The Song Of Songs Part 93

"You must play for the others this very evening."

"This evening?" Lilly asked, alarmed. "I thought I had this evening free."

"Free! What do you mean by free?" he rejoined, evidently annoyed. "You act just as if our going out in company were heaven knows what a sacrifice. You keep to yourself whenever you can possibly get a chance.

Yesterday, in fact, Karla said n.o.body really knows what sort of life you lead."

"I think that applies much better to Karla than to me. n.o.body really knows her name."

"It doesn't matter. Others have criticised your reserved ways, too. One man even hinted I'd better keep my eye on you more than I do, and not let you go your own way so much. So to hush them up I promised I'd bring you this evening instead of yesterday. There's no getting out of it."

Lilly instantly reflected that a refusal, far from helping, would merely arouse his dormant suspicions. So she bravely choked down fright and tears. But when he left the anguish of disappointment was all the keener.

What would Dr. Rennschmidt think if he came at the appointed time and found her out? Since he had not mentioned his address, she could not write to him, and he would have a full day in which to nurse evil suspicions.

In an agony of apprehension she sought comfort with Adele, whose dry, peevish face perceptibly brightened. She seemed to be in her element when it came to deceiving a person, or, better still, two persons.

"The best thing," she said, "would be for you to say a sick friend had asked you to come. Something sad like that takes them all in." She knew it from experience, she a.s.sured Lilly.

That evening her friends did not get much entertainment out of Lilly.

She disregarded the gentlemen, and gave the ladies rude answers. Mrs.

Jula, the only one whose presence would have pleased her, was absent, as had become usual of late. They finally left her to herself and Richard, the dear fellow, who had hoped to parade his possession, helplessly gnawed the ends of his moustache.

The next morning Lilly again suffered the torments of dread.

When she had come home the night before, despite the late hour, she had awakened Adele, who said he had come and had looked dreadfully upset. He had gone away without saying anything.

Another day spent in nervously counting the minutes. She stood in front of the mirror, utterly despondent, and dressed herself for him. She would have liked to sink at his feet when he entered. Nevertheless she determined to maintain in words and gesture, then and in the future, a certain gentle, melancholy grandeur of manner which would nip suspicion in the bud, and would correspond with the picture of her he had drawn in his verses. When she thought that that stupid, much-kissed head of hers should from now on be a "head divine," she grew thoroughly ill at ease from sheer sanct.i.ty.

At half past seven the bell rang.

She received him with a conventional smile, and the gentle, melancholy grandeur, which she succeeded in adopting perfectly, concealed her hara.s.sed spirits.

His manner, she saw at the first glance, was also constrained. His eyes glided past her with a singularly empty expression.

"He has divined everything," her soul cried.

But she bore up n.o.bly.

"I must beg your pardon," she said, "for not having kept our appointment."

"I hope your friend is feeling better," he said, while a disdainful smile of doubt played about his lips.

She made all kinds of explanations, said whatever came into her head; and without looking at him, she knew he believed not a syllable.

"I must beg _your_ pardon," he rejoined after she had finished, with the same lurking disdain in his voice and smile.

"Why?"

"I sent you some verses which I hope you will consider nothing more than what they really are, a mere harmless stylistic effort without sense or significance."

"He's already withdrawing," her guilty conscience cried; and all the colder and worldlier was her reply.

"I admit your pretty verses did astonish me at first. I couldn't conceive that I was a fitting subject to inspire them. But then I thought you probably meant nothing more than what you just now said, and I did not feel offended. If you wish we won't say more about it."

He looked at her with great questioning eyes, and she rejoiced at having requited him so bitterly.

Wis.h.i.+ng to observe the rules of decorum she invited him to stay for supper, though absolutely nothing had been prepared for a guest.

"I thought I was to be permitted to take you out," he replied in a hard, disillusioned tone.

She smiled politely.

"Just as you wish."

They descended the stairs in silence, and in silence paced along the ca.n.a.l, the same way they had walked three evenings before, pressed close against each other in drunken bliss. Then, too, they had not spoken; but, oh, how different had their silence been!

"What have you done the last few days?" Lilly finally asked, to make conversation.

"Nothing special. I tried to write an article for the _Munchener Kunstzeitschrift_, on which I'm a collaborator. My subject was the Sienna School outside of Sienna. But it didn't turn out very well. The editor won't be satisfied."

Lilly read reproach of herself in his words. Evidently he wanted to indicate that her entrance into his life was to blame.

And when he asked to what restaurant she would like to go, she said, her wounded heart quivering:

"I'm neither hungry nor thirsty, and people and light would hurt me."

She wanted to add something about "not wis.h.i.+ng to be a burden" and similar things, but swallowed the words before they were spoken.

"If you wish to avoid people, we might go to the Tiergarten."

Lilly agreed. Had he said, "Come down into the water of the ca.n.a.l with me," she would have a.s.sented even more willingly.

The hard park roads stretched before them in the light of the electric lamps like long galleries with garish walls between which one was forced to run the gauntlet. The pedestrians coming toward Lilly and Dr.

Rennschmidt measured the tall couple with cold, intrusive curiosity.

"It's worse here than in the crowded streets," said Lilly.

Her aching, despondent heart fluttered with excitement

He pointed to a side path leading into darkness; and without speaking they dipped into solitude.

Above the towering ma.s.ses of branches the cloudy sky, looking like a metal whose brilliance has worn off, reflected the invisible sea of city lights. Through the lattice work of the leafless bushes gleamed the lamps lining the more public ways; and on all sides the gongs of the electric trams, shooting hither and thither, sounded like fire alarums.

But there in the interior of the park, quiet and darkness prevailed.

Lilly felt she had sunk into a black sea of mournfulness.

The silence between them became intolerable.