_I, too, am not permitted to be happy. The dream is over, I press
my hand to my brow, my head is dizzy with pain._
_But--no--I cannot take the road which has been paved by the hopes
of my one, my only friend! Poor friend--as poor as I!_
_To be sure you have not yet decided, but what decision would be
possible now? I could not live in happiness, while I knew that my
dear John was in despair. Even if you should now lift to my mouth
the cup of joy--I should not dare to take it!_
_I am determined. I renounce everything. I beg only for one thing:
do not think of me with scorn._
_Your devoted_
WILLIAM CIBULKA.
“That’s pure Idiocy,” declared Mrs. Nocar, breaking into uncontrollable
laughter. Anxiously she looked across at Miss Mary.
“Well--truly!” repeated Mrs. Nocar, and sank back in her chair in
meditation.
“Good people--both--anyone can see that. But you don’t know men,
Mitzerl! Such nobility does not last; pretty soon men throw everything
to the wind and think only of themselves. Let it all rest, Mary. They’ll
talk it over together. Rechner is practical, but Cibulka--Cibulka is
madly in love with you. Cibulka will surely come!”
Mary’s eyes took on a dreamy expression. She believed her friend, and
her friend believed her own words. They were both so honest, so free
from suspicion; so unworldly. They would have been deeply shocked, if
they had known it was all a well planned joke.
“Let it alone--he will come. They’ll talk it over together!” assured
Mrs. Nocar when she went away.
Miss Mary waited and her thoughts wove themselves again into the former
visions of happiness.
Miss Mary waited, and month after month passed by. Sometimes when she
took her daily walk she met the two friends. Since they were both quite
indifferent to her, they paid no attention to the meeting. Now it seemed
to her these meetings were too frequent.
“They’ll come around--you’ll soon see,” reassured Mrs. Nocar.
At first Miss Mary thought it proper to lower her eyes, but after a time
she gained courage and looked at them. They described a wide circle
about her, each one bowed most politely and then looked down. Did they
ever observe and understand the wave of questioning in Miss Mary’s eyes?
But I do know that she never once noticed how the two rascals bit their
lips and attempted to keep from smiling.
Thus a year passed. In the meantime Mrs. Nocar heard all sorts of
stories of ill-repute about them. And carefully she told some of them to
her friend. They were degenerate men of bad reputation. Everyone said
they would come to a bad end.
Miss Mary was deeply grieved at these communications. Was she guilty of
any wrong doing herself? Her friend did not know just what to do.
A second long year and they buried Rechner. He died of consumption. Miss
Mary was prostrated. The practical Rechner, as Mrs. Nocar always spoke
of him--and love, had it killed him?
Mrs. Nocar then remarked with a sigh: “Now you have decided! Now Cibulka
will not delay. Now he will come.”
She kissed Mitzerl, who was white and trembling, upon the forehead.
Cibulka did not delay. Four months later he was carried to the graveyard
of Koscher. Inflammation of the lungs caused his death.
It is now more than sixteen years since they have both slept there in
peace.
On All Souls’ Day, for no amount of money in the world, would Miss Mary
decide whose grave she should decorate first. An innocent, five year old
child must make the decision, and wherever the child leads, there the
first wreath is placed.
Beside the graves of Cibulka and Rechner, Miss Mary bought place for a
third grave. People say she has a mania for buying the graves of people
of whom she never heard. Mrs. Magdalene Topper lies in one of these
graves. God rest her soul! She was a good woman. The grave of Mrs.
Topper lies right between the graves of Cibulka and Rechner. I should
insult the intelligence of the reader if I should tell him, why I think
Miss Mary bought the grave.