It was now June, 1878. Frau von Rienaecker and Frau von Sellenthin had
spent the month of May on a visit with the young couple; and the mother
and the mother-in-law had day by day convinced each other that
Katherine looked paler and more bloodless and languid than she had ever
been before, and needless to say they had incessantly urged that a
specialist should be consulted, by whose advice, after a gynecological
examination (which, by the way, proved very expensive), a four weeks'
stay at the Schlangenbad health resort was pronounced indispensable and
was accordingly decided upon. Schwalbach might be useful later.
Katherine laughed and would not hear of any such thing, especially of
Schlangenbad, "the name sounded so uncanny and she already seemed to
feel a viper in her bosom," but finally she had yielded and had found
in the preparations for the journey a far greater contentment than she
expected from the cure itself. She went down town every day to make
purchases, and was never tired of telling how she was only now
beginning to understand "shopping" which was in such high favor among
Englishwomen: to go from shop to shop and always to find beautiful
goods and courteous people, was really a pleasure and instructive too,
because one saw so much that one did not know before, perhaps not even
by name. As a rule Botho took part in these little trips and
excursions, and before the beginning of the last week in June, half of
the Rienaeckers' dwelling was turned into a little exhibition of
traveller's conveniences: a brass-bound travelling trunk, which
Botho, not without some show of justice, called the coffin of his
property--this took the lead, then came two smaller ones of Russia
leather, with satchels, rugs, and cushions, and the travelling wardrobe
lay spread out over the sofa with a dust cloak over all and a pair of
marvellous thick-soled laced boots, as if a trip to the glaciers were
in question.
June 24th, midsummer day was set for the beginning of the journey, but
the day before Katherine wanted the intimate circle to be gathered
around her once more, and so Wedell and young Osten, and naturally Pitt
and Serge too, were invited for a comparatively early hour. Also
Katherine's special favorite Balafre, who had as a "Halberstaedter"
taken part in the great cavalry attack at Mars-la-Tour, and who still
deserved his nickname because of a great sabre cut across his brow and
cheek, a souvenir of that battle.
Katherine sat between Wedell and Balafre and did not look as if she
were in need of the Schlangenbad or any other water cure in the world.
She had color, laughed, asked a hundred questions and when the person
of whom she had asked the question started to speak, she contented
herself with a minimum in the way of reply. In fact she led the
conversation, and no one was offended with her, because she was a past
mistress in the art of pleasing small talk. Balafre asked how she
pictured her life at the water cure. Schlangenbad was renowned not only
for its wonderful cures but also for its monotony, and four weeks of
monotony at a health resort would be a good deal even under the most
favorable circumstances.
"Oh, dear Balafre," said Katherine, "you ought not to frighten me, and
you would not if you knew how much Botho has done for me. He has got me
eight novels though, to be sure, he put them in the bottom layer of my
trunk; and in order that my imagination should not be prejudiced
against water cures, he put in also a book about scientific fish
culture."
Balafre laughed.
"Yes, you laugh, my dear friend, and yet you know only the lesser half,
for the larger half (Botho, you know, never does anything without
weighty reason) is his motives. Of course, what I just said about the
pamphlet on fish culture being meant to prevent my taking a prejudice
against the water cure was only a joke. The serious side of the matter
is simply this, that I must actually read the pamphlet, and that from
local patriotism, for Neumark, your happy home as well as mine, has
been for a long time the birth and breeding place of scientific fish
culture, and if I knew nothing of this new factor of food production,
so important nationally and economically, I should never dare to show
myself again on the further side of the Oder in the Landsbergerkreise,
much less, however, in Verneuchen, at my Cousin Borne's."
Botho started to speak, but she cut him off and went on: "I know what
you were going to say, that the eight novels were only put in 'in case
of emergency.' But I think there are not likely to be any
'emergencies.' Only yesterday I had a letter from my sister Ina, who
wrote me that Anna Graevenitz has already been there for a week. You
know her, Wedell; she was a Miss Rohr, a charming blonde. We were
together at old Frau Zuelow's Pension, and we were even in the same
class. And I remember how we both adored our divine Felix Bachmann, and
even wrote verses, until good old Zuelow said that she forbade any such
nonsense. And Elly Winterfield, as Ina writes me, is apparently coming
too. And now I say to myself, in company with two charming young
women--and I myself for the third, even if I cannot be compared with
the others--in such good company, I say, one must surely be able to
live. Don't you think so, dear Balafre?"
The latter bowed with a grotesque air, which seemed to express his
agreement with everything Katherine might say, except her assertion
that any one might be her superior, but nevertheless he resumed his
former list of questions: "If I might hear the details, gracious lady!
The separate items, so to speak; one minute, may decide our happiness
and unhappiness. And there are so many minutes in a day."
"Well, I think it will be like this: Every morning letters. Then a
promenade concert and a walk with the two ladies, preferably in a
secluded path. There we will sit down and read our letters aloud, for I
hope we shall have received some, and we shall laugh if he writes
tenderly and say 'Yes, yes.' And then comes the bath, and after the
bath the toilette, naturally with care and enthusiasm, which in
Schlangenbad may be no less amusing than in Berlin. Rather the
contrary. And then we shall go to lunch and I shall have an old general
on my right and a rich manufacturer on my left. From my youth on I have
had a passion for manufacturers--a passion of which I am much ashamed.
For either they have invented a new kind of armor plate or laid a
submarine telegraphic cable or bored a tunnel or constructed an
ascending railway. And beside all this, they are rich, which I do not
at all despise. And after lunch, the reading-room and coffee, with the
Venetian blinds let down, so that light and shade will be chasing each
other across the newspaper. And then a walk, or a drive. And perhaps,
if we are fortunate, a couple of cavaliers from Frankfort or Mainz may
have wandered over and they may ride beside the carriage; and I must
say, my friends, that compared with Hussars, whether red or blue, you
are not in the fashion, and from my military standpoint it is and
remains a decided blunder, that they have doubled the Dragoon Guards,
but have, so to speak, simply left the Hussars alone. And it is still
more incomprehensible to me that they should be left over there.
Anything so special belongs in the capital."
Botho, who began to be annoyed by his wife's great talent for
conversation, tried by means of little jokes and mockeries to stem the
tide of her endless prattle. But his guests were far less critical than
he, indeed they grew more enthusiastic than ever over "the charming
little woman," and Balafre, who was over head and ears in his
admiration for Katherine, said: "Rienaecker, if you say one word more
against your wife, you are a dead man. My dear lady, what in the world
does your ogre of a husband want? What does he find to criticise? I
can't imagine. And in the end I am forced to believe that he feels his
honor as a cavalryman insulted, and if you will pardon the pun, he
rumples his feathers simply because he has feathers. Rienaecker, I take
my oath! If I had such a wife as you have, her lightest whim would be
my law, and if she wanted to turn me into a Hussar, I would join the
Hussars and make an end of it. But so much I know for certain, and I
would stake my life and honor on it, if his Majesty could hear such
persuasive words, the Hussars would never have another quiet hour;
to-morrow morning they would be in the quarters for moving troops at
Zehlendorf, and day after to-morrow they would be marching into Berlin
through the Brandenburg Gate. Oh these Sellenthins, whose health I
drink, taking time by the forelock, the first, second, and third time
in this one toast! Why have you not another sister, my dear lady? Why
is Fraeulein Ina already engaged? It is too soon and in any case it is
my loss."
Katherine was delighted with these small flatteries and assured him
that, in spite of the fact that Ina was now hopelessly lost to him, she
would do everything for him that could possibly be done, although she
knew perfectly well that he was an incorrigible bachelor and was only
making pretty speeches.
Immediately afterwards, however, she dropped her badinage with Balafre
and began to talk once more about her journey, and especially about how
she thought her correspondence would be during her absence. She hoped,
as she could not help repeating, that she should get a letter every
day, for that was no more than the duty of an affectionate husband, and
as for her, she would think it over, and only on the first day, she
would show some sign of life at every station. This proposal was
approved even by Rienaecker, and finally was but slightly altered, it
being decided that at every important station she passed through, in
spite of detours, as far as Cologne, she should write a card, but that
she should put all the cards, whether they were few or many, in one
envelope. This plan would have the advantage, that she could express
herself freely about her travelling companions without any fear of
post-office clerks and letter carriers.
After dinner they took their coffee on the balcony, where Katherine,
after making some objections, appeared in her travelling costume: a
Rembrandt hat and a dust cloak with a travelling satchel slung over her
shoulder. She looked charming. Balafre was more enchanted than ever and
begged her not to be too much surprised if the next morning she should
find him anxiously squeezed into the corner of the coupe as an escort
for the journey.
"Provided that he gets his furlough," laughed Pitt.
"Or that he deserts," added Serge, "which would really be the first
thing that would make his devotion complete."
And so they chatted for a while longer. Then they bade their hospitable
host and hostess good-bye and agreed to go together as far as the
bridge at Luetzow Square. Here, however, they divided into two groups,
and while Balafre, Wedell and Osten sauntered further along the canal,
Pitt and Serge, who were going to Kroll's, went toward the Thiergarten.
"What a charming creature that Katherine is," said Serge. "Rienaecker
seems rather prosaic beside her, and then he looks at her so
discontentedly and so reprovingly, as if he needed to make excuses to
every one for the little woman, who to a discerning eye is really
cleverer than he."
Pitt kept silence.
"And what in the world does she want at Schwalbach or Schlangenbad?"
Serge went on. "That does not help matters at all. And if it does, it
is usually a rather peculiar sort of help."
Pitt glanced at him sidewise. "I think. Serge, that you are growing
more and more Russian, or what amounts to the same thing, you are
living up to your name more and more."
"But still not enough. But joking aside, my friend, I am in earnest
about one thing: Rienaecker makes me angry. What has he against the
charming little woman? Do you know?"
"Yes."
"Well?"
"She is rather a little silly. Or if you prefer it in German, she
babbles a bit. At all events too much for him."