Villa Eden Part 94

He understood how to represent in a very plausible way, that the Professorin--to whom the Cabinetsrathin herself looked up, because she had been the favorite and most influential lady of the Court, even the friend and confidante of the Princess-dowager--that this lady would give to the whole family a new splendor, and surely be the means of their attaining the desired end.

Sonnenkamp succeeded in impressing her so deeply with his sagacity, that Frau Ceres at last yielded, saying,--

"You are, in fact, very wise. I will speak to the tutor's mother."

He now proceeded to give some instructions, how she should bear herself towards her, but, like a spoiled child,--even almost like an irrational animal, Frau Ceres shrieked out, clapped her hands, stamped her feet, crying,--

"I won't have any instructions! not a word more! Bring the lady to me!"

Sonnenkamp went to the Widow, deeply moved and troubled; he wanted to give to her some directions in regard to her interview with his wife, but was afraid of every hint, and only said,--

"My dear little wife has been a little spoiled, and is very nervous."

Eric's mother visited Frau Ceres, and found her lying quietly upon the sofa; she had sense enough to know that the less demonstrative one is, the more effect does one produce upon others.

When the visitor on entering made a very graceful courtesy, Frau Ceres suddenly forgot everything, and before a word could be said, she cried,--

"You must teach me that! I would like to courtesy in that way. Is not that the way they do at Court?"

The visitor knew not what to reply. Is this something worse than a nervous person,--is she insane? She retained self-command enough, however, to say:--

"I can very well conceive that our forms must be rather strange to you, in your free Republic; I think that it is better at the first interview to shake hands."

She extended her hand, which Frau Ceres took, and rose as if forgetting herself.

"You are ill, I will not disturb you any longer," said the Professor's widow.

Frau Ceres considered it would be better to pa.s.s for a sick person, and said,--

"Ah, yes! I am always ill. But I beseech you, remain."

And when the Mother now addressed her, the sound of her voice, its tones of deep feeling, made such an impression upon her excitable nature, that she closed her eyes, and when she opened them, great tear-drops stood upon her long lashes.

The Mother expressed her regret that she had made her shed tears, but Frau Ceres shook her head violently.

"No, no, I thank you. I have not been able to weep for years--these tears have lain here--here." She struck her bosom with violence. "I thank you."

The Mother wanted now to withdraw, but Frau Ceres rose up quickly, went up to her as she stood there struck with astonishment, and shrinking as if from a crazy person, fell on her knees before her, and kissed her hand, crying,--

"Protect me! Be a mother to me; I have never called any one mother; I have never known a mother."

The Mother raised her up, saying,--

"My child, I can be a mother to you--I can and will. I am happy that such fair tasks are a.s.signed me here, tasks that I can lovingly fulfil.

But now be composed."

She led Frau Ceres back to the sofa, carefully helped her to lie down, and covered her with a large shawl; it was an odd complication of soft cus.h.i.+ons in which she always lay m.u.f.fled, as if she were buried.

She held the Mother's hand fast, and sobbed without cessation.

The Mother now extolled their happiness in having each of them such a son, speaking less of Eric than of Roland; and as she went on to relate how in the twilight he had appeared like the transfigured form of her own dead child, Frau Ceres turned towards her and kissed her hand. She proceeded quietly to speak of herself as a person of many peculiarities, which rendered it no easy thing for any one to live with her; she had been in the habit of being too much alone, and she feared that she was not young enough and had not animal spirits sufficient to be the companion of a lady who had every claim to the brilliancy and joy of a stirring life.

Frau Ceres requested her to draw back the curtains a little, and as she saw her more plainly she smiled; but immediately her countenance, with the fine, half-opened mouth, a.s.sumed again the listless look which was its habitual expression; she took the fan and fanned herself.

At last she said,--

"Ah yes, to learn! You cannot think how stupid I am, and yet I would so like to be clever, and I would have learned so many things, but he never wanted me to, and has not let me learn anything, and always said: 'You are fairest and dearest to me just as you are.' Yes, it may be to him, but not to myself. If Madame Perini were not so kind, I don't know indeed what I should do. Do you play whist? Do you love nature? I am very simple, am I not?"

Perhaps Frau Ceres expected that the mother would contradict her, but she did not, only saying:--

"If there is anything that I can teach you, I'll do it cheerfully. I have known other ladies like yourself, and I could tell you why you are always ailing."

"Why! Do you know that? you?"

"Yes, but it is not flattering."

"Ah, no matter; tell me."

"My dear child, you are all the time ill, because you are all the time idle. If a person has nothing to do, then his health gives him something to do."

"Oh, you are wise, but I am weak," said Frau Ceres.

And there was in her an utter helplessness and weakness; she looked upon herself, and was looked upon by Sonnenkamp, as a fragile toy; and at the same time she was indolent, and the least effort was a burden to her. She did not know whether to hear or to see required the greater exertion; but she found the latter the greater bore, for while one was reading one must hold the book and hold one's self in a particular position, and therefore she always let Fraulein Perini read aloud to her; this had the advantage that one could go to sleep whenever there was the inclination.

This was the case now.

Whilst the Mother was speaking, Frau Ceres suddenly let go her hand, and it was soon evident that the reclining one had fallen asleep; Frau Dournay sat there in that chamber furnished splendidly and richly as if it were an apartment in some fairy tale. She held her breath, and did not know what course to take. What is the meaning of all this? Here are riddles in plenty. She did not dare to change her position, for she was afraid of waking the sleeper. The latter turned now and said,--

"Ah, go now, go now,--I will come down soon myself." She left the room.

Sonnenkamp was waiting for her outside.

"How did she seem?" he asked anxiously.

"Very gentle and quiet," replied the Mother. "But I have one request. I hope to cure the excitability or la.s.situde of your wife, but I beg you never to ask me what we have said to each other. If I am to gain her entire confidence, I must be able to say to her in good faith, that what she tells me is told to me alone; and that what she imparts to me will never pa.s.s my lips. Are you willing to promise that we ladies shall do as we like together?"

"Yes," answered Sonnenkamp. It seemed hard for him to consent, but he felt that he must.

CHAPTER III.

A NEIGHBOR SECURED.

Pranken came the next day, and when he met the widow of the Professor, summoned to his aid his most polished manner; she gave him to understand at once, that she regarded him as a son of the house. She did this with so much delicacy and such a charming tact, that Pranken was extremely delighted.