In Warnicken, the Regierungsrath was again engaged in eager dispute with the Kreisgerichtsrath; his disposition was an unfriendly one. Nothing was heard of Blanden, and ever again the thought arose in old Kalzow that he and his Miranda might have imperilled Eva's good name by their thoughtless encouragement. Even one single such sad, disagreeable thought suffices, especially when people are up in years, to cast a shadow over their whole life. It is not like a poisonous fungus that grows quietly in the shade; it is like a bursting dust-ball which, at the least touch, covers us from head to foot with its deadly contents.
Warnicken had suddenly become wearisome to the Regierungsrath; always the Wolfs-schlucht, and the Fuchs-spitze, and the monotonous sound of the breakers, and the usually bad dinner, and the Liberal Kreisgerichtsrath, who daily became more unbearable. At the same time the intolerable heat; everything was uncomfortable for him, even his flannel jacket, and his big white neck-cloth, and at times even his Miranda.
The latter, too, was not exactly in a roseate temper, and she exposed her majestic side more than usual, especially to those who stood nearest to her throne.
Political questions were now but little discussed with the Kreisgerichtsrath; as regards politics, the Regierungsrath was very reserved; but were there not a hundred other subjects about which they could hold opposite views, and the Regierungsrath now always was of an opposite opinion from every other mortal with whom he commenced a conversation.
It was a sultry summer evening, when Kalzow, with his wife and the Kreisgerichtsrath, sat on the Fuchs-spitze. The sun was inclining to its rest, and cast glowing lights into the waves. Yet it was still so hot that the Regierungsrath laid his straw hat beside him upon the bench, and continually made movements betokening such craving for freedom, as though he would jump out of his cravat, and occasionally even out of his skin.
"To-day there were eighty degrees of heat in the shade," said the Kreisgerichtsrath, as he wiped away the drops of perspiration.
"Thirty degrees, I say thirty degrees," retorted Kalzow, irritatedly.
"Eight-and-twenty degrees Réaumur," said the Kreisgerichtsrath, with quiet decision.
"Réaumur! Of course, Réaumur. What have we to do with Fahrenheit or Celsius?"
"The astronomists measure by Celsius."
"I am no star-gazer, and decline any such inuendoes," said Kalzow, while coughing annoyedly. "Unfortunately, people have enough to do to watch their own feet, so that they may not stumble upon earth."
Miranda sighed, while her knitting needles began to move nervously.
The Kreisgerichtsrath shrugged his shoulders, and drew figures in the sand; he knew well that for his friend he played the part that in sham-fights the appointed enemy does, against whom all manœuvres are directed. Yet he was not prepared for so vigorous an onslaught as that with which the Regierungsrath surprised him.
"Indeed, it is impossible to bear with you any longer," continued the latter. "You contradict one constantly; do you then, think that it makes intercourse pleasant in such heat? I have put a seal upon politics--I do not allude to that tender theme any more; can one give greater proofs of peaceable intentions? I am contented with everything, with general assemblies, even, for anything that I care, with the French revolution; I allow it all to be discharged over me like torrents of rain, and do not even put up an umbrella before it; but you seek quarrels, you do! Can there be anything more harmless than the lines in a thermometer to which the mercurial column extends its tongue; no, even for that the alarm-drum must be beaten. Quarrelling, everlasting quarrelling, here where one ought to recruit oneself; I can bear it no longer!"
A violent fit of coughing closed this bayonet charge upon his patient friend.
The Kreisgerichtsrath rose with great calmness and said--
"I can give no better proofs of my peaceable intentions than by retiring," and he disappeared upon the footpath that led to the valley.
This retreat did not much improve Kalzow's temper, for he felt it to be his own moral defeat. Much excited, he walked to and fro, and was not disinclined to make the only person who could still be called to account, responsible for all the evil which lay in the air to-day; yet, a glance at her, and the challenging manner in which she handled her knitting needles, proved sufficiently to him that this fort was fully armed and ensured against any surprise, and that in an attack upon it he should be running great danger.
Therefore, he sat down again beside his wife, after he had soothed his internal excitement by several pinches of snuff, and commenced a peaceful conversation.
"What has become of Eva?"
"The girl wanted to read something, and then water the flowers."
"How do you think she is?"
"As usual--quiet, and sometimes in a happier state of mind than formerly."
"She has perfect confidence?"
"So far, she has not uttered a word of doubt."
"Well, then, all will be right! She has Blanden's promise, and I take him to be a man of his word."
"Certainly, at least, we will hope it, although it is a sad experience that even the best of men, whose word at other times is firm as a rock, always waver in love. That is an abandoned territory; there begins the great comedy of life, behind the scenes of which one can never see properly."
"Come, it is hardly so bad."
"Nor married men, dear Kalzow, do I trust entirely; they are the worst kind; but we will draw a veil over that--it is best to do so!"
"But if Blanden even keep his word, supposing, indeed, that he has given it, about which the contract is not yet signed--you know my sister has, it is true, consented that we should adopt her daughter, because, to a certain extent, public opinion demanded it; yet she attached the condition thereto, that her daughter's betrothal should immediately be announced to her, and she be invited to any celebration of it; under any circumstances, she will make the bridegroom's acquaintance as soon as possible."
"We cannot prevent that, dear Kalzow; and, after all, what she requires is reasonable. On such an occasion the unnatural barrier should fall that separates her from her daughter. Certainly, this sister-in-law is like an evil spirit to me; she spoils our social reputation; we have always kept her aloof from her daughter, and only sent her regular reports as to the latter's well-being; Eva herself has never been allowed to write to her; such a total separation was unavoidable."
"But what will Blanden say to that mother?"
"From what one hears, neither had anything wherewith to reproach themselves; he probably knows them; they moved in the same circles for some time."
"That is quite possible! All the same, it will be hard for me to point her out as the girl's mother; nor is it in truth, necessary, she has no longer any right over the girl. Should she, however, come to the betrothal, nothing will remain for us but to raise the veil. But where is Eva? The worst would be if we troubled our heads about matters which, indeed, exist nowhere but in our brains; day after day passes, and Blanden does not return."
While the married couple thus exchanged their anxieties and fears, their looks were suddenly arrested by a boat gliding over the sea.
The Regierungsrath had a perfect right to cough, because his telescope did not deceive him; it was Eva who, instead of reading and watering the flowers in the garden, let herself once again be rocked upon the ocean's waves, with the idiot fisherman's girl.
"A disobedient child," said the Regierungsräthin, annoyed; "there is something erratic about her; she does not belie her mother's blood."
"Yet her father, who died early, was an honourable man; he only committed the fault of trying to use a will-o'-the-wisp as a night-light."
"Fie, Kalzow."
"She is my sister, and yet she was not worthy of so good a man as the captain; from her youth upwards she was a strange creature, enthusiastically dreamy, often wild and eager for pleasure. Eva, fortunately, takes more after her father than her mother."
Meanwhile Eva had landed and wandered, singing, up the Fuchs-spitze.
"Naughty girl! You wanted to be taken captive again," her foster-father cried to her, his good humour having gradually been restored during his conversation with Miranda.
"Oh, no, papa! I am already a captive," said Eva, smiling.
"Disobedience merits punishment," interposed her stern mother! "we will leave you at home on our next pleasure party."
"Then Salomon will be thoroughly miserable," retorted Eva, laughing.
"And Herr von Blanden does not come," said the Rath, assuming the air of a judge of assizes. "You both have a little conspiracy between you; but he promised to return soon."
"Do not be uneasy, papa! He has more important business at home than here, but as he pledged his word he is sure to come."
"I suppose the mermaids sang that to you?"
"What do mermaids know of a man's word? But I know that it is firm and unchanging, and that one may sleep quietly beneath its care, as if under angels' wings."
She said this in an elevated voice, and a transfiguring radiancy seemed to pass over her features. Her parents also soon felt calmed by Eva's indomitable trust. The Rath would gladly have directed a few more questions to the girl, but Salomon's arrival interrupted the conversation.
The latter came breathlessly up the hill.
"I know something, Fräulein Eva, but even I can keep my secrets to myself."
"Then you--"
"Redeem it, as one does in playing at forfeits!"
"I am not inclined to play."
"I believe it! The sun is setting so beautifully, it makes one think--
'The maid stood by the ocean,And long and deep sighed she,With heartfelt sad emotionThe setting sun to see.'"[1]
'The maid stood by the ocean,
And long and deep sighed she,
With heartfelt sad emotion
The setting sun to see.'"[1]
"But, my dear Salomon," said Eva, "we know our Heine by heart."
"'Sweet maiden, why this fretting?An olden trick is here,'"
"'Sweet maiden, why this fretting?An olden trick is here,'"
Salomon continued to recite unabashedly, and then added--
"Heine pleases me actually better than Schiller; one feels more at ease with him. Everything about Schiller is more solemn, one must appear in full dress, and be led about in nothing but state apartments, where one feels shy of sitting down. With Heine, one enters a cosy drinking party; all sit down in shirt sleeves, and one hastens to pull off one's own coat."
"That would be like playing nine-pins," said Eva.
"Certainly, the poet always meets the Nine; he scoffs at false sentiment, and in life, as in society, there is so much false sentiment; it is just as in the Palais Royal in Paris, where I went last holidays with mamma. The shops with sham diamonds and precious stones are to be found side by side with those full of genuine jewellery, and, at the first glance, one cannot distinguish the imitation. Therefore, our thanks are due to the man who has taught us the true and the false by his scoffing remarks. Even with Schiller, false jewels of sentiment are to be found. Laura at the piano! excuse me. I have seen many a girl sit at the piano, who did not play badly either, but never have I thought when doing so of 'Cocytus' waves of tears,' or of 'the suns which arise from out the giant arms of chaos,' or even the verse, 'Lips, cheeks, burned and quivered.' That is not the way people kiss! I have never noticed anything of the sort. Or even Thecla, who looks upon her lover as a good angel, who would carry her pick-a-back up the mountains! What a picture of bad taste! And we are to rave about that? Fräulein, will you know my secret now?"
"Not yet, Herr Salomon."
"Then, you see, a great deal of poetical rubbish is talked about these sunsets. After all, it is quite natural, and it is connected with the earth's revolution that the sun seems to set, and its rays break into gay colours through the denser strata of vapour on the horizon. But it is really childish to go into ecstasies about those few bright colours; it is the same pleasure that the soap-bubbles inspire in childish minds; and yet such things are sung in all metres of verse. And there is also an ode, which we had to learn by rote, and begins with the lines--
'Sun, thou sinkest,Sun, thou sinkest,Sink in peace then, oh, thou sun!'
'Sun, thou sinkest,Sun, thou sinkest,Sink in peace then, oh, thou sun!'
It is, I believe, by a certain Kosegarten, who bore a very well-known and much promising name, but, alas! was a parson, somewhere near some large waters, whence he drew his poetry. Then comes Heine, and calls the sunset an 'old piece;' capital, and how the scales fall from our eyes. That is the man for me! Do not you rave about 'Lorelei,' too, my Fräulein? Should you not like to be a 'Lorelei?'"
"Papa would first have to buy me a golden comb."
"And what will you give for my secret?"
"Still nothing, Herr Salomon."
"Well, I am disinterested, my Fräulein!
'My blossoming life thou hast poisoned,And made it hateful to me.'
'My blossoming life thou hast poisoned,And made it hateful to me.'
But I revenge myself nobly! I know that my communication will cause you pleasure; and, besides, I know that I shall be grieved at your pleasure; I know that I cannot reckon upon the least reward as messenger--and yet--I will make the communication--Herr von Blanden has just arrived."
The effect of the news was, indeed, greater than even Salomon had expected. Rath and Räthin started up from the bench, with countenances radiant with pleasure! Eva stood as if transfigured with blissful delight in the last gleam of the evening's glow, and folded her hands.
Yes, she even vouchsafed a kindly smile and a word of thanks to the head scholar. The latter had greeted Herr von Blanden immediately upon his arrival, as he drove up to the inn, and informed him where he should find the Kalzow family. Therefore, it was decided to await him up here. Eva's heart beat violently; she did not listen to her parents' remarks, which suddenly spent themselves in Blanden's praise, his punctuality and reliability, still less to Salomon's recitals, which scattered abundant daring allusions and poetical quotations, in order to console himself for the fresh triumphs which his rival celebrated.
"Did I not say that I should give you pleasure?
'To all, its arms doth Mirth unfold,And every heart forgets its cares--And Hope is busy in the old.'
'To all, its arms doth Mirth unfold,And every heart forgets its cares--And Hope is busy in the old.'
But I bear a striking resemblance to Cassandra, and wander like her--
'Unjoyous in the joyful throng.'
'Unjoyous in the joyful throng.'
It is so charming to be so watched for, greeted with such delight! This Blanden! But one must console oneself--
'With careless hands they mete our doom,Our woe or welfare, Hazard givesPatroclus slumbers in the tomb.'
'With careless hands they mete our doom,Our woe or welfare, Hazard givesPatroclus slumbers in the tomb.'
And still it is melancholy--
'Gleams my love in beauty's splendour,Like the child of ocean's foam,As his bride my mistress tenderIs a stranger taking home.'"
'Gleams my love in beauty's splendour,
Like the child of ocean's foam,
As his bride my mistress tender
Is a stranger taking home.'"
Eva would have been best pleased to hasten down the footpath to meet her beloved one, if she had been free to follow her heart's impulses.
Blanden came at last, and she only greeted him with a cordial shake of the hand. The scholar averted his gaze, and looked at the sea that was already playing in the ashen grey tints of dusk; no more verses arose to his mind. The Rath was full of amiability.
"We expected you in vain both yesterday and the previous day; however, the harvest, the harvest! I know what importance that is on large estates; the well-filled barns, the ricks in all the fields; because it is a bountiful year. In Kulmitten you cultivate more wheat; I know that, and in Nehren the soil is more adapted for rye."
"And you are sure to part reluctantly from your castle," added the Räthin. "No doubt you have a fine orangery, splendid flower beds! That is wanting here. Nature here is somewhat wild! I like order. Hedges of yew--I am passionately fond of them! Have you yew in your park?"
"Everything that you wish,gnädigeFrau, every kind of indigenous and exotic weeds! But the most beautiful flower I have still to transplant to my park. Herr Rath, Frau Räthin, may I beg you to grant me a serious conversation at your house?"
"We are at your service, at your service," said the Rath, as he seized his hat quickly, pushed his chin back expectantly into his neck-cloth, and in all his movements evinced eager promptitude. Miranda was also ready for a speedy departure, like a proud frigate that is about to raise its anchor.
Eva stood, her hand pressed upon her heart, and, with Salomon, slowly followed them as they hastened away.
It was rather tranquillising for her when the former deemed this moment to be a favourable one in which to make a declaration of love to her, which she declined with kind decision; it relieved the moment's state of tension.
Salomon, having received this rebuff, did not think he ought to linger longer in Eva's vicinity. He bade her a cold farewell and sped back to the Fuchs-spitze.
Below, in the modest reception-room, in which the smoky beams were pasted over with the cheapest sheets of pictures of Neu-Ruppin, Blanden spoke the decisive word. He proposed for Eva's hand, he promised to make her happy, he explained that his circumstances permitted him to relinquish any dowry, that he did not need to enquire as to her fortune, that in herself he found the greatest treasure, the greatest riches with which he would now adorn his life.
Bright tears of joy glistened in the old Rath's eyes, and Miranda also wept. It was a strange scene; who had ever seen the Regierungsräthin Kalzow, that stony Niobe, weep? But both loved Eva with all their hearts, even although in their own way, and now to be able to greet her as a rich, aristocratic mistress of a castle, was indeed delightful.
After having given his consent, the Rath said, hesitatingly, "I am too happy to be able to welcome you as my future son-in-law; although only my consent is needed, yet I must inform you that we are merely the girl's adopted parents. Her father is dead, her mother still lives upon a small estate that her husband, a captain, left to her; she is my sister; she will not fail to be present at her daughter's wedding or betrothal."
"She will be welcome to us," said Blanden; "I repeat, that it does not trouble me whether, from you or her real mother, Eva has any prospects of inheritance. Are not all my possessions hers, so soon as the union is sealed, and now I pray you summon Eva, and give us your blessing."
Evidently Eva's family was wearisome to Blanden; all information about them was void of interest for him, he hoped so soon as possible to deliver her from this irksome connection. Her mother was Kalzow's sister. He was not very eager to make her acquaintance. The dreary atmosphere of this narrow-minded, prosaic life, should no longer oppress his Eva, and even the thought of two mothers-in-law did not disturb him farther; he had confidence in his power to hold as much aloof from the one as from the other.
Eva appeared: she was full of joy and happiness--was it not only what she had expected? Mother Miranda gazed with certain pride upon her child; she began already to treat the future aristocratic lady with certain consideration, and to clothe her faultfinding in a pleasant garb. She suddenly looked upon Eva with totally different eyes; she had formerly never thought that she should feel any respect for this little girl.
Blanden folded Eva closely and impetuously to his heart, he said silently to himself: "Now I begin a new life; now I place a boundary and sign-stone to my past; the future of my whole life depends upon this moment! May it smile as kindly upon me as do the wonderful eyes of this glorious girl!" But then he said in joyful excitement--"As I would proclaim my happiness to the world, so do I feel the need for others to rejoice with me! We will celebrate our betrothal in the largest, most extensive circle; let that be my care, Herr Rath! To arrange the solemnization of the marriage according to the country's custom, be yours; in that I will not interfere with you, but the betrothal celebration confide to me."
"But it will be difficult for you, here in Warnicken," began the Räthin.
"It is impossible here," interrupted Blanden. "I must beg you all to migrate to Neukuhren for a few days. It possesses a Kursaal, and merry company; many of my friends are there. I will make arrangements for an entertainment in that place, and all Kuhren shall be invited."
"Shall we not rather enjoy our happiness alone?" asked Eva, pressing closely to her lover.
"I am proud of you, and will show all the world that I am so; you must let me have my own way in this matter."
The entertainment at Neukuhren flattered her parent's pride; they gave their consent, and undertook to take lodgings there a few days later, so as to assist in his preparations. Of course, Blanden said, all the visitors staying at Warnicken were included in the invitation; neither the Kriesgerichtsrath nor Salomon, nor Minna with her envious mother were to be omitted.
The particular evening was decided upon, everything planned. Miranda possessed courage sufficient not to dread the troubles of a migration, and never had Rath Kalzow's pipe seemed so enjoyable to him as on that evening.
But Blanden wished to enjoy the sanctity of those hours alone with Eva; they granted themselves leave of absence, and walked towards the sea. The idiot ocean-maiden lay on the sand beside her boat, and stared fixedly at the east, where the moon was just rising deeply red out of the waters; she did not look unlike a seal.
"Käthe, we wish to row on the sea," Blanden called to her. Quickly as lightning the girl arose, kissed his hand, sprang into the boat and seized the oar.
Soon the lovers were rocking upon the slightly disturbed waters.
Käthe kept good time with her oars, but glared as if amazed when Blanden and Eva exchanged kisses and embraces. On the first occasion she even let the oars drop while she folded her hands.
The moon meanwhile had risen entirely, and silvered the wide expanse of the East Sea, the bare cliffs, the green ravines, but a cold wind swept from the north. The waves rose higher, the boat began to roll. Blanden pressed his beloved one firmly to himself, to protect her from the raw north wind; she looked into his eyes, and so avoided the sight of the rolling gunwales, and at the same time the discomfort of dizziness.
Above brightly sparkled the Polar star, Cassiopea, the Milky-way; but it seemed as though, by the boat's uncertain motion, even the heavenly stars began to rock.
It was a disagreeable voyage. Eva shivered; Blanden could not help thinking of the excursions in boats on Lago Maggiore, of the warm breath that glided over the magic lake, of the enchanting delight of a southern night; but the young life that was pressed so trustingly to his side had given itself up for ever to him; how differently his heart was stirred by it from what it was by that mysterious beauty who only broke one or two jewels out of her crown for him.
"This is yours, confided to your protection for a whole life-time!" With that thought he replied to the questions which seemed to be directed to his heart from Eva's widely-opened, gazelle-like eyes.
Louder became the roaring of the distant waves; Käthe, without waiting for orders, guided the boat back to the shore. And the billows, rearing themselves up ever higher, came rolling on like serpents behind the young betrothed couple, tossing the skiff up and down. Eva's blooming features and cheeks paled, dizziness and discomfort took possession of her; it was time that the boat should reach the shore. Blanden was obliged to exert all his strength in assisting Käthe to land.
"The storm has put our young love to the test," said Blanden, "but we hold to one another in trouble and in joy, and defy danger."
Which Eva confirmed with a heartfelt kiss and fervent embrace.
The ocean-maiden, however, again lay upon the strand; the tempest raged above her; her red shawl fluttered in the wind; the waves must wet her feet.
Of what was she thinking?
Idiot Käthe loved Blanden and hated her rival.
During all these occurrences, life in the bathing-place, Neukuhren, continued on its course, like a wound-up watch. Professor Baute and Dr. Reising still lived upon a philosophical war-footing; Baute often maintained, with an energy which seemed to disarm any contradiction, that Hegel's philosophy was quite incomprehensible to any reasonable creature, that the somersaults of his ideas were only harlequinades of thought, and that if he had read a few chapters of logic he felt like the scholar of Faust--
"My brain with all that nonsense reels,As if in my head revolved mill wheels."
"My brain with all that nonsense reels,As if in my head revolved mill wheels."
Dr. Reising paled with internal annoyance, and bit his lips; he pushed his rebellious hair back from his head with a nervously trembling hand, but he took tall Albertina for an example, who, like a goddess of silence, always seemed to lay a finger upon his lips. He, too, was silent, and he had his reasons for it, he was now making great progress in the conquest of the Professor's seven daughters. Dr. Kuhl had advised him to fix his eyes upon one of two youngest, who had the longest future before them, and of whom, perhaps, something might still be made; but when, obediently to such experienced counsel, he devoted particular attention to Gretchen and Marie, he encountered a decided repulse, as the two foolish creatures did not know how to appreciate the great importance of a Hegelite. Gretchen and Marie, who quarrelled the live-long day, were only unanimous on one point--that Dr. Reising's nose had an ugly termination, and that there was something intolerably knowing in his mode of placing his finger upon it. Gretchen considered that his voice was too thin, that his words could be passed through the eye of a needle, and Marie said the Doctor appeared to her like a nibbling mouse.
Of what assistance was all Dr. Kuhl's wisdom? It was rendered futile by circumstances. Forced to retreat by the young troops, Reising met with better success before the old guards. He did not know himself how it came about, but Euphrasia, with her two Slavonian plaits, and her coquettish smile, had conquered his heart, and here, too, he encountered a readiness that was only ill concealed beneath mock-modest resistance. And she was the eldest.
To a head accustomed to think correctly, this was a decided advantage, for how much evil has not befallen many a family by the marriage of a younger daughter preceding that of an elder one. Surely everything in the world must be done in proper rotation. "In proper rotation" is one of the principles of creation, and the Doctor did little to offend them when he wooed the ripest beauty of the Baute family. But, from want of other conquests, as Dr. Kuhl was absent, and, according to report, was unattainable for several reasons, Ophelia and Lori had also resolved to be pleased with Reising, and to cast out their nets over him. Thus the Baute family performed a sort of "Midsummer Night's Dream," a rushing to and fro, seeking and evading ensued, such as only the sap of the wonderful flower, "Love-in-Idleness," can produce.
There they sat together in a jasmine bower, Reising and Euphrasia; he had caught her, and she had let herself be caught with pleasure. She sat there reading Puschkin's poems, and her two blonde plaits moved about most gracefully when she shook her head over any of the poet's bold or inadmissible thoughts.
He had come to her; at first she started at this surprise, but then resigned herself to the inevitable. As is befitting womanly modesty, when alone with a strange man, she did not venture to look straightly at him; now and again she cast a glance towards him, in which flashed as much meaning as possible.
"Puschkin is a great poet," said she, in a kind of ecstasy. "Indeed, I love the Russian poets; they are not such Philistines as the Germans. What views! One sees that they belong to a nation that rules the earth!"
"Very beautiful, Fräulein Euphrasia! But still the world is ruled by the mind, and it is the German mind that is called to the world's dominion."
"Herbart, or Hegel?" asked Euphrasia, smiling coquettishly.
"Oh, my Fräulein! You touch a very tender spot in my life; it makes me so sad that I cannot hold the same opinions as your father."
"Why sad?" asked Euphrasia. "Learned men are seldom of the same opinion."
"Oh, you know; you must know why it makes me sad!"
"Not at all," replied the fair one, smiling unconsciously.
"I should wish above everything that all men of intellect should recognise Hegel as their mental guide; what is more adapted to such guidance than a system which inculcates the progress of man in the consciousness of freedom. What does Herbart teach?--all respect to your father! Nothing of the sort! He confuses the good and the beautiful in a lamentable manner; nowhere does he speak of the progress of mankind. With him the mind is atabula rasa, where different ideas agree to meet. Some are stronger, others weaker; they create a king of the rats, and hang one upon another. It is an excellent comedy; there some tumble down again headlong over the threshold of knowledge! Ah, my Fräulein! that may perhaps suit the ideas which one entertains when knitting stockings, but not the ideas which shall found the world's existence."
"Papa may be mistaken," said Euphrasia. "Our mother always maintained that he was mistaken, and if this occurred in matters that we understand, it is probably also the case in those that we do not comprehend."
"Schiller certainly maintained," continued Reising, "that only 'error is life, and knowledge is death,' but which German University could choose such a motto? Why, in that case all would be changed into churchyards, because knowledge is their life, and inconceivably much is known, my Fräulein!"
"Certainly, certainly, Herr Doctor, inconceivably much, and even by single individuals, yourself for instance," said Euphrasia, as she bowed humbly before Hegel's all-knowing pupil.
"At least ahorror vacuiassails us true disciples of knowledge from a Socratian standpoint. We are to know that we can know nothing; of what use, then, would be the search of a whole life-time? But, my Fräulein, it is not about that I would now speak with you. Even the difference of opinions is as old as the world, but I only wished to tell you that it is a misfortune if we, your father and I, cannot agree."
"Oh, there are some points," said Euphrasia, rather hastily, "about which this unanimity is not so difficult."
"Do you think so, my Fräulein?" said the Doctor, quickly, as he passed his hand several times through his bristly hair. "Oh, you make me happy--if I dared hope, yes, I must confess to you, I must--"
Just at this moment, when Euphrasia hung so devoutly upon the lips of the future private tutor that her plaits even forgot their otherwise wonted pendulum-like motions, malicious chance brought her two dear sisters, Ophelia and Lori, upon the scene, who, behind the creepers around the arbour, had listened, unperceived, to Reising's last outpourings, and now believed that the time had arrived for them to come forward.
"We bring interesting news, dear sister," said Lori, who spitefully remarked the effect produced by her appearance.
Euphrasia rose, glowing with anger, for such an interruption in one of the most beautiful moments of her life, and which promised to be still much more beautiful, had enraged her intensely. Doctor Reising, it is true, as Hegel's pupil, always looked upon chance as unreasoning, but this one appeared to be a stronger argument than ever in favour of the immortal master's doctrine than all other chances which had already befallen him in his young life.
"What is the matter?" asked Euphrasia, sternly. Her whole demeanour assumed an air of command, and had Reising been a better psychologist, he would have discovered no favourable reading of the horoscope for his wedded future in the tone and manner of his Euphrasia.
"We walked quickly," said Ophelia, "and wanted to rest for a moment."
And she sat down upon the bench, breathing with difficulty and sighing, and darted one of those glances, soft as velvet, which flatter a susceptible heart wonderfully, at Doctor Reising, who stood near her. Her eyes were furnished with long silken lashes, and as they were her sole recognised beauty, she had brought the skilful management of them to a most artistic state of perfection; she laid claim to sentimentality, which was peculiarly favoured by this dowry of Nature. When she cast her eyes modestly down, they disappeared almost entirely beneath their silken curtain; if she turned them up, it lay like a canopy above their rapturous glance. But Doctor Reising did not possess his friend Doctor Kuhl's versatility in the remotest degree. Ophelia's eyelashes had no power over him after Euphrasia's plaits had bound him in their fetters, and he looked coldly down upon those speaking, upturned eyes like a dreary, rainy sky upon two widely opened flower calyx.
"There is to be a large entertainment," said Lori, dancing to and fro. "Doctor Kuhl has just told us of it, and we came, dear sister, to bring you the glad news."
"What do I care about your entertainment?"
"Oh, we are all to be invited. Herr von Blanden has engaged himself in Warnicken, and to-morrow will celebrate his betrothal. They are to dance under the big pear tree."
The news was not without its effect upon Euphrasia; she leaned her head upon her hand, and said, thoughtfully--
"What shall we wear?"
"Our summer dresses, of course," replied Lori. "I, my sap-green, you, your violet. Ophelia, to be sure, has an ugly pink dress. The bodice is much too high; it makes her look like apicottee, with a stem that is broken near the top. Emma is sensible, and always wears dark clothes, but Albertina's white dress still bears traces of the last picnic, and is covered with every variety of soil. What our two little ones wear does not matter; no one notices those half-grown up creatures."
After this weighty affair had been quickly settled by loquacious Lori, Euphrasia found time to enquire who the bride was.
"A little girl from Warnicken," said Lori, in a tone of indifference. "The daughter of a Regierungsrath. She has no fortune, and opinions differ as to her beauty."
"Oh, heavens, what luck!" sighed Ophelia, "such a wealthy, noble landowner."
"Some say," continued Lori, "he had met her at the seaside in a wood, where she was standing, wreathed in garlands of leaves, like a dryad just stepped forth out of the trunk of an oak, and there she bewitched him, as nothing of the sort ever appeared to him in his own forests in Masuren. Others, on the contrary, say he met her on the sea; it was a novel kind of fishing, he himself was more the fish than the fisherman, as she has cast her net with great skill. Who can tell how it occurred? Besides, it is perfectly immaterial; the principal thing is, that to-morrow evening there will be dancing under the pear tree."
"But we must return," said Ophelia.
"We only came to fetch you. Herr von Blanden is going from table to table inviting the people; we must not delay. Doctor Kuhl will introduce us to him."
"Come, Doctor Reising!"
"There is no such great hurry," said Euphrasia. "I have seen Her von Blanden several times already, he does not interest me! I do not like those aristocratic landowners; certainly he looks very different from the rest; he has a pair of remarkable eyes, but in reality they are all moulded in the same fashion. So if you like, we will remain here."
But the sisterly rivals would not allow that, their eloquence on the subject was of such convincing power, or rather was so clad with thorns of every description, that the Doctor and the heiress of the house of Baute, found it most advisable to yield.
The visitors at Neukuhren were in a state of great excitement, the committee of amusement had announced its sittings to be permanent; all were invited by Blanden; all wished to prove their gratitude at the betrothal by some act or attention. A concert should precede the dance under the large pear tree; there was so much young musical talent, that a large amateur orchestra was easily formed, and all private performers had brought their instruments with them, so that any one strolling along the village street of Neukuhren on a quiet summer's evening would hear, now on the right, now on the left, sounds like wonderful solos of a separated band of musicians, to which chance often lent discordant symphony. An assessor who played first upon the cornet, then the trumpet, made himself most audible; people pretended to remark that the sea then always became particularly disturbed, as though the Tritons and Nereides stormed upon the strand because they were jealous of the competition with their shell-horns. One first and one second violin, who lived in two stories of the same house, sought to arrange an impossible harmony between the "Carnival of Venice" and the second's part in a quartett by Beethoven. The flute was played every evening by one of the stoutest proprietors in the district of Labian, who blew everything that he possessed into the holes of that oldest of wooden instruments. The smallest doctor who practised which the town of pure reason could produce, played the violoncello; he found numerous patients amongst his listeners, and had to be sought for behind his instrument where he was in danger of disappearing. A lawyer, white as dough, who on account of lack of legal knowledge wished to devote himself to a diplomatic career, also played the violoncello, and indeed so well that a brilliant future was prophecied for him as such artistic performances in drawing-rooms fit people for higher diplomatic posts. A great kettle-drum was also present in Neukuhren, but in this instance it belonged to a professional not an amateur: that might be the reason why, although it had been seen to be unloaded from the carriage, its existence remained a myth, and the artist seemed to content himself with one important part of his performance, with counting the pauses in the time.
The formation of the orchestra was entrusted to an unknown composer, who, it was said, had the manuscript of four operas lying in his work-room. One of them was always absent, and wandered about amongst the different German general-managers, from whom, however, it always returned home safely, like Noah's dove to the ark, certainly without an olive or laurel branch; then the next manuscript commenced its wanderings with similar result. Happily the composer, in addition to his talents and his scores, still possessed a few hundred thousand dollars, so that society could pardon his musical tendencies and performances. Long since he had bought himself a superbbâtonin order one day to conduct one of his operas. With this magic staff in his pocket, Müller von Stallupönen, as he called himself, in order to be distinguished from other celebrated Müllers, ran about that day to make the necessary arrangements, his long hair fluttering in the breeze, which blew from off the East Sea. In spite of this cooling element, he was obliged to wipe the perspiration from his forehead, because it was a toilsome labour to obtain an equal temperature of disposition in all the coadjutors, and similarity of views about the pieces of music to be performed. The violoncellist as future diplomatist, supported him therein with valuable assistance. The little doctor proved to be the most obdurate, he maintained his opinion immovably as though it were some consultation beside a sick-bed. A mixed choral song was also contemplated. In that the fair sex must be especially begged for their co-operation, so as to give a graceful counter-balance to the rough, beery student voices of a few lawyers. The conductor moved about in most amiablegraciosofrom one seaside beauty to another, after having first brushed into order his hair which had been blown about by the sea-breeze. Although this amendment only remained effectual for a short time, still he appeared to advantage before the naturalcoiffuresof most of the land-nymphs who allowed their loosened plaits, which had been dipped in the ocean's waves, to hang down their shoulders to dry. Both the Fräuleins von Dornau, of whom Olga had an imposing alto, Cäcilie a brilliant soprano voice at their disposal, had already made the musical agent happy with their consent, and his next move was to the Baute family, where he might hope for a rich musical harvest amongst the seven daughters.
But music's sister-art, poetry, which had not yet been proclaimed as its Siamese twin, as it was later in the artistic works of the future, must not be omitted. For Neukuhren possessed a much-made-of visitor in the young poet Schöner, who on this occasion must tune his lyre, all the more so because he was a friend of the young betrothed. Her engagement was really tantamount to a refusal for him, and it was a strange suggestion that he should celebrate that refusal with his poetical flowers; but Eva belonged already to his recollections, his love for her was now but a poetical page in his album; the renunciation was no longer hard for him. But another difficulty arose, his muse which was accustomed to sing the dawn of day on the political horizon, and the resurrection of nations, was not adapted for such domestic events; he could not discover the right key for it, such social and drawing-room poetry was not worthy of him, and reduced him to despair. He sprang up from his work-table and with hurried steps walked up and down the room. When he began to compose about roses, he always thought of the sword beneath the roses, the sword of Harmodius and Aristogiton, that he loved to wield in verse against all tyrants, and that which he was used to sing of passion's devouring flames was not fitted for a bridal idyll.
Schöner was obliged to curb his glowing fancy.
At last he had managed to produce a marriage poem, but when he read it over, he was alarmed at the reminiscences of the bridesmaids' wreath of violet silk which had slipped in. Schiller certainly had created no master-piece when he addressed Demoiselle Slevoigt in a nuptial poem--