Villa Eden Part 107

The Superior was rich in experience, while the Professorin depended almost entirely on the precepts and opinions of her departed husband; and now that she took the att.i.tude of a scholar, and listened gratefully, gentler thoughts rose within the Superior, who had felt that she had been somewhat harsh towards the excellent woman; and in this mood, she imparted some things that she really meant to hold back.

She told Frau Dournay that, at first, Manna's position in the convent had been a very hard one, for a strange thing had happened. Her entrance into the convent seemed to bring about a revolution. Two Americans from the best families were then there, and they were not willing to sit at the same table with the Creole, for such Manna seemed; they told their fellow-pupils that, in their native country, such half-bloods always travelled in separate cars on the railroads, and, even in church, had places set apart for them. And as most of the children were from n.o.ble German families, they united in a protest against Manna's presence, without her knowing anything of it herself.

While she slept, three of the pupils had examined her nails, in the presence of a nun, and as no black spots were found on them, it was proved that both parents were of pure blood. Manna was tolerated, and soon succeeded in winning the blue ribbon by her quick mind and great industry.

The Professorin held back the words which rose to her lips, for she was resolved to keep quiet and arouse no discussion; but her lips trembled as she longed to tell the Superior that it was her duty to have shown the children, by precept and example, that there can be no distinction of blood before G.o.d, and that such exclusiveness was impious and barbarous.

Frau Dournay had to exercise still more self-control when the Superior asked her to be kind enough to fold her hands when grace was said at dinner. The color flushed into her face, as she listened, and answered,--

"My husband is gone to his eternal home, and I know that when he stands before the judgment-seat the Holy Spirit will say to him: Thou hast lived according to the purest convictions of thy soul; thou hast honestly examined thyself, and hast attempted and done only what thou couldst do in all sincerity. At our table, we had no formal prayer, but before we sat down to eat and drink, each of us spent a minute in silent self-communion, and in the thought of what it really is to renew our existence from the Fountain of life; and our meal was consecrated by pure and good thoughts."

"Well, well, I did not mean to wound you," said the Superior. "I heard with sympathy that you had lost your husband, for whose sake you sacrificed yourself so n.o.bly and gladly."

"I was happy with my husband," replied the Professorin; "our love grew stronger every day. But love for a lover or a husband is always dwelt on; there is another kind of love, which, though very different, is wonderfully fresh and n.o.ble, and I think I know it. Forgive me for saying it, but I mean that it seems as if love only rightly begins when one has a high-minded, excellent son."

"I am glad that you are so happy; but tell me sincerely whether you have not found that of ten married women, nine, at least, are unhappy."

The Professorin was silent, and the Superior continued,--

"Your silence is a.s.sent, and now look at the great difference; among a hundred nuns you find scarcely one unhappy one."

Frau Dournay was still silent; she did not wish to debate this a.s.sertion: she was a guest, and would not try to convert or correct; but the Superior seemed to try to draw her out as she asked,--

"Do you know a more unhappy position than that of a girl who knows herself, and whom others know, to be the heiress of millions? Is she to believe in the love of frail human creatures? Is she to believe that she is wooed for her own sake? There is nothing for her, but to give herself and her wealth into the hands of the Eternal. This I say to you--I know not what commission you have, and even if you have none, you can report it. We do not try to gain Manna and her future wealth, we insist that she shall go back into the world, and return to us only on her own free decision. There is neither compulsion nor intimidation on our part, but it is our duty to protect those who prefer the imperishable to the perishable, wherever they may be. Now you know all, and we will say no more on the subject."

The Superior left her, and Frau Dournay walked out alone upon the island. It seemed to her that it would be a bold act, one of unjustifiable rashness indeed, to take this child by force, even the force of affection, from this sphere where she lived at peace and wished to end her life. She stood on the sh.o.r.e, and almost without knowing why, allowed herself to be taken across to the main-land, where she was not a little astonished to find Herr Sonnenkamp and Herr von Pranken, taking wine together, under the shady lindens of the inn.

Pranken was dressed so strangely that she thought she was mistaken, and she was about to turn back; but she heard her name called, and approached the two men in the garden.

Sonnenkamp was in high spirits, declaring himself very fortunate to have met his friend Pranken here; he considered it a fine thing that the Baron had changed himself into a husbandman, hinting that he himself had once been something of the kind; then he said,--

"We have no secrets from our friend, will Manna go home with us, Frau Professorin?"

The Professorin replied that not a word had been said on the subject, and that it seemed hardly to be wished; it would be well to let Manna complete her time at the convent, and certainly to refrain from all compulsion.

Pranken agreed very emphatically, but Sonnenkamp was much put out; it seemed to him dreadful that his daughter should be living here in the midst of a crowd of other girls, when a free and happy life was waiting for her.

The noon-day bell rang from the Convent, and Frau Dournay said she must go back. Sonnenkamp accompanied her to the sh.o.r.e, and there said in a low voice:--

"Do not trouble yourself about Pranken. We will leave my daughter free in every respect."

The Professorin returned to the island; the children were already at table when she entered the dining-room; she stood with folded hands behind her chair for a few moments before seating herself. When dinner was over, and thanks had been returned, the Superior said to Manna,--

"Now go with the friend of your family."

Frau Dournay and Manna walked towards the shady grove on the upper end of the island; and Heimchen, who was quite confiding towards the Professorin, went with them; but she was quite willing to sit down with a book, under a tree, and wait till they came back for her.

"But you must not take Manna away with you," cried the child from her low seat; they both started, for the child had given utterance, from an instinctive feeling, to the fear of one and the hope of the other.

CHAPTER IV.

THE IRON MUST ENTER THINE OWN SOUL.

For a long time neither uttered a word; at last the Professorin said,--

"You seem to be called to a higher life, from having been obliged in early youth to suffer so hard an experience, and to feel deeply the discord among men."

"I? How?" asked Manna. "What do you know?" She trembled.

"I know," answered the Professorin, "that you have suffered under that cruel burden which weighs upon your great and n.o.ble father-land."

"My father-land? I? Speak more plainly."

"It pains me that I tear open a wound which is scarred over, but this scar is a mark of honor for you, and it is not your fault, my child, that you are set in the midst of this life-struggle."

"I?"

"Yes."

"How? Tell me all; what do you know?"

"I mean that it should elevate you to have been obliged to bear humiliation and bitterness in your own person; it gives you a loftier consecration."

"Tell me plainly what you mean."

With an altered tone, like the hiss of a serpent. Manna spoke sharply and angrily; her gentle eyes sparkled restlessly.

"Heaven knows," said the Professorin, "I would not wound you; no, protecting and blessing you, would I lay my hand upon you."

She tried to place her hand on Manna's head, but the girl shrank back and cried:--

"Tell me distinctly, who knows it? What do you know? Pray speak."

"I know nothing, except that you had to suffer severely on your entrance into the convent; that two American girls took you for a half-blood, and would not a.s.sociate with you."

"Yes, yes, that's it! Now I know why they examined my nails, and Anna Sotway stood by, Oh, it's well! it's well! I thank thee, holy G.o.d, that thou hast suffered me to experience this. In myself, in my own person, I was to feel the suffering that a slave feels in being examined! Why did they not open my veins? I thank thee, O G.o.d! But why dost thou suffer them to worship thee, and then to scorn thee in thy creatures?

Then it was not because I tried to be reverent and obedient, no, but because I was of pure blood, that I was tolerated here! Pah!"

It was a different being who spoke these words, and cried aloud in the wood:--

"Ye trees, why does each of you grow after its kind, and blossom and grow green and flourish, warmed by the same sun, and with the birds singing in your branches? Alas! alas! where am I?"

"In the right path," answered the Professorin. Manna gazed at her as if she were a spirit, and she continued:--

"A pure spirit is speaking again through you, my child; you have spoken truth. When Lessing said, 'I would not have all trees covered with the same bark,' he had no presentiment that his spirit would manifest itself anew here in the cloister, in a child just waking to life. His pure and holy spirit is between us now, my child, and I think Lessing would say: Forgive them; they will learn that G.o.d alone is constant, while the races of men are only the ever-varying, ever-returning figures of a dream."