Herculaneum."
"But the poor inhabitants! Did you see it yourself?"
"No, not either of these eruptions, but I have a sketch taken by
myself of an eruption which I did witness."
Then he selected from his portfolio a sketch done with a black-lead
pencil; but mamma, who delighted in highly-coloured pictures, looked
at the pale sketch, and exclaimed in amazement,--
"You saw it gush out white?"
Mamma got into Herr Alfred's black books for a few minutes, and he
felt profound contempt for her; but the light from Kala's eyes soon
dispelled his gloom. He bethought him that her mother had no knowledge
of drawing, that was all; but she had what was far better--she had the
sweet, beautiful Kala.
As might have been expected, Alfred and Kala became engaged, and their
betrothal was announced in the newspaper of the town. Mamma bought
thirty copies of it, that she might cut the paragraphs out, and
inclose them to various friends. The betrothed pair were very happy,
and so was the mamma: she felt almost as proud as if her family were
going to be connected with Thorwaldsen.
"You are his successor at any rate," she said; and Alfred thought that
she had said something very clever. Kala said nothing, but her eyes
brightened, and a lovely smile played around her well-formed mouth.
Every movement of hers was graceful: she was very beautiful--that
cannot be said too often.
Alfred was making busts of Kala and her mother: they sat for him, and
saw how with his finger he smoothed and moulded the soft clay.
"It is a compliment to us," said his mother-in-law elect, "that you
condescend to do that simple work yourself, instead of letting your
men dab all that for you."
"No; it is absolutely necessary that I should do this myself in the
clay," he replied.
"Oh! you are always so exceedingly gallant!" said mamma; and Kala
gently pressed his hand, to which pieces of clay were sticking.
He discoursed to them about the magnificence of Nature in its
creations, the superiority of the living over the dead, plants over
minerals, animals over plants, human beings over mere animals; how
mind and beauty manifested themselves through form, and that the
sculptor sought to bestow on his forms of clay the greatest possible
beauty and expression.
Kala remained silent, revolving his words. Her mother said,
"It is difficult to follow you; but though my thoughts go slowly, I
hold fast what I hear."
And the power of beauty held him fast; it had subdued him--entranced
and enslaved him. Kala's beauty certainly was extraordinary; it was
enthroned in every feature of her face, in her whole figure, even to
the points of her fingers. The sculptor was bewildered by it; he
thought only of her--spoke only of her; and his fancy endowed her with
all perfection.
Then came the wedding-day, with the bridal gifts and the
bride's-maids; and the marriage ceremony was duly performed. His
mother-in-law had placed in the room where the bridal party assembled
the bust of Thorwaldsen, enveloped in a dressing-gown. "He ought to be
a guest, according to her idea," she said. Songs were sung, and
healths were drunk. It was a handsome wedding, and they were a
handsome couple. "Pygmalion got his Galathea" was a line in one of the
songs.
"That was something from mythology," remarked the widow.
The following day the young couple started for Copenhagen, where they
intended to reside; and the mamma accompanied them, to give them a
helping hand, she said, which meant to take charge of the house. Kala
was to be a mere doll. Everything was new, bright, and charming. There
they settled themselves all three; and Alfred, what can be said of
him, only that he was like a bishop among a flock of geese?
The magic of beauty had infatuated him. He had gazed upon the case,
and not thought of what was in it; and this is unfortunate, very
unfortunate, in the marriage state. When the case decays, and the
gilding rubs off, one then begins to repent of one's bargain. It was
very mortifying to Alfred that in society neither his wife nor his
mother-in-law was capable of entering into general conversation--that
they said very silly things, which, with all his wittiest efforts, he
could not cover.
How often the young couple sat hand in hand, and he spoke, and she
dropped a word now and then, always in the same tone, like a clock
striking one, two, three! It was quite a relief when Sophie, a female
friend, came.
Sophie was not very pretty; she was slightly awry, Kala said; but this
was not perceptible except to her female friends. Kala allowed that
she was clever. It never occurred to her that her talents might make
her dangerous. She came like fresh air into a close, confined puppet
show; and fresh air is always pleasant. After a time the young couple
and the mother-in-law went to breathe the soft air of Italy. Their
wishes were fulfilled.
* * * * *
"Thank Heaven, we are at home again!" exclaimed both the mother and
the daughter, when, the following year, they and Alfred returned to
Denmark.
"There is no pleasure in travelling," said the mamma; "on the
contrary, it is very fatiguing--excuse my saying so. I was excessively
tired, notwithstanding that I had my children with me. And travelling
is extremely expensive. What hosts of galleries you have to see! What
quantities of things to be rushing after! And you are so teased with
questions when you come home, as if it were possible to know
everything. And then to hear that you have just forgotten to see what
was most charming! I am sure I was quite tired of these everlasting
Madonnas; one was almost turned into a Madonna one's self."
"And the living was so bad," said Kala.
"Not a single spoonful of honest meat soup," rejoined the mamma. "They
dress the victuals so absurdly."
Kala was much fatigued after her journey. She continued very languid,
and did not seem to rally--that was the worst of it. Sophie came to
stay with them, and she was extremely useful.
The mother-in-law allowed that Sophie understood household affairs
well, and had many accomplishments, which she, with her fortune, had
no need to trouble herself about; and she confessed, also, that Sophie
was very estimable and kind. She could not help seeing this when Kala
was lying ill, without making the slightest exertion in any way.
If there be nothing but the case or framework, when it gives way it is
all over with the case. And the case had given way. Kala died.
"She was charming!" said her mother. "She was very different from all
these antiquities that are half mutilated. Kala was a perfect beauty!"
Alfred wept, and his mother-in-law wept, and they both went into
mourning. The mamma went into the deepest mourning, and she wore her
mourning longest. She also retained her sorrow the longest; in fact,
she remained weighed down with grief until Alfred married again. He
took Sophie, who had nothing to boast of in respect to outward charms.
"He has gone to the other extremity," said his mother-in-law; "passed
from the most beautiful to the ugliest. He has found it possible to
forget his first wife. There is no constancy in man. My husband,
indeed, was different; but he died before me."
"Pygmalion got his Galathea," said Alfred. "These words were in the
bridal song. I certainly did fall in love with the beautiful statue
that became imbued with life in my arms. But the kindred soul, which
Heaven sends us, one of those angels who can feel with us, think with
us, raise us when we are sinking, I have now found and won. You have
come, Sophie, not as a beautiful form, fascinating the eye, but
prettier, more pleasing than was necessary. You excel in the main
point. You have come and taught the sculptor that his work is but
clay--dust; only a copy of the outer shell of the kernel we ought to
seek. Poor Kala! her earthly life was but like a short journey. Yonder
above, where those who sympathise shall be gathered together, she and
I will probably be almost strangers."
"That is not a kind speech," said Sophie; "it is not a Christian one.
Up yonder, where 'they neither marry nor are given in marriage,' but,
as you say, where spirits shall meet in sympathy--there, where all
that is beautiful shall unfold and improve, her soul may perhaps
appear so glorious in its excellence that it may far outshine mine and
yours. You may then again exclaim, as you did in the first excitement
of your earthly admiration, 'Charming--charming!'"
THE END.
* * * * *