Villa Eden Part 136

She also liked a gla.s.s of wine, and was rallied on that account. She begged Eric to defend her, and he replied:--

"That's easily done. It's a romantic absurdity to look upon it as a fine thing for a girl not to take pleasure in eating and drinking; and drinking wine is a.s.suredly not an unfeminine act. Isn't drinking wine a much pleasanter thing to see than eating meat, nouris.h.i.+ng one's self with animal food?"

Everybody laughed except Manna, who looked at Eric with an unmoved face. Strange how this man gives a surprising turn to every thought, and induces surprising turns of thought in other people!

Manna felt as if she were driven out of the house by Lina's presence.

Only at Frau Dournay's, for whom Lina entertained a holy awe, could Manna get any time for being alone; she felt herself in concealment when she fled to the green cottage, and by this means she came nearer to the Professorin, almost in spite of herself. Her uniform serenity of soul, her never-failing willingness to devote herself to others, were perceived by Manna, and she was startled at hearing her say,--

"You wanted to make a request of me, dear child. Why do you hold back?"

"I, a request? What request?"

"You would like that Lina should come here, but you avoid acknowledging this to me and to her. If you will honestly confess to me that you would like this, I will arrange the matter."

Manna confessed that she had not had the courage to express her wish.

By the next day Lina was settled at the cottage with the Professorin, and there she was merry as a cricket, and enlivened the whole house with her cheerfulness, and her fresh bubbling gaiety alone. Wherever she was, walking, standing, or sitting, she sang to herself like a bird on the branch, and the b.r.e.a.s.t.s of the hearers were refreshed. The Aunt played an accompaniment for her songs, and the clear, bell-like tone of her voice was full of fresh health and bright joy. She sang without the least effort, and her love added a tone of deep feeling to her singing, which one would not have supposed she possessed.

She was perfectly undisciplined, but she was very particular about her dress, especially since she had been in love, and she liked to look at herself in the gla.s.s. But to bother herself about the inner life,--"That's not my style," was her uniform manner of speaking. She lived her own life, was a Catholic, because she was born so, and it was too much trouble to make any change. She laughed, sang and danced; yesterday is gone, and to-morrow will look out for itself. Amongst all these persons who bore a heavy burden in their souls, who were imposing some heavy task upon themselves, Lina was the only light-hearted child of nature; and she was regarded by those who looked upon her rather with envious than contemptuous eyes.

"Ah! could one but be like her!" sighed each one in his own way.

Lina, gradually, became less demonstrative and excitable through the quiet influence of the Professorin. It gave her pleasure to be able to understand a great deal of what the Professorin said; but there were many things beyond her comprehension. What does it matter? One must not take all there is in the dish,--one must leave something for others.

It was beautiful to see Manna coming in her bright summer dress through the park to the cottage. But she manifested to the Professorin only a respectful confidence; she always addressed her as Madame, and spoke to her in French, the language she had been accustomed to use at the convent. To all questions she gave direct answers.

"Had you any particular friend at the convent?" the Professorin once asked.

"No, it is not allowed. One must not show any special affection, but treat all with an equal love."

"If it would not weary you, I should like to ask another question."

"Oh, you do not weary me in the least. I like to talk of the convent better than any thing else; I think of it all the time. Ask what you please."

"Had you a particularly confidential relation with any one of the ladies?"

Manna mentioned the name of the Superior, and was greatly surprised to hear the Professorin extol the beauty of such a life as hers; that there could be nothing more blissful than to confer peace and joy upon young children, to aid them to become strong, to overcome the trials of existence. It was a life that death could not change, and in which the sorrow of parting and absence could never be known.

The Professorin repeated that she should regard it as a crime, to say a single word that should shake a soul desiring to devote itself to such a life.

"Dear child, thou hast chosen the right path according to thy light."

Manna bowed, and she seemed transfigured. It did not occur to her that the Professorin had spoken to her all at once so affectionately. But now she shrank into herself with alarm. Is this not one of the temptations? Does not this woman praise her, enter into her utmost soul, in order to win her over and seduce her from the faith? A glance of suspicion shot from those youthful eyes upon the elderly lady. And yet Manna returned, again and again, to the Professorin, as is if she were fleeing from something, and could find concealment only there.

Frau Dournay's uniform serenity of soul, her perpetual willingness to devote herself to the service of others, had a magnetic attraction for her, and before she was aware of it, she formed more intimate relations, and became more confidential with the Professorin than she had ever believed possible.

The struggle and the vacillation of the girl's young heart were revealed first of all to the Professorin. As they were sitting once in the garden, having fortunately declined to go with Lina, Roland, and Eric, on an excursion upon the Rhine, Manna said, looking timidly around,--

"Why should it be a sin to take delight in nature? Is not joy itself a sort of devotion?"

The Professorin making no reply. Manna said with pressing earnestness:--

"Do speak, I entreat you."

"A writer," replied she, "whom you do not probably revere as we do, has said: G.o.d loves better to see a heart filled with joy than with sorrow."

"What's the man's name?"

"Gotthold Lessing."

Manna requested to have the pa.s.sage pointed out. The Professorin brought the book, and from that time there was a free interchange of thought between them. The Professorin continued very cautious in her remarks, and repeated that she should look upon it as a sacrilege to deprive a believing heart of its religious convictions.

Manna declared that she was strong enough to enter into the thoughts of the children of the world, as they are termed, without getting lost herself.

The Professorin repeatedly warned and advised her, but she insisted that she had returned to the world in order to perceive what it had to proffer to her, and then to renounce all freely. She expressed a firm determination not to become Pranken's wife, in fact, not to be married at all. She came very near disclosing to the Professorin, that she wanted to devote herself as an expiatory sacrifice, not from compulsion, but, through heavenly grace, freely renouncing all the delights of the world.

"To you," said Manna, with tearful eyes, "I could tell all."

It would have required only a single word, one encouraging appeal, and Manna would have told everything to the Mother. But she earnestly entreated not to be made the repository of any secret; not because she could not keep it faithfully, but it would be a burden to her, and she should never feel at peace if she should divert a being formed to live in the purest sphere from occupying her true place. She spoke very guardedly, choosing her words carefully, for Manna must not have the least suspicion that she also was hiding a secret; she simply let it be understood that she favored the maiden's resolution to take the veil.

Something of Sonnenkamp's nature seemed awakened in Manna's soul. Was this woman encouraging her only in order to gain a firmer hold upon her? But then, as she looked up into the quiet, calm face of the Mother, she felt impelled to fall upon her neck and beg her forgiveness for having had such unjust thoughts of her. The Professorin saw the conflict in the child, but gave it a different interpretation; she had no suspicion that distrust of the worst kind was felt by Manna.

As Manna pa.s.sed through the new door on her way home through the meadows, she suddenly stood still. Here she had stood on the first morning, here had the thought darted through her soul that she must often pa.s.s through this gateway, over this path, engaged in deep struggles, and contending for victory. This foreboding had now been realized.

CHAPTER V.

BE LED INTO TEMPTATION.

Manna went regularly to church, and prayed with constant and unchanging fervor, but a peculiar shyness held her back from the parsonage. She said constantly to herself that the Priest himself had told her that it would be well to avoid seeing him for a time, till she had become familiar with her new life.

Often, in the midst of conversation with the Professorin, a fear came over her that she was binding herself too closely to the life of another, and she felt that she must regain her power of looking beyond all the varying phenomena of the world. She at last came to the determination to go to the Priest, to whom she began to explain and excuse her long absence; but he interrupted her mildly, saying that she need tell him nothing, he had read her soul, and believed that he understood her feelings; she must appear to herself, like a person who, returning to earth after his departure from it, watches the actions of men, their restless days and nights of painful dreams, their attempts to satisfy or to benumb the conscience.

He impressed it upon her that she ought to judge people gently; the worst sinners indeed were those who believed they knew what they were doing, and it was most difficult to pardon them; but if we take the highest views, these were the ones who most needed forgiveness, because, in spite of what they say, they really do not know what they do, and we can always say of them. Lord, forgive them. There is nothing left for us, but silently to pray for their salvation, imploring the merciful Father to grant them redemption.

Without mentioning any name, he then went on to represent to her that there are some people, who, with outward piety and self-complacency, perform so-called good works, and borrow holy words for the expression of thoughts far removed from what is really divine.

He thus described the Professorin without naming her.

Then he delineated others, who, full of knowledge, swerve constantly from the central truth, and who, without having any fixed goal of their own, imagine that they are able to lead others.

Thus he delineated Eric.

With the greatest caution he painted the men of the world, who wish to force the Lord of heaven and earth to show them favor, and who with their scoffs banish all humility. He openly named as examples Doctor Richard and the Weidmann circle, but at the same time he had Sonnenkamp in view, but the daughter must make this application for herself.