THE MISTRESS OF THE BOARDING SCHOOL.
Da. Reising's credit had done its duty, as was shown by the shining
brass plate, upon which the skilful town engraver had etched the words,
"Lori Baute's Boarding School," in large, legible characters.
There she sat, a small sovereign of a small state. The first object of
her ambition was attained. Indignant as she was at the noise which the
classes sometimes made, to her there was even a melodious echo in the
tumult. All these noisy beings are your pupils, entrusted to you, given
up to your authority, and this turbulence only proves how your school
flourishes.
She had adopted a short, decided, dictatorial manner, and practised it
before the mirror; she had also pondered over a necessary alteration in
her dress, and arrived at the conclusion that her present position
required a certain sacrifice, the sacrifice of youth. Fraeulein Sohle,
her predecessor, had none to make in that respect, she was totally
different from her pupils, with the advantage of her maturer years, and
with unartificial dignity, such as is united without effort to creases,
wrinkles, and a figure which only appears as the physical residuum of
an intellectually extinguished spirit.
But Lori was still young; her looking glass told her that she might
compete in charms with the youngest teachers, yes, she even looked
younger than she was.
School, and that life to which she might still lay claim, were opposed
to one another, but she must make some concession. She made up her mind
to it, and decided upon the loss of those curls, which the profane
world designated "love-locks."
It was not easy for her to relinquish the glossy, youthful head-gear,
but the gloomy framework of snake-like curls imparted an otherwise
unattainable dignity to her features. To be sure her eyes flashed out
all the more boldly, and her tiny person could not possibly transform
itself into a Juno. Nevertheless she knew how to inspire respect;
wherever she appeared, all noise was stilled, her omniscience was
feared, because she knew how to find out by inquisition and torture
everything that happened in any portion of her dominions. The
governesses were afraid of her and her spies; they felt that every step
was watched, without knowing in what tangible form those dark powers
dogged their heels.
The older tutors also obeyed the young ruler's will with a certain
gallantry; only the young master with the moustache opposed an
unbending mind, and appeared to be determined to go his own way.
She was thought to be omniscient, poor Lori! How gladly would she have
been so! because unnatural obscurity hovered over one of the most
important questions which occupied her. Far away beyond the attained
goal her ambition was again striving after new objects--how very
different to be a proud _chatelaine_, and the wife of a nobleman of
position--and was this impossible for her?
She sat silently, and counted up all the tokens of attention which
Blanden had vouchsafed to her. The sum was a considerable one, if only
all the separate posts had been secure--!
Blanden had availed himself of her last invitation in the
confectioner's shop to visit Reising, just before his departure to the
province, and, indeed, on the same day. Was it merely his eagerness to
fulfil a social duty while he had time, or was it liking for, and
interest in her poor self?
Dr. Reising had received him very pleasantly. Euphrasia had been
agreeable, yes, coquettish--Lori had no other name for it; even Emma
had shed the light of her kitchen lantern upon the high politics of the
reception-room; and actually Albertine made up her mind to speak.
But he had distinguished her above all the others, talked with her in
preference, and she herself had been intellectual, particularly
intellectual; she must say that for herself, there are days upon which
the silver melts unaided from the mental ore, and becomes liquid, days
of an intellectual silvery appearance. Could Blanden be unsusceptible
to such silvery looks? For he had been in the province a long time. Dr.
Reising had departed with her sisters; she had undertaken the school,
it was a time of anxiety. He was far away, she could only preserve his
image in her heart, and at rare moments take it out for devout
contemplation.
But now he had returned again, she had seen him. Twice he had ridden
past her house. Was it chance, or intentional? He had looked up at her
windows; did he seek her, or did he only notice the wild noise issuing
from one of the classes, the windows of which, in spite of the cold,
had to be opened on account of a worn-out stove!
Much more weighty was the fact that for several days she had each
morning found a bouquet of hot-house flowers in her vase.
A man-servant had delivered them to the housemaid without giving the
name of the donor. In each bouquet was concealed an envelope, in which
was a card containing a verse. Such forbidden goods in a girls' school,
and to be sent to her, the mistress! But she resigned herself to the
inevitable, did not burn the cards, nor did she forbid the reception of
the bouquets.
Did they come from Blanden? A blissful suspicion told her so, she
believed to find reminiscences of their conversations in some of the
verses. Had he not spoken of the solitude of his woods, and did not the
first verse begin with an allusion to it?--
"Without thee darling I am lonely,
All the light of life doth die,
All my heaven is in thee only,
No star is in th' eternal sky
Save thou smile and bid me see,
Save thou come and bide with me."
She imagined she heard Blanden's soft mellifluous voice in the melody
of these lines; but why did he not come? She would gladly have let her
eyes shine upon him.
Bolder was the last poem! It spoke of the lotus-flower. Blanden had
been in India, the exotic colouring of the lines possessed a warmth
such as only personal experience can impart:
"A god of Hindoo dreams,
Cradled in the lotus-flower,
Then enchanted it would seem
By a goddess' magic power;
And wert thou my goddess true
I should be enchanted too."
In spite of the oriental figurative language, the meaning of these
lines was not incomprehensible; they were from Blanden. They must have
originated from him, and mentally Lori composed the anti-strophe--
"Let the lotus shed its perfume,
Tarry not in lover's pain,
In the castle of Kulmitten
I will as your goddess reign."
And if Blanden were the author, the sender of these exotic nosegays,
nothing but delicate consideration could restrain him from seeking her!
He indeed knew where the lotus-flower bloomed, but could he know how he
should be received? He must show some regard for the mistress'
character, upon which her existence depends. He had no pretext for such
a visit; he had no little daughter to introduce. Oh, she understood him
thoroughly, and she respected him the more, the more she understood
him.
She considered long what pretext she could find for a meeting; she made
plans, and rejected them again. At last she decided upon her favourite
weapon, a pink note--an anonymous pink note! He was discreet, she might
trust him, there was nothing remarkable about a chance meeting in the
confectioner's shop; but the reason? This was of less importance; once
she was seated before him, all doubts must vanish.
These lines, these flowers, and the look in his eyes, a single pregnant
word--and the enigma would be solved with magic speed.
The pink note merely contained the words, "a lady begs for your advice
and help," also the place and the hour of the assignation.
Blanden was on friendly terms with Reising; she, without male support
since her brother-in-law's departure, had she not every right to turn
to him, and her doing so would enlighten him.
There was the tutor with the moustache, handsome Dr. Sperner, he became
bolder and more defiant each day, yes even at times he seemed to treat
her like a little girl, and not as the principal of the school. Blanden
should advise her how she was to behave to the doctor, a little
interference in her favour would lower the young man's presumptuous
tone; he must learn that she was sure of manly protection.
When in the act of taking her straw hat out of the drawer so as to make
her toilette in keeping with her correspondence, Dr. Sperner was
announced again. He entered so boldly, that one might have expected to
see spurs on his boots.
"You wish to speak to me, dear Fraeulein?"
"Later, a few hours later, I begged you to come to me."
"I know, but I shall not have time! This white slavery only extends
over lectures and consultations, not the entire day, even if it be the
most amiable lady planter's slavery."
"What do these insinuations mean, Herr Doctor?"
"I gladly look upon myself as your slave, my Fraeulein! If capital be
allowed to plunder our mental labour, it may be endured from an owner
of capital, such as you, dear Fraeulein, with whom a man could live. But
what do you wish?"
"I can now only explain my views very briefly upon two points which I
wish to see altered; yes, I expect, I command that they be altered!"
The Doctor bowed with a mocking smile.
"Even on my first visit to the establishment, I made these
observations," continued Lori, while she assumed a stern tone, and
shook back one spiral curl that fell over her face, "the themes which
you give to the pupils are totally unsuitable, just so the theme for
the last composition, 'Why did Egmont not marry Klaerchen?' That does
not appear to be the proper manner of introducing our classics."
"There our views differ, dear Fraeulein! Upon reflection, you will find
how improving such tasks are. They accustom the girls to grasp the most
important questions in life in an independent manner, and, above all,
to treat them with tact. Besides, I avoid themes which lead to
commonplaces, and which have already been written upon hundreds of
times. New questions which cause independent thought--that is my
object. I should like to wager that hitherto even you have not thought
over my questions."
"I must decline, Herr Doctor, to be placed on a par with my pupils."
"I am far from doing so, excepting on one point, namely, youth and
loveliness."
"You forget to whom you are speaking. Such susceptibility, however, is
a superfluous quality in the masters at my school."
"What would a teacher of youth be, who possessed no susceptibility for
the beautiful?"
"Many pupils and their parents complain of your partiality. I find that
they are right. I have examined the corrected copy-books very closely.
You show such partiality to that fat Iduna; orthographical mistakes,
which, for the others, you mark with thick red lines, in her case you
treat as clerical errors, which you do not count, which you do not put
down in the margin or add up. Thus Iduna always receives a good notice.
And yet that girl brought forward the unutterable nonsense that Egmont
did not marry Klaerchen because it would have been inconvenient, and
marriage, especially owing to ladies' dress, costs too much money;
although lace was made in Brussels and Flanders, and was cheaper than
with us. And this sentence you did not even cross out, while you
accompany the poetical ideas of other girls with red notes of
interrogation."
"Iduna possesses sound common sense, although she is of a prosaic
nature. We must encourage it. On the other hand, it is a master's duty
to eradicate betimes all that is too fantastic; life does not fulfil
such foolish dreams."
"As well as Iduna, you favour Clara, who is not her inferior as to
voluptuous form; it seems that you like full-blown roses."
"You are mistaken, Fraeulein; besides, my private taste has nothing to
do with my profession and your establishment. It is thoroughly feminine
to recognise no principles, and to impute everything to the
affections."
"Because," interposed Lori, "in a boarding school they are ill-weeds,
which must be eradicated first of all."
"As you like to decide upon matters which do not belong to your duties
as principal, although, as a girl, they may be interesting to you--"
"The distinctions which you make are unsuitable--"
"Then I must defend my taste against your accusations. I do not
love such phlegmatic contented natures. I love what is fine and
piquant--vivacious, intellectual eyes, dainty figures--"
"I thank you for your confessions, but I am not in a position to listen
to them any longer; I must leave you. But yet, I must request better
themes for German tasks, and greater impartiality--and you will obey my
orders."
"Certainly; 'Thoughts on the awaking of Spring' shall be the next theme
for our first-class, and Iduna shall receive the worst report. You had
better take your fur instead of your cloak, Fraeulein! It is bittterly
cold, as the sentries say in 'Hamlet,' before they see the ghost. Can I
assist you? That pink bonnet becomes you charmingly, dear Fraeulein! You
can wear the most youthful colours, but smooth bands of hair would suit
you better than these corkscrews. Good-by!"
With a mocking smile, but a fiery glance at the young mistress, the
audacious Doctor took leave. Lori was indignant at his daring, and at
the superior tone which he assumed, but she was still more angry with
herself that she had not been able to keep him within bounds; that she
felt subdued before him, as was Mark Antony before Caesar's genius. She
must procure advice, it was high time.
Soon Lori was seated in the confectioner's shop, and waited eagerly for
the result of her pink note.
Blanden entered: he went excitedly and hastily through the apartments;
he had received the note, and connected its contents with Giulia, who
occupied all his thoughts. For this reason he had acceded to its
invitation, although the preparation for his meeting with the
Lieutenant claimed all his time. He recognised Lori, and went towards
her; she thought it advisable at once to acknowledge her authorship of
the note. Blanden seated himself beside her, and listened absently to
her communications. The less Lori really had to say, the longer she
spun it out: she began with their meeting at the sea-side, with the
friendship which Professor Reising had always entertained for Blanden;
she painted pictures of the short time they had been together, in the
most vivid colours. Blanden sat there so dreamily; was he revelling in
the same recollections; did he smile in silent delight, or only out of
politeness?
Now Lori began to talk about herself; she drew a touching sketch of her
childhood and youth. Blanden's eyes became more and more concealed
beneath their lids, imparting a dreamy appearance to him; was it
fervour or abstraction?
In the midst of her recital Lori watched the play of her listener's
countenance with nervous attention, and was miserable that she could
not fathom the impression which her words made upon him, because this
was the principal object of the meeting. She hardly dared confess to
herself that she had perceived how forced was his attention, and that
his pulses did not seem to beat any higher.
She sought to awaken a deep interest by representing how difficult it
was for a girl to fight her way through the world; she had bought the
school, but now stood there quite isolated, helpless in many respects.
She complained of several governesses, especially of the rebellious
master.
"Then I should dismiss him," said Blanden, with great composure.
"It is not so easy as you think. He has his faults, but it is difficult
to find a substitute. Besides, he is thought something of in society.
In such an establishment one has not only to think of the daughters,
but also of the mothers. And, as far as the mothers are concerned, he
is a veritable Faust; he possesses the keys to their hearts."
"But he would listen to serious remonstrance."
"He treats me, I hardly like to say it, as a loveable little person,
who, by mere chance, has been wafted to the head of the school; as a
cypher, to which some small capital has put a figure before it. If he
knew that I am not quite unprotected, that my brother-in-law, that my
brother-in-law's friends support me--"
"It is a knight's duty to protect ladies who implore protection," said
Blanden. "I shall always fulfil that duty. If the young Doctor should
be guilty of anything in the least degree unbecoming towards you,
reckon upon me; I shall call him to account."
This sounded so delightful, so hopeful! Lori's heart exulted, her eyes
rested with such confiding trust upon the knight, who vowed his
services to her; words of gratitude flowed warmly and fervently from
her lips.
Now she had gained courage to prosecute her research as to whether the
knight had already borne any lady's colours.
"You surely lead a very solitary life in Kulmitten?" asked she,
assuming a most significant air, and emphasising the word "solitary"
very markedly.
"I shall spend the winter mostly in the town," replied Blanden.
The man with the iron mask, thought she, he denies his flowers, but has
he, like many, only warm feelings in his verses?
The suspicion that those lines did not originate from him still
appeared incredible to her.
"One who has lived so long in Hindustan, amongst the lotus-flowers,
may, indeed, find it very desolate here with us."
She cast a sympathetic glance at Blanden, who was so impolite as to
look at his watch at that very moment.
"Lotus-flowers, the cradle of the gods," continued Lori, raising her
eyes like her sister Ophelia, for which, however, she had not the long
silken lashes; she had no talent for moonlight of the soul.
"Nothing looks so poetical when seen quite closely," said Blanden, "as
in the poet's verses, neither lotus flowers, nor gods, nor bayaderes.
The lotus flowers are of as beautiful a pink as your bonnet, Fraeulein,
Nevertheless, the holy plant possesses a very prosaic side, too; bread
can be made from its fruit."
Was this meant for a significant or, perhaps, even a malicious
allusion? Lori had plenty of time for reflection, because immediately
after Blanden politely took leave, while he repeated that he should
always be ready to protect her.
A feeling of great uncertainty took possession of her. All that Blanden
said was so cool, so distant. Had she been mistaken? Did the castles of
Kulmitten and Rositten belong to those in the air? or was he only
teasing her? Did the merry cupids take refuge in his flowers and lines
of poetry, while he acted the part of grave invincibility?
As Lori left the confectioner's shop, she had to pass readers, who were
deeply absorbed in their newspapers. One gigantic sheet was suddenly
lowered, and behind it appeared the moustache of Dr. Sperner, who
greeted the principal of the boarding school with a slight bow, and
smiled familiarly, as she strolled past him.
After a sleepless night, in which the ardent desires of her heart were
driven to flight by the implacable calculation of her understanding,
and after mature consideration, she was obliged to acknowledge a
defeat, which, happily, she had suffered in total secrecy. In the
morning she again found a bouquet of flowers and a note:
"Ah, these runes, dear, pray decypher,
Put an end to my love's pain;
For 'tis not Iduna I love,
No, I love but you alone!"
This was the height of impudence. The moustachioed teacher cast his
mask aside. In her own establishment had sprung up the ill-weeds of
poetry and bouquets.
Should she give him notice?
Under existing circumstances she resolved not at once to speak about
these love poems, so opposed to all rule, but to hold farther mental
debates with herself.
Iduna's next exercise teemed with red corrections. Lori rewarded Dr.
Sperner for them with a grateful smile.