The Song Of Songs Part 54

"That's probably where he lives," she thought, and felt a slight dread in the face of so much serene yet severe beauty.

Then she took heart, crossed the street, and made straight for the door with iron grill work, which was next to the carriage entrance and seemed to lead up to that awe-inspiring second story.

But the door was locked, and before ringing she peeped through the grating. She saw a dark staircase solemnly lined with cypress trees and laurel bushes. In the background at the head of the stairs was a window glowing blue and red and throwing rainbow colors on a white bust in front of it. Lilly recognized the bust, having seen it in the display windows of the art shops. It was Clytie, whom she had always loved because of her gentle melancholy.

As she looked upon all this her heart sank again. She seemed to herself totally unworthy to step into those formal, peaceful regions. So she descended the three door steps and entered the profaner carriage entrance, where several labourers in white overalls were busily engaged covering the bare brick walls with highly veined marble stucco.

Men were at work in the yard as well. The round cobble stones with which it had once been paved were lying in heaps, and the ground was being covered with an ornate mosaic, of a light grey broken by white swirls and circles, like the flooring in ancient churches.

At the back of the yard rose the bald brick side of the factory, which also was undergoing changes in accordance with the general beautifying scheme. Up to about the second story the wall was being set with yellow and blue tiles. They looked gay and festive, and upon the completion of the repairs the old smoky court would have the appearance of a decorated salon.

"They're doing things here in great style," thought Lilly, growing even more timid.

To her left in a corner of the court she saw a building to which not a drop of the varnish being used on the other parts of the establishment had been applied. It stood there with bare, dun-colored plastered walls.

Next to an extremely plain flight of iron steps was a metal plate inscribed "Office."

Lilly went up the iron steps and entered a badly lighted, dusty room divided in two by a wooden rail, on the farther side of which a half dozen young people were sitting at desks covered with spotted, threadbare felt. They all stared at her in astonishment. It did not occur to one of them to ask her what she wanted.

Evidently a person like herself had never before been seen in the place.

The group was turned to stone and did not regain animation until she drew her card from her gold brocade purse and silently laid it on the table. Then the six of them jumped up and tried to get possession of it. There came near being a row.

But one of them, a tall, straw-complexioned fellow, who seemed to have some authority, chased the others back to their seats with a few furtive nudges, and bowing and sc.r.a.ping, said to Lilly he would immediately go see whether Mr. Dehnicke--and with the card in his hand disappeared into a back room.

A few moments pa.s.sed. Lilly could hear subdued voices through the half-open door.

"Czepanek? Don't know her. Ask her what she wants. What does she look like?"

The answer, which lasted several seconds, seemed to have been satisfactory, for the clerk came out and without further ado opened the gate in the wooden railing and ushered Lilly into the back room.

At last _he_ stood before her.

Stocky, middle-sized--shorter than herself--with a tendency toward stoutness. A round, well-kept face, good, greyish blue eyes, which said little; an arched brow, light brown hair brushed back smooth from his temples, a short moustache turned up abruptly at each end, probably to proclaim the lieutenant. Remarkably small hands and ears. Everything about him breathed tidiness and scrupulousness, though it would not have mattered if he had been less well groomed.

He was taken aback at Lilly's entrance. His eyes grew round with polite astonishment.

The consciousness that she had not failed to make an impression emboldened her, and gave her a sense of security. It was not in vain that she had gone through Miss von Schwertfeger's schooling.

"I have come to you at the recommendation of a friend of both of us, who prepared you for this visit," she began, inwardly rejoiced to be able once again to play the _grande dame_.

A mirror hung opposite, and Lilly regarded with satisfaction the discreet wreath of violets about her lilac turban, and the violet-coloured tailor-made suit. Her image looking affably from the frame reminded her of a picture by some portrait painter of high life.

Mr. Dehnicke silently drew up a chair for her. An expectant distrust was to be detected in his eyes in place of the consternation of the first seconds. Evidently he did not dare to place her in the cla.s.s in which, to judge from her appearance, she belonged.

His head was set a bit obliquely on his neck, inclining to the left, as if he had recently had an attack of lumbago. This posture increased Lilly's impression that he suspected her.

She looked down at her brocade purse, and acted as if she could scarcely suppress a smile.

He became still more confused.

"May I ask," he stammered, "who that friend--? I don't recall." In perplexity he turned over the visiting card his clerk had brought him.

Lilly rebelled at having to utter her former lover's name, and so expose her shame to the man who lived behind those respectable porcelain flower pots.

"Is it possible," she asked hesitatingly, "that you do not recall having received a letter from a comrade in your regiment, in which he asks you to interest yourself in a lady who--"

Mr. Dehnicke jumped to his feet and reddened to the roots of his hair.

His eyes grew bright and round between his stretched lids and threatened to pop from their sockets.

"I beg pardon," he faltered. "You probably refer to a letter which I received nearly a year and a half ago from Lieutenant von Prell?"

"I do."

"My lady," he cried, completely upset. "If I had suspected that my lady--"

So much simple respect was depicted on his face that Lilly's consciousness of aristocracy was heightened quite a bit.

But so it could not remain.

"I call myself Lilly--Czepanek," she whispered, blushing in her turn, though delighting in the expression "call myself," which permitted the a.s.sumption that she had voluntarily chosen to use her maiden name.

Fright at the indelicacy of which he thought himself guilty was plainly to be read in his features.

"I beg pardon," he said, "I should have remembered that you must have gone through many difficulties." Then as if shot from a pistol: "Why didn't you come sooner? I waited and waited--a month--several months--then I took to looking for you--in vain. I even thought of going to a detective bureau, but I feared overstepping the bounds of reserve--"

Lilly nodded with a smile of appreciation.

"Unfortunately I did not dream of another name. So I gave up the hope of ever having the great pleasure--"

In the exuberance of his delight he seemed prepared to clasp her hand.

However, he proved himself sufficiently well bred to desist when he saw she did not respond.

Lilly now had the reins of the situation in her hands. She felt she was so saturated with the romance of suffering, so enveloped by the delicate aroma of aristocratic aloofness, that she might just have stepped out of one of Mrs. Asmussen's novels.

"I am grateful to you for your reproaches. I see I did not knock at your door in vain."

"I a.s.sure you," he replied, inclining his head still more to the left by way of emphasis, "I place myself at your service with all my powers, with everything I am and--" He paused. The word "have," which should naturally have followed, was more than he, the scrupulous business man, would allow to pa.s.s his lips so lightly.

"I will not make great demands on you, of course," Lilly replied airily, to put a little damper on his ardour. "I simply do not want to be without someone to advise me as to a way of earning my livelihood, and since--Mr. von Prell"--at last the name came out--"said I might place perfect confidence in you--"

"You may rely upon me as upon Mr. von Prell himself."

"That's not saying a great deal," flashed through her head, but she kept from revealing her thought by so much as a smile.

"By the way, what do you hear from him?" he asked.

Lilly blushed. If she admitted his silence, she laid herself bare, irremediably. So, not to appear forsaken and cast aside, she said: