The Children of the World Part 27

At first she did not answer. Not until they approached the gate of the park and she drew her hand lightly from his arm to put on her gloves, did she say: "You're perfectly right; the only true n.o.bility is to remain faithful to one's self. The common run of mankind concern themselves much about their neighbors' opinion, imploring their advice as to the guidance of their lives, but he who has the germ of a n.o.ble nature lives and dies by the light of his own inward grace and is sovereign of himself. As for these rules of living, they are pitiful torments which evil unhappy meddlesome people have invented to sour the life of their fellow mortals. He who thrusts his neck under the yoke deserves the bondage. One can grow old in such a servitude and yet never know what it is really to live."

CHAPTER IV.

The clock struck two as they entered the square before the castle.

"What shall we do now?" she asked.

"We have now no more important task than to eat the best dinner we can get. I hope the table in the PaG.o.da has made some progress in civilization since my student days, when I used to revel in the famous _katteschale_. However, it's Sunday, and Charlottenburg knows the duty it owes the capital."

When they entered the handsome hotel, in whose lower rooms a somewhat motley company were already drinking coffee, a waiter came toward them and after a hasty glance at Toinette, showed the young couple the way to the second story. If they wished to dine alone, they would find empty rooms and tables there--

"There's no help for it," said Edwin laughing, "they evidently suspect you of a desire to enjoy my society alone; you'll have to reconcile yourself to it. But we'll drink our coffee in the open air, and then you can make up for the conquests you can't celebrate at dinner."

He went up stairs beside her and opened the first door, which led into a comfortable room. She sat down without ceremony on the little sofa, removed her hat and cloak, and a.s.sured him that in spite of the second breakfast of fruit which she had eaten, she was already very hungry.

Edwin seated himself opposite her and took up the bill of fare. Amid all sorts of jests, they began to select their favorite dishes, and he could not help remembering their little dinners in Jagerstra.s.se. He inquired about her birds. She now had a dozen sparrows for boarders, she said, and would rather hear nothing about those delights of the table. She had afterwards learned that even the restaurant had been in the conspiracy against her, and had only charged her half price. She would soon be reduced to Lotte's bread and b.u.t.ter. "But we won't talk about that to-day," she said suddenly, "it'll come soon enough."

She rose, yawned, and began to look at the lithographs that hung on the walls. "You see," said she, "if we had brought the dwarf with us, we should have been better served."

"The waiter seems to think we shall be satisfied with our young love.

Wait a moment, I'll go down myself, enter into a tender relation with the cook, and bribe some ministering spirit to devote himself exclusively to us." He left the little room and hurried down stairs.

Just as he was turning the corner, he ran against a gentleman who was rus.h.i.+ng up. Their mutual apologies died on their lips.

"You here, Edwin?"

"Marquard!"

"No less a personage," laughed the physician. "And in the best of company. But you--is Balder here?"

"It was impossible to persuade him, unfortunately. You know him."

"So you're alone? Well, you shall join our party at any rate. It's entirely composed of your acquaintances, except my little suburban nightingale. Just think, the dear innocent child wouldn't compromise herself by taking an excursion with me _tete-a-tete_. She insisted that her friend Christiane must go too, or she would stay at home. Now the excellent musician is really very disagreeable to me, for the express reason that she trains young and lively talent to virtue and Sebastian Bach. But what was I to do? The little one laconically told me we would be taken for husband and wife, wedded in true burgher fas.h.i.+on, and I gave up the point. So I went to Fraulein Christiane to invite her, wondering in case she accepted, whom I should ask as the fourth man--a pleasure party of three is absurd of course. I thought of you for a moment. Would you have come? Well, when I went into her room, I found Heinrich, the dissatisfied, sitting at her piano, talking his contradictory little tattle. Do you know I think he has designs in that quarter despite the ugliness of his sweetheart. What could I do but offer him the fourth seat in the carriage? I hoped he would say no, for as you're aware, he can't endure me. But _quod non_! he eagerly accepted, and so far everything has pa.s.sed off charmingly. We're in high spirits, even before the champagne, and what fire-works of wit will be let off afterwards no one can tell. You'll come in just at the right moment, and on the way home it'll be so much the better, if we can't all find seats in one carriage."

"You're very kind," answered Edwin, smilingly releasing himself from the grasp of his friend who wanted to drag him away at once. "But I've brought a companion too, and it's doubtful--"

"Whom? Surely not--? Oh! you deepest of all philosophers--'yesterday on a proud steed, to-day shot through the heart'--the princess?"

Edwin nodded.

"And I let myself be deluded into giving him the address yesterday--well done! So we won't disturb you, but leave the fir and palm to themselves."

"You're very much mistaken," said Edwin with a half sigh, "True, as regards the temperature, tropical vegetation doesn't ill suit me, if palms only didn't mean victory; for in spite of our apparent intimacy, her highness is still as much surrounded by ice as ever. I really believe the best way to prevent the chill from finally producing the sleep of death, will be to bring her to you--if she's inclined to come, which I scarcely doubt."

"Bravo! I'll prepare the ladies. A relative of yours? A little cousin from the country."

"For aught I care. I pa.s.s for her cousin in the Rosenstra.s.se."

"Capital! I'll answer for _our_ cousins. They'll be somewhat jealous, which will make our attentions rise in value, in other respects we shall be extremely agreeable. So in five minutes. The last room in the rear on this corridor. And the dinner's _my_ affair."

He left Edwin at the door of his room and brus.h.i.+ng his thin locks with a small pocket brush and humming a tune, returned to his friends.

"Ladies," said he, as he entered the room where Mohr and the two girls sat at a neatly laid table, "I must beg your pardon for a somewhat arbitrary act. A friend of mine with a very charming and highly respectable cousin are close beside us, under the same roof. I asked him to join us, he's already acquainted with two of you, as he is no less a personage than our friend Edwin, the philosopher."

"_Another_ admirer of our musician?" exclaimed Mohr. "I ought to protest against it; I had subscribed for all the musical enthusiasm that would be developed to-day, since Maquard adores in artists only the charms of women. But be it so! This Edwin is an old friend of mine, and moreover deeply in debt to Fraulein Christiane for her daily free concerts."

"Isn't he a tall man with light hair, not exactly handsome, but interesting when he doesn't wear his old straw hat?" asked the little singer in a gay, twittering voice, from whose speaking tones one would never suppose that it could compa.s.s two octaves. At the first glance she looked strikingly pretty, but on a closer inspection one perceived that the features of the round face were not really harmonious, the large eyes and turned up nose, the sentimental mouth and sensual chin formed a strange contrast, and even her toilette was a bold composition of all sorts of fantastic fragments. She wore a tolerably ancient black velvet dress, which had once belonged to a much more stately prima donna, a singular looking scarf of tulle and lace, a breast pin with a photograph of a little terrier, ear-rings of coa.r.s.e Roman mosaic, and in her hair which was cut short and curled in little rings over her head, a gold circlet. Her movements were sometimes very quick, sometimes slow and languid. Only when she laughed, in doing which she was apt to open her mouth a little too far, did the expression appear to which her more intimate acquaintances alluded, when they called her a "good follow," with whom "no one could get angry."

Beside this wild singular creature, Christiane's dark face, framed in its thick black hair, looked more gloomy even than usual, but gained a certain characteristic n.o.bility, especially as the extreme simplicity of her dress contrasted advantageously with the theatrical costume of the singer. She had been sitting in silence when Marquard entered. At Edwin's name she started, but even then said nothing, merely nodding when Mohr asked if he should place a chair for the new guest on her other side; mechanically she smoothed the folds of her dark red woolen dress and pa.s.sed her hand over her eyes. Adele had told her she sometimes wore an evil, malignant expression, when her thick eye brows were not perfectly smooth. This was generally a matter of indifference to her, but to-day she did not want to look still more frightful than she was by nature.

They listened to the sounds from the entry. At last the opposite door opened, and Mohr started up to meet the new couple. When Toinette entered, the singer also rose and approached her, more to show her dainty figure than from any special cordiality. She saw at the first glance that she was entirely thrown into the shade by the new face, and could only console herself with the recollection of her toilette, which she considered extremely _comme il faut_, while the cousin's looked very provincial. Christiane greeted Edwin's relative with a silent bow of the head. She had turned pale when she saw the charming girl. A sudden weight rested upon her soul and stifled the words in her throat, she would have liked to rise and turn her back upon these unsuspecting people. But she must endure it. When Edwin addressed a few friendly words to her, and without asking any questions, took the chair at her side, the color returned to her cheeks, and she could say in an indifferent tone that she was very glad to have the pleasure of meeting him at last. He reminded her of the night when he had found her absorbed in Schopenhauer's Parerga, and apologized for not having continued the moonlight conversation by sunlight, on the plea of having had a great deal of work to do. But it was one of the "sorrows of the world," that we can often make the least use of the blessings that lie so close at hand. Meantime the soup was brought, and Marquard did the honors. The meeting with Edwin and his beautiful companion had put him in the gayest spirits, and he treated Toinette with a humorous formality, the cause of which the others did not suspect. Not a word betrayed that he had made her acquaintance before. He inquired about the condition and events of her native city, and asked how she liked Berlin and its inhabitants. The little farce amused the young girl too, and she merrily entered into it. Moreover she had the delicate tact to make herself particularly agreeable to Adele and Christiane, so that after the first gla.s.s of champagne the singer, like the "good fellow"

she was, touched gla.s.ses with her, declared that she had taken a great fancy to her, would go to see her in the city and in return Toinette must go to the theatre every evening that she appeared.

Christian also could not deny the charm of the new acquaintance, though she certainly felt no pleasure in it. Never had she seemed to herself so dest.i.tute of every grace, as beside this bewitching vision, who appeared gradually to win even her old admirer, Mohr, though he had at first been embarra.s.sed in the presence of his old friend's "relative,"

who had so suddenly appeared. He became more and more eloquent, and in his own original fas.h.i.+on poured forth a mult.i.tude of quaint sayings, which he at last addressed almost exclusively to Toinette, perceiving that his grave neighbor only absently shook her head at his most daring paradoxes. Marquard, after fulfilling all the duties of a host toward his guests, comfortably gave himself up, without making any special exertion to be witty, to a low toned conversation with his little flame, and only sometimes condescendingly laughed at Mohr's jests, as if amused by the singular folly of a man who is making an entirely useless display. For a time Mohr allowed him to laugh and only occasionally dealt him a satirical thrust. But as he did not spare the wine and moreover gradually became heated by his own words, his real feelings toward the comfortable, self-satisfied man of the world, whom as we know, he accredited with a tolerably shallow brain and cold heart, at last burst forth.

"My honored friends," said he, as he rose and lifted his full gla.s.s, "I will beg your permission to speak for five minutes on a subject that is of interest to all. We sit here so cozily either liking each other or wis.h.i.+ng we did. At any rate this modest little orgie is calculated to excite the envy of the so-called G.o.ds, since six people are on a tolerably green bough of sustenance, was.h.i.+ng from their souls all anxieties about the present and future life, in, I trust, unadulterated champagne, and thus losing fear as well as love for G.o.ds and devils. As for the envy of the former, I'm far from making it a reproach to them.

On the contrary, as I have no special reason to feel any great esteem for them, since they've shown little friends.h.i.+p toward my insignificant self, it's this envy alone that partially reconciles me to them. These poor devils of G.o.ds, who, like us, can't always do as they please, thus show a truly human side; for, my friends, profound thought and mature experience have taught me, that what is truly human, full of genius, and so to say G.o.d-like in our race, as well as the human side of the G.o.ds, is _envy_. You stare at me, Fraulein Adele, and seem to be asking your neighbor whether I'm always in the habit of expressing such crazy opinions, or only when I've been drinking sweet wine. But you're mistaken; I'm as sober as he is, innocent nightingale; for tell me yourself, would you be the charming creature you are, the spoiled child of the boards, the much photographed, much slandered, much adored _Adele_, if you did not feel a deep envy of the happy mortal called _Adelina_, the divine Patti? Without this envy, which has accelerated your flight to higher and higher spheres, you would still be twittering imperfect couplets, as on your first debut. But for envy of the great champions of thought, our friend Edwin would now be a well paid professor of logic, reading stupid volumes year in and year out. But for this envy, our artist, Fraulein Christiane, would never have poured her whole soul into her finger tips, nor I, her unworthy neighbor at table, extorted from my reluctant brains one of the most remarkable compositions of the day, the famous _sinfonia ironica_. Fraulein Toinette too, whom I have not yet the honor of knowing very well, has--I read it in her black eyes--received her share of this hereditary virtue. For what is envy, except that which people usually call religion: the confession of our imperfections and distress, and the longing for improvement, to reach a higher round in the ladder, which we already see attained by loftier natures. Must we not feel better disposed toward the so-called G.o.ds, when we think that they too are not satisfied with themselves, that they too cherish unattained and forever unattainable longings for the joys of mortals, for a dinner in the PaG.o.da in pleasant society, bubbling over with wit and _Cremant rose_?

That they will go so far as to maliciously desire to destroy such joys, is a degeneration of the virtue of envy, of which I do not approve, but from which no virtue is safe. On the contrary, nothing can more deeply offend G.o.ds and men, than to meet certain souls who have never felt the bliss of a n.o.ble envy, who in their sublime self-satisfaction, deride or condemn every one who is not so well pleased with himself, who does not draw his face into such well satisfied lines, and when he is cleanly shaved pat himself delightedly on the back, and say to himself: 'You're a famous fellow!' My friends, I know what's due to the company.

I refrain from all personalities. But when I see certain brows, one in particular, which begins to be prematurely bald, a brow that has the effrontery--"

He had spoken louder and more rapidly, fixing his eyes more and more steadily and defiantly on Marquard, who submitted to this singular apostrophe with the utmost good humor; but at the last words, the smile suddenly died on his lips. He again filled his gla.s.s, and rattled his knife on an empty one that stood beside it.

"Ladies and gentlemen," said he, "as we have no president, who could call any one abusing the freedom of speech to order, everyone must look out for himself. I take the liberty of interrupting the honored orator, because he's in the act of doing something for which I certainly should not envy him: disturbing the beautiful harmony that pervades this circle, by making to one of its members, who though perhaps unworthy is certainly not obstreperous, exactly the reverse of a declaration of love. I have the honor of being intimately acquainted with this member, and know that our friend, Heinrich Mohr, has always used his right not to think him agreeable. I have never disputed that right, though I myself formerly held a different opinion and thought this man whose soul was dest.i.tute of envy, a very lovable fellow. Since that time"--here he cast a glance of comical pathos at his fair neighbor--"I have found myself mistaken in this view, but for very different reasons. I will not enter upon the intellectual controversy about the virtue of envy. Friend Mohr will at least admit, that there are exceptions to the rule. I, my friends, have studied so much natural history, that I know the ostrich would not become any more perfect if it envied the falcon its wings, and the sparrow would be a singular fanatic if it practised solfeggi to outdo the nightingale. If therefore I early renounced the cultivation of talents I did not possess, and like a true realist, endeavored to take the world and myself as we are, it should rather be imputed to me as a virtue, especially as I have risen to a tolerable height in the admiration and enjoyment of gifts denied me, and moreover possess a few valuable qualities, such as for instance the ability to order a good dinner, to brew a punch, and to write prescriptions for intermittent fever. And now, after this effective little correction, I propose that we drink the ladies' health and beg Fraulein Adele to use her exquisite voice in singing away the last remnant of discord."

A loud clapping of hands, for which Adele herself gave the signal, rewarded this speech, during which Mohr had slowly reseated himself and emptied his gla.s.s in little sips. Refilling it, he turned toward Marquard with a peculiar twinkle in his keen grey eyes.

"I heartily a.s.sent to the proposal," said he, "but must first place on record a short personal observation, namely that I was a great donkey.

The ladies will pardon the rude expression, since I doubt not, they are convinced of its truth. Fritz Marquard, I hereby declare that you're right in patting yourself on the back and thinking yourself a famous fellow. From this day I beg you to grant me your friends.h.i.+p, and hope to give you proofs of mine--"

"And if a man has fallen Love guides him back to duty--"

sang Adele, as she sprang from her seat and glided to an old piano that stood in one corner of the room, and which was sometimes used for little dancing parties. She hastily opened it, struck a few notes, and called Christiane to try it more thoroughly. Meantime Marquard had crossed over to Mohr and cordially shaken hands with him; Edwin and Toinette also rose, lights and a fresh bottle of wine were brought in, and amidst the bustle of coming and going Christiane hastily ran her hands over the keys, and commenced Weber's "Invitation to the waltz."

The room became quiet. Edwin had carried two chairs into a window recess, which was illumined by the last crimson rays of the autumnal sunlight. Without a word from him, Toinette took one chair and he sat down beside her. He had scarcely spoken to her at the table, but he had listened to her every word, and little as he appeared to look at her, had often turned his eyes with delight upon the delicate profile and black lashes. But now as she gazed out at the bare treetops, bathed in the crimson glow, with her head and shoulders likewise steeped in the radiance of the sunset, her lips parted as if her very soul were absorbed in the lingering beauties of the day, he forgot his self control, and gazed steadily into her face. The room was quite dark; two candles only illumined the table still crowded with the empty bottles and half filled gla.s.ses, and lighted up Marquard's pleasant features, as he sat alone smoking his cigar and looking intently through the round gla.s.ses of his gold spectacles at the piano. Mohr had thrown himself down on a stool beside the musician, Adele was tripping lightly up and down the room, singing to herself in a low tone and sometimes with a coquettish gesture throwing at her friend, who continued to smoke phlegmatically, a grape, from the cl.u.s.ter which, in baccha.n.a.lian fas.h.i.+on she had fastened to the gold circlet on her head.

"You have been very charming to-day," Edwin whispered to Toinette. "I thank you for the conquests you have made of my friends. I'm vain enough to think you did it partly for my sake. If Balder had only seen you!"

"Why?"

"Because I always think of him, whenever anything pleases me; because I wish him to share my pleasures with me. Have you never had the same feeling toward your sisters?"

"I would gladly have felt it, but I never could succeed. Each thought only of herself, her few miserable trinkets, her lovers, and the next casino-ball. I really think sisters are scarcely capable of what you call brotherly, love. But hush; she's beginning to sing. Who would have supposed there was so much music in the queer little doll!"

In fact a flood of melody now filled the room, as Adele sang Pergolese's morning serenade:

"Tre giorni son che Nina Al letto se ne sta."

Christiane accompanied her. The worn out instrument under her hands was fairly transformed, and gave forth tones of which it had probably scarcely been capable in its best days. When the charming little song was finished, Marquard rose and solemnly kissed the singer's hand.