What the Princess Ludwig thought of her new place it would be difficult
to say. She accepted her position as minister to the comforts of the
hitherto comfortless without remark and entirely as a matter of course.
She got up at hours exemplary in their earliness, and was about the
house rattling a bunch of keys all day long. She was wholly practical,
and as destitute of illusions as she was of education in the ordinary
sense. Her knowledge of German literature was hardly more extensive than
Letty's, and of other tongues and other literatures she knew and cared
nothing. As for illusions, she saw things as they are, and had never at
any period of her life possessed enthusiasms. Nor had she the least
taste for hidden meanings and symbols. Maeterlinck, if she had heard of
him, would have been dismissed by her with an easy smile. Anna's
whitewash to her was whitewash; a disagreeable but economical
wall-covering. She knew and approved of it as cheap; how could she dream
that it was also symbolic? She never dreamed at all, either sleeping or
waking. If by some chance she had fallen into musings, she would have
mused blood and iron, the superiority of the German nation, cookery in
its three forms _feine_, _bürgerliche_, and _Hausmannskost_, in all
which forms she was preëminent in skill--she would have mused, that is,
on facts, plain and undisputed. If she had had children she would have
made an excellent mother; as it was she made excellent cakes--also a
form of activity to be commended. She was a Dettingen before her
marriage, and the Dettingens are one of the oldest Prussian families,
and have produced more first-rate soldiers and statesmen and a larger
number of mothers of great men than any other family in that part. The
Penheims and Dettingens had intermarried continually, and it was to his
mother's Dettingen blood that the first Fürst Penheim owed the
energy that procured him his elevation. Princess Ludwig was a good
example of the best type of female Dettingen. Like many other
illiterates, she prided herself particularly on her sturdy common sense.
Regarding this quality, which she possessed, as more precious than
others which she did not possess, she was not likely to sympathise much
either with Anna's plan for making people happy, or with those who were
willing to be made happy in such a way. A sensible woman, she thought,
will always find work, and need not look far for a home. She herself had
been handicapped in the search by her unfortunate title, yet with
patience even she had found a haven. Only the lazy and lackadaisical,
the morally worthless, that is, would, she was convinced, accept such an
offer as Anna's. It was not, however, her business. Her business was to
look after Anna's house; and she did it with a zeal and thoroughness
that struck terror into the hearts of the maid-servants. Trudi's fitful
energy was nothing to it. Trudi had introduced workmen and chaos; the
princess, with a rapidity and skill little short of amazing to anyone
unacquainted with the capabilities of the well-trained German
_Hausfrau_, cleared out the workmen and reduced the chaos to order.
Within three weeks the house was ready, and Anna, palpitating, saw the
moment approaching when the first batch of unhappy ones might be
received.
Manske's time was entirely taken up writing letters of inquiry
concerning the applicants, and it was surprising in what huge batches
they had to be weeded out. Of fifty applications received in one day,
three or four, after due inquiry, would alone remain for further
consideration; and of these three or four, after yet closer inquiry,
sometimes not one would be left.
At first Anna asked the princess's advice as well as Manske's, and it
was when she was present at the consultations that the heap into which
the letters of the unworthy were gathered was biggest. All those ladies
belonging to the _bürgerliche_ or middle classes were in her eyes wholly
unworthy. If Anna had proposed to take washerwomen into her home, and
required the princess's help in brightening their lives, it would have
been given in the full measure, pressed down and running over, that
befits a Christian gentlewoman; but for the _Bürgerlichen_, those
belonging to the class more immediately below her own, the princess's
feeling was only Christian so long as they kept a great way off. There
was so much good sense in the objections she made that Anna, who did her
best to keep an open mind and listen attentively to advice, was forced
to agree with her, and added letters to the ever-increasing heap of the
rejected which she might otherwise have reserved for riper
consideration. After two or three days, however, it became clear to her
that if she continued to consult the princess, no one would be accepted
at all, for Manske's respect for that lady was so profound that he was
invariably of her opinion. She did not, therefore, invite her again to
assist at the interviews. Still, all she had said, and the knowledge
that she must know her own countrywomen fairly thoroughly, made Anna
prudent; and so it came about that the first arrivals were to be only
three in number, chosen without reference to the princess, and one of
them was _bürgerlich_.
"We can meanwhile proceed with our inquiries about the remaining nine,"
said Manske, "and the gracious Miss will be always gaining experience."
She trod on air during the days preceding the arrival of the chosen. To
say that she was blissful would be but an inadequate description of her
state of mind. The weather was beautiful, and it increased her happiness
tenfold to know that their new life was to begin in sunshine. She had
never a doubt as to their delight in the sun-chequered forest, in the
freshness of the glittering sea, in the peacefulness of the quiet
country life, so quiet that the week seemed to be all Sundays. Were not
these things sufficient for herself? Did she ever tire of those long
pine vistas, with the narrow strip of clearest blue between the gently
waving tree-tops? The dreamy murmur of the forest gave her an exquisite
pleasure. To see the bloom on the pink and grey trunks of the pines, and
the sun on the moss and lichen beneath, was so deep a satisfaction to
her soul that the thought that others who had been knocked about by life
would not feel it too, would not enter with profoundest thankfulness
into this other world of peace, never struck her at all. When these poor
tired women, freed at last from every care and every anxiety, had
refreshed themselves with the music and fragrance of the forest, there
was the garden across the road to enjoy, with the marsh already strewn
with kingcups on the other side of the hedge already turning green; and
the sea with the fishing-smacks passing up and down, and the silver
gleam of gulls' wings circling round the orange sails, and eagles
floating high up aloft, specks in the infinite blue; and then there were
drives along the coast towards the north, where the wholesome wind blew
fresher than in the woods; and quiet evenings in the roomy house, where
all that was asked of them was that they should be happy.
"It's a lovely plan, isn't it, Letty?" she said joyously, the evening
before they were to arrive, as she stood with her arm round Letty's
shoulder at the bottom of the garden, where they had both been watching
the sails of the fishing-smacks during those short sunset moments when
they looked like the bright wings of spirits moving over the face of the
placid waters.
"I should rather think it was," replied Letty, who was profoundly
interested.
They got up at sunrise the next morning, and went out into the forest in
search of hepaticas and windflowers with which to decorate the three
bedrooms. These bedrooms were the largest and pleasantest in the house.
Anna had given up her own because she thought the windows particularly
pleasing, and had gone into a little one in the fervour of her desire to
lavish all that was best on her new friends. The rooms were furnished
with special care, an immense amount of thought having been bestowed on
the colour of the curtains, the pattern of the porcelain, and the books
filling the shelves above each writing-table. The colours and patterns
were the nearest approach Berlin could produce to Anna's own favourite
colours and patterns. She wasted half her time, when the rooms were
ready, sitting in them and picturing what her own delight would have
been if she, like the poor ladies for whom they were intended, had come
straight out of a cold, unkind world into such pretty havens.
The choice of books had been a great difficulty, and there had been much
correspondence on the subject with Berlin before a selection had been
made. Books there must be, for no room, she thought, was habitable
without them; and she had tried to imagine what manner of literature
would most appeal to her unhappy ones. It was to be presumed that their
ages were such as to exclude frivolity; therefore she bought very few
novels. She thought Dickens translated into German would be a safe
choice; also Schlegel's Shakespeare for loftier moments. The German
classics were represented by Goethe in one room, Schiller in another,
and Heine in the third. In each room also there was a German-English
dictionary, for the facilitation of intercourse. Finally, she asked the
princess to recommend something they would be sure to like, and she
recommended cookery books.
"But they are not going to cook," said Anna, surprised.
"_Es ist egal_--it is always interesting to read good recipes. No other
reading affords me the same pleasure."
"But only when you want something new cooked."
"No, no, at all times," insisted the princess.
Anna could not quite believe that such a taste was general; but in case
one of the three should share it, she put a cookery book in one
bookcase. In the other two severally to balance it, she slipt at the
last moment a volume of Maeterlinck, to which at that period she was
greatly attached; and Matthew Arnold's poems, to which also at that
period she was greatly attached.
The princess went about with pursed lips while these preparations were
in progress; and when, at sunrise on the last morning, she was awakened
by stealthy footsteps and smothered laughter on the landing outside her
room, and, opening her door an inch and peering out as in duty bound in
case the sounds should be emanating from some unaccountably mirthful
maid-servant, she saw Anna and Letty creeping downstairs with their hats
on and baskets in their hands, she guessed what they were going to do,
and got back into bed with lips more pursed than ever. Did she not know
who had been chosen, and that one of the three was a _Bürgerliche_?
About eight o'clock, when the two girls were coming out of the forest
with their baskets full and their faces happy, Axel Lohm was riding
thoughtfully past, having just settled an unpleasant business at
Kleinwalde. Dellwig had sent him an urgent message in the small hours;
there had been a brawl among the labourers about a woman, and a man had
been stabbed. Axel had ordered the aggressor to be locked up in the
little room that served as a temporary prison till he could be handed
over to the Stralsund authorities. His wife, a girl of twenty, was ill,
and she and her three small children depended entirely on the man's
earnings. The victim appeared to be dying, and the man would certainly
be punished. What, then, thought Axel, was to become of the wife and the
children? Frau Dellwig had told him that she sent soup every day at
dinner-time, but soup once a day would neither comfort them nor make
them fat. Besides, he had a notion that the soup of Frau Dellwig's
charity was very thin. He was riding dejectedly enough down the road on
his way home, looking straight before him, his mouth a mere grim line,
thinking how grievous it was that the consequences of sin should fall
with their most terrific weight nearly always on the innocent, on the
helpless women-folk and the weak little children, when Anna and Letty
appeared, talking and laughing, on the edge of the forest.
Letty, we know, had not been kindly treated by nature, but even she was
a pleasing object in her harmless morning cheerfulness after the faces
he had just seen; and Anna's beauty, made radiant by happiness and
contentment, startled him. He had a momentary twinge, gone almost before
he had realised it, a sudden clear conception of his great loneliness.
The satisfaction he strove to extract from improving his estate for the
benefit of his brother Gustav appeared to him at that moment to bear a
singular resemblance, in its thinness, to Frau Dellwig's charitable
soup. He got off his horse to speak to her, and rested his eyes, tired
by looking at the hideous passions on the brawler's face, on hers.
"To-day is the important day, is it not?" he asked, glancing from her
flower-like face to the flowers.
"The first three come this afternoon."
"So Manske told me. You are very happy, I can see," he said, smiling.
"I never was so happy before."
"Your uncle was a wise man. He told me he was going to leave you
Kleinwalde because he felt sure you would be happy leading the simple
life here."
"Did he talk about me to you?"
"After his last visit to England he talked about you all the time."
"Oh?" said Anna, looking at him thoughtfully. Uncle Joachim, she
remembered perfectly, had urged two things--the leading of the better
life, and the marrying of a good German gentleman. A faint flush came
into her face and faded again. She had suddenly become aware that Axel
was the good German gentleman he had meant. Well, the wisest uncle was
subject to errors of judgment.
"I trust those women will not worry you too much," he said, thinking how
immense would be the pity if those happy eyes ever lost their
joyousness.
"Worry me? Poor things, they won't have any energy of any sort left
after all they have gone through. I never read such pitiful letters."
"Well, I don't know," said Axel doubtfully. "Manske says one of them is
a Treumann. It is a family distinguished by its size and its
disagreeableness."
"Oh, but she only married a Treumann, and isn't one herself."
"But a woman generally adopts the peculiarities of the family she
marries into, especially if they are unpleasant."
"But she has been a widow for years. And is so poor. And is so crushed."
"I never yet heard of a permanently crushed Treumann," said Axel,
shaking his head.
"You are trying to make me uneasy," said Anna, a slight touch of
impatience in her voice. She was singularly sensitive about her chosen
ones; sensitive in the way mothers are about a child that is deformed.
"No, no," he said quickly, "I only wish to warn you. You maybe
disappointed--it is just possible." He could not bear to think of her as
disappointed.
"Pray, do you know anything against the other two?" she asked with some
defiance. "One of them is a Baroness Elmreich, and the other is a
Fräulein Kuhräuber."
Axel looked amused. "I never heard of Fräulein Kuhräuber," he said.
"What does Princess Ludwig say to her coming?"
"Nothing at all. What should she say?"
It was Fräulein Kuhräuber's coming that had more particularly occasioned
the pursing of the princess's lips.
"I know some Elmreichs," said Axel. "A few of them are respectable; but
one branch at least of the family is completely demoralised. A Baron
Elmreich shot himself last year because he had been caught cheating at
cards. And one of his sisters--oh, well, some of them are harmless, I
believe."
"Thank you."
"You are angry with me?"
"Very."
"And why?"
"You want to prejudice me against these poor things. They can't help
what distant relations do. They will get away from them in my house, at
least, and have peace."
"Miss Letty, is your aunt often--what is the word--so fractious?"
"Oh, I don't know," said Letty, who found it dull waiting in silence
while other people talked. "It's breakfast time, you know, and people
can't stand much just about then."
"Oh, youthful philosopher!" exclaimed Axel. "So young, and of the female
sex, and yet to have pierced to the very root of human weakness!"
"Stuff," said Letty, offended.
"What, are you going to be angry too? Then let me get on my horse and
go."
"It's the best thing you can do," said Letty, always frank, but doubly
so when she was hungry.
"Shall you come and see us soon?" Anna asked, gathering up her skirts in
her one free hand, preparatory to crossing the muddy road.
"But you are angry with me."
She looked up and laughed. "Not now," she said; "I've finished. Do you
think I'm going to be angry long this pleasant April morning?"
"I smell the coffee," observed Letty, sniffing.
"Then I will come to-morrow if I may," said Axel, "and make the
acquaintance of Frau von Treumann and Baroness Elmreich."
"And Fräulein Kuhräuber," said Anna, with emphasis. She thought she saw
the same tendency in him that was so manifest in the princess, a
tendency to ignore the very existence of any one called Kuhräuber.
"And Fräulein Kuhräuber," repeated Axel gravely.
"They've burnt the toast again," said Letty; "I can hear them scraping
off the black."
"I wish you good luck, then," said Axel, taking off his hat; "with all
my heart I wish you good luck, and that these ladies may very soon be as
happy as you are yourself."
"That's nice," said Anna, approvingly; "so much, much nicer than the
other things you have been saying." And she nodded to him, all smiles,
as she crossed over to the house and he rode away.