“What is more, Eva has been here.”
“Has she been here? In the hut?”
“More than once. I made her go in. We talked together.”
“Here too?”
Pause. “Be firm!” I said to myself; and then, aloud:
“Since you are so kind as to mix yourself up in my affairs, I will not
be behindhand. I suggested yesterday that you should take the Doctor;
have you thought it over? For really, you know, the prince is simply
impossible.”
Her eyes lit with anger. “He is not, I tell you,” she cried
passionately. “No, he is better than you; he can move about in a house
without breaking cups and glasses; he leaves my shoes alone. Yes! He
knows how to move in society; but you are ridiculous--I am ashamed of
you--you are unendurable--do you understand that?”
Her words struck deep; I bowed my head and said:
“You are right; I am not good at moving in society. Be merciful. You do
not understand me; I live in the woods by choice--that is my happiness.
Here, where I am all alone, it can hurt no one that I am as I am; but
when I go among others, I have to use all my will power to be as I
should. For two years now I have been so little among people at all...”
“There's no saying what mad thing you will do next,” she went on. “And
it is intolerable to be constantly looking after you.”
How mercilessly she said it! A very bitter pain passed through me. I
almost toppled before her violence. Edwarda had not yet done; she went
on:
“You might get Eva to look after you, perhaps. It's a pity though, that
she's married.”
“Eva! Eva married, did you say?”
“Yes, married!”
“Why, who is her husband?”
“Surely you know that. She is the blacksmith's wife.”
“I thought she was his daughter.”
“No, she is his wife. Do you think I am lying to you?”
I had not thought about it at all; I was simply astonished. I just stood
there thinking: Is Eva married?
“So you have made a happy choice,” says Edwarda.
Well, there seemed no end to the business. I was trembling with
indignation, and I said:
“But you had better take the Doctor, as I said. Take a friend's advice;
that prince of yours is an old fool.” And in my excitement I lied about
him, exaggerated his age, declared he was bald, that he was almost
totally blind; I asserted, moreover, that he wore that coronet thing in
his shirt front wholly and solely to show off his nobility. “As for me,
I have not cared to make his acquaintance, there is nothing in him of
mark at all; he lacks the first principles; he is nothing.”
“But he is something, he is something,” she cried, and her voice broke
with anger. “He is far more than you think, you thing of the woods. You
wait. Oh, he shall talk to you--I will ask him myself. You don't believe
I love him, but you shall see you are mistaken. I will marry him; I will
think of him night and day. Mark what I say: I love him. Let Eva come if
she likes--hahaha! Heavens, let her come--it is less than nothing to me.
And now let me get away from here...”
She began walking down the path from the hut; she took a few small
hurried steps, turned round, her face still pale as death, and moaned:
“And let me never see your face again.”