"Now I feel by proof
That fellowship in pain divides not smart,
Nor lightens aught each man's peculiar load."
--MILTON.
The "day" is not yet over, for in the society-world they begin to
reckon it at ten o'clock in the evening. It is therefore early,
although nearly midnight, when we enter the room of Baron Von
Kahring. The old gentleman, his wife, and Arnold are together.
"And now, tell me," says the baron to his son, "why did you behave so
toward Fraulein Kouzky to-day again? I had particularly requested
you to give her attention, but you paid her only the most formal
courtesies."
"She is too tiresome," replies Arnold. "I don't know what to say to
a goose."
"Please speak more respectfully of your future wife."
"O ho! we are not so far along as that," rejoins Arnold
contemptuously.
"Because you always fancy to marry Fraulein Von Herbig. But she has
nothing. I have personally, in your interests, taken the trouble to
inquire into her finances. The Widow Von Herbig has nothing but her
pension, and she lives so extravagantly, this scarcely suffices to
meet expenses. Sibylla hasn't a penny, and will be obliged to take a
position as governess or companion when her mother dies. You see she
is no mate for you; with your meagre lieutenant's salary you can not
marry."
The old baron paused and gazed intently at his son, who remained
silent. Then he continued:
"Now look at Fraulein Kouzky. She is young, handsome, loves you, and
burns to become Lady Lieutenant Von Kahring."
"Well, she may burn," interrupted Arnold. "These tedious, prudish
people are so limited in their actions and words. 'Fraulein, have
you read Faust?' 'O, pray do not mention it; my mother does not
approve such literature for young girls.' 'Have you read Werther?'
'O, pray do not mention it: I may when I am older.' And yet she is
at least twenty-five years old."
"Ungrateful one, she has become so on your account," said the baron,
bitterly. "I have often trembled, for I know she has had offer after
offer----"
"Yes," interjected Arnold; "her money has had offers and lovers, not
herself. But a baron has not bitten yet; and rumor has it that the
upstart, Kouzky, will take into consideration no proposal of lesser
rank."
"Fool!" exclaimed the Baron. "What has his business to do with his
daughter? She always improves upon acquaintance. In conversation
with her to-day I was astonished at the wealth of her mind. 'Still
water runs deep.' I will guarantee she has far more heart and mind
than that proud, lofty Sibylla. And as to external appearance, she
will lend much greater credit to our position with her carriage, her
dignity----"
"Whip up the mud as you may," interrupted Arnold, contemptuously;
"there will never be any cream on it."
"Very well," cried the old baron, angrily; "then I shall tell the
plain truth. If you do not consent to-day to marry Fraulein Kouzky,
in six weeks I shall be a ruined man!"
Therewith father and mother unfolded their affairs to the son. Every
thing had only a superficial glamour in order to conceal their
misery. Arnold had long suspected this, but did not think the crisis
so near. Not a chair, nor a table, nor a picture belonged to them.
They had for a long time privately economized and suffered want in
order to appear well before the public. There might, indeed, be some
hope yet, if this or that speculation were fortunate; but that
required time and a continuance of their present style of living.
They could borrow no more; besides which, that was a perilous step;
for how easy it would be to destroy the two feasible ways of escape
out of their difficulties and cause Arnold's and Eugenie's marriages
to be failures. O, there had been terrible hours experienced!--hours
that necessitated Lady Von Kahring to smile upon her guests, and urge
them to enjoy refreshments unpaid for, and when the old baron saw
bottle after bottle of champagne emptied and his credit at the
wine-dealer's gone.
Arnold waxed paler and paler. He shuddered when he realized the
fearful condition of affairs. The fatal poison of deceit and
falsehood had surrounded him since childhood, and no great storm had
taken him in its arms and shaken him. Indeed, it had been like a
draught of fresh air to sit beside Sibylla. Even if she was so
fearless, loveless, and sarcastic, she remained the one person in
this circle to him. But now what must be done? Simply pay all that
could be paid; sell every thing to be just to creditors, to declare
openly how matters stood; then cut loose from society, and go to
work--perhaps in America--but to work hard and be honest. Of the
three persons in this room, not one had a useful trade, to accept or
enable them to listen to such a course. Finally Arnold asked:
"Does Theodora know of our trouble?"
"No, and she must not learn it; for if our house be sacrificed her
entire fortune will be ruined."
Arnold sat there for some time, his parents anxiously awaiting his
decision. At length he sprang up and exclaimed, with a bitter smile:
"I have often read that when the shipwrecked are suffering, one after
another is sacrificed in order to save those who remain. The lot has
fallen first upon me. To-morrow I shall make a proposal of marriage
to Fraulein Albertina Kouzky. Are you satisfied?"
The parents would have embraced their son, but he thrust them aside,
while the old baron said, pathetically: "God's blessing be upon you,
my son!"
Arnold laughed wildly.
"Keep God's blessing away from this filthy business. We shall be
happier if he does not trouble us."
No sleep visited the young lieutenant's eyes that night. Sibylla,
Ingeborg, and Albertina Kouzky were conjured before his mind. With
Sibylla he could have lived; after Ingeborg he longed when he was
weary and sad; but Albertina was a nonentity to him, if not
positively unbearable.
Two days later handsomely engraved cards were sent out, which created
a marked sensation. They read:
"_We have the honor to announce the engagement of our daughter,
Albertina, with Herr Baron Arnold Von Kahring._
"_BANKER KOUZKY AND WIFE._"