TWO DISCONTENTED FATHERS.
A forest bridle-path. The ground is covered with gnarled, twisted
roots, and the way is bordered with dark pines, and firs somewhat
lighter in tone, between which only a narrow strip of spring sky shines
down upon the two riders pursuing the dim pathway. Their horses, slowly
walking abreast, seem by no means content to saunter thus; the chestnut
upon which the man is mounted champs its bit impatiently, and the gray
by its side pricks its ears, but the girl upon the back of the latter
is as interested as her companion in the conversation going on between
them, and neither pays any heed to the signs of their steeds'
impatience, while the groom riding at some distance behind them is
enjoying a huge sandwich that he has produced from his pocket, in full
security from observation.
"It is too vexatious to know nothing about it all!" the girl exclaimed.
"I am almost ashamed never to have been in Berlin."
"But, good heavens, you are so young, Adela!" her companion rejoined.
"If we are to continue friends, Walter, you will not begin again about
my fifteen years, of which there can be no further mention after next
month, when I shall be sixteen," was the irritated reply. "I am in
reality much, much older, as you know, and I know that I look older.
Only the other day Lieutenant Muellheim took me for eighteen; and if
papa would only allow me to dress suitably, and if it were not for that
stupid Almanach de Gotha that tells everybody our ages----!" She sighed
pathetically.
Walter laughed. "That sigh would sound more natural from the lips of a
lady past her prime than from those of a budding girl in her teens," he
said; adding instantly, with a meaning glance at his companion, "You
must not look so angry with me, Adela dear. If you refuse to allow me
more license in speaking than you accord to the rest of the world, I
shall address you as Fraeulein von Hohenstein and think all our
good-comradeship at an end. Must I do so? In fact, you certainly are
too much of a great lady to be my 'good comrade' any longer." He spoke
without irony, and there was a mournful earnestness in his fine eyes.
She gave her horse a light cut with her whip, that his sudden start
might give her the chance to conceal the bright blush that overspread
her face. Then she looked up, half pouting, half in entreaty, and said,
"If you want to tease me, Walter, I can't see why you came for me to
ride; you might as well have stayed at home."
Walter smiled, and saluted with his riding-whip. "Well, then, let us be
good comrades for the future, as neighbors' children ought to be," he
cried.
Her reply was a merry glance from her blue eyes.
They had reached the borders of the forest, and before them a well-kept
road, bordered by fine old trees, led directly up to an imposing pile
of buildings.
"Let us have one more canter," said Adela; and away flew the two horses
so suddenly that the groom behind them was, in his surprise, nearly
choked by his last mouthful of sandwich, and followed his mistress
coughing and gasping all the way up the avenue to the court-yard, where
the two riders drew rein.
"It has really grown so late that I cannot come in with you," said
Walter. "I must hurry home; you know we are terribly punctual about our
meals at Eichhof."
"Well, then, good-by; for only a short time, I hope," said Adela,
giving her comrade her hand, and then vanishing with the groom behind
the court-yard gate, while Walter took the road to Eichhof.
He was the third and youngest son of the Baron or Freiherr von Eichhof.
A few days previously he had passed a brilliant preparatory examination
in Berlin, and was now spending a few weeks at Eichhof before leaving
home for some university.
As he rode on he looked so grave and thoughtful that one would hardly
have suspected in him the budding student for whom, so thinks the
world, everything must be _couleur de rose_. And yet it was the thought
of this very student-time that occupied Walter now day and night. He
knew that his father had destined him for the study of law, whilst his
own wishes led him in a contrary direction. He knew further that his
wishes would meet with obstinate opposition, and he had therefore
avoided hitherto all explanations with his father. This state of things
he felt could not possibly continue longer, and he was pondering, as he
rode on thus thoughtfully, how he should clearly explain his views.
Whilst Walter was preparing for a conversation with his father that
would in all probability be far from agreeable, Adela was in the midst
of an interview of a like nature.
The Baron von Hohenstein was in fact standing at the hall door as his
young daughter reached it. He was just inspecting some young horses of
his own breeding, from which he wished to select one for the use of his
son in the capital. A magnificent gelding that had been judged by him
quite worthy to support his son's soldierly form, and to maintain the
reputation of his stud, had just been discovered to be lame. The
Freiherr turned angrily from the horse to his daughter.
"You have been gone very long, Adela," he called to her. "And it's
great nonsense your riding half the day with Walter Eichhof; you're too
old for such pranks."
Adela curled her lip rebelliously as she dismounted, and without a word
took her father's arm and drew him with her into the house.
"Papa," she said, "you are always saying, 'You are not old enough for
this, you are too young for that,' and so on. What is the matter with
me, then, that I am always too old or too young?"
But the Freiherr was not disposed to jest to-day.
"Nonsense!" he growled. "I may not think you old enough to wear a
train, but you look sufficiently like a young lady to make people stare
when they see you always with that school-boy."
"I beg pardon, papa, Walter has passed his examination."
"What is that to me? The long and the short of it is, that I won't have
you riding with him."
"But, papa, Thea Rosen rode with Bernhard Eichhof when he was a
lieutenant and she was only sixteen."
"That's an entirely different affair. Theresa Rosen was afterwards
betrothed to Bernhard Eichhof, and has done very well for herself. But
when such rides end in no betrothal they are a great folly; and if a
fledgling scarcely out of the nest should have any entanglement with a
young fellow who has neither money nor prospects, it would be a greater
folly still; and I am not the man to allow my daughter to make such a
fool of herself."
Adela had grown pale, and she looked at her father in a kind of terror
as she left his side and slipped out of the room. What was all this?
Betrothal? Such a thing had never entered her head. And to Walter? It
was all perfect nonsense. Walter was her good comrade. What could put
such ideas into her papa's head? And must she give up the rides which
had been such a pleasure to her? No; it was simply impossible. She
would tell Thea and Alma Rosen about it. What would they say? And
Walter? Should she tell Walter too? She blushed, and discovered that it
would not be easy to tell Walter. And he really had grown very tall and
handsome since his last vacation. She must watch him, and see if he had
any idea of falling in love with her. How hard it was to have no mother
to turn to at such a time! Mademoiselle Belmont, her governess, was not
at all a person to invite confidence. Adela fell into a revery, and
then looked into her mirror.
"I wonder whether Walter noticed that I dress my hair differently?" she
thought; "and does he think it becoming? I can ask him that, at all
events, when I see him next."
Meanwhile poor Walter was thinking of anything rather than of the
fashion of Adela's hair.
The Countess Eichhof, his mother, had withdrawn to her room after
dinner, and Walter was sitting on the castle terrace with his father,
or, more correctly speaking, was walking restlessly to and fro, while
his father, leaning hack in a comfortable arm-chair, was smoking a
cigarette. Count Eichhof, in spite of his years and silvery hair, was a
tall, handsome man, with sparkling eyes and ruddy complexion. The early
bleaching of his locks was a family inheritance, and became excellently
well the present representative of the Eichhof estate and title.
In his youth the Count had been an officer in the Guards, in the same
regiment where were his two elder sons at present, and where he had so
enjoyed life as to become convinced that it was altogether a capital
invention, and might still be very entertaining even with three
grown-up sons about him. He was now watching with a kind of curiosity
the manner in which these same sons would turn it to account.
The eldest had betrothed himself quite young.
"He is a susceptible fellow,--he gets his temperament from me," the
Count said, with a laugh.
The second, Lothar, was forever at odds with his income, which never
sufficed for his expenses.
"He is sowing his wild oats with a free hand,--a regular
spendthrift,--but he gets that from me. I was just like him," the Count
said, and laughed again.
And now it was Walter's turn.
In conformity to the wishes of his mother, whose family were all
diplomatists and courtiers, he was not destined to enter the army, but
was to pursue a juridical career. The Countess already saw in him a
future ambassador or minister; the Count regarded him with a curious
mixture of compassion and resignation.
"Our youngest child really should have been a daughter," he was wont to
say. "Since that's impossible, they are going to make a quill-driver of
him. Well, well, there's no help for it. I must make some concessions,
and I had my own way with the two elder boys."
Thus, instead of entering a military school, Walter had been placed
under the care of a distant relative of the Count, residing in Berlin,
where he enjoyed the advantages of the principal preparatory school in
the capital, to the surprise of his father's 'good friends and
neighbors,' who thought that a first-class provincial establishment
would have served the boy's turn quite as well, and even better.
"It is a good thing for Walter to become familiar with the capital, and
to feel at home there while he is young," the Countess observed,
without explaining, or indeed understanding herself, in what this 'good
thing' consisted.
"Let him go to Berlin," thought the Count; "he'll have a chance there
to see his brothers and his cousins in the Guards more often than
elsewhere; and the deuce is in it if, after passing his examinations,
the boy does not 'boot and saddle' and be a soldier. I know I should
have done so in his place."
And now the 'boy' had reached this point of his career, and had already
been one week at home without uttering a word upon the subject.
"There's not much of me in him," the Count thought, smoking his
cigarette, as he watched his youngest son pace the terrace to and
fro,--"not much of me; but he's a handsome fellow for all."
"'Tis a pity; your figure would suit a hussar's uniform much better
than that dress-coat," he said aloud, involuntarily. "Walter stood
still, and observed, smiling, that he could easily serve his year in
the hussars.
"Are you really determined then to stick to the quill?" his father
asked, incredulously. "You mean to go to the university?"
"Most certainly, father," Walter replied, seating himself beside the
Count. "And, since we are upon the subject, let me tell you that I have
long desired to discuss my future career with you."
"Aha! you want to change the programme?"
"Yes, father, it is my sincere desire to do so; but----"
"Now, that you get from me, Walter," the Count interrupted his son,
with a laugh. "I should have done just so; there's no ignoring this
soldier-blood of ours."
Walter leaned forward and fixed his eyes upon the marble pavement of
the terrace. "I did not mean that, sir," he said, in a low tone.
The Count looked at him in surprise.
"You don't mean that?" he repeated. "What the deuce do you mean, then?"
"I wish to continue my studies, but I have not the slightest
predilection for the law," the young man began again.
The Count looked at his son as though he were speaking some unknown
tongue.
"What is there for one of your name save the law or the army?" he
asked, his expression, which had hitherto been one of amusement,
suddenly becoming very serious. "You must be aware that those are the
only careers open to a nobleman."
"Both cost too much money and insure no independence. As a lieutenant
of the Guards, or as an ambassadorial attache, my expenses would be
very great."
"The like of this I never before imagined!" the Count exclaimed, with a
resounding slap upon his knee. "The fellow is my son, nineteen years
old; and is thinking of the amount of his expenses. What the deuce put
that into your head?"
"I know that our property lies chiefly in real estate, and that Lothar
uses a great deal of money," Walter replied, shyly.
"Ha, ha!" laughed the Count. "You are a most extraordinary specimen of
an Eichhof. I can't tell where you got that economic vein; but since
there it is, let me tell you something, my boy. The net income of the
Eichhof estates amounts to some hundred and fifty thousand marks. I
have so improved and repaired everywhere that nothing more is required
in that quarter; and we are not going to Berlin any more, it is too
much for your mother's nerves. Well, then, we can easily live, and live
well, upon sixty thousand marks a year. Therefore, if you use only
sixty thousand marks yearly for the next five years, we shall have laid
up a capital of four hundred and fifty thousand marks, without
reckoning the interest. Add to that about a hundred thousand marks of
income derived from other sources, and--you need not tell Lothar, for
he spends quite enough,--but you can easily see that you will be very
comfortable one of these days. We enjoyed our youth. Age exacts less of
life; it will not be hard for us to retrench our expenses somewhat.
And since there never was an Eichhof who died before he was at least
fifty-five,--most of them live to be seventy or eighty,--there is quite
time enough to save money. Poor fellow! your prudence is quite thrown
away."
The Count was always rather inclined to pity his youngest son, and he
did so now from the bottom of his heart, as he twisted himself a fresh
cigarette.
But Walter did not yet seem quite satisfied.
"You are very kind to your children, sir," he began once more, after a
pause; "but it was not only pecuniary considerations that influenced my
desire to change my studies. There is a profession which I should
embrace with enthusiasm, yes, which would even be more attractive to
me, could I cease to see in it a means of income. There is a study that
interests me far more than that of law,--a science to which I should
gladly devote any talent that I may possess."
"Well, well, if we must discuss the matter, at least speak
intelligibly, Walter," the Count exclaimed, impatiently. "What's all
this about profession and science?"
"Father," Walter said, taking his hand and looking full into his face
with sparkling eyes and flushed cheeks, "I want to be a naturalist and
a physician."
If some one had informed the Count that Castle Eichhof was to be
immediately converted into a lunatic asylum, he could not have looked
more amazed and indignant than now upon hearing his son declare that he
wished to be a physician.
"Physician?" he repeated. "Physician!"
He rose from his arm-chair and stood proudly erect. "You are insane,
Walter!" he said, angrily. But with the anger there was evidently
mingled a large share of that compassion upon which Walter seemed now
to have established a special claim.
Walter, too, had risen, and looked frankly and honestly at his father.
"It is the only calling for which I shall ever really care," he said,
warmly, "and I know that I could devote myself to it heart and soul. I
entreat you, do not force me into another career for which I am quite
unfit. Give your consent to what, believe me, is no passing whim of
mine. I have had opportunity to observe this calling in all its
aspects. I pondered the matter earnestly before mentioning it to you.
I----"
"Enough!" exclaimed the Count, and a dark shadow clouded his usually
jovial face. "Enough of this nonsense! You may be in earnest, Walter,
but I,--I too am just as much in earnest, and I solemnly declare to you
that I never will consent that an Eichhof--a son of mine--should
embrace such a senseless career. I will not have it; do you understand?
I will not have it; and my will must be your law."
And the Count left the terrace with an echoing tread, while Walter
stood still, utterly cast down.
"I knew it," he murmured, "and yet--and yet----"
He threw himself into the arm-chair that his father had left, and
leaned his head on his hand.
Nevertheless there must have been in his veins some particle of the
soldier-blood of the Eichhofs, for he had not sat there long lost in
thought, when he suddenly sprang up, saying,--
"Well, that was the first attack, and it has been repulsed. Now for
besieging the fortress, which may yield at last."
But the Count did not yield. He persisted in his refusal, and the
Countess shed tears over Walter's 'inconceivable desire.' She was sure
the idea must have been suggested to him by some association unfitting
his rank and position, and she was, as we shall see, not far wrong in
her surmises.
There followed some very disagreeable days at Castle Eichhof, and the
result was that Walter, with a heavy heart, resolved to conform to his
parents' wishes, and at least to attempt the study of law. He could not
see how to act otherwise at present. He must, he thought, furnish this
proof of his willingness to obey, but in secret he did not relinquish
the hope of one day carrying out his own plans. The Count was seriously
out of sorts for a few days, but upon Walter's submission his brow
cleared again, and his thoughts turned from this annoying intermezzo to
the approaching Easter holidays, when he expected his two other sons at
Castle Eichhof, which should once more be, as he expressed it, "the
headquarters of youthful fun and frolic."
"The boys must be entertained when they come home," was his watchword.
The Countess had the ball-room newly decorated, and made out lists for
dinner- and dancing-parties. Walter was a great deal alone in the
library writing letters, and took many a lonely ride. He rode once to
Rollin to invite Adela Hohenstein to ride with him, but the Baron
declared that the physician had forbidden so much horseback exercise,
and Adela's manner towards him was so strangely altered that, instead
of confiding his grief to her as he had intended to do, he soon rode
home again.
"Adela is playing the young lady, I see,--she really coquetted with me
to-day," he said to himself; "but I am no longer in the mood to be
entertained by her upon the subject of the fashion in which her hair is
dressed. If she will no longer be my good comrade, she may let it
alone. These young girls are very little good after all."
Still, oddly enough, he thought oftener than usual of Adela that day,
and when he was occupied with the most serious plans for the future her
fair curly head would intrude upon his thoughts in a most unnecessary
and uncalled-for manner. "She certainly has grown extremely pretty of
late,--there is no doubt of that," he thought.