Her father and mother instantly acceded to Elizabeth's request; and she
hastened back to the castle to carry to Miss Mertens their cordial
invitation. The governess, when Elizabeth entered her room, was leaning
with folded hands against the wall. At her feet stood a trunk half
packed, closets and wardrobes were wide open, and the chairs were heaped
with books, dresses, and linen. The young girl hastened to her friend,
threw her arms around her, and looked into her face, which, while it
bore traces of tears, was beaming with happiness.
"I am so astounded by the sudden change in my lot," said Miss Mertens,
after Elizabeth had offered her congratulations, "that I am obliged to
close my eyes how and then and collect my senses. Only this morning
everything seemed so dark before me,--I actually could not tell where to
go,--the ground seemed slipping from under my feet. And just in the
midst of my anxiety a home is suddenly provided for me. A man whom I
esteem thoroughly, but whose regard for the poor governess I had never
suspected, will be forever faithful to me, and I can fulfill the warmest
desire of my heart and have my dear good mother to live with me! What
will she say when she receives the news,--she, who has suffered so much
in thinking that I must battle with the storms of life alone, and that
she could not recall me to her loving heart!"
She told Elizabeth that in a few weeks Reinhard would go to England for
her mother. His employer had himself proposed the journey, and insisted
upon defraying all the expenses. Whenever Miss Mertens mentioned Herr
von Walde the tears filled her eyes,--she declared that all the wrong
done her by the baroness was more than overbalanced by his kindness and
generosity; he could not endure to have any one beneath his roof suffer
injustice. Elizabeth completed the measure of her happiness by the
invitation which she brought. Miss Mertens had intended to go to the
little village inn until she could find lodgings.
"But now we will go to your house together as soon as possible," she
said, her face beaming with joy. "The baroness, a short time ago, sent
me my salary, requesting that I would not again enter her presence, and
Bella passed through my room without even looking at me,--that grieves
me, grieves me very deeply, for I have cherished her like the apple of
my eye. Her health used to be very delicate, and while her mother has
been absent, attending the court balls, I have sat by her bedside and
watched her feverish slumbers night after night. Now it is all
forgotten,--but I only meant to let you know that I need not take leave
of either of them."
While Miss Mertens went to bid good-by to Fraeulein von Walde and a few
others in the house who were fond of her, Elizabeth packed up a
travelling bag for her. The new inmate of Gnadeck only took a few
necessary articles with her; the rest of her possessions were sent to
the future apartments of the betrothed pair.
It was an amusement for Elizabeth to arrange Miss Mertens' books in a
bookcase in one of these apartments. Herr von Walde had allowed all the
furniture in the rooms to remain for the use of their new inhabitants.
Many of these books were most interesting; she not only glanced at their
title pages, but, as she stood there, ran over several pages. Miss
Mertens and her affairs were all forgotten for the moment as if they had
never existed. While she was buried in Goethe's appearance in the crowd
at the coronation of Joseph II., a fresh rose fell over her shoulder
upon the pages of the book Elizabeth started, but instantly smiled,
shook off the rose, and went on reading. Miss Mertens, who was
doubtless standing behind her, should not exult in any effect of her
teasing. But she suddenly uttered a low cry,--a white, well-formed man's
hand appeared and was gently laid upon hers. She turned round,--not
Miss Mertens, but Hollfeld, was standing behind her and spreading out
his arms with a smile, as if to seize the startled girl.
Instantly her alarm was converted into indignation; but before she could
breathe a word, a harsh commanding voice cried out: "Emil, everybody is
looking for you. Your superintendent from Odenberg is here to see you
upon business of importance. Pray go to him instantly!"
Beside Elizabeth was an open window. Outside of it stood Herr von
Walde, with his arms leaning upon the broad sill looking in. It was his
voice which banished Hollfeld on the instant in great embarrassment.
What an angry expression there was upon the uncovered forehead, in the
compressed lips, and in the eyes that flashed upon Hollfeld's retreating
figure as it vanished through the opposite door!
At last his glance returned to Elizabeth, who had hitherto stood still,
but who now, recovering from her two-fold fright, was about to retreat
into the recesses of the apartment.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, brusquely; his voice had not lost
its former harsh tone. Elizabeth, deeply wounded by the manner and
style of his address, was about to return a defiant answer, when she
suddenly recollected that she was in his house, and therefore she simply
answered:
"I am arranging Miss Mertens' books."
"There was another answer upon your lips,--I saw it, and I wish to know
what it was."
"Well, then,--I was about to say that I do not reply to questions asked
in such a manner."
"And why did you suppress this reproof?"
"Because it occurred to me that you have the right to command here."
"I am glad,--it is well that you think thus,--for I should like just at
this moment to exercise this obvious right of mine: tread upon that rose
which lies languishing there at your feet."
"That I shall not do,--it has done no wrong." She picked up the rose, a
beautiful half-open centifolia, and laid it upon the window-sill. Herr
von Walde took the flower, and without more ado tossed it away over the
lawn.
"There let it die a poetic death," he said with a sneer, "let the
grasses bend above it, and the evening dews shed sympathetic tears over
the poor victim."
The rigid expression had passed away from his features, but there was
still the same inquisitorial look in his eyes, and his voice was not
much gentler, as he asked:
"What were you reading when it was my misfortune to interrupt you?"
"Goethe's 'Wahrheit und Dichtung.'"
"Do you know the book?"
"Only selections from it."
"Well, how do you like the touching story of Gretchen?"
"I do not know it."
"You have it open in your hands."
"No, I was reading the coronation of Joseph II., at Frankfort."
"Let me see it."
She handed him the open book.
"It is even so! But look how ugly that is! Just where Goethe describes
the emperor ascending the throne, there is an ugly green spot.
Doubtless you pressed the green rose leaves too tenderly upon the leaf
of the book; the Emperor, Goethe, and Miss Mertens will hardly forgive
you for it."
"That spot is old--I did not touch the rose."
"But you smiled at sight of it."
"Because I thought it came from Miss Mertens."
"Ah, there is something touching in this friendship! It must have been a
great disappointment when, instead of your friend, you saw my cousin's
handsome face behind you."
"Yes."
"'Yes.' How that sounds! I like laconic brevity, but it must not be
ambiguous. What does that 'yes' mean? It sounds neither sweet nor
bitter; and then your face!--why is that defiant frown there between
your eyebrows?"
"Because I think that there are limits to every right."
"I did not know that I was making use of my right just at present."
"But you will know it if you will ask yourself whether you would address
me thus harshly in my father's house."
Herr von Walde grew pale. He compressed his lips, and retreated a few
paces. Elizabeth took the book which he had laid upon the window-sill,
and went to the bookcase to close it.
"Under the same circumstances, I should have spoken exactly so in your
father's house," he said, after awhile, somewhat more gently, as he
again approached the window. "You make me impatient. Why do you answer
so ambiguously? How could I tell from that simple syllable whether the
disappointment of which you spoke were a disagreeable or a pleasant one?
Well?"
He leaned far across the window-sill, and looked full into her face, as
though to read the answer upon her lips; but she turned away with
irritation. Hateful thought! How could any one suppose that Hollfeld
could ever be agreeable to her? Did not her face, her whole bearing
towards the man, show how thoroughly disagreeable she thought him?
At this moment Miss Mertens entered the room to seek Elizabeth. She had
completed all her preparations, and was quite ready to leave the house.
With a sigh of relief, Elizabeth hastened to her, while Herr von Walde
left the window and paced to and fro several times on the lawn. When he
again approached, Miss Mertens went towards him, and courtesied
profoundly. She told him that she had in vain endeavoured to obtain
access to him several times that day, and that she rejoiced to have an
opportunity to thank him for his kindness and thoughtfulness.
He made a deprecating gesture, and offered his congratulations upon her
betrothal. He spoke very calmly. Again his whole presence breathed an
atmosphere of dignity and reserve, so that Elizabeth could not
understand how she had ever found the courage to remind this man of the
laws of common politeness. The eyes that had flashed so passionately
now looked serenely into Miss Mertens' face. The deep, gentle tones of
his voice obliterated all remembrance of the cutting irony that had
rendered it so sharp a few moments before, when it had given to his
words such an accent of irritation, and had sounded as if designed only
to wound and avenge.
That Herr von Walde was filled with bitterness towards his cousin,
Elizabeth had already noticed once before that day. But why should she
be made to suffer whenever he encountered him? Was not Hollfeld's
continual intrusiveness sufficient annoyance to her? Why should she be
made the victim of an irritation for which Helene alone was to blame? A
sharp pang shot through her as she remembered how tenderly and
forgivingly Herr von Walde had taken his sister in his arms, never
casting a single look of reproach upon her when Hollfeld's visits had
been alluded to. She, the poor piano-player, who was of necessity
forced to endure Hollfeld's presence, must be the scapegoat. Or had he
perhaps seen how Hollfeld had thrown the rose upon her book, and was his
aristocratic pride wounded that his cousin should pay such homage to an
untitled maiden? This thought flashed upon Elizabeth as an explanation
of everything. Yes, thus only could his conduct be explained. She was
to crush the poor flower, that all proof might be destroyed that Herr
von Hollfeld had for one moment forgotten his aristocratic descent.
That was the reason why he had suddenly spoken in such a harsh tone of
command,--a tone which only those heard from him who had committed some
fault, and why she was called upon to explain the impression which
Hollfeld's sudden appearance had made upon her. At this moment she
would have liked to confront him, and tell him frankly how odious his
high-born cousin was to her,--that so far from feeling honoured by his
attentions, she looked upon them as nothing less than insults. But it
was too late. Herr von Walde was discussing Reinhard's journey to
England with Miss Mertens so calmly and kindly that it would have been
ridiculous, in the midst of such a discussion, suddenly to resume the
thread of the previous stormy conversation. Besides, he did not once
look at her again, although she stood tolerably near to Miss Mertens.
"I am really half persuaded to go with him," he said in conclusion to
the governess. "Reinhard shall return with your mother, for I intend to
give him the entire charge of Lindhof here, and I will pass the winter
in London, and go to Scotland in the spring."
"And not return for years?" Miss Mertens interrupted him, anxiously.
"Has Thuringia, then, no attraction for you?"
"Oh, yes; but I suffer here, and you know that prompt and active
treatment will often cure where cautious, cowardly delay might bring
danger. I hope much from the air of Scotland."
The last words were spoken in a tone meant to be gay, but the lines
between his brows were stronger than ever, and caused Elizabeth to doubt
much whether his cheerfulness were genuine.
He shook hands with Miss Mertens, and walked slowly away, soon
disappearing behind a clump of trees.
"There it is," said the governess, sadly; "instead of bringing a lovely
young wife home to Lindhof, as I hoped he would, he is going away again,
and perhaps will not return for years. He is restless, and no wonder,
when one thinks of the comfortless home that he has. Baroness Lessen he
cannot endure, and yet he is forced to see her daily at his fireside,
for his sister, whom he loves so tenderly, has declared to him, that in
the society of this woman she is able to forget the bitter trials of her
life. And his cousin, too, is an unbidden guest. Herr von Walde's
nature is too frank and open to allow him to conceal his dislikes; but
these people are made of iron and steel,--the indifference of the master
of the house never affects them in the least; they have neither eyes nor
ears when he hints at their leaving. And as for Herr von Hollfeld, he
seems to me a very insignificant creature, and very repulsive. I cannot
conceive how he could have won Fraeulein von Walde's heart."
"Do you know that too?" asked Elizabeth.
"Ah, child, that has been a secret known to everybody for a long time.
She loves him as truly and deeply as only a woman can love. But this
unfortunate attachment, on which she now lives and breathes as in
sunlight, will one of these days cast the darkest shadow that has yet
fallen upon her sorrowful existence. All this Herr von Walde
comprehends; but he cannot open the eyes of his sister without
inflicting a mortal wound, and so he sacrifices everything to his
fraternal tenderness, and leaves the home where he is made so unhappy."
During this conversation, Miss Mertens and Elizabeth had left the
castle, and were now ascending the mountain path. Reinhard, who had
been to the village, soon joined them. Miss Mertens told him of her
interview with Herr von Walde, and all that he had said about going to
England.
"He has not yet mentioned it to me," said Reinhard; "but he often looks
as if he longed to leave Lindhof. Such a household! The master of the
house is considered by his relatives in the light of a fifth wheel to a
coach,--he maintains them, and they show their gratitude by estranging
his sister's heart from him. Good Heavens! if I could only take his
place for two days, I would soon exorcise the evil spirit and not a
trace of it should ever appear again. However, I hope that Herr von
Hollfeld will at least soon return to Odenberg for a few days. His
superintendent has just arrived with the intelligence that the
housekeeper has left,--no one stays there long--my gentleman is too
stingy. And several other matters are in disorder there."
When they reached Castle Gnadeck, the guest was most cordially welcomed
by the Ferbers. How comfortable and homelike did Miss Mertens' room
seem to its new inmate! It shone with neatness; the counterpane and
table-covers were spotless, a beautiful Schwarzwald clock was ticking
softly just above the prettily arrayed writing-table, and a vase of
roses and mignonette upon the window-sill filled the air with fragrance.
Through the open door could be seen the dwelling-room of the family.
There the table was already laid, and Elizabeth lighted the spirit-lamp
beneath the tea-kettle, while Miss Mertens was arranging in drawers and
wardrobe the few articles that she had brought with her.
In the mean while the forester, with his long pipe and Hector, had
arrived, and Reinhard also stayed, so that a merry circle was soon
assembled. The forester was in a particularly happy humour. Elizabeth
sat beside him, and did her best to join in his gaiety; but it had never
seemed so difficult to her before, and he, who had an acute perception
of the most delicate modulations of her voice, soon perceived it.
"Holla, Gold Elsie, what is the matter with you?" he cried, suddenly.
"All is not right here." He took her by the chin and looked into her
eyes. "I see,--there is a veil over your eyes, and over your heart,
too! Zounds! what a sudden change! And what does this sad nun's face
mean?"
Elizabeth blushed deeply beneath his scrutinizing gaze. She did all that
she could to parry his questions by jest and laughter, but she did not
succeed very well, and at last there was nothing for her but to seat
herself at the piano, where he never teased nor laughed at her.
How much good it did her heavy heart to give it voice in full rolling
chords, as the sound floated sadly out into the gathering
twilight,--telling of the gloom that had fallen upon her at the thought
of Herr von Walde's again leaving Thuringia! Where now were all her
dreamings and all her endeavours to read the meaning of that mysterious
warning that had of late breathed through her melodies? It rung out
clearly now in mighty tones, at the sound of which all the former gentle
breathings of her inward emotions died away in an inaudible whisper. A
fairy land, full of golden promise, was revealed before her; her
enchanted eyes gazed rapturously upon the fair landscape,--but never,
never might she tread that magic ground, for nothing could bridge the
abyss at her feet. The veil beneath which her heart had hitherto lain in
blissful self-ignorance was rent, and with joy and pain unspeakable she
knew--that she loved.
She did not know how long she had been playing. But she was suddenly
aroused from her utter forgetfulness of the world without by a bright
gleam of light falling directly on the pale bust of Beethoven. Her
mother had just lighted the large lamp, and Elizabeth saw her uncle
sitting near her on the broad window-seat. He must have entered
noiselessly. As her hands dropped from the keys, he gently smoothed her
hair with his hand.
"Do you know, child," he said, after the last faint sound had died away,
and his voice trembled with emotion, "if I had not already seen that
something was the matter, I should soon have learned it from your
playing,--it was tears, nothing but tears!"