At the home of the Chief of all the foresters, the talked-of family
fete for which Wallmoden and his young wife had expressly come, had
taken place according to programme, and the lord of Burgsdorf and
Antonie von Schonan were formally betrothed.
The young couple had long known that they were intended for each other,
and were perfectly contented therewith.
Willibald, like a good son, was still of the opinion that the selection
of his future wife was solely the business of his mother, and he had
quietly waited until she found it convenient to betroth him. Still it
was agreeable to him that it was just Cousin Toni he was to marry.
He had known her since their childhood; she suited him admirably, and
what was of some importance, she made no demands for the romantic part
of the engagement, which, with the best will in the world, he could not
have complied with.
Toni exhibited the good taste which Frau Regine credited her with.
Willy pleased her very much, and the prospect of becoming mistress of
stately Burgsdorf pleased her still better. So all was in perfect
accord.
The betrothed couple were at present in the reception room where the
piano stood and Antonie was entertaining her betrothed with music at
the request of her father. She herself considered music a very tiresome
and superfluous affair; but the Chief Forester had insisted that his
daughter should demonstrate not only her ability as a housekeeper, but
that she had also been educated in the higher arts.
He was walking up and down the terrace with his sister-in-law, with the
original intention of listening to the music, but instead of that they
were quarreling again, although they had started out with a peaceful
conversation about the happiness of the children. This time the quarrel
seemed to be of a very violent nature.
"I really do not know what to think of you, Moritz," said Frau von
Eschenhagen with a very red face. "You do not seem to have any sense of
the impropriety of this acquaintance. When I ask you who this bosom
friend of Toni's really is--the one who is expected at Waldhofen--you
answer me in the calmest manner possible that she is a singer, and
recently engaged at the Court Theatre. An actress! a theatre princess!
one of those frivolous creatures----"
"But, Regine, do not get so excited," interrupted von Schonan vexedly.
"You act as though the poor thing was already lost body and soul,
because she has appeared on the stage."
"So she is," declared Regine; "whoever once enters this Sodom and
Gomorrah is not to be saved--they go to their ruin there."
"Very flattering to our Court Theatre," said Schonan drily. "Besides,
all of us go there."
"As audience--that is quite different. But I have always been against
it. Willy has been allowed to attend the theatre but seldom, and then
only in my company; but while I fulfil my maternal duty,
conscientiously protecting my son from any touch with those circles,
you give his future wife over freely to their poisonous influences. It
is worthy of a cry to heaven!"
Her voice had grown very loud, partly through indignation and partly
that she might be heard, for the musical performance in the room, whose
glass doors stood wide open, was of a rather loud nature.
The young lady had a somewhat hard touch and her performance reminded
one of the working of an ax in hard wood. Although her three listeners
had strong nerves, a low conversation had become an impossibility.
"Let me explain this matter to you," said the Chief Forester
pacifyingly. "I have already told you that this case is an exception.
Marietta Volkmar is the granddaughter of our good old physician at
Waldhofen. He had the misfortune to lose his son in the prime of
life--the young widow followed her husband in the next year, and their
child, the little orphan, came to her grandfather. That happened when I
was promoted here to Furstenstein, ten years ago. Dr. Volkmar became my
house physician; his granddaughter the playmate of my children, and
because the school in Waldhofen was very poor, I offered to let the
little one participate in the lessons of my children. The friendship
dates from then.
"Later on, when Toni was sent to boarding school for two years, and
Marietta went to the city for her musical education, this daily
intercourse was, of course, broken, but Marietta visits us regularly
when she comes to her grandfather during her vacations, and I do not
see why I should prohibit it as long as the girl remains good and
true."
Frau von Eschenhagen had listened to the explanation without abating
her severity in the least, and now she laughed ironically.
"Good and true at the theatre! One knows how things go there, but you
seem to take it just as easy as this Dr. Volkmar, who looks so
venerable with his white hair, and yet consents to his granddaughter--a
young soul entrusted to his care--going on the path to destruction."
Herr von Schonan made an impatient gesture.
"Regine, you are usually such a sensible woman, but you have never
wished to be reasonable on this point. The theatre and everything
connected with it has always been under a ban to you. The decision has
not been an easy one for the doctor. I know that; and if one like me
can sit in the warm nest and support one's children, one should not
break the staff over other parents who struggle with bitter cares.
Volkmar still works night and day with all his seventy years, but the
practice brings him but little, for our vicinity is poor, and Marietta
will be quite without means after his death."
"She ought to have become a governess or companion, then; that is a
decent vocation."
"But a miserable vocation. One knows well how the poor things are
treated and overworked. If a child of mine, whom I loved, had to decide
her lot in life, and it was told me that she had a fortune in her
throat and that a splendid future was assured her--well, I should let
her go on the stage, depend upon that."
This confession knocked the bottom out of the barrel. Frau Regine stood
for a moment quite still in affright; then she said solemnly: "Moritz,
I shudder at you."
"I don't care. If it gives you any pleasure to shudder, keep at it; but
if Marietta comes to Furstenstein as usual, I shall not repulse her,
and I also have nothing against Toni's going to see her in Waldhofen."
Herr von Schonan had also to speak very loud, for his daughter was
pounding the keys so that the windows rattled, and the strings of the
piano were seriously endangered. The Chief Forester, while in the heat
of the controversy, noticed this as little as did his sister-in-law,
who now replied with much sharpness:
"Well, then, it is at least a good thing that Toni is to marry soon.
Then the friendship with this theatre princess will come to an end,
depend upon that. Such guests are not suffered at our respectable
Burgsdorf, and Willy will not allow his wife the correspondence which
seems now to be going on at a lively rate."
"That means that _you_ will not allow it," shouted von Schonan,
mockingly. "Willy has nothing to forbid or allow; he is only the
obedient servant of his gracious Frau Mamma. It is unjustifiable how
you keep that boy under your thumb when he is of age, betrothed, and
soon to be a husband."
Frau von Eschenhagen, offended, straightened herself.
"I believe I am more conscientious with my responsibilities than you
are. Do you wish to reproach me for raising my son with filial
reverence and love?"
"Oh, well; there is a point where conscientiousness ceases and
maltreating commences. You have already made Willy quite silly
with your eternal supervision. He did not dare to even propose on his
own account; when the matter began to get too long for you, you
interfered as usual. 'Why these preliminaries, children? You shall
have each other--you wish it, your parents consent, you have my
blessing--therefore kiss each other and bring the thing to an end.'
That is your standpoint. I, too, had filial reverence and affection,
but if my parents had come into my wooing like that they would have
heard something very different. But Willy accepted it calmly. I truly
believe he was glad that he did not have to make a formal proposal."
The excitement of the twain had again risen to the boiling point, and
it was now well that the noise inside had so increased that they could
not hear each other further.
Fraulein Antonie had strength at least in her hands, and as she seemed
to consider that the most important thing, her performance sounded as
if a regiment of soldiers were storming an attack.
It was too much for her father. He suddenly broke off the conversation
and entered the room.
"But, Toni, you do not need to break the new piano," he said with
vexation. "What piece are you playing?"
Toni sat at the piano, laboring in the sweat of her brow; not far
removed sat her betrothed upon a sofa, his head supported by his arm
and eyes shaded by his hand, apparently quite entranced with the music.
The young lady turned at her father's question and said in her usual
slow voice, "I was playing the March of the Janissaries, papa. I
thought it would please Willy, since he, too, has been a soldier."
"So? But he served as a dragoon," muttered Schonan, approaching his
future son-in-law, who did not seem to appreciate the delicate
attention, for he gave no sign of approval.
"Willy, what do you say to it? Willy, do you not hear? I actually
believe he has fallen asleep."
Alas! the supposition proved correct. While the March of the
Janissaries thundered over the keys, Willy had softly and sweetly
fallen asleep, slumbering so soundly that he did not even now awake.
This seemed too much for his mother, who had also approached. She
grasped his arm sharply.
"But, Willy, whatever does this mean? Are you not ashamed of yourself?"
The young lord, shaken and scolded on all sides, finally aroused
himself and sleepily gazed around. "What--what shall I---- Yes, it was
beautiful, dear Toni."
"I believe it," cried the Chief with an angry laugh. "Do not trouble
yourself to play any more, my child. Come, we will let your groom-elect
have his nap out in peace. He has good nerves; one must confess that."
Saying which he took his daughter's arm and left the room, where the
fullest maternal wrath now broke over poor Willibald. Frau von
Eschenhagen, already provoked by the preceding conversation, did not
spare her son, but justified only too well the reproaches of her
brother-in-law. She scolded the engaged and soon-to-be-a-husband young
man like a schoolboy.
"This surpasses everything conceivable," she concluded in highest
indignation. "Your father was not very much at courting, but if he,
after two days' betrothal, had fallen asleep while I was entertaining
him with my music, I should have aroused him very unceremoniously. Now,
do you go immediately to your fiancee and beg her pardon. She is quite
right to feel offended."
With which she grasped him by the shoulder and pushed him very
emphatically toward the door.
Willy accepted it all very humbly and remorsefully, for he was indeed
shocked at his untimely slumber; but he could not help it--he had been
so sleepy and the music was so wearying.
Quite crushed, he entered the next room, where Toni stood, rather
offended, at the window.
"Dear Toni, do not think hard of me," he began hesitatingly; "it was so
hot and your playing had something so pacifying."
Toni turned. That this march, with her playing of it, should be
pacifying was new to her; but when she saw the crushed mien of her
betrothed, who stood like a prisoner before her, her good nature
conquered, and she held out her hand.
"No, I am not angry with you, Willy," she said cordially. "I do not
care either for the stupid music. We will do something more sensible
when we are at Burgsdorf."
"Yes, that we will," exclaimed Willy, joyfully pressing the offered
hand. He had not yet aspired to even a kiss upon the hand. "You are so
good, Toni."
When Frau von Eschenhagen entered soon afterward, she found the couple
in perfect harmony, engaged in a highly interesting conversation about
dairy affairs, which were somewhat different in the two localities of
Burgsdorf and Furstenstein. This was a subject over which Willy did not
fall asleep, and his mother congratulated herself secretly upon this
splendid daughter-in-law, who showed no inconvenient sensitiveness.
The young man found opportunity almost directly to prove himself
grateful for the indulgence of his betrothed. Toni complained that a
package which she had ordered and which was needed for the supper table
had not yet come. It had arrived safely at the post office, but, it
seemed, with a wrong address, and had not been delivered to the
messenger, who in the meantime had been dispatched elsewhere. No other
servant was at liberty to go, and the time of need for it was drawing
near. Willibald hastened to offer his services, which were joyfully
accepted by his fiancee.