Bertha Garlan Part 22

And if, after all, they _had_ known who.... Although in that hole of a town there were certainly many who had not so much as heard Emil's name!

If only there was some one in the world to whom she could open her heart!

Frau Rupius--yes, there was Frau Rupius!... But, of course, she was in the habit of going away, of taking trips!... And, to tell the truth, thought Bertha, that was also a matter of indifference to her. She would only like to know how things would eventually turn out so far as she and Emil were concerned, she would like to know how matters actually stood.

It was the uncertainty that was causing her that terrible uneasiness....

Had she only had a love affair with him, after all?... Ah, but why had she not gone to him once again?... But, of course, that was quite impossible!... That letter.... He didn't want to see her, that was it!...

But then, on the other hand, he had sent her flowers....

And now she was back again with her relations. Richard was going to meet her and embrace her in his playful manner. She pushed him away.

"Impudent boy!" she thought to herself. "I know very well what he means by doing that, although he himself does not know. I understand these things--I have a lover in Vienna!..."

The music lesson took its course and, at the end of it, Elly and Richard played as a duet Beethoven's [Footnote: Query--Brahms (translator's note).] "Festival Overture" which was intended by them to be a birthday surprise for their father.

Bertha thought only of Emil. She was nearly being driven out of her mind by this wretched strumming ... no, it was not possible to live on like that, whichever way she looked at it!... She was still a young woman, too.... Yes, that was the secret of it all, the real secret.... She would not be able to live on like that any more.... And yet it would not do for her ... any other man.... How could she ever think of such a thing!...

What a very wicked person she must be, after all! Who could tell whether it had not been that trait in her character which Emil, with his great experience of life, had perceived in her, and which had been the cause of his being unwilling to see her any more?... Ah, those women surely had the best of it who took everything easily, and, when abandoned by one man, immediately turned to another.... But stay, whatever could it be that was putting such thoughts as these into her head? Had Emil, then, abandoned her?... In three or four days she would be in Vienna again; with him; in his arms!... And had she been able to live for three years as she had done?... Three?--Six years--her whole life!... If he only knew that, if he only believed that!

Her sister-in-law came into the room and invited Bertha to have supper with them that evening.... Yes, that was her only distraction: to go out to dinner or supper occasionally at some other house than her own!

If only there was a man in the town to whom she could talk!... And Frau Rupius was going off on her travels and leaving her husband.... Hadn't a love affair, maybe, something to do with that, Bertha wondered.

The music lesson came to an end and Bertha took her leave. In the presence of her sister-in-law, too, she noticed that she had that feeling of superiority, almost of compa.s.sion, which had come over her when she had seen the other ladies. Yes, she was certain that she would not give up that one hour with Emil for a whole life such as her sister-in-law led. Moreover, as she thought to herself as she was walking homewards, she had not been able to arrive at a complete perception of her happiness, which, indeed, had all slipped by so quickly. And then that room, that whole house, that frightful picture.... No, no, it was all really hideous rather than anything else. After all, the only really beautiful moments had been those which had followed, when Emil had accompanied her to her hotel in the carriage, and her head had rested on his breast....

Ah, he loved her indeed; of course, not so deeply as she loved him; but how could that be possible? What a number of experiences he had had in his life! She thought of that now without any feeling of jealousy; rather, she felt a slight pity for him in having to carry so much in his memory. It was quite evident from his appearance that he was not a man who took life easily.... He was not of a cheerful disposition.... All the hours which she had spent with him seemed in her recollection as if encompa.s.sed by an incomprehensible melancholy. If she only knew all about him! He had told her so little about himself ... nothing, indeed, absolutely nothing!... But how would that have been possible on the very first day that they had met again? Ah! if only he really knew her! If she were only not so shy, so incapable of expressing herself!

She would have to write to him again before seeing him.... Yes, she would write to him that very day. What a stupid concoction it was, that letter which she had sent him on the previous day! In truth, he could not have sent her any other answer than that which she had received. She would not write to him either defiantly or humbly.... No, after all, she was his beloved! She who, as she walked along the streets here in the little town, was regarded by every one who met her as one of themselves ... she was the beloved of that magnificent man whom she had wors.h.i.+pped since her girlhood. How unreservedly and unaffectedly she had given herself to him--not one of all the women she knew would have done that!... Ah, and she would do still more! Oh, yes! She would even live with him without being married to him, and she would be supremely indifferent to what people might say ... she would even be proud of her action! And later on he would marry her, after all ... of course he would. She was such a capable housekeeper, too.... And how much good it would be sure to do him, after the unsettled existence which he had been leading during the years of his wanderings, to live in a well-ordered house, with a good wife by his side, who had never loved any man but him.

And now she was home again. Before dinner was served she had made all her preparations for writing the letter. She ate her dinner with feverish impatience; she scarcely allowed herself time to cut up Fritz's dinner and give it to him. Then, instead of undressing him herself and putting him to bed for his afternoon sleep, as she was always accustomed to do, she told the maid to attend to him.

She sat down at the desk and the words flowed without effort from her pen, as though she had long ago composed in her head the whole letter.

"My EMIL, MY BELOVED, MY ALL!

"Since I have returned home again I have been possessed by an overwhelming desire to write to you, and I should like to say to you over and over again how happy, how infinitely happy, you have made me. I was angry with you at first when you wrote and said you could not see me on Sunday. I must confess that to you as well, for I feel that I am under the necessity of telling you everything that pa.s.ses in my mind.

Unfortunately, I could not do so while we were together; I had not the power of expressing myself, but now I can find the words and you must, I fear, put up with my boring you with this scribble. My dearest, my only one--yes, that you are, although it seems to me that you were not quite so certain of it as you ought to have been. I beseech you to believe that it is true. You see, I have no means, of course, wherewith to tell you this, other than these words, Emil, I have never, never loved any man, but you--and I will never love any other. Do with me as you will. I have no ties in the little town where I am living now--on the contrary, indeed, I often find it a terrible thing to be obliged to live my life here. I will move to Vienna, so as to be near you. Oh, do not fear that I will disturb you! I am not alone, you see, I have my boy, whom I _idolize_. I will cut down my expenses, and, in the long run, why shouldn't I succeed in finding pupils even in a large town like Vienna just as I do here, perhaps, indeed, even more easily than here, and in that way improve my position? Yet that is a secondary consideration, for I may tell you that it has long been my intention to move to Vienna if only for the sake of my dearly loved boy, when he grows older.

"You cannot imagine how stupid the men are here! And I can no longer bear to look at any one of them at all, since I have again had the happiness of being in your company.

"Write to me, my dearest! Yet you need not trouble to send me a whole long letter. In any case I shall be coming to Vienna again this week. I would have had to do so in any event, because of some pressing commissions, and you will then be able to tell me everything--just what you think of my proposal, and what you consider best for me to do. But you must promise me this, that, when I live in Vienna, you will often visit me. Of course, no one need know anything about it, if you do not care that they should. But you may believe me--every day on which I may be allowed to see you will be a red-letter day for me and that, in all the world, there is n.o.body who loves you in such a true and life-long manner as I do.

"Farewell, my beloved!

"Your

"BERTHA."

She did not venture to read over what she had written, but left the house at once so as to take the letter herself to the railway station. There she saw Frau Rupius, a few paces in front of her, accompanied by a maid who was carrying a small valise.

What could that mean?

She caught up Frau Rupius, just as the latter was going into the waiting room. The maid laid the valise on the large table in the centre of the room, kissed her mistress's hand, and departed.

"Frau Rupius!" exclaimed Bertha, a note of inquiry in her voice.

"I heard that you had returned already. Well, how did you get on?" said Frau Rupius, extending her hand in a friendly way.

"Very well--very well indeed, but--"

"Why, you are gazing at me as though you were quite frightened! No, Frau Bertha, I am coming back again--no later than to-morrow. The long journey that I had in view came to nothing, so I have had to--settle on something else."

"Something else?"

"Why, of course, staying at home. I shall be back again to-morrow. Well, how did you get on?"

"I told you just now--very well."

"Yes, of course, you did tell me before. But I see you are going to post that letter, are you not?"

And then for the first time Bertha noticed that she was still holding the letter to Emil in her hand. She gazed at it with such enraptured eyes that Frau Rupius smiled.

"Perhaps you would like me to take it with me? It is to go to Vienna, I presume?"

"Yes," answered Bertha, and then she added resolutely, as though she was glad to be able to say it out at last: "to him."

Frau Ropius nodded her head, as if satisfied. But she neither looked at Bertha nor made any reply.

"I am so glad that I have met you again!" said Bertha. "You are the only woman here, you know, whom I trust; indeed, you are the only woman who could understand anything like this."

"Ah, no," said Frau Rupius to herself, as though she were dreaming.

"I do envy you so, because to-day in a few short hours you will see Vienna again. How fortunate you are!"

Frau Rupius had sat down in one of the leather armchairs by the table.

She rested her chin on her hand, looked at Bertha, and said:

"It seems to me, on the other hand, that it is you who are fortunate."

"No, I must, you see, remain here."

"Why?" asked Frau Rupius. "You are free, you know. But go and put that letter into the box at once, or I shall see the address, and so learn more than you wish to tell me."

"I will, though not because of that--but I should be glad if the letter went by this train and not later."

Bertha hurried into the vestibule, posted the letter and at once returned to Anna, who was still sitting in the same quiet att.i.tude.

"I might have told you everything, you know," Bertha went on to say; "indeed I might say that I wished to tell you before I actually went to Vienna ... but--just fancy, isn't it strange? I did not venture to do so."

"Moreover at that time, too, there probably had not been anything to tell," said Frau Rupius, without looking at Bertha.

Bertha was amazed. How clever that woman was! She could see into everybody's thoughts!