Ships That Pass in the Night Part 18

He made no answer, and retired once more into the dark room. Then he came out with his camera.

"We will go to that inn again," he said cheerily. "I want to take the photographs to those peasants."

In half an hours time they were on their way. It was the same drive as before: and since then, Bernardine had seen more of the country, and was more accustomed to the wonderful white scenery: but still the "white presences" awed her, and still the deep silence held her. It was the same scene, and yet not the same either, for the season was now far advanced, and the melting of the snows had begun. In the far distance the whiteness seemed as before; but on the slopes near at hand, the green was beginning to a.s.sert itself, and some of the great trees had cast off their heavy burdens, and appeared more gloomy in their freedom than in the days of their snow-bondage. The roads were no longer quite so even as before; the sledge glided along when it could, and b.u.mped along when it must. Still, there was sufficient snow left to make the drive possible, and even pleasant.

The two companions were quiet. Once only the Disagreeable Man made a remark, and then he said:

"I am afraid my negatives will be spoilt!"

"You said that before," Bernardine remarked.

"Well, I say it again," he answered in his grim way.

Then came a long pause.

"The best part of the winter is over," he said. "We may have some more snow; but it is more probable that we shall not. It is not enjoyable being here during the melting time."

"Well, in any case I should not be here much longer," she said; "and for a simple reason, too. I have nearly come to the end of my money.

I shall have to go back and set to work again. I should not have been able to give myself this chance, but that my uncle spared me some of his money, to which I added my savings."

"Are you badly off?" the Disagreeable Man asked rather timidly.

"I have very few wants," she answered brightly. "And wealth is only a relative word, after all."

"It is a pity that you should go back to work so soon," he said half to himself. "You are only just better; and it is easy to lose what one has gained."

"Oh, I am not likely to lose," she answered; "but I shall be careful this time. I shall do a little teaching, and perhaps a little writing: not much--you need not be vexed. I shall not try to pick up the other threads yet. I shall not be political, nor educational, nor anything else great."

"If you call politics or education great," he said. "And heaven defend me from political or highly educated women!"

"You say that because you know nothing about them," she said sharply.

"Thank you," he replied. "I have met them quite often enough!"

"That was probably some time ago," she said rather heartlessly. "If you have lived here so long, how can you judge of the changes which go on in the world outside Petershof?"

"If I have lived here so long," he repeated, in the bitterness of his heart.

Bernardine did not notice: she was on a subject which always excited her.

"I don't know so much about the political women," she said, "but I do know about the higher education people. The writers who rail against the women of this date are really describing the women of ten years ago.

Why, the Girton girl of ten years ago seems a different creation from the Girton girl of to-day. Yet the latter has been the steady outgrowth of the former!"

"And the difference between them?" asked the Disagreeable Man; "since you pride yourself on being so well informed."

"The Girton girl of ten years ago," said Bernardine, "was a, sombre, spectacled person, carelessly and dowdily dressed, who gave herself up to wisdom, and despised every one who did not know the Agamemnon by heart. She was probably not lovable; but she deserves to be honoured and thankfully remembered. She fought for woman's right to be well educated, and I cannot bear to hear her slighted. The fresh-hearted young girl who nowadays plays a good game of tennis, and takes a high place in the Cla.s.sical or Mathematical Tripos, and is book learned, without being bookish, and . . . ."

"What other virtues are left, I wonder?" he interrupted.

"And who does not scorn to take a pride in her looks because she happens to take a pride in her books," continued Bernardine, looking at the Disagreeable Man, and not seeming to see him: "she is what she is by reason of that grave and loveless woman who won the battle for her."

Here she paused.

"But how ridiculous for me to talk to you in this way!" she said. "It is not likely that you would be interested in the widening out of women's lives."

"And pray why not?" he asked. "Have I been on the shelf too long?"

"I think you would not have been interested even if you had never been on the shelf," she said frankly. "You are not the type of man to be generous to woman."

"May I ask one little question of you, which shall conclude this subject," he said, "since here we are already at the Gasthaus: to which type of learned woman do you lay claim to belong?"

Bernardine laughed.

"That I leave to your own powers of discrimination," she said, and then added, "if you have any."

And that was the end of the matter, for the word spread about that Herr Allitsen had arrived, and every one turned out to give the two guests greeting. Frau Steinhart smothered Bernardine with motherly tenderness, and whispered in her ear:

"You are betrothed now, liebes Fraulein? Ach, I am sure of it."

But Bernardine smiled and shook her head, and went to greet the others who crowded round them; and at last poor Catharina drew near too, holding Bernardine's hand lovingly within her own. Then Hans, Liza's lover, came upon the scene, and Liza told the Disagreeable Man that she and Hans were to be married in a month's time. And the Disagreeable Man, much to Bernardine's amazement, drew from his pocket a small parcel, which he confided to Liza's care. Every one pressed round her while she opened it, and found what she had so often wished for, a silver watch and chain.

"Ach," she cried, "how heavenly! How all the girls here will envy me!

How angry my dear friend Susanna will be!"

Then there were the photographs to be examined.

Liza looked with stubborn disapproval on the pictures of herself in her working-dress. But she did not conceal her admiration of the portraits which showed her to the world in her best finery.

"Ach," she cried, "this is something like a photograph!"

The Disagreeable Man grunted, but behaved after the fas.h.i.+on of a hero, claiming, however, a little silent sympathy from Bernardine.

It was a pleasant, homely scene: and Bernardine, who, felt quite at her ease amongst these people, chatted away with them as though she had known them all her life.

Then Frau Steinhart suddenly remembered that her guests needed some food, and Liza was despatched to her duties as cook; though it was some time before she could be induced to leave off looking at the photographs.

"Take them with you, Liza," said the Disagreeable Man. "Then we shall get our meal all the quicker!"

She ran off laughing, and finally Bernardine found herself alone with Catharina.

"Liza is very happy," she said to Bernardine. "She loves, and is loved."

"That is the greatest happiness," Bernardine said half to herself.

"Fraulein knows?" Catharina asked eagerly.

Bernardine looked wistfully at her companion. "No, Catharina," she said.

"I have only heard and read and seen."