The Harvard Classics Shelf of Fiction - German Part 40

"So that is the way you talk!"

"Exactly, my darling. And when I have paid sufficient attention to my left-hand neighbor, that is, the Countess Lena, I turn to my right-hand neighbor, that is, to Madame the Baroness Dorr...."

Frau Dorr was so delighted that she slapped her knee with a loud noise....

"So I am to converse with Madame the Baroness Dorr? And what shall we talk about? Well, say we talk about mushrooms."

"But, great heavens, mushrooms. About mushrooms, Herr Baron, that would never do."

"Oh why not, why shouldn't it do, dear Frau Dorr? That is a very serious and instructive subject and is more important than you think. I once visited a friend in Poland, a comrade in my regiment and also during the war, who lived in a great castle; it was red and had two huge towers, and was so fearfully old, that you never see anything like it nowadays. And the last room was his living room; for he was unmarried, because he was a woman hater...."

"Is it possible?"

"And everywhere the old rotten boards were trodden through and wherever there were a couple of boards lacking, there was a mushroom bed, and I pa.s.sed by all the mushroom beds, until at last I came to his room."

"Is it possible?" repeated Frau Dorr and added: "Mushrooms! But one cannot always be talking about mushrooms."

"No, not always. But really quite often, and anyway it makes no difference what you talk about. If it isn't mushrooms it is 'champignons,' and if it is not the red castle in Poland it is Schloss Tegel or Saatwinkel, or Valentinswerder. Or Italy or Paris, or the city railway, or whether the Panke should be filled in. It is all the same.

One can always talk a little about anything, whether it is especially pleasing or not. And 'yes' is just as good as 'no.'"

"But," said Lena, "if all the talk is so empty, I am surprised that you should go into such company."

"Oh you see beautiful women and handsome gowns and sometimes you catch glances that will betray a whole romance, if you look sharp. And anyway, it does not last long, so that you still have a chance to make up for lost time at the club. And at the club it is really charming, for there the artificial talk ceases and reality begins. Yesterday I took Pitt's black mare from him."

"Who is Pitt?"

"Oh, those are just names that we have among ourselves, and we use them when we are together. The Crown Prince himself says Vicky, in speaking of Victoria. It really is pleasant that there are such affectionate pet names. But listen, the concert is beginning over there. Can't we open the windows, so as to hear it better? You are already tapping with your foot. How would it do for us to take our places and try a Quadrille or a Francaise? We have three couples: Father Dorr and good Frau Nimptsch, and Frau Dorr and I (I beg the honor) and then comes Lena with Hans."

Frau Dorr agreed at once, but Dorr and Frau Nimptsch declined, the latter because she was too old, the former because he was not used to such fine doings.

"Very well, Father Dorr. But then you must beat time; Lena, give him the tray and a spoon. And now come, ladies. Frau Dorr, your arm. And now Hans, wake up, be lively."

And both pairs actually took their places and Frau Dorr's stateliness visibly increased, as her partner began in a formal, dancing-master's French: "_En avant deux, Pas de Basque_." The poor sleepy freckle-faced boy looked about mechanically and allowed himself to be shoved here and there, but the three others danced as if they knew how, and old Dorr was so delighted that he jumped up and beat time on his tray with his knuckles instead of with his spoon. The spirit of other days seemed to return to Frau Nimptsch also, and since she found nothing better to do, she poked the fire until the flames leaped up.

This went on until the music stopped; Botho led Frau Dorr back to her place, but Lena still stood there, because the poor awkward boy did not know what he ought to do with her. But that suited Botho exactly, for when the music at the garden began again, he began to waltz with her, and to whisper to her, how charming she was, more charming than ever.

They had all grown warm, especially Frau Dorr, who now stood close to the open window. "Lord, how I am s.h.i.+vering," said she suddenly, whereupon Both courteously sprang forward to close the window. But Frau Dorr would not hear of such a thing and said, the fine people were all wild about fresh air, and many of them so much so that the bed coverings froze to their mouths in winter. Their breath was just like the steam from the spout of the kettle. So the window must stay open, she would not give up that point. But if dear Lena had something comforting to give them, something to warm the c.o.c.kles of the heart ...

"Certainly, Frau Dorr, whatever you want. I can make tea, or punch, or better still, I have the cherry brandy, that you gave Mother Nimptsch and me last Christmas for my big Christmas cake."

And before Frau Dorr could decide between punch and tea, the flask of cherry brandy was already there, with small and large gla.s.ses which each could fill according to their own desire. And now Lena went around, the black kettle in her hand, and poured the boiling water into the gla.s.ses. "Not too much, Lena, not too much. Let us get the good of it. Water takes away the strength." And in a moment the room was full of the rising aroma of cherry brandy.

"How nicely you did that," said Botho, as he sipped from his gla.s.s.

"Lord knows, I had nothing yesterday, nor to-day at the club that tasted like this. Hurrah for Lena! But the chief credit of it all belongs to our friend, Frau Dorr, because she had that s.h.i.+vering fit, and so I am going to drink a second health. Frau Dorr; Hurrah for Frau Dorr."

"Long may she live," shouted all the group together, and old Dorr began to thump his tray with his knuckles again.

They all p.r.o.nounced it a delicate drink, far finer than punch extract, which in summer always tastes of sour lemon, because you mostly get old bottles, which have been standing in the hot sun, in shop windows, ever since Shrove Tuesday. But cherry brandy was something wholesome and never spoiled, and rather than poison one's self with that bitter almond poison one ought to take some proper good stuff, at least a bottle.

It was Frau Dorr who made this remark, and her husband, who did not want things to go too far, perhaps because he knew his wife's pet weakness, urged their departure: "There will be another day to-morrow."

Botho and Lena asked them to stay a while longer. But good Frau Dorr, who well knew "that one must yield at the proper time, in order to keep the upper hand," merely said: "Never mind, Lena, I know him; he wants to go to bed with the birds." "Well," said Botho, "what is settled is settled. But at least we will escort the Dorrs home."

And therewith everybody went out, excepting old Frau Nimptsch, who looked after her departing friends amiably, nodding her head, and then got up and seated herself in the big grandfather chair.

CHAPTER V

Lena and Botho paused before the "castle" with the green and red painted tower and asked Dorr with considerable formality for permission to go into the garden and walk there for half an hour. The evening was so fine. Father Dorr muttered that he could not leave his property in better hands, whereupon the young couple took leave, bowing courteously, and went into the garden. Everything was already quiet, and only Sultan, whom they had to pa.s.s, got up, and whimpered until Lena had stroked him. After that he crawled back into his kennel.

In the garden all was perfume and freshness, for all the way along the princ.i.p.al path, between the currant and gooseberry bushes, grew gilly flowers and mignonette, whose delicate perfume mingled with the more powerful odour of the thyme beds. Nothing stirred in the trees, and only the fireflies darted through the air.

Lena was hanging on Botho's arm and they walked together to the end of the garden, where a bench stood between two silver poplars.

"Shall we sit down?"

"No," said Lena, "not now," and she turned into a side path bordered with tall raspberry bushes which nearly overtopped the garden fence. "I love to walk leaning on your arm. Tell me about something--something really pretty. Or ask me about something."

"Very well. Are you willing that I should have more of a friends.h.i.+p with the Dorrs?"

"As far as I am concerned."

"A curious couple. And moreover, I think, they are happy. He has to do as she wishes, and yet he is far cleverer than she."

"Yes," said Lena, "he is cleverer, but then he is miserly and hard-hearted and that makes him docile, because he always has a bad conscience. She looks after him sharply and will not allow it, if he tries to overreach anyone. And that is what he is afraid of, and that makes him yielding."

"Is that all?"

"Perhaps love, too, if it does sound strange. I mean love on his side.

For in spite of his fifty-six years or more he is perfectly wild over his wife, simply because she is stout. Both of them have made me the most wonderful confessions about that. But I confess frankly, she is not to my taste."

"But you are wrong there, Lena; she makes quite a figure."

"Yes," laughed Lena, "she makes a figure, but she has none. Can't you see, that her hips are a hand's breath too high? But you never see anything like that, and 'figure' and 'imposing' are every other word with you, without any concern as to the origin of that 'imposing figure.'"

Chatting and teasing each other thus they paused and stooped down to see if they could find an early strawberry in the bed that lay in front of the hedge and fence. Finally Lena found what she wanted, took the stem of a perfect beauty between her lips and came close up to Botho and looked at him.

He was nothing loth, plucked the berry from her lips and embraced and kissed her.

"My sweet Lena, you did that just right. But just hear how Sultan is barking; he wants to get to you; shall I let him loose?"

"No, if he is here, you are only half mine. And if you keep on talking about 'stately Frau Dorr,' then I have as good as nothing left of you at all."

"Good," laughed Botho, "Sultan may stay where he is. I am contented.

But I want to talk more about Frau Dorr. Is she really so good?"