The conversation ran on thus for some time, the girls recalling with
mingled disgust and delight the school lessons they had had in common,
and a great many of the teacher's uncalled-for remarks. Suddenly
Hulda said: "But you must make haste, Effi; why, you look--why, what
shall I say--why, you look as though you had just come from a cherry
picking, all rumpled and crumpled. Linen always gets so badly creased,
and that large white turned down collar--oh, yes, I have it now; you
look like a cabin boy."
"Midshipman, if you please. I must derive some advantage from my
nobility. But midshipman or cabin boy, only recently papa again
promised me a mast, here close by the swing, with yards and a rope
ladder. Most assuredly I should like one and I should not allow
anybody to interfere with my fastening the pennant at the top. And
you, Hulda, would climb up then on the other side and high in the air
we would shout: 'Hurrah!' and give each other a kiss. By Jingo, that
would be a sweet one."
"'By Jingo.' Now just listen to that. You really talk like a
midshipman. However, I shall take care not to climb up after you, I am
not such a dare-devil. Jahnke is quite right when he says, as he
always does, that you have too much Billing in you, from your mother.
I am only a preacher's daughter."
"Ah, go along. Still waters run deep--But come, let us swing, two on a
side; I don't believe it will break. Or if you don't care to, for you
are drawing long faces again, then we will play hide-and-seek. I still
have a quarter of an hour. I don't want to go in, yet, and anyhow it
is merely to say: 'How do you do?' to a district councillor, and a
district councillor from Further Pomerania to boot. He is elderly,
too. Why he might almost be my father; and if he actually lives in a
seaport, for, you know, that is what Kessin is said to be, I really
ought to make the best impression upon him in this sailor costume, and
he ought almost to consider it a delicate attention. When princes
receive anybody, I know from what papa has told me, they always put on
the uniform of the country of their guest. So don't worry--Quick,
quick, I am going to hide and here by the bench is the base."
Hulda was about to fix a few boundaries, but Effi had already run up
the first gravel walk, turning to the left, then to the right, and
suddenly vanishing from sight. "Effi, that does not count; where are
you? We are not playing run away; we are playing hide-and-seek." With
these and similar reproaches the girls ran to search for her, far
beyond the circular bed and the two plane trees standing by the side
of the path. She first let them get much farther than she was from the
base and then, rushing suddenly from her hiding place, reached the
bench, without any special exertion, before there was time to say:
"one, two, three."
"Where were you?"
"Behind the rhubarb plants; they have such large leaves, larger even
than a fig leaf."
"Shame on you."
"No, shame on you, because you didn't catch me. Hulda, with her big
eyes, again failed to see anything. She is always slow." Hereupon Effi
again flew away across the circle toward the pond, probably because
she planned to hide at first behind a dense-growing hazelnut hedge
over there, and then from that point to take a long roundabout way
past the churchyard and the front house and thence back to the wing
and the base. Everything was well calculated, but before she was half
way round the pond she heard some one at the house calling her name
and, as she turned around, saw her mother waving a handkerchief from
the stone steps. In a moment Effi was standing by her.
"Now you see that I knew what I was talking about. You still have that
smock-frock on and the caller has arrived. You are never on time."
"I shall be on time, easily, but the caller has not kept his
appointment. It is not yet one o'clock, not by a good deal," she said,
and turning to the twins, who had been lagging behind, called to them:
"Just go on playing; I shall be back right away."
The next moment Effi and her mama entered the spacious drawing-room,
which occupied almost the whole ground floor of the side wing.
"Mama, you daren't scold me. It is really only half past. Why does he
come so early? Cavaliers never arrive too late, much less too early."
Mrs. von Briest was evidently embarrassed. But Effi cuddled up to her
fondly and said: "Forgive me, I will hurry now. You know I can be
quick, too, and in five minutes Cinderella will be transformed into a
princess. Meanwhile he can wait or chat with papa."
Bowing to her mother, she was about to trip lightly up the little iron
stairway leading from the drawing-room to the story above. But Mrs.
von Briest, who could be unconventional on occasion, if she took a
notion to, suddenly held Effi back, cast a glance at the charming
young creature, still all in a heat from the excitement of the game, a
perfect picture of youthful freshness, and said in an almost
confidential tone: "After all, the best thing for you to do is to
remain as you are. Yes, don't change. You look very well indeed. And
even if you didn't, you look so unprepared, you show absolutely no
signs of being dressed for the occasion, and that is the most
important consideration at this moment. For I must tell you, my sweet
Effi--" and she clasped her daughter's hands--"for I must tell you--"
"Why, mama, what in the world is the matter with you? You frighten me
terribly."
"I must tell you, Effi, that Baron Innstetten has just asked me for
your hand."
"Asked for my hand? In earnest?"
"That is not a matter to make a jest of. You saw him the day before
yesterday and I think you liked him. To be sure, he is older than you,
which, all things considered, is a fortunate circumstance. Besides, he
is a man of character, position, and good breeding, and if you do not
say 'no,' which I could hardly expect of my shrewd Effi, you will be
standing at the age of twenty where others stand at forty. You will
surpass your mama by far."
Effi remained silent, seeking a suitable answer. Before she could find
one she heard her father's voice in the adjoining room. The next
moment Councillor von Briest, a well preserved man in the fifties, and
of pronounced _bonhomie_, entered the drawing-room, and with him Baron
Innstetten, a man of slender figure, dark complexion, and military
bearing.
When Effi caught sight of him she fell into a nervous tremble, but
only for an instant, as almost at the very moment when he was
approaching her with a friendly bow there appeared at one of the wide
open vine-covered windows the sandy heads of the Jahnke twins, and
Hertha, the more hoidenish, called into the room: "Come, Effi." Then
she ducked from sight and the two sprang from the back of the bench,
upon which they had been standing, down into the garden and nothing
more was heard from them except their giggling and laughing.