A Twofold Life Part 27

The dressing was quickly finished. "The new star is magnificent," said Anton.

_Heinrich_ looked at his image in the mirror with the satisfaction of a man who knows he is handsome, and reckons his beauty among his own merits, as if he had compelled nature to give him the form he desired.

"I must go to Cornelia after dinner and show myself to her. She understands and values my beauty better than any one else," he thought, pus.h.i.+ng the order straight. "Besides, it will do no harm to let her see some of my importance as a courtier; old Veronica takes the matter too easily. It is not I, but she, who lulls the dear creature into dreams for which I am not responsible. It is not I who deceive her, but Veronica, when she a.s.sumes as a matter of course a.s.surances I never gave; and yet I cannot, by a premature contradiction, destroy my whole happiness. I would far rather resolve to verify them, if there could be no other arrangement." A ray of sunlight fell upon the diamonds in his order and made them glitter. "Do you wish to warn me, you star of honor, that you sparkle so? No, I will not forget you. Let others yearn for the stars of you unattainable distance; my earthly wishes depend upon you, that you may not pale before the sun, but with your rays make your chosen one s.h.i.+ne forth from the darkness of obscurity, and distinguish him from the ma.s.ses. With you on my heart, and Cornelia's love within it, what do I need more?"

A servant announced that the carriage was waiting.

_Heinrich_ took his gold-embroidered hat, and smiling, threw himself upon the soft cus.h.i.+ons. The beautiful white horses tossed their heads, and dashed away through sunlit avenues and crowds of gayly-dressed foot-pa.s.sengers.

The dinner, the first which had been given since the marriage, was magnificent. The court displayed its greatest splendor. Ottilie herself was one of the most stately personages who ever graced a throne.

Although no smile rested upon her lips, she did the honors in a most winning manner, and was gracious even to _Heinrich_, although no more so than to all others. The prince, however, treated him with marked distinction, and once whispered, casting a well-pleased glance at Ottilie, "You were right; she is a real princess." The princes, princesses, and courtiers who were present followed their master's example and loaded Ottmar with civilities; had never been so attractive or so much admired. He stood at the zenith of his favor at court; and when, after the dinner was over, he drove to Cornelia, he scarcely saw that it was already dusk, so brightly did the lights, the white necks, the sparkling glances, the diamonds, and the gold-embroidered uniforms still gleam before his eyes; glittering silken robes rustled around him; smiling faces looked forth longingly from behind costly bouquets.

The material comfort of the moment was too great not to rouse the other half of his nature. _Henri_ alighted when the carriage stopped. He pulled the bell, and the door of the silent house slowly opened. The staircase was dark. The black form of a servant glided by and ushered him into the anteroom. The salon stood open; he entered. It, too, was dark and empty; everything was in disorder: the furniture was pushed back, and there were no roses blooming on the flower-stand. _Henri_ felt strangely oppressed. The gloomy silence ill suited his mood. A glimmer of light and a dull murmur of voices penetrated through a door which was partly ajar. He opened it, and stood as if rooted to the spot. Several women were engaged in dressing a corpse. _Henri_ pressed his hand to his brow; was he awake, or did some dream torture him with its sudden changes, in order to show him in a single hour the splendor of the world and the end of all lives? Just at that moment Cornelia, who had been completely absorbed in her mournful occupation, suddenly perceived him, came forward in her mourning robes, looking very pale and languid, and drew him aside.

"My dear Cornelia," said _Henri_, kissing her tearful eyes, "what has happened since yesterday? I can scarcely trust my senses. What a contrast!"

"Ah, _Heinrich_ thank G.o.d, you have come at last! Ever since early this morning I have borne this terrible sorrow alone, longing in vain for your warm heart. Alas, how heavily such an unexpected blow falls!"

"My poor, sweet love, you are trembling as if in an ague-fit! Who would have thought of this? Kind Veronica dead!"

She nestled timidly in his arms. "_Heinrich_, my heart aches terribly, and besides I feel this horror of death. You do not know what it is to dress a cold body which is no longer the dear one it personates."

"Then leave the others to finish the task, and stay with me, my angel."

"We have finished it, and they want to bring her in here. You must go into the tea-room, or they will see you."

"Willingly. But now leave everything to these women and come with me.

You are completely worn out."

"Yes, I will stay with you. I can no longer be a witness," said Cornelia; then gave the necessary orders to the servants, and went into the tea-room with _Henri_. They had scarcely entered it when they heard pieces of furniture pushed aside, and the creaking of the coffin, which, when once heard, is never forgotten. Cornelia trembled violently, sank down beside _Henri_, and bursting into tears, hid her face upon his breast until the noise was over. Then she looked up. "You think me very weak, do you not? I have kept up all day, but now my strength is exhausted; terror has overpowered me."

_Henri_ gently raised her and drew her on his knee. She made no resistance, but threw her arms around his neck; her head sank wearily upon his shoulder, and joy and sorrow, deadly horror and sweet content, began to mingle strangely.

"Oh, do not give way!" said _Henri_ to himself, while his throbbing heart seemed ready to burst. He cradled her in his arms as if she had been a child, and breathed upon her cold hands.

Gradually her tears ceased, and warmth returned to her cheeks and hands. Never is a woman more grateful or more susceptible to love than when a great sorrow has broken her strength, and she gropes helplessly for some support. At this moment Cornelia could have wors.h.i.+ped her lover as some superior being; all suspicion was forgotten, she clung to him as if he were some consoling angel.

"Cornelia, are you happy now that you are clasped to my heart?"

whispered _Henri_.

"Oh, infinitely happy!" she murmured. "What should I be without you, my life? Now I am cast wholly upon you, you will never forsake your orphaned love?"

_Henri_ strained her to his breast with almost suffocating violence, and exclaimed from his inmost heart, with the utmost sincerity, "If I ever forsake you, accursed be the hour when I was born, the couch on which I rest, the air I breathe, the lips with which I kiss! I raise my hand and call upon all the powers of evil to witness against me if I break my oath."

Cornelia laid her finger on his lips. "Do not be so violent; that is no oath, but a curse."

"Is it not equally binding?"

"Certainly; but it makes me anxious: as if there would be no blessing upon it; as if you felt the possibility of becoming faithless, and your better self was threatening you with punishment."

"You angel! Look me in the eyes; do you no longer believe in your _Heinrich_, and yet love him still?"

"Ah, _Heinrich_, forgive my distrust! I feared to lose you, because you are the dearest thing in the would to me. I cannot think clearly to-day, I am so bewildered and worn out by grief. How contemptible I must seem to you!"

"If you knew how lovely you are in your weakness! You are not contemptible, you are only a true, tender woman, and therein lies your charm. Do you suppose firm muscles, large bones, and nerves of steel are attractive to men? It is your very helplessness that rouses our magnanimity; your delicacy demands our indulgence. To support a beautiful, trembling woman on his strong arm, and defend her from real or fancied terrors, is a sweet joy to a man,--sweeter than admiration of an abnormal strength, which woman attains only at the cost of her charms."

Cornelia listened to his words with increasing delight.

"Do you suppose," he continued, "that you were ever dearer to me than at this hour, when I am permitted to cradle your weary form upon my knees and fondly caress you? when your strong mind succ.u.mbs to the laws of womanly nature and you fly to me in your horror of death? You have trusted yourself to me more than ever before, and in your sorrow are sacred. You have nestled confidingly to this heart, and it shall never deceive you."

"_Heinrich_! _Heinrich_ What a magic you exert! You banish all griefs with a single glance of love, and your words fill my soul with peace.

Ah, it is beautiful to love in happiness! But we only know what we are to each other when we need each other. No language can express what you have been to me in this hour. A dark, starry sky arches over me in your eyes and invites me to repose; it extends over my whole soul and seems as if it enthroned the G.o.d to whom I bewail my sorrows, in whom I trust, to whom I shall send up my nightly prayer, and then rest--sleep!" She closed her eyes as if exhausted, and laid her head upon his breast.

_Henri_ clasped her closely in his arms. "Oh, bear this happiness! bear it firmly!" he murmured to himself.

She sat upright again. "I cannot lean upon you; your hard orders hurt me."

"Then rest on the other side," he pleaded.

She pushed her hair back from her brow, looked sadly at the flas.h.i.+ng decorations, and rose. "It is late, Heinrich; you must leave me now."

_Henri_ cursed the diamond stars with sincere vexation. What had they availed him? They had destroyed the happiest moment of his life; and the magic night of love, with all its sweet dreams and illusions, which Cornelia's weary soul had spread around herself and him, had melted in their rays.

He rose and extended his hands imploringly to Cornelia. "My darling, you shall never again be parted from the place where you belong. I promise you. I shall never wear them in your presence."

"Ah, yes, put them away; they have hurt my cheek, but wounded my heart still more."

"Cornelia, are you angry with me?"

"I angry with you? Ah, Heinrich, I love you only too well! Tell me, where is this to end? If I am away from your side a moment, I feel as if the cold breath of the grave floated over me, and a throb of pain thrills my frame as if I had torn away a part of my own nature.

Heinrich,--beloved, terrible Heinrich,--where is this to end?"

"In a happy, ardent love," cried _Henri_, radiant with joy. "You shall not miss me often. I will spend every leisure hour with you. But say, my angel, shall you still be accessible to me? Does Veronica's death make no change in your situation?"

"Oh, I had entirely forgotten that. Old Herr Linderer is my guardian, and the executor of Veronica's will. He proposed that I should reside in his family for the future."

"What! would you do that?" cried _Henri_.

"It would be very painful to me, and I might remain, for through Veronica's generosity the house and everything she possessed is mine; but a young girl ought not to live so entirely alone, without protection."

"And have you not a moral protection in yourself, and a personal one in your servants?"

"Certainly."

"That I cannot visit you when you are living with Herr Linderer is a matter of course. Our intercourse must be broken off, for it cannot exist under the watchful eyes of that family; so you have but one choice, my darling,--either to remain here and be the happiest of betrothed brides, or dispense with my society for the sake of a world that will not thank you for the sacrifice."

Cornelia clung closely to him. "Do without you? Oh, _Heinrich_, how could I?"

"Well, promise me you will take courage and refuse Linderer's proposal; then, Cornelia, I shall first believe in the strength of your love."