"Yes," he continued, "what _is_ to be, _will_ be. I thought then the
matter was ended once for all, but the proof of the pudding is in the
eating! That devil of a fellow, with his dove-like eyes, was more
cunning than I. At that time he was living in Berlin, at the same hotel
where I had gone with Luise, a respectable second-rate house in
Mohrenstrasse, for our means did not allow us to go to the Hotel du
Nord or Meinhardt's. She noticed the black-haired gentleman who sat
opposite to us at the table, and talked so well, and he did not seem a
bad fellow to me either. I inquired who he was. An actor, I was told,
who played at the Royal Theatre. 'We must go there once, uncle,' she
said, 'as a matter of courtesy,' and I was weak enough not to say no.
What could I ever refuse her? Especially with her love for the stage.
So we saw him act, and he did not play his part badly; and, as the
women were crazy over him, he had a great success. I have forgotten the
play, I never had much fancy for the theatre; everything always seemed
to me bombastic and exaggerated, and the most touching passages moved
me less than when my Diana gets a thorn into her paw and whines. But he
seemed to please Luise greatly. So I was obliged to go with her three
or four times, when Herr Constantin Spielberg's name was on the bills.
Well, no great misfortune could have come from that. The worst of it
was that Luise caught fire from the flashing sparks he scattered around
him when he stood on the stage in his romantic costumes and assumed the
most melting tones of love. 'Luise,' I said, jestingly, 'you must not
forget that Herr Spielberg did not compose the works of Schiller or
Goethe, but simply acts them. Still, he did not need to declame; when
he was merely sitting at the hotel table, talking about the weather,
she listened as though he was expounding the gospel. And there was
something in his voice that might well turn a young girl's head--she
was twenty-one, but she had never been in love--and even when he was
not behind the footlights he could look as honest and innocent as a
pastor's son or you yourself, Sir Tutor.
"Besides, everybody in the hotel liked him, and no one had anything to
say against him. It was reported that he supported an old blind mother,
etc. But, knowing Luise as I did, the longer this state of things
lasted the less I was pleased, and I gently began to speak of
departure, of course without making any allusion to my own private
reason. Well, to cut the story short, one morning my niece came
to me with a letter in her hand: 'Just think, uncle, what I have
received'--and gave it to me to read. We had no secrets from each
other. It was a declaration of love from our opposite neighbor in due
form--that is, in the Schiller and Goethe style, only not in verse,
closing with a simple honorable offer of marriage. _Nom d'un nom!_ This
was too much for me. I allowed her the choice whether I should give the
bold fellow a verbal answer, such as his insolence deserved, or we
should set off _stante pede_, without bidding him farewell.
"After some consideration she decided in favor of the latter. But when
we were on our way she said, 'Uncle, I was too hasty. He will always
think me an arrogant fool. I ought to have answered him myself.' 'And
what would you have said?' 'That I felt honored by his proposal, but
was under the guardianship of my uncle, who would never consent to this
alliance.' 'The deuce!' I cried; 'that would have been almost the same
thing as a declaration of love.' 'What then?' she asked, quietly. 'Is
there anything degrading in loving a noble man, merely because he
belongs to a class against which people in our circle are unjustly
prejudiced?' 'Well, this beats the Old Nick!' I thought, but did not
say one word, for I knew that fire is only fanned by blowing upon it,
and thought, 'It will die away into ashes when it has no food.' Now you
see what a confoundedly clever prophet I was."
During Uncle Joachim's story, I had sat in the chair Fraeulein Luise
usually occupied, and patiently endured everything like a person who is
crossing the fields in a pouring rain without an umbrella, and feels
that he is drenched to the skin and can be no worse off. Every spark of
hope had vanished; I knew that she would never turn back from the path
she had entered; and, even if it were possible, she would be too proud
to desire to do so. But man is so constituted that, though I foresaw
all the misery of the future, for I did not trust the handsome face of
the man to whom she had fled, and I knew by this step she had forfeited
her right to be received into her chapter in case of need, in short,
though I saw nothing in prospect for her save trouble and grief--the
bitterest thing of all to me was to find my own dreams and wishes,
which hitherto I had never acknowledged to myself, shattered at one
blow. The most frantic jealousy of the happy man, who had won the bride
forever unattainable to me, burned in my miserable soul, now suddenly
bankrupt; and, when it flashed upon my mind that I had even been her
accomplice by deferring the discovery of her flight as long as possible
through my organ-music, I felt so utterly wretched that I suddenly
burst into Boyish sobbing, in which offended vanity, wounded love, and
grief for the uncertain fate of the woman so dear to me, bore an equal
share.
Just at that moment I felt Uncle Joachim's hand press heavily on my
shoulder.
"Hold up your head and don't flinch, my friend," he said, in a voice
that was by no means firm. "We can't change the matter now, so we must
let it go. But we must always repeat to ourselves one thing: whatever
folly a woman like her may commit, she will not allow herself to
succumb to it. She may lose the right scent once, like Diana, but
she'll find it again--I feel no anxiety on that score. The only people
who will surfer and can get no amends are ourselves--or rather, I mean,
my own insignificant self. You are a young man, still have life before
you, and--which I can't say of myself--are a devout Christian. But an
old fellow like me, who is robbed of his only plaything--deuce take it!
It will be a dog's life!"
He had put on his coat and now whistled to Diana. "Excuse me, Herr
Candidate, I have some business to attend to. Stay quietly here till
your eyes are dry. I'm disgusted with the old barrack, since we can
expect no more pound-cake here."
He went out, carrying his gun upside down and followed by Diana, whose
ears drooped mournfully, as if she shared her master's mood.