The Harvard Classics Shelf of Fiction - German Part 52

Frau Nimptsch was alone, as Botho and Lena came in. The room was still and dusky and only the firelight flickered amongst the great shadows that lay across the room. The goldfinch was already asleep in his cage, and there was not a sound but now and then the hissing of the boiling water.

"Good evening, Mutterchen," said Botho.

The old woman returned his greeting and was going to rise from her footstool to draw up the big armchair. But Botho would not allow it and said: "No, Mutterchen, I will sit in my old place."

And he pushed the wooden stool up to the fire.

There was a short pause; but soon he began again: "I have come to-day to bid good-bye and to thank you for all the loving-kindness that I have enjoyed here so long. Yes, I thank you from my heart. I was so happy and always loved to be here. But now I must leave you, and now I can only say that perhaps it is better so."

The old woman did not speak but nodded as if in agreement.

"But I shall not be gone out of the world," Botho went on, "and I shall not forget you. And now give me your hand. That is right. And now good-night."

Hereupon he rose quickly and walked to the door, while Lena clung to his arm. And so they walked as far as the garden gate, without another word being spoken. But then Lena said: "Quick now, Botho. My strength will not hold out any longer; these two days have really been too much.

Farewell, my dearest, and may you be as happy as you deserve to be, and as happy as you have made me. Then you will be happy. And we will not talk about the rest, it is not worth while. There, there."

And she kissed him again and again and then closed the gate. As he stood on the other side of the street, he seemed, when he saw Lena, as if he must turn back for one more word, for one more kiss. But she made an urgent gesture of refusal. And so he walked on down the street, while she, leaning on the gatepost, with her head supported on her arm, gazed after him with wide eyes.

So she stood for a long time until his footsteps had died away in the silence of the night.

CHAPTER XVI

The wedding had taken place about the middle of September on the Sellenthins' estate, Rothenmoor. Uncle Osten, who was usually no speaker, had offered his good wishes to the bridal pair in what was undoubtedly the longest toast of his life. And on the next day the following notice appeared among other family items in the "Kreuzzeitung": "Botho Freiherr von Rienacker, First Lieutenant in the Imperial Regiment of Cuira.s.siers, and Katherine Freifrau von Rienacker, nee Sellenthin have the honor to announce their marriage which took place yesterday." Naturally the "Kreuzzeitung" was not the paper which usually found its way to the Dorrs' dwelling nor to the other house in their garden, but the very next morning there came a letter addressed to Fraulein Magdalena Nimptsch, containing nothing but a newspaper clipping containing the marriage notice. Lena was startled, but regained her self-control more quickly than the sender, apparently some envious acquaintance, might have antic.i.p.ated. That the clipping came from such a source was easily seen from the addition of "Hochwohlgeboren" (well born). But his gratuitous freak of sarcasm, which was intended to double her pain, stood Lena in good stead and diminished the bitter feeling that the news would otherwise have caused her.

Botho and Katherine von Rienacker started for Dresden the very day of the wedding, after both had happily withstood the enticement of a tour of visits among the Neumark relatives. And actually they had no reason to repent their choice, certainly Botho had not, for every day he congratulated himself not only upon his stay in Dresden, but still more upon the possession of a young wife who seemed to know nothing of caprice or ill humor. She actually laughed all day long, and her nature was as bright and clear as her complexion. She was delighted with everything and saw the cheerful side of everything. At their hotel there was a waiter with a forelock that looked like the crest of a breaking wave, and this waiter with his coiffure was a source of constant amus.e.m.e.nt to her, so much so, that although she was not usually very witty, she simply outdid herself in images and comparisons. Botho also was amused and laughed heartily, until suddenly a shade of doubt and even of discomfort began to mingle with his laughter. That is, he began to notice that whatever happened or came in sight, she took notice only of the trivial and the comical side of it.

And at the close of a pleasant fortnight spent in Dresden, as the couple were beginning their homeward journey to Berlin, a short conversation fully enlightened him as to this side of his wife's character. They had a coupe to themselves and as they looked back from the bridge over the Elbe to take farewell of old Dresden and the tower of the Frauenkirche, Botho said, as he took her hand: "And now tell me, Katherine, what was really the most beautiful thing here in Dresden?"

"Guess."

"But that is difficult, for you have your own tastes, and I know you do not care for church music and Holbein's Madonnas...."

"No. You are right there. And since my lord and master is so serious I will not keep him waiting and tormenting himself any longer. There were three things that I was delighted with: first, the confectioner's shop at the Old Market and the Scheffelga.s.sen corner, with those wonderful pasties and liqueurs. Just to sit there...."

"But, Katherine, one could not sit at all, one could scarcely stand, and it seemed as if one had to get every mouthful by force."

"That was just it. That was the very reason, my dear. Whatever one must win by force ..."

And she turned away roguishly pretending to pout, until he kissed her ardently.

"I see," she laughed, "that you really agree with me and as a reward I will tell you the second and third too. The second thing was the summer theater in the suburbs, where we saw 'Monsieur Hercules' and Knaak drummed the Tannhauser March on a rickety old whist table, I never saw anything so comical in all my life, and I don't believe you ever did either. It was really too funny.... And the third ... was 'Bacchus Riding on the He-goat' in the Art Museum and the 'Dog Scratching Himself' by Peter Vischer."

"I thought it was something like that; and when Uncle Osten hears about it he will think you are quite right and he will be fonder of you than ever and will say still oftener than before, 'I tell you, Botho, Katherine ...'"

"And isn't he right?"

"Why surely he is."

And with these words their conversation ceased for some minutes, leaving in Botho's mind, however tenderly he gazed upon his young bride, a somewhat painful impression. The young woman herself had meanwhile no suspicion of what was taking place in her husband's mind, and only said: "I am tired, Botho. So many pictures. It comes over me afterwards.... But [the train was just stopping] what is the noise and excitement outside?"

"That is some Dresden pleasure resort, Kotchenbroda, I think."

"Kotchenbroda? How comical."

And as the train went on again, she stretched herself out and apparently closed her eyes. But she was not asleep and was watching her dear husband between her eyelashes.

On the Landgrafenstra.s.se, which still had houses on one side only, Katherine's mother had in the meantime arranged the home for the young couple, who were much pleased with the comfort that they found awaiting them when they arrived in Berlin at the beginning of October. Fire was burning in the fireplaces of the two front rooms, but the doors and windows stood open, for the autumn air was mild and the fire was only for the sake of cheerfulness and for ventilation. But the most attractive thing was the large balcony with its low-hanging awning, under which one could look straight out over the open country, first over the birch woods and the Zoological Garden and beyond that as far as the northern point of the Grunewald.

Katherine clapped her hands for joy over this beautiful wide view, embraced her mother, kissed Botho and then suddenly pointed to the left, where between scattered poplars and willows a s.h.i.+ngled tower could be seen. "See, Botho, how comical. It looks as if it had been notched three times. And the village near by. What is it called?"

"Wilmersdorf, I believe," stammered Botho.

"Very well, Wilmersdorf. But what do you mean by 'I believe'? You surely must know the names of the villages hereabouts. Only look, mamma, doesn't he look as if he had been betraying a state secret?

Nothing is more comical than these men."

And then they left the balcony, and went into the room near it to take their first luncheon _en famille_: only Katherine's mother, the young couple and Serge, who had been invited as the only guest.

Rienacker's house was scarcely a thousand steps from that of Frau Nimptsch. But Lena did not know that and often pa.s.sed through the Landgrafenstra.s.se, which she would have avoided if she had had the slightest suspicion that Botho lived so near.

Yet it could not long remain a secret to her.

The third week in October was beginning, but it was still like summer and the sun shone so warm, that one could scarcely notice the slight sharpness in the air.

"I must go into town to-day, mother," said Lena. "I have a letter from Goldstein. He wants to speak to me about a pattern that is to be embroidered on the Princess Waldeck's linen. And while I am in town, I shall also go to see Frau Demuth in old Jakobstra.s.se. Otherwise one would never see a soul. But I shall be back at about noon. I shall tell Frau Dorr, so that she will keep an eye on you."

"Never mind, Lena, never mind. I like best to be alone. And Frau Dorr talks so much and always about her husband. And I have my fire. And when the goldfinch chirps, that is company enough for me. But if you could bring me a bag of candy, I have so much trouble with my throat tickling and malt candy is so loosening ..."

"Very well, mother."

And then Lena left the quiet little house and walked first along the Kurfursten Stra.s.se and then the Potsdamer Stra.s.se, to the Spittelmarkt, where the Goldstein Brothers' place of business was. All went well and it was nearly noon. Lena was homeward bound, and this time had chosen to pa.s.s through the Lutzowstra.s.se instead of the Kurfursten Stra.s.se as before. The sun did her good and the bustle and stir on the Magdeburg Square, where the weekly market was being held and everything was being made ready for departure, pleased her so much that she paused to watch the cheerful activity. She was quite absorbed in this and was only aroused when the fire apparatus rushed by her with a great noise.

Lena listened until the rumbling and ringing had vanished in the distance, but then she glanced to the left at the clock tower of the Church of the Twelve Apostles. "Just twelve," said she. "Now I shall have to hurry; she always grows uneasy if I come home later than she expects me." And so she went on down the Lutzowstra.s.se to the square of the same name. But suddenly she paused and did not know which way to turn, for at a little distance she recognised Botho, who was coming directly towards her, with a pretty young lady leaning on his arm. The young lady was speaking with animation and apparently about droll or cheerful things, for Botho was laughing all the time, as he looked down at her. It was to this circ.u.mstance that she owed the fact that she had not been observed long before, and quickly deciding to avoid a meeting with him at any price, she turned to the right of the sidewalk and stepped up to the nearest large show window, before which there was a square iron plate, probably used as a cover for the opening to a cellar. The window itself belonged to an ordinary grocery store, with the usual a.s.sortment of stearine candles and bottles of mixed pickles, in no way uncommon, but Lena stared at them as if she had never seen the like before. And truly it was time, for at this very moment the young couple pa.s.sed close to her and not a word of the conversation between them escaped her.

"Katherine, don't talk so loud," said Botho, "people will be staring at us."

"Let them ..."

"But they must think we are quarreling ..."

"While we are laughing? Quarrelling and laughing at once?" And she laughed again.

Lena felt the thin iron plate on which she stood tremble. A horizontal bra.s.s rod ran across in front of the show window to protect the large pane of gla.s.s and for a moment it seemed to Lena as if she must catch at this rod for help and support, but she managed to stand straight, and only when she could make sure that the pair were far enough away did she turn to walk homeward. She felt her way cautiously along close to the houses and got on well enough at first. But soon she felt as if she were going to faint, and when she reached the next side street that led toward the ca.n.a.l, she turned into it and stepped through an open gate into a garden. It was with difficulty that she dragged herself as far as a little flight of steps that led to a veranda and terrace, and sat down, nearly fainting, on one of the steps.