That evening Botho wrote to Lena that he would come on the following
day, perhaps even earlier than usual. And he kept his word and arrived
an hour before sunset. Naturally he found Frau Doerr there. The air was
very fine and not too warm, and after they had talked a while, Botho
said:
"Perhaps we could go into the garden."
"Yes, either into the garden or somewhere else?"
"What do you mean?"
Lena laughed. "Don't be worried again, Botho. There is no one hiding in
ambush and the lady with the pair of white horses and the wreaths of
flowers will not cross your path."
"Then where shall we go, Lena?"
"Just out in the green meadows where you will have nothing but daisies
and me. And perhaps Frau Doerr, too, if she will be so good as to go
with us."
"Will she?" said Frau Doerr. "Surely she will. I feel much honored. But
I must put myself to rights a little. I will be with you again
directly."
"There is no need, Frau Doerr; we will call for you."
And so the plan was carried out, and as the young couple walked across
the garden a quarter of an hour later, Frau Doerr was already standing
at the door, a wrap on her arm and a marvellous hat on her head, a
present from Doerr, who, like all misers, would buy something absurdly
expensive once in a while.
Botho said something complimentary to the rather overdressed lady, and
all three walked down the path and went out by a hidden side door and
reached a little path, which before it led further and curved out into
the open green fields ran along by the outer side of the garden fence
where the nettles grew high.
"We will follow this path," said Lena. "It is the prettiest and the
most solitary. No one comes here."
And certainly it was the loneliest path, far more silent and solitary
than three or four other roads that ran parallel with it over the
meadows towards Wilmersdorf and showed something of their own sort of
suburban life. On one of these roads there were a good many sheds,
between which there were horizontal bars somewhat like those used by
gymnasts. These aroused Botho's curiosity, but before he could ask
about them, the work going on answered his question: rugs and carpets
were spread out on the frames and immediately began such a beating and
banging with big sticks that a cloud of dust rose and nearly concealed
the road.
Botho pointed out this dust and was beginning a discussion with Frau
Doerr about the value or harmfulness of carpets, which, viewed in this
light, are mere dirt catchers, "and if one has not a very strong chest
one might get consumption and never know how." But he stopped short in
the middle of a sentence, because the road he had taken led past a
place where the rubbish of a stone-cutter's workshop had been thrown
out, and all sorts of fragments of ornaments lay about, in great
numbers especially angels' heads.
"There is an angel's head," said Botho. "Look, Frau Doerr. And here is
even one with wings."
"Yes," said Frau Doerr. "And a chubby face too. But is it really an
angel? I think it must be a cupid, because it is so small and has
wings."
"Cupid or angel," said Botho, "they are just the same. You ask Lena,
and she will tell you so. Isn't that so, Lena?"
Lena seemed offended, but he took her hand and they were good friends
again.
Immediately behind the rubbish heap the path turned to the left and
opened immediately afterwards into a somewhat larger country road where
the willows were in bloom and were scattering their fleecy catkins over
the fields, where they lay strewn about like cotton wool.
"Look, Lena," said Frau Doerr, "do you know that they stuff beds with
that now instead of feathers? And they call it tree wool."
"Yes, I know, Frau Doerr. And I am always glad when people think of
anything like that and make use of it. But it would never do for you."
"No, Lena, it would not do for me. You are right. I am more in
favor of something firm, horse hair and a spring bed, and if it gives a
jump ..."
"Oh, yes," said Lena, who was growing a trifle nervous over this
description. "But I am afraid that we shall have rain. Just hear the
frogs, Frau Doerr."
"Yes, the frogs," repeated the latter. "At night they keep up such a
croaking that one cannot sleep. And why? Because this is all swamp and
only looks like meadow land. Look at the pool where the stork is
standing and looking right over this way. Well, he isn't looking at me.
He might have to look a long time. And a mighty good thing too."
"But we ought really to be turning back," said Lena, who was much
embarrassed, and simply wanted to say something.
"Oh, no indeed," laughed Frau Doerr. "Surely not now, Lena; you mustn't
get frightened at a little thing like that. Good stork, you must bring
me ... Or shall I sing: Dearest stork?"
And so it went on for a while yet, for it took time to get Frau Doerr
away from such a favorite topic.
But finally there was a pause, during which they walked slowly onward,
until at last they came to a plateau-like ridge that led over from the
Spree towards the Havel. Just at this point the pasture land ended and
fields of rye and rape seed began and continued as far as the first
rows of houses of Wilmersdorf.
"Now let us go up there," said Frau Doerr, "and then we will sit down
and pick buttercups and make a wreath out of the stems. It is always so
much fun to poke one stem into another until the wreath or the chain is
done."
"Yes, yes," said Lena, whose fate it was not to be free from small
embarrassments. "Yes, yes. But now come, Frau Doerr, the path leads this
way."
And talking thus they climbed the little slope and seated themselves at
the top on a heap of weeds and rubbish that had been lying there since
the previous autumn. This heap was an excellent resting place, and also
afforded a good point of view from which one could overlook a ditch
bordered with willows and grass, and could not only see the northern
row of houses of Wilmersdorf, but could also plainly hear, from a
neighboring smoking-room and bowling-alley, the fall of the ninepins
and more plainly still the rolling back of the heavy ball along the two
noisy wooden rods of its track. Lena enjoyed this, and took Botho's
hand and said: "See, Botho, I understand that so well (for when I was a
child we lived near such a bowling-alley) that when I just hear the
ball hit, I know at once how much it will make."
"Well," said Botho, "then we can bet."
"And what shall we bet?"
"We shall think of something."
"Very well. But I only have to guess right three times, and if I say
nothing it doesn't count."
"I am satisfied."
And so they all three listened, and Frau Doerr, who grew more excited
every minute, swore by all that was holy that her heart was throbbing
and that she felt just as if she were sitting before the curtain at the
theatre. "Lena, Lena, you have undertaken too much, child; it really is
not possible."
And so she would have continued, if they had not just then heard a ball
hit and after one dull blow come to rest against the side guard.
"Missed," cried Lena. And this was actually the case.
"That was easy, too easy," said Botho. "I could have guessed that
myself. Let us see what happens next."
And then, two more strokes followed, without Lena speaking or moving.
But Frau Doerr's eyes seemed to pop out of her head more and more. But
now, Lena rose at once from her place, there came a small, hard ball
and one could hear it dance, vibrating over the board with a tone in
which elasticity and hardness were curiously mingled. "All nine," said
Lena. And in a moment the falling of the ninepins was heard and the
attendant only confirmed what scarcely needed confirmation.
"You have won, Lena. We must eat a philopena to-day and then we'll call
it square. Isn't that right, Frau Doerr?"
"Why certainly," said Frau Doerr winking. "It is all square." And so
saying, she took her hat off and began to swing it about as if it had
been her market hat.
Meanwhile the sun had gone down behind the Wilmersdorf church tower and
Lena proposed to start for home, "it was growing so chilly; but on the
way they would play tag: she was sure that Botho could not catch her."
"We shall soon see."
And now they began chasing and running, and Lena actually could not be
caught until at last she was so weak with laughter and excitement that
she took refuge behind the substantial form of Frau Doerr.
"Now I have a tree to dodge around," she laughed, "and so you'll never
catch me." And thereupon she took hold of Frau Doerr's rather loose
jacket and pushed the good woman so cleverly to the left and right,
that she protected herself for quite a while. But suddenly Botho was
beside her and caught her and gave her a kiss.
"That is against the rules; we had not agreed on anything." But despite
this protest she hung on his arm and commanded, imitating the harsh
voice of the guard, "Forward march ... double quick," and enjoying Frau
Doerr's endless exclamations of admiration wherewith the good woman
accompanied the game.
"Is it believable?" said she. "No, one can hardly believe it. And
always just like this. And when I think of mine! It is unbelievable, I
say. And yet he was a man too. And he always behaved so!"
"What in the world is she talking about?" asked Botho softly.
"Oh she is just thinking.... But you know all about it.... I told you
about it before."
"Oh, so that is it. Well, he can't have been so very bad."
"Who knows? For that matter, one is about the same as another."
"Do you think so?"
"No." And she shook her head while her eyes shone with a soft and
tender expression. But she would not let this mood get the upper hand
of her and so she said quickly: "Let us sing, Frau Doerr. Let us sing.
But what shall we sing?"
"'Rosy dawn' ..."
"No, not that ... 'To-morrow in the cold grave' is too sad for me. No,
let us sing 'A year from now, a year from now' or rather 'Do you
remember?'"
"Yes, that is right, that is a pretty one: that is my favorite song."
And with well-practised voices all three sang Frau Doerr's favorite
song, and when they had nearly reached the garden the words still rung
out over the field: "_Ich denke d'ran.... Ich danke dir, mein Leben_."
And then from the other side of the road, where the long row of sheds
and carriage-houses were, the echoes repeated the song.
Frau Doerr was very, very happy. But Lena and Botho had grown quiet and
serious.