospective art-shop proprietresses, to whom I owe the good fortune of your acquaintance."

Lilly had completely forgotten the sisters. It was about time for them to be coming home. Suppose they were suddenly to open the door!

The bell rang. No, it wasn't they. It was a spinster, who daily devoured several volumes of love affairs, and came every evening for fresh fodder.

The blithe lieutenant, remembering the compact, shot up out of his chair. His demeanour stiffened into business-like coolness.

"If you please," he tw.a.n.ged, "will you kindly let me have the latest work by--by--" Evidently no German author occurred to him. After racking his brain the delivering name came, "by Gerstacker."

Lilly brought him the "latest work," which bore the date 1849. He deposited the requisite three marks, and took leave with too sweeping a bow, while the little imps frolicked between his silver-white lids.

Soon after the sisters came home, cast a suspicious look at Lilly's flaming cheeks, and pa.s.sed by without greeting her.

The next day went after the fashion of every other, but something troubled Lilly, something like Christmas expectations, a premonitory restlessness, which pressed on to a new life.

And behold! At the same time as the day before the door opened, and in stepped two elegant young men, who emitted a strident "good evening."

Their manner was both a bit a.s.sured and a bit abashed as they asked for "an interesting book," while measuring Lilly with the stare of a connoisseur.

She felt her limbs grow heavy and rigid, as always when conscious of being observed and admired. But she maintained her dignity, and when the young gentlemen after selecting their trash (which they scarcely glanced at) wanted to start up a bantering conversation, she tossed her head and withdrew behind the bookcase L to N, which sheltered her when she sat at the window-sill making her entries and calculations.

The gentlemen took whispered counsel with each other, said a low "good-by," and beat a retreat.

So her jolly friend had betrayed her after all!

From now on Mrs. Asmussen's poor little hole of a library swarmed with slim young men of fashion, who were driven by an insatiable desire for reading to exchange one musty old volume for another.

Only a few dared come in uniform, but they did not withhold their names, and the last page of the customers' book looked as if extracted from an Almanac de Gotha.

Some wrapped themselves in a coat of business-like correctness, others came with careless a.s.surance of victory. One man began to make love on the spot, and another even had the audacity to bandy gross language over the counter. The navest one condescendingly inquired when within the next few days he might expect a visit from her.

Lilly soon came to see that these attentions neither honoured nor gave hurt. She chatted freely with those who were courteous, refrained from replying to those who were impertinent, and the instant a conversation threatened to become lengthy she disappeared behind case L to N.

Within a few days the sisters had discovered the aristocratic visitors.

Their rage knew no bounds. Decency was thrown to the winds. Lilly was not spared a single insult, a single abuse. Vile epithets such as she had never heard poured over her in a dirty stream. The girls demanded that she cede her place at the counter to them. She refused point blank, whereupon they took to maltreating her.

On occasions of greatest need Mrs. Asmussen came to her a.s.sistance. The broom rained blows on the white nightgowns of the jealous furies, and drove them into the back room, where the battle was drowned in rivers of tears.

Hostilities continued. In case business exigencies necessitated some self-restraint during the day while customers were present, feelings were given all the freer play in the morning and evening.

Lilly's life became a veritable h.e.l.l.

A crust of hate and bitterness laid itself over her soul. Partly in fright, partly in satisfaction she felt herself growing harder and sharper. It was only at night that she melted, when she buried her burning head in the pillows and gave vent to her misery in silent weeping.

The merry friend with the white lashes, who had caused the entire catastrophe, did not put in appearance for about two weeks. He came in dragging his legs a little, and his eyes were swollen and bleared.

"This flower," he said, undoing the tissue paper of the package in his hand, "is the picotee, which keeps fresh five or six days longer than any parting pangs."

At the sight of him Lilly felt a little comforting joy light up within her. She took the bouquet as a matter of course, and reproached him for not having kept his mouth shut.

"I told you," he replied imperturbably, "that I am a man utterly devoid of moral fibre."

Then he informed her that the regiment had given him a farewell dinner for good and all, and now there was nothing more urgent for him to do than secure pa.s.sage for somewhere--if he only knew where.

"But we won't scratch our heads about _that_," he continued. "Brilliant people such as you and I have brilliant careers. The path of my life leads by still waters of cool champagne, and is paved with little meat patties. That's kismet. No use struggling against it. Even if it finally leads to a sugar-cane plantation in Louisiana, it's all the same to me.

One always comes across something new, and that's the main thing. For the present the old man, who's taken a tremendous liking to me, wants me to run about his estate as Fritz Triddelfitz."

He laughed his high-pitched, almost inaudible laugh, which shook him like a storm.

Lilly wanted to know who the "old man" was.

That a person should have to ask this seemed inconceivable to him.

"Have you the least idea of life, if you don't know who the old man is?