"I devoured it at fifteen, when I was far too young and verdant to enjoy that most beautiful and mature of all the works ever written for young people."
"Perhaps I'm already too old," she said blushing, "or still too young.
For--it will seem very foolish and perhaps incomprehensible to you: I had some difficulty in getting through it.
"That is," she hastily corrected herself, "I found certain things wonderfully beautiful, the spirit, the clearness, the lofty, melancholy thoughts, and what a living thing nature seems to become--I have copied many pa.s.sages to read again. But the whole, the work itself--you will surely think me childish or heartless, if I confess that I was not in the least affected when Werther shot himself."
He gazed into her black eyes with a quiet smile.
"Not even as much by Pere Goriot" said he.
"No," she answered in an undertone. "I cannot help it, nothing makes any impression upon me unless I can imagine it might happen to myself.
This good Pere Goriot, who is so ill repaid for all he does for his daughters, the daughters themselves, who have an actual pa.s.sion for spending a great deal of money and living in fabulous luxury, I can understand very well. I too had a father who would have sacrificed himself for me if necessary, as I would have done for him, and it is by no means strange to me that people can set their hearts on a thousand beautiful things which only the rich should possess. But that a man can no longer live, because he--because he is in love--with somebody's wife--is a thing of which I have no idea. Why do you look at me so?
Don't you believe me? You can do so safely, I always say what I think."
"I'm only looking at you," he replied, "because I do not know how to reconcile your words, which I do not doubt, with your face and your twenty-one years."
"And why not?"
"Do not consider it a tasteless compliment: but with such a face, I should hardly think a person could live twenty-one years in the world, without at least perceiving in others, what mad follies a man desperately in love may commit. And have you never been moved when you made some one unhappy, even if your own heart remained untouched? You have probably known nothing of hunger except from hearsay, and yet the sight of misery touches you."
"Certainly," she answered thoughtfully; "but you're mistaken, if you suppose I have never suffered want myself. There have been times--but that's my own affair. On the contrary, the love that has been offered me has either seemed untrue and ridiculous, or excited actual horror and loathing, never compa.s.sion."
Edwin's surprise increased at every word, whose sincerity he could not doubt. But if it were as she said and her grave innocent gaze confirmed--how had she come to these suspicious lodgings in such more than doubtful company? What, if she had nothing to repent, was the cause of this avoidance of men, this mysterious love of solitude in one so young and independent?
He noticed that she looked surprised at his silence, and in order to make some remark, said:
"If you place so little value on the pa.s.sion, which since the beginning of creation has, with hunger, been the motive power of the world, your purveyor of romances certainly has a difficult task. Or would you prefer novels of the latest style, which only contain enough love not to frighten the owners of circulating libraries?"
"No," she replied laughing, "I'm not quite so spoiled. Dear me, what I read aloud to my dear father was always French literature, which often, as I noticed by his making me skip a chapter, was by no means fit for a young girl. But do you know what I don't understand? Why the authors don't have a better appreciation of their advantages and write only stories which contain very elegant, rich, brilliant scenes, handsome parks, castles, numerous servants, and fireworks, concerts, and b.a.l.l.s every night. I should never weary of such books, as when a child I could always read over and over again the fairy tales, in which a fairy or magician builds in a single night a splendid palace of gold and jewels, with the horses' mangers of silver, and their hoofs studded with diamonds. Ought not poetry to describe a fairer world than this, which with all its _pet.i.tes miseres_, is only too familiar to us?
Instead of that, village tales have now become fashionable, and all the fuss, is made about them. Who can be interested in reading how Christen seeks a wife and obtains now a well-kept farm, and now a neglected one?
And the princ.i.p.al point is always about a few hundred thalers more or less; when they are obtained, the story ends. That--you must not be offended by my frankness--is what seemed so strange to me in Werther: narrow commonplace surroundings, ordinary, provincial people, and the heroine--I will say nothing about the bread and b.u.t.ter--but has she a lofty, n.o.ble soul? Does she love Werther or not? And if she does--but you're smiling. I'm probably saying very stupid things. Teach me, if it seems worth while. It's so tiresome always to think for one's self, in doing which of course one is always right."
"My dear Fraulein," said he, "I have hitherto had very little inclination to disturb people who were in perfect harmony with themselves, even if I felt differently. Why should they not have the right to devote their attention solely to the beautiful and brilliant?
I only wish you might belong to the favored few, who during their whole lives never see the wrong side of the world. He who has once become familiar with it, is certainly interested in finding even amid the narrow, commonplace limits of this miserable existence treasures and blessings, which fill his heart and make his life lovely. But you--"
"You are very much mistaken," she gravely interrupted. "I have already told you that I too know what it is to sit in the shadow and feel no ray of warmth from the sun that illumines the fairy castles of others.
But it is for that very reason, that I do not wish to be reminded in books of what I have already had a sufficient experience of in my life, and found by no means amusing or poetical. And however it maybe with outward cares, their charms and pleasures; the inward poverty, the miserable, half developed, embittered, starved feelings, the oppression beneath which human souls drag out such a painful existence--will you a.s.sert that these also are fitting themes for the poet's art?"
He was just beginning to reply, with a sense of secret surprise at the gloomy, dismal feeling underlying her words, when the striped waistcoat appeared at the door of the dining room. The dwarf had evidently just brushed his tow colored wig, fastened his cravat tighter, and drawn on a pair of white cotton gloves, which only made his short hands more clumsy.
"Pardon me for not interrupting the regular routine of my day," said the beautiful girl, suddenly adopting a gayer tone. "That is my tyrant.
Small as he is, and submissive as he pretends to be--if I'm not punctual at my meals, I lose his favor. The young man can vie in good sense and faithfulness with many grown persons, but his stomach is still a child's and must have its dues every two or three hours, or he gets very ill-natured. But I may venture to invite you to be my guest.
The restaurant provides me with such an abundant supply of food, that even Jean sometimes gives up the task of attempting to eat the portion I leave. You have already dined? But you will at least give me your society; for my usual company, to which I will introduce you directly, is only a make-shift."
She preceded him into the little dining room, where the boy nimbly pushed a second chair up to the daintily spread table. But before the young girl sat down, she went to the bird cage and opened the gilded door. "There," said she, clapping her hands three times as if for a signal, "there they come flying out. Some of them understand the order of proceedings and will instruct the new comers--those shy ones at the back that will not venture out. You must not suppose I take pleasure in shutting up the poor things; I buy new ones almost every day, mere native birds, as you see, just to feed them here a little while, and then after they have given me their society at dinner, I let them fly away again. Many, to be sure, will not go; but I am not to blame for that. Whoever voluntarily resigns freedom for good food and care, must accept imprisonment cheerfully. _Tu l'as voulu!_"
He listened to her quietly as a part of the gay feathered flock darted out of the cage and fluttered around the table and corners of the room, while the others remained timidly within. The window stood wide open; some of the most insignificant in appearance, after hesitating a moment, whetting their beaks on the sill and trying their wings, soared out into the open air with loud chirps and twitterings. The remainder, among which a beautiful gold-finch was the most attractive, crowded about the side-board and covered dishes on the table, in eager expectation of the good things they were to receive.
"I don't object to being alone all day," said the young mistress, taking her seat and motioning Edwin, with a gesture of charming authoritativeness, to sit down in the opposite chair, "but it is horrible to eat alone. One never feels so inhuman, selfish, and hard hearted, as when one is putting one piece of food after another into one's mouth entirely by himself. I always begin to think of the hundreds of thousands who have nothing to eat, and the thought disgusts me with my favorite dishes, so that I can scarcely half satisfy my hunger. But now look at this unruly rabble. How they quarrel and scuffle over every little crumb, and the greatest eater there, the little magpie, grudges the black bird every mouthful. Will you be quiet, you ugly thing?"
She took a silver salt spoon and tapped the bird, that was giving itself such airs, gently on the back, but without making any special impression upon him, and then cut some little biscuits which had been served with the dessert, into pieces, strewed sugared almonds over them, and divided these dainties between half a dozen little plates, which she placed in a circle on the table. The greedy birds instantly a.s.sembled around their food; only a few timid ones that remained on the side board preferred to take the crumbs she threw them, while the boldest perched on the edge of the dish of fruit, and rioted undisturbed on the magnificent pears and peaches.
Meantime she herself began to eat, after vainly urging Edwin to do so, and finally insisted that he must at least try some of the sweet Spanish wine, of which she only sipped a little from a slender crystal gla.s.s to drink his health. She ate in the same manner, tiny morsels which she took from her plate with the silver fork, and while busily talking, partook a little more freely of four or five vegetables and one sweet dish, but scarcely touched the meats. Edwin jestingly asked if she were a vegetarian. She requested him to explain the word, which she did not understand. "That's an excellent system," she said with a thoughtful nod, "I'm really a born vegetarian, without knowing it until to-day, and have often been laughed at in consequence. See that partridge, how sadly it thrusts its roasted beak into its own larded breast! I cannot look at it without reproaching myself for the happy creature's early death. And I was not even personally acquainted with the poor thing. But I could never have the heart to eat the chickens my mother had fed herself. She called it affectation! Dear me, my appet.i.te in those days was far too healthy to allow me to be sentimental at the expense of my stomach. Now I have little enough and believe I could live upon bread and fruits."
As she said all this with a mixture of innocent gayety and womanly consciousness, while her manner toward her guest was one of the most perfect ease--he became more and more doubtful what to think of this mysterious creature. He had had very little intercourse with ladies who had seemed particularly worthy of notice. Face to face with this problem, which even experienced connoisseurs of women had given up, all his psychological wisdom was of no avail. But some secret feeling, which would not be stifled, told him that whatever perverted, noxious, or dangerous things there might be in this girl's character or fate, the depths of her nature were pure and true, and even the open coquetry with which she had entered into the role of a fairy among her enchanted princes in the cage, had a tinge of innocent fancy, and suited her as well as the ribbons and spangles of the child, who in play decks itself to represent a princess.
"You have grown so quiet," she said, paring a peach and placing half of it on his plate, "that I see there is something about me of which you do not approve,--perhaps the frankness with which I treat you like an old acquaintance. Say so openly; true, I shall not be able to change my manner, but I don't wish to impose any constraint upon you."
"I am reflecting," said he, "upon the strange chance which has brought me to this place. Is it not really like a fairy tale, that I am here in your society, while you do not even know my name, and I nothing more of you than yours?"
She raised the silver fruit knife she held in her hand, and with a roguish, mysterious expression, pressed it to her laughing lips. "Let that pa.s.s," said she, "it has all come about by natural means, without any magic or sorcery. But for that very reason, it is better to enjoy it so long as it lasts, and not spoil it by reflections and investigations."
"Will it last?" he asked gravely.
"A little longer, a few weeks perhaps, who knows? Afterwards--what will come afterwards n.o.body can tell. But if it seems like a fairy tale, be kind and wise enough to let it remain so, do not seek to penetrate any farther into my life, so that I shall be forced to explain the connection. There's nothing very remarkable concealed in it, at least nothing particularly pleasant or cheerful. I'm really glad that I have made your acquaintance; I was too much alone, and in my situation I must beware of all persons whom I cannot implicitly trust. Why I have confided in you, I do not know; but so it is, and I should really be grieved if you did not think well of me, or if you were deterred from coming again in consequence of my frank expressions of opinion in regard to the various things I read or experience. And you must not come too often. I do not wish to cause gossip among the people in the house; but two or three times a week about this hour, before it is time to go to the theatre--only you must not first get your dinner at home.
Will you promise me that?"
She rose and held out her hand, which he hastily grasped and pressed cordially in his own.
"May the meal be blessed to you!" she said smiling. "We always said that in my parent's house, and I miss it here. Jean has too much respect for me, and the birds cannot be taught to do it. So I shall see you again soon, and you will bring Gothe's other works, of which you have spoken?"
He bowed silently, involuntarily placing his hand on his heart, and in a very puzzled mood left her.
Just as he emerged from the house, a light carriage drove up; the gentleman, who had himself held the reins threw them to the servant sitting behind and sprang out with the laughing exclamation: "Doctor, are you mad?"
"Marquard! Is it you? Have you a patient in this house?"
"Only one, who as I see, is making my efforts superfluous by taking the cure into his own hands. Or have you not just come from _her_?"
"From her? I don't understand you."
"Hypocrite! As if I did not see the fire in your heart burning through your vest" (Marquard was fond of quoting from Heine.) "My dear fellow, you won't find it so easy to deceive an old diagnostician of my stamp.
But how the deuce did you get on her track again?"
"Let's walk a few steps down the street," said Edwin coloring. "The windows are open, every word can be heard up stairs."
He seized the doctor by the arm and drew him away, relating in an undertone the story of the lost book-mark, and leaving it in doubt whether the accident had brought him here to-day for the first time.
"And you," he hastily concluded. "How did you discover that our neighbor in the box at the theatre lived here?"
"By means of the vein I laudably struck," declaimed the doctor. "The renewal of my acquaintance with this fair Sphinx is only two days old, and I fear it will not long survive the third. Day before yesterday, while visiting a patient in one of the opposite houses, I was suddenly summoned from his bedside; a boy was dangerously ill; I must come as soon as possible to the very house before which we just met. How I scaled the staircase and entered the second story rooms on the wings of my professional duty--a doctor is an enviable person, Edwin! All doors open to him, while to you ordinary mortals they only unclose when you knock as honest finders of property, or--rascally seekers. Imagine my joyful surprise, when the fair enigma who had so icily dismissed me in the box, now hastily approached and in the confusion of terror claimed my a.s.sistance.
"Was she ill?"
"Not she herself But she has a lad in her service, a ridiculous little fellow, who had already amused me greatly when he summoned me from the other side of the street. The mysterious stranger--who at any rate seems to have a kind heart, especially for minors--had allowed her footman to invite a younger brother to dine with him, and the two precocious men of the world had consumed a bottle of Cape wine and smoked some horrible cigars. The striped waistcoat's stomach, already hardened to such sins, endured the orgy without injury, while the hopeful Jean junior lay like a broken lily on his brother's bed, and had frightened the young lady, who had not the least suspicion of the cause--the young tipplers had carefully put the bottle away--almost to death. Now I could not possibly do Jean--who was leering significantly at me, and had taken me into his confidence on the way--the injury of making light of the case. Besides, successful cures of difficult cases are a greater recommendation to a young physician, than the treatment of the sickness that follows a drunken spree. So I took the pallid scamp to his unsuspicious parents in my own carriage, and yesterday reported his rapid progress toward convalescence. I'm now just in the act of giving the second bulletin; but as, when I left him, the patient was eating pears and dumplings with the best possible appet.i.te, and his n.o.ble patroness intends to visit him herself, you can understand that I shall not be able to pay many more visits to the fairy castle; for which I am very sorry--especially on your account, since according to promise--"
"I have just told you--"
"That you're a Cato or a Plato, whichever you prefer. Meantime--even without having felt your pulse--I see by your whole appearance, that you're on the direct road to remain so no longer. My best blessing on your conversion, old boy, and better luck than has fallen to me."