Decorated Heading.CHAPTER II.LEBENDE BILDER.Decorated First LetterTendays later, Sara, sitting one morning in her atelier, heard a knock at her door, and answered abstractedly ‘Herein!’Looking up to see who might be her visitor, she saw a little lady in widow’s weeds.‘Frau Goldmark!’ she exclaimed, rising in astonishment. Frau Goldmark was the widow of that young artist of promise, of whose sudden death Wilhelmi had informed her. Sara had heard constant talk of her for the last few days, to which talk she had listened in a vague, unheeding way. Her acquaintance with her was very slight, and had never beforegone so far as an exchange of visits, and she was proportionately surprised to see her now, and under the existing circumstances, in her atelier.‘Yes,liebeMiss Ford, it is I. And you may well look astonished, but do only hear me.’‘Come into my sitting-room, then, Frau Goldmark, and tell me what I can do for you,’ said Sara, leading the way to where Avice was seated with a book in the parlour.Frau Goldmark was a slight, pretty, little woman, with round, important, excited-looking eyes, and a general aspect which did not altogether charm Miss Ford, who formed indeed, in appearance, and manner, and everything else, a startling contrast to her visitor. Sara had heard vague rumours which gave Frau Goldmark the name of a gossip, and she had never felt any violent desire to make her acquaintance; but her recent heavy loss, her widowhood, and the inevitable hardstruggle which lay before her, all combined to make Sara lay aside all considerations save those of kindness. She offered Frau Goldmark a seat, and waited to hear on what errand she had come.‘I have come to ask a favour,mein Fräulein, an immense one;ein unerhörtes,’ she began.‘Indeed! I wonder how I can serve you?’ asked Sara, in her most gracious manner.Frau Goldmark looked at her keenly, despite her excitement, and found time for the reflection, ‘She certainly is as beautiful as all these men say, and if I can only get her to do it—I will ask for both the scenes while I am about it.’‘You are aware, dear Miss Ford, of the most lamented death of my dear good husband,’ said Frau Goldmark, with brimming eyes and a trembling lip.‘Yes, indeed! I was most truly grieved to hear of it. We must all lament it—you that you have lost a good husband, and we artists that abrother of such promise is lost to us.’‘You speak most beautifully, Fräulein. It has been a sore blow to us. I and my babes are left almost penniless. I shall have to work now to find bread for them, and thanks to the goodness of my friends, I believe it will be made easy for me.’‘Whatcanshe want?’ Sara was beginning to think, when Frau Goldmark again took up her parable with great animation, saying:‘The artists, my husband’s friends, have not forsaken me in my distress. Herr Professor Wilhelmi has behaved to me like a father.’‘He is goodness and generosity itself, I know,’ replied Sara, her full contralto tones in strong contrast with the high-pitched notes of Frau Goldmark’s voice. She had that great defect, common to so very many of her countrywomen, a high, harsh, shrill voice.‘He asked me what he could do for me, and I related my plan to him,which he approved of. I said that if I had but a little capital I could earn a living for myself and my children. I would open a photographic atelier. My father was a photographer, and I am perfectly acquainted with everything belonging to the art.’ Sara suppressed a smile—this from an artist’s wife. ‘A very little practice, and I should succeed admirably. The money to start with remained the only difficulty.’‘I see,’ said Sara, wondering more than ever what she could be supposed to have to do with it.‘Perhaps you have heard, Fräulein, that Professor Wilhelmi, and some other gentlemen and ladies, have decided, out of their respect and love for my husband’s memory, to give an entertainment on my behalf oftableaux vivants, for which you know they are so celebrated here. They are to be given in theMalkastenClub, or, if that is not large enough, in theRittersaalof the Tonhalle.They think by this means that they can realise the sum necessary. Oh, Fräulein Ford, Ibegyou to consent!’‘Consent—to what, my dear Frau Goldmark?’ she asked, in bewilderment.‘If you will take a part in the two principal pictures, the success is assured of the whole entertainment,’ was her breathless reply, while Frau Goldmark half rose from her chair and held out her hands towards Sara,flehend, as she herself would have said, in a theatrical manner.‘I—oh, I am afraid it is impossible!’ said Sara, hastily.‘Ah, do not say so, Miss Ford! Think what it means to me. There is no one else here who can do it as you would do it. The Herr Professor quite agreed with me. He gave me this note to bring to you.’Saying which, she suddenly pulled a little note from the bosom of her dress, and gave it to Sara, who, astonished at the whole affair, read, in Wilhelmi’s hand:‘Do, if you possibly can, give your consent to Frau Goldmark’s request, it is for a good cause; and, if my approval is anything to you, you have it to the full.‘Wilhelmi.’Here Avice, who had been listening intently, and who had just realised what it was all about, chimed in:‘Oh, do, Sara!—do!’‘Thank you,mein Fräulein, for taking my side,’ exclaimed Frau Goldmark, quickly.‘What are the pictures you wish me to take part in?’ asked Sara. ‘Have you decided upon them?’‘Natürlich, mein Fräulein.They are the two principal ones—a scene from Kleist’sHermannsschlacht, after the celebrated picture in the public gallery, with you for Thusnelda, and Herr Max Helmuth, Fräulein Wilhelmi’sBräutigam, as Hermann; and the last picture of my blessedMann;hisJa, oder Nein, which is still hanging unsold in the Exhibition.’Sara was silent, pondering. She knew both the pictures. Frau Goldmark proceeded:‘Professor Wilhelmi bade me come to you myself, for he said you would do that for the poor and afflicted which you would not for the prosperous and happy.’‘Are you sure that everyone wishes it?’ asked Miss Ford.‘As certain as I am that I am here,’ was the emphatic reply, ‘Denken sie nur, Fräulein!When the scheme was first proposed Amalia Waldschmidt vowed she would have the part of the lady in my husband’s picture—she, the stupid, heavy—but pardon! I ought to be grateful to all; only the Herr Professor quite agreed with me that she was the last person to take such a part. She has noGeist, noGefühl. How can she give to the picture the expression it requires? But she made a point of taking that part; they say, because she is so anxious toact with Ludwig Maas, who takes the part of the bold but poor lover.’ Seeing a strong expression of distaste and disapproval upon Miss Ford’s face, Frau Goldmark went on quickly:‘And you know,liebstes Fräulein, her father is a man whom we dare not offend, anddieAmalia rules him with a rod of iron.’Sara bowed assent to this proposition. It was evident that to the excited little widow this great entertainment formed the representative event of the modern world.‘Imagine!’ she went on, ‘Amalia is suddenly taken ill withscharlach-fieber—scarlet fever you call it. Yes, it is so; and it is providential. Naturally she cannot act the part, nor even appear at thelebende Bilder, for whichGott sei dank! though I know it is very wrong of me to say so. And I hope she will have the fever mildly and make a speedy recovery; but ah, I am glad she comes not; and I doprayof you, dear Miss Ford, to take the part, and also that ofThusnelda. I shall bless you all my life if you only will.’‘I will take the parts, Frau Goldmark, and will do my best to act them well,’ said Sara, composedly, anxious to put an end to the widow’s exaggerated prayers and protestations. Her consent was received with a perfect whirlwind of thanks and blessings and expressions of joy, which she cut short by saying:‘But I beg you will not say anything comparing me with Fräulein Waldschmidt. It would be very wrong, and if I heard of such a thing I should instantly give it up.’‘You may trust me indeed,mein liebes Fräulein! And now I go to the Herrn Professor, to tell him of my success. He will let you know all about the rest.’With the most affectionate adieux she departed. Sara and Avice, left alone, both burst into a fit of laughter.‘What an absurd little woman!’ exclaimed Avice.‘Painfully so,’ responded Sara. ‘I own that I wonder to see her going about doing this kind of thing herself. If it were not that the dear old Professor evidently desires it so much’—she tossed Wilhelmi’s note to Avice—‘I should refuse.’‘They are both very different subjects—the pictures, I mean,’ said Avice, musingly. ‘You will look splendid as Thusnelda, Sara.’‘Shall I? It is a splendid picture, certainly.’It was a picture representing that scene in Kleist’sHermannsschlacht, in which Hermann, seated beside Thusnelda, listens to her, while she indignantly relates how the Roman envoy, Ventidius, had impertinently, and without her knowledge, clipped off a lock of her hair, upon hearing which Hermann, with a grim and granite humour, and a mirth bordering on the diabolical, describes to her how that lock will probably go toRome, there to excite the cupidity of the Roman women, who, he informs her, admire hair like that—‘gold’ und schön, und trocken so wie dein,’—and sometimes have it—not growing on their own heads, but shorn from those of other women, and that the golden locks of a Teuton princess would be an ornament which they, any of them, would especially glory in wearing. It was a noble picture, by a celebrated artist, and Sara, already even, felt some thrills of pleasure in the idea of taking a part in the representation of it. The other picture was a rather ambitioustableau de genre, Goldmark’s last, and was calledJa, oder Nein.The next time that Wilhelmi saw Sara, she told him what she had done, and added:‘I hope I have been right, but it seems to me that there are many girls in Elberthal who ought to have had the parts offered to them—your townspeople,’ she added, smiling.Wilhelmi laughed as he asked, ‘Do you seriously mean to say you think there is any one young woman in Elberthal except yourself who would inthe leastlookthe part of Thusnelda?’Sara laughed, but was obliged to confess that she did not.She wrote to Jerome, telling him what she was going to do; adding, ‘I hope you don’t mind. My Hermann will only be Max Helmuth; he will look the part every inch, I must say, but he is quite harmless; he is engaged to Wilhelmi’s daughter, and wildly in love with her; so say you don’t mind, because they have set their hearts upon it.’Jerome replied that she must certainly take the part. ‘I suppose your Hermann is a contrast to me. One can only think of that enlightened barbarian as some fair-haired giant, with a fierce yellow moustache. You will make an ideal Thusnelda, I must say, according to Heinrich Kleist’s version, at any rate.’Relieved in her mind at having Jerome’s consent, and Wilhelmi’s approval, Sara gave herself up with genuine artist’s delight torehearsing and preparing her parts; that of Thusnelda in especial, giving her real joy and pleasure. The festival itself was fixed for the middle of October.
Decorated Heading.
Decorated First Letter
Tendays later, Sara, sitting one morning in her atelier, heard a knock at her door, and answered abstractedly ‘Herein!’
Looking up to see who might be her visitor, she saw a little lady in widow’s weeds.
‘Frau Goldmark!’ she exclaimed, rising in astonishment. Frau Goldmark was the widow of that young artist of promise, of whose sudden death Wilhelmi had informed her. Sara had heard constant talk of her for the last few days, to which talk she had listened in a vague, unheeding way. Her acquaintance with her was very slight, and had never beforegone so far as an exchange of visits, and she was proportionately surprised to see her now, and under the existing circumstances, in her atelier.
‘Yes,liebeMiss Ford, it is I. And you may well look astonished, but do only hear me.’
‘Come into my sitting-room, then, Frau Goldmark, and tell me what I can do for you,’ said Sara, leading the way to where Avice was seated with a book in the parlour.
Frau Goldmark was a slight, pretty, little woman, with round, important, excited-looking eyes, and a general aspect which did not altogether charm Miss Ford, who formed indeed, in appearance, and manner, and everything else, a startling contrast to her visitor. Sara had heard vague rumours which gave Frau Goldmark the name of a gossip, and she had never felt any violent desire to make her acquaintance; but her recent heavy loss, her widowhood, and the inevitable hardstruggle which lay before her, all combined to make Sara lay aside all considerations save those of kindness. She offered Frau Goldmark a seat, and waited to hear on what errand she had come.
‘I have come to ask a favour,mein Fräulein, an immense one;ein unerhörtes,’ she began.
‘Indeed! I wonder how I can serve you?’ asked Sara, in her most gracious manner.
Frau Goldmark looked at her keenly, despite her excitement, and found time for the reflection, ‘She certainly is as beautiful as all these men say, and if I can only get her to do it—I will ask for both the scenes while I am about it.’
‘You are aware, dear Miss Ford, of the most lamented death of my dear good husband,’ said Frau Goldmark, with brimming eyes and a trembling lip.
‘Yes, indeed! I was most truly grieved to hear of it. We must all lament it—you that you have lost a good husband, and we artists that abrother of such promise is lost to us.’
‘You speak most beautifully, Fräulein. It has been a sore blow to us. I and my babes are left almost penniless. I shall have to work now to find bread for them, and thanks to the goodness of my friends, I believe it will be made easy for me.’
‘Whatcanshe want?’ Sara was beginning to think, when Frau Goldmark again took up her parable with great animation, saying:
‘The artists, my husband’s friends, have not forsaken me in my distress. Herr Professor Wilhelmi has behaved to me like a father.’
‘He is goodness and generosity itself, I know,’ replied Sara, her full contralto tones in strong contrast with the high-pitched notes of Frau Goldmark’s voice. She had that great defect, common to so very many of her countrywomen, a high, harsh, shrill voice.
‘He asked me what he could do for me, and I related my plan to him,which he approved of. I said that if I had but a little capital I could earn a living for myself and my children. I would open a photographic atelier. My father was a photographer, and I am perfectly acquainted with everything belonging to the art.’ Sara suppressed a smile—this from an artist’s wife. ‘A very little practice, and I should succeed admirably. The money to start with remained the only difficulty.’
‘I see,’ said Sara, wondering more than ever what she could be supposed to have to do with it.
‘Perhaps you have heard, Fräulein, that Professor Wilhelmi, and some other gentlemen and ladies, have decided, out of their respect and love for my husband’s memory, to give an entertainment on my behalf oftableaux vivants, for which you know they are so celebrated here. They are to be given in theMalkastenClub, or, if that is not large enough, in theRittersaalof the Tonhalle.They think by this means that they can realise the sum necessary. Oh, Fräulein Ford, Ibegyou to consent!’
‘Consent—to what, my dear Frau Goldmark?’ she asked, in bewilderment.
‘If you will take a part in the two principal pictures, the success is assured of the whole entertainment,’ was her breathless reply, while Frau Goldmark half rose from her chair and held out her hands towards Sara,flehend, as she herself would have said, in a theatrical manner.
‘I—oh, I am afraid it is impossible!’ said Sara, hastily.
‘Ah, do not say so, Miss Ford! Think what it means to me. There is no one else here who can do it as you would do it. The Herr Professor quite agreed with me. He gave me this note to bring to you.’
Saying which, she suddenly pulled a little note from the bosom of her dress, and gave it to Sara, who, astonished at the whole affair, read, in Wilhelmi’s hand:
‘Do, if you possibly can, give your consent to Frau Goldmark’s request, it is for a good cause; and, if my approval is anything to you, you have it to the full.‘Wilhelmi.’
Here Avice, who had been listening intently, and who had just realised what it was all about, chimed in:
‘Oh, do, Sara!—do!’
‘Thank you,mein Fräulein, for taking my side,’ exclaimed Frau Goldmark, quickly.
‘What are the pictures you wish me to take part in?’ asked Sara. ‘Have you decided upon them?’
‘Natürlich, mein Fräulein.They are the two principal ones—a scene from Kleist’sHermannsschlacht, after the celebrated picture in the public gallery, with you for Thusnelda, and Herr Max Helmuth, Fräulein Wilhelmi’sBräutigam, as Hermann; and the last picture of my blessedMann;hisJa, oder Nein, which is still hanging unsold in the Exhibition.’
Sara was silent, pondering. She knew both the pictures. Frau Goldmark proceeded:
‘Professor Wilhelmi bade me come to you myself, for he said you would do that for the poor and afflicted which you would not for the prosperous and happy.’
‘Are you sure that everyone wishes it?’ asked Miss Ford.
‘As certain as I am that I am here,’ was the emphatic reply, ‘Denken sie nur, Fräulein!When the scheme was first proposed Amalia Waldschmidt vowed she would have the part of the lady in my husband’s picture—she, the stupid, heavy—but pardon! I ought to be grateful to all; only the Herr Professor quite agreed with me that she was the last person to take such a part. She has noGeist, noGefühl. How can she give to the picture the expression it requires? But she made a point of taking that part; they say, because she is so anxious toact with Ludwig Maas, who takes the part of the bold but poor lover.’ Seeing a strong expression of distaste and disapproval upon Miss Ford’s face, Frau Goldmark went on quickly:
‘And you know,liebstes Fräulein, her father is a man whom we dare not offend, anddieAmalia rules him with a rod of iron.’
Sara bowed assent to this proposition. It was evident that to the excited little widow this great entertainment formed the representative event of the modern world.
‘Imagine!’ she went on, ‘Amalia is suddenly taken ill withscharlach-fieber—scarlet fever you call it. Yes, it is so; and it is providential. Naturally she cannot act the part, nor even appear at thelebende Bilder, for whichGott sei dank! though I know it is very wrong of me to say so. And I hope she will have the fever mildly and make a speedy recovery; but ah, I am glad she comes not; and I doprayof you, dear Miss Ford, to take the part, and also that ofThusnelda. I shall bless you all my life if you only will.’
‘I will take the parts, Frau Goldmark, and will do my best to act them well,’ said Sara, composedly, anxious to put an end to the widow’s exaggerated prayers and protestations. Her consent was received with a perfect whirlwind of thanks and blessings and expressions of joy, which she cut short by saying:
‘But I beg you will not say anything comparing me with Fräulein Waldschmidt. It would be very wrong, and if I heard of such a thing I should instantly give it up.’
‘You may trust me indeed,mein liebes Fräulein! And now I go to the Herrn Professor, to tell him of my success. He will let you know all about the rest.’
With the most affectionate adieux she departed. Sara and Avice, left alone, both burst into a fit of laughter.
‘What an absurd little woman!’ exclaimed Avice.
‘Painfully so,’ responded Sara. ‘I own that I wonder to see her going about doing this kind of thing herself. If it were not that the dear old Professor evidently desires it so much’—she tossed Wilhelmi’s note to Avice—‘I should refuse.’
‘They are both very different subjects—the pictures, I mean,’ said Avice, musingly. ‘You will look splendid as Thusnelda, Sara.’
‘Shall I? It is a splendid picture, certainly.’
It was a picture representing that scene in Kleist’sHermannsschlacht, in which Hermann, seated beside Thusnelda, listens to her, while she indignantly relates how the Roman envoy, Ventidius, had impertinently, and without her knowledge, clipped off a lock of her hair, upon hearing which Hermann, with a grim and granite humour, and a mirth bordering on the diabolical, describes to her how that lock will probably go toRome, there to excite the cupidity of the Roman women, who, he informs her, admire hair like that—‘gold’ und schön, und trocken so wie dein,’—and sometimes have it—not growing on their own heads, but shorn from those of other women, and that the golden locks of a Teuton princess would be an ornament which they, any of them, would especially glory in wearing. It was a noble picture, by a celebrated artist, and Sara, already even, felt some thrills of pleasure in the idea of taking a part in the representation of it. The other picture was a rather ambitioustableau de genre, Goldmark’s last, and was calledJa, oder Nein.
The next time that Wilhelmi saw Sara, she told him what she had done, and added:
‘I hope I have been right, but it seems to me that there are many girls in Elberthal who ought to have had the parts offered to them—your townspeople,’ she added, smiling.
Wilhelmi laughed as he asked, ‘Do you seriously mean to say you think there is any one young woman in Elberthal except yourself who would inthe leastlookthe part of Thusnelda?’
Sara laughed, but was obliged to confess that she did not.
She wrote to Jerome, telling him what she was going to do; adding, ‘I hope you don’t mind. My Hermann will only be Max Helmuth; he will look the part every inch, I must say, but he is quite harmless; he is engaged to Wilhelmi’s daughter, and wildly in love with her; so say you don’t mind, because they have set their hearts upon it.’
Jerome replied that she must certainly take the part. ‘I suppose your Hermann is a contrast to me. One can only think of that enlightened barbarian as some fair-haired giant, with a fierce yellow moustache. You will make an ideal Thusnelda, I must say, according to Heinrich Kleist’s version, at any rate.’
Relieved in her mind at having Jerome’s consent, and Wilhelmi’s approval, Sara gave herself up with genuine artist’s delight torehearsing and preparing her parts; that of Thusnelda in especial, giving her real joy and pleasure. The festival itself was fixed for the middle of October.