Early the following morning the Captain examined the spot: he first
threw off a sketch of what should be done, and afterward, when the thing
had been more completely decided on, he made a complete design, with
accurate calculations and measurements. It cost him a good deal of
labor, and the business connected with the sale of the farm had to be
gone into, so that both the gentlemen now found a fresh impulse to
activity.
The Captain made Edward observe that it would be proper, indeed that it
would be a kind of duty, to celebrate Charlotte's birthday with laying
the foundation-stone. Not much was wanted to overcome Edward's
disinclination for such festivities--for he quickly recollected that a
little later Ottilie's birthday would follow, and that he could have a
magnificent celebration for that.
Charlotte, to whom all this work and what it would involve was a subject
for much serious and almost anxious thought, busied herself in carefully
going through the time and outlay which it was calculated would be
expended on it. During the day they rarely saw each other, so that the
evening meeting was looked forward to with all the more anxiety.
Ottilie meantime was complete mistress of the household--and how could
it be otherwise, with her quick methodical rays of working? Indeed, her
whole mode of thought was suited better to home life than to the world,
and to a more free existence. Edward soon observed that she only walked
about with them out of a desire to please; that when she stayed out late
with them in the evening it was because she thought it a sort of social
duty, and that she would often find a pretext in some household matter
for going in again--consequently he soon managed so to arrange the walks
which they took together, that they should be at home before sunset; and
he began again, what he had long left off, to read aloud
poetry--particularly such as had for its subject the expression of a
pure but passionate love.
They ordinarily sat in the evening in the same places round a small
table--Charlotte on the sofa, Ottilie on a chair opposite to her, and
the gentlemen on each side. Ottilie's place was on Edward's right, the
side where he put the candle when he was reading--at such times she
would draw her chair a little nearer to look over him, for Ottilie also
trusted her own eyes better than another person's lips, and Edward would
then always make a move toward her, that it might be as easy as possible
for her--indeed he would frequently make longer stops than necessary,
that he might not turn over before she had got to the bottom of the
page.
Charlotte and the Captain observed this, and exchanged many a quiet
smile at it; but they were both taken by surprise at another symptom, in
which Ottilie's latent feeling accidentally displayed itself.
One evening, which had been partly spoilt for them by a tedious visit,
Edward proposed that they should not separate so early--he felt inclined
for music--he would take his flute, which he had not done for many days
past. Charlotte looked for the sonatas which they generally played
together, and they were not to be found. Ottilie, with some hesitation,
said that they were in her room--she had taken them there to copy them.
"And you can, you will, accompany me on the piano?" cried Edward, his
eyes sparkling with pleasure. "I think perhaps I can," Ottilie answered.
She brought the music and sat down to the instrument. The others
listened, and were sufficiently surprised to hear how perfectly Ottilie
had taught herself the piece--but far more surprised were they at the
way in which she contrived to adapt herself to Edward's style of
playing. Adapt herself, is not the right expression--Charlotte's skill
and power enabled her, in order to please her husband, to keep up with
him when he went too fast, and hold in for him if he hesitated; but
Ottilie, who had several times heard them play the sonata together,
seemed to have learnt it according to the idea in which they accompanied
each other--she had so completely made his defects her own, that a kind
of living whole resulted from it, which did not move indeed according to
exact rule, but the effect of which was in the highest degree pleasant
and delightful. The composer himself would have been pleased to hear his
work disfigured in a manner so charming.
Charlotte and the Captain watched this strange unexpected occurrence in
silence, with the kind of feeling with which we often observe the
actions of children--unable exactly to approve of them, from the serious
consequences which may follow, and yet without being able to find fault,
perhaps with a kind of envy. For, indeed, the regard of these two for
one another was growing also, as well as that of the others--and it was
perhaps only the more perilous because they were both stronger, more
certain of themselves, and better able to restrain themselves.
The Captain had already begun to feel that a habit which he could not
resist was threatening to bind him to Charlotte. He forced himself to
stay away at the hour when she commonly used to be at the works; by
getting up very early in the morning he contrived to finish there
whatever he had to do, and went back to the castle to his work in his
own room. The first day or two Charlotte thought it was an accident--she
looked for him in every place where she thought he could possibly be.
Then she thought she understood him--and admired him all the more.
Avoiding, as the Captain now did, being alone with Charlotte, the more
industriously did he labor to hurry forward the preparations for keeping
her rapidly-approaching birthday with all splendor. While he was
bringing up the new road from below behind the village, he made the men,
under pretence that he wanted stones, begin working at the top as well,
and work down, to meet the others; and he had calculated his
arrangements so that the two should exactly meet on the eve of the day.
The excavations for the new house were already done; the rock was blown
away with gunpowder; and a fair foundation-stone had been hewn, with a
hollow chamber, and a flat slab adjusted to cover it.
This outward activity, these little mysterious purposes of friendship,
prompted by feelings which more or less they were obliged to repress,
rather prevented the little party when together from being as lively as
usual. Edward, who felt that there was a sort of void, one evening
called upon the Captain to fetch his violin--Charlotte should play the
piano, and he should accompany her. The Captain was unable to refuse the
general request, and they executed together one of the most difficult
pieces of music with an ease, and freedom, and feeling, which could not
but afford themselves, and the two who were listening to them, the
greatest delight. They promised themselves a frequent repetition of it,
as well as further practice together. "They do it better than we,
Ottilie," said Edward; "we will admire them--but we can enjoy ourselves
together too."