Chapter 3

_A summer parlor in the_ COLONEL'S _house. Handsome furnishings. In the centre of rear wall an open door, behind it a verandah and garden; on the sides of rear wall large windows. Right and left, doors; on the right, well in front, a window. Tables, chairs, a small sofa_.

IDA _is sitting in front on the right reading a book. The_ COLONEL _enters through centre door with an open box in his hand in which are dahlias_.

COLONEL.

Here, Ida, are the new varieties of dahlias our gardener has grown. You'll have to rack your brains to find names for them. Day after tomorrow is the Horticultural Society meeting, when I am to exhibit and christen them.

IDA.

This light-colored one here should be called the "Adelaide."

COLONEL.

Adelaide Buneck, of course. Your own name is out of the running, for as a little dahlia you have long been known to the flower-trade.

IDA.

One shall be called after your favorite writer, "Boz."

COLONEL.

Splendid! And it must be a really fine one, this yellow one here with violet points. And the third one--how shall we christen that?

IDA (_stretching out her hand entreatingly to her father_).

"Edward Oldendorf."

COLONEL.

What! The professor? The editor? Oh no, that will not do! It was bad enough for him to take over the paper; but that he now has allowed himself to be led by his party into running for Parliament--that I can never forgive him.

IDA.

Here he comes himself.

COLONEL (_aside_).

It used to be a pleasure to me to hear his footstep; now I can hardly keep from being rude when I see him.

_Enter_ OLDENDORF.

OLDENDORF.

Good morning, Colonel!

IDA (_with a friendly greeting_).

Good morning, Edward. Help me to admire the new dahlias that father has grown.

COLONEL.

But do not trouble the professor. Such trifles no longer interest him; he has bigger things in his head.

OLDENDORF.

At all events I have not lost my ability to enjoy what gives you pleasure.

COLONEL (_grumbling to himself_).

You have not given me much proof of that. I fear you take pleasure in doing the very things that vex me. You are doubtless quite busy now with your election, Mr. Future Member of Parliament!

OLDENDORF.

You know, Colonel, that I myself have less than any one else to do with it.

COLONEL.

Oh, I don't believe that! It is the usual custom in such elections, I imagine, to pay court to influential persons and shake hands with the voters, to make speeches, scatter promises, and do all the other little devil's tricks.

OLDENDORF.

You yourself do not believe, Colonel, that I would do anything discreditable?

COLONEL.

Not? I am not so sure, Oldendorf. Since you have turned journalist, edit your _Union_ and daily reproach the State with its faulty organization, you are no longer what you used to be.

OLDENDORF (_who up to this point has been conversing with_ IDA _about the flowers, but now turns to the_ COLONEL).

Does what I now say or write conflict with my former views? It would be hard to convince me of that. And still less can you have noticed any change in my feelings or in my conduct toward you.

COLONEL (_obdurate_).

Well, I don't see what reason you would have for that. I am not going to spoil my morning by quarreling. Ida may try to straighten things out with you. I am going to my flowers. [_Takes the box and exit toward the garden._]

OLDENDORF.

What has put your father in such a bad humor? Has something in the newspaper vexed him again?

IDA.

I do not think so. But it annoys him that now in politics you again find it necessary to advocate measures he detests and attack institutions he reveres. (_Shyly._) Edward, is it really impossible for you to withdraw from the election?

OLDENDORF.

It is impossible.

IDA.

I should then have you here, and father could regain his good humor; for he would highly appreciate the sacrifice you were making for him, and we could look forward to a future as peaceful as our past has been.

OLDENDORF.

I know that, Ida, and I feel anything but pleasure at the prospect of becoming member for this town; yet I cannot withdraw.

IDA (_turning away_).

Father is right. You have changed entirely since becoming editor of the paper.

OLDENDORF.

Ida! You too! If this is going to cause discord between us I shall indeed feel badly.

IDA.

Dear Edward! I am only grieving at losing you for so long.

OLDENDORF.

I am not yet elected. If I do become member and can have my way, I will take you to the capital and never let you leave my side again.

IDA.

Ah, Edward, we can't think of that now! But do spare father.

OLDENDORF.

You know how much I stand from him; and I don't give up hope of his becoming reconciled to me. The election once over, I will make another appeal to his heart. I may wrest from him a favorable answer that will mean our marriage.

IDA.

But do humor his little foibles. He is in the garden near his dahlia bed; express your delight over the gay colors. If you go at it skilfully enough perhaps he may still call one the "Edward Oldendorf." We have been talking of it already. Come! [_Exeunt both._]

_Enter_ SENDEN, BLUMENBERG, CARL, SCHMOCK.

SENDEN (_entering_).

Is the Colonel alone?

CARL.

Professor Oldendorf is with him.

SENDEN.

Take in our names. [_Exit_ CARL.] This everlasting Oldendorf! I say, Blumenberg, this connection of the old gentleman with the _Union_ must stop. We cannot really call him one of us so long as the professor frequents this house. We need the Colonel's influential personality.

BLUMENBERG.

It is the best-known house in town--the best society, good wine, and art.

SENDEN.

I have my private reasons, too, for bringing the Colonel over to our side. And everywhere the professor and his clique block our way.

BLUMENBERG.

The friendship shall cease. I promise you that it shall cease, gradually, within the next few weeks. The first step has already been taken. The gentlemen of the _Union_ have fallen into the trap.

SENDEN.

Into what trap?

BLUMENBERG.

The one I set for them in our paper. [_Turning upon_ SCHMOCK _who is standing in the doorway._] Why do you stand here, Schmock? Can't you wait at the gate?

SCHMOCK.

I went where you did. Why should I not stand here? I know the Colonel as well as you do.

BLUMENBERG.

Don't be forward and don't be impudent. Go and wait at the gate, and when I bring you the article, quickly run with it to the press--understand?

SCHMOCK.

How can I help understanding when you croak like a raven?

[_EXIT_.]

BLUMENBERG (_to_ SENDEN).

He is a vulgar person, but he is useful! Now that we are alone, listen! The other day when you brought me to call here, I begged the Colonel just to write down his ideas on the questions of the day.

SENDEN.

Yes, alas! You piled on the flattery much too thick, but the old gentleman did, nevertheless, at last take fire.

BLUMENBERG.

We begged him to read to us what he had written; he read it to us, we praised it.

SENDEN.

It was very tiresome all the same.

BLUMENBERG.

I begged it of him for our paper.

SENDEN.

Yes, unfortunately! And now I must carry these bulky things to your press. These articles are too heavy; they won't do the _Coriolanus_ any good.

BLUMENBERG.

Yet I printed them gladly. When a man has written for a paper he becomes a good friend of that paper. The Colonel at once subscribed for the _Coriolanus_, and, the next day, invited me to dinner.

SENDEN (_shrugging his shoulders_).

If that is all you gain by it!

BLUMENBERG.

It is merely the beginning.--The articles are clumsy; why should I not say so?

SENDEN.

God knows they are!

BLUMENBERG.

And no one knows who the author is.

SENDEN.

That was the old gentleman's stipulation. I imagine he is afraid of Oldendorf.

BLUMENBERG.

And precisely what I anticipated has come to pass. Oldendorf's paper has today attacked these articles. Here is the latest issue of the _Union_.

SENDEN.

Let me look at it. Well, that will be a fine mix-up! Is the attack insulting?

BLUMENBERG.

The Colonel will be sure to consider it so. Don't you think that that will help us against the professor?

SENDEN.

Upon my honor you are the slyest devil that ever crept out of an inkstand!

BLUMENBERG.

Give it to me, the Colonel is coming. _Enter the_ COLONEL.

COLONEL.

Good morning, gentlemen!--[_aside_] and that Oldendorf should just happen to be here! If only he will remain in the garden! Well, Mr. Editor, how is the _Coriolanus_?

BLUMENBERG.

Our readers admire the new articles marked with an arrow. Is there any chance that some more--

COLONEL (_drawing a manuscript from his pocket and looking round_).

I rely on your discretion. As a matter of fact I wanted to read it through again on account of the structure of the sentences.

BLUMENBERG.

That can best be done in the proof-reading.

COLONEL.

I think it will do. Take it; but not a word--

BLUMENBERG.

You will let me send it at once to press. [_At the door._] Schmock!

[SCHMOCK _appears at the door, takes the manuscript and exit quickly._]

SENDEN.

Blumenberg is keeping the sheet up to the mark, but, as he has enemies, he has to fight hard to defend himself.

COLONEL (_amused_).

Enemies? Who does not have them? But journalists have nerves like women. Everything excites you; every word that any one says against you rouses your indignation! Oh come, you are sensitive people!

BLUMENBERG.

Possibly you are right, Colonel. But when one has opponents like this _Union_--

COLONEL.

Oh, yes, the _Union_. It is a thorn in the flesh to both of you. There is a great deal in it that I cannot praise; but, really when it comes to sounding an alarm, attacking, and pitching in, it is cleverer than your paper. The articles are witty; even when they are on the wrong side one cannot help laughing at them.

BLUMENBERG.

Not always. In today's attack on the best articles the _Coriolanus_ has published in a long time I see no wit at all.

COLONEL.

Attack on what articles?

BLUMENBERG.

On yours, Colonel. I must have the paper somewhere about me.

[_Searches, and gives him a copy of the Union._]

COLONEL.

Oldendorf's paper attacks my articles! [_Reads._] "We regret such lack of knowledge--"

BLUMENBERG.

And here--

COLONEL.

"It is an unpardonable piece of presumption"--What! I am presumptuous?

BLUMENBERG.

And here--

COLONEL.

"One may be in doubt as to whether the naïveté of the contributor is comical or tragical, but at all events he has no right to join in the discussion"--[_Throwing down the paper._] Oh, that is contemptible! It is a low trick!

_Enter_ IDA _and_ OLDENDORF _from the garden._

SENDEN (_aside_).

Now comes the cloud-burst!

COLONEL.

Professor, your newspaper is making progress. To bad principles is now added something else--baseness.

IDA (_frightened_).

Father!

OLDENDORF (_coming forward_).

Colonel, how can you justify this insulting expression?

COLONEL (_holding out the paper to him_).

Look here! That stands in your paper! In your paper, Oldendorf!

OLDENDORF.

The tone of the attack is not quite as calm as I could have wished--

COLONEL.

Not quite so calm? Not really?

OLDENDORF.

In substance the attack is justified.

COLONEL.

Sir! You dare say that to me!

IDA.

Father!

OLDENDORF.

Colonel, I do not comprehend this attitude, and I beg you to consider that we are speaking before witnesses.

COLONEL.

Do not ask for any consideration. It would have been your place to show consideration for the man whose friendship you are otherwise so ready to claim.

OLDENDORF.

But, first of all, tell me frankly what is your own connection with the articles attacked in the _Coriolanus_?

COLONEL.

A very chance connection, too insignificant in your eyes to deserve your regard. The articles are by me!

IDA.

Heavens!

OLDENDORF (_vehemently_).

By you? Articles in the paper of this gentleman?

IDA (_entreating him_).

Edward!

OLDENDORF (_more calmly_).

The _Union_ has attacked not you but an unknown person, who to us was merely a partisan of this gentleman. You would have spared us both this painful scene had you not concealed from me the fact that you are a correspondent of the _Coriolanus_.

COLONEL.

You will have to stand my continuing not to make you a confidant of my actions. You have here given me a printed proof of your friendship, which does not make me long for other proofs.

OLDENDORF (_taking up his hat_).

I can only say that I deeply regret the occurrence, but do not feel myself in the least to blame. I hope, Colonel, that, when you think the matter over calmly, you will come to the same conclusion. Good-by, Miss Ida. Good day to you.

[_Exit as far as centre door._]

IDA (_entreating_).

Father, don't let him leave us that way!

COLONEL.

It is better than to have him stay.

_Enter_ ADELAIDE.

ADELAIDE (_entering in elegant traveling costume, meets_ OLDENDORF _at the door_).

Not so fast, Professor!

[OLDENDORF _kisses her hand and leaves._]

IDA. }(_together_ Adelaide! [_Falls into her arms._]). COLONEL. } Adelaide! And at such a moment!

ADELAIDE (_holding_ IDA _fast and stretching out her hand to the_ COLONEL).

Shake hands with your compatriot. Aunt sends love, and Rosenau Manor, in its brown autumn dress, presents its humble compliments. The fields lie bare, and in the garden the withered leaves dance with the wind.--Ah, Mr. von Senden!

COLONEL (_introducing_).

Mr. Blumenberg, the editor.

SENDEN.

We are delighted to welcome our zealous agriculturist to the city.

ADELAIDE.

And we should have been pleased occasionally to meet our neighbor in the country.

COLONEL.

He has a great deal to do here. He is a great politician, and works hard for the good cause.

ADELAIDE.

Yes, indeed, we read of his doings in the newspaper. I drove through your fields yesterday. Your potatoes are not all in yet. Your steward didn't get through with the work.

SENDEN.

You Rosenau people are privileged to get through a week earlier than any one else.

ADELAIDE.

On the other hand, we have nothing to do but to farm. (_Amicably._) The neighbors send greetings.

SENDEN.

Thank you. We must relinquish you now to friends who have more claim on you than we have. But will you not receive me in the course of the day so that I can ask for the news from home? [ADELAIDE _inclines her head._]

SENDEN.

Good-by, Colonel. (_To_ IDA.) My respectful compliments, Miss Berg.

[_Exit together with_ BLUMENBERG.]

IDA (_embracing_ ADELAIDE).

I have you at last. Now everything will be all right!

ADELAIDE.

What is to be all right? Is anything not all right? Back there some one passed me more quickly than usual, and here I see glistening eyes and a furrowed brow. [_Kisses her on the eyes._] They shall not ruin your pretty eyes. And you, honored friend, turn a more friendly countenance to me.

COLONEL.

You must stay with us all winter; it will be the first you have given us in a long time; we shall try to deserve such a favor.

ADELAIDE (_seriously_).

It is the first one since my father's death that I have cared to mingle with the world again. Besides, I have business that calls me here. You know I came of age this summer, and my legal friend, Judge Schwarz, requires my presence. Listen, Ida, the servants are unpacking, go and see that things are properly put away. (_Aside._) And put a damp cloth over your eyes for people can see that you have been crying. [_Exit_ IDA _to the right._ ADELAIDE _quickly goes up to the_ COLONEL.] What is the matter with Ida and the professor?

COLONEL.

That would be a long story. I shall not spoil my pleasure with it now. We men are at odds; our views are too opposed.

ADELAIDE.

But were not your views opposed before this, too? And yet you were on such good terms with Oldendorf!

COLONEL.

They were not so extremely opposed as now.

ADELAIDE.

And which of you has changed his views?

COLONEL.

H'm! Why, he, of course. He is led astray in great part by his evil companions. There are some men, journalists on his paper, and especially there is a certain Bolz.

ADELAIDE (_aside_).

What's this I hear?

COLONEL.

But probably you know him yourself. Why, he comes from your neighborhood.

ADELAIDE.

He is a Rosenau boy.

COLONEL.

I remember. Your father, the good old general, could not endure him.

ADELAIDE.

At least he sometimes said so.

COLONEL.

Since then this Bolz has become queer. His mode of life is said to be irregular, and I fear his morals are pretty loose. He is Oldendorf's evil genius.

ADELAIDE.

That would be a pity!--No, I do not believe it!

COLONEL. What do you not believe, Adelaide?

ADELAIDE (_smiling_).

I do not believe in evil geniuses. What has gone wrong between you and Oldendorf can be set right again. Enemies today, friends tomorrow--that is the way in politics; but Ida's feelings will not change so quickly. Colonel, I have brought with me a beautiful design for a dress. That new dress I mean to wear this winter as bridesmaid.

COLONEL.

No chance of it! You can't catch me that way, girl. I'll carry the war into the enemy's country. Why do you drive other people to the altar and let your own whole neighborhood joke you about being the Sleeping Beauty and the virgin farmer?

ADELAIDE (_laughing_).

Well, so they do.

COLONEL.

The richest heiress in the whole district! Courted by a host of adorers, yet so firmly intrenched against all sentiment; no one can comprehend it.

ADELAIDE.

My dear Colonel, if our young gentlemen were as lovable as certain older ones--but, alas! they are not.

COLONEL.

You shan't escape me. We shall hold you fast in town, until we find one among our young men whom you will deem worthy to be enrolled under your command. For whoever be your chosen husband, he will have the same experience I have had--namely, that, first or last, he will have to do your bidding.

ADELAIDE (_quickly_).

Will you do my bidding with regard to Ida and the professor? Now I have you!

COLONEL.

Will you do me the favor of choosing your husband this winter while you are with us? Yes? Now I have _you_!

ADELAIDE.

It's a bargain! Shake hands! [_Holds out her hand to him._]

COLONEL (_puts his hand in hers, laughing_).

Well, you're outwitted.

[_Exit through centre door._]

ADELAIDE (_alone_).

I don't think I am. What, Mr. Conrad Bolz! Is that your reputation among people! You live an irregular life? You have loose morals? You are an evil genius?--

_Enter_ KORB.

KORB (_through the centre door with a package_).

Where shall I put the account-books and the papers, Miss Adelaide?

ADELAIDE.

In my apartment. Tell me, dear Korb, did you find your room here in order?

KORB.

In the finest order. The servant has given me two wax candles; it is pure extravagance.

ADELAIDE.

You need not touch a pen for me this whole day. I want you to see the town and look up your acquaintances. You have acquaintances here, I suppose?

KORB.

Not very many. It is more than a year since I was last here.

ADELAIDE (_indifferently_).

But are there no people from Rosenau here?

KORB.

Among the soldiers are four from the village. There is John Lutz of Schimmellutz--

ADELAIDE.

I know. Have you no other acquaintance here from the village?

KORB.

None at all, except him, of course--

ADELAIDE.

Except him? Whom do you mean?

KORB.

Why, our Mr. Conrad.

ADELAIDE.

Oh, to be sure! Are you not going to visit him? I thought you had always been good friends.

KORB.

Going to visit him? That is the first place I am going to. I have been looking forward to it during the whole journey. He is a faithful soul of whom the village has a right to be proud.

ADELAIDE (_warmly_).

Yes, he has a faithful heart.

KORB (_eagerly_).

Ever merry, ever friendly, and so attached to the village! Poor man, it is a long time since he was there!

ADELAIDE.

Don't speak of it!

KORB.

He will ask me about everything--about the farming--

ADELAIDE (_eagerly_).

And about the horses. The old sorrel he was so fond of riding is still alive. KORB. And about the shrubs he planted with you.

ADELAIDE.

Especially about the lilac-bush where my arbor now stands. Be sure you tell him about that.

KORB.

And about the pond. Three hundred and sixty carp!

ADELAIDE.

And sixty gold-tench; don't forget that. And the old carp with the copper ring about his body, that he put there, came out with the last haul, and we threw him back again.

KORB.

And how he will ask about you, Miss Adelaide!

ADELAIDE.

Tell him I am well.

KORB.

And how you have carried on the farming since the general died; and that you take his newspaper which I read aloud to the farm-hands afterward.

ADELAIDE.

Just that you need not tell him. [_Sighing, aside._] On these lines I shall learn nothing whatever. [_Pause, gravely._] See here, dear Korb, I have heard all sorts of things about Mr. Bolz that surprise me. He is said to live an irregular life.

KORB.

Yes, I imagine he does; he always was a wild colt.

ADELAIDE.

He is said to spend more than his income.

KORB.

Yes, that is quite possible. But I am perfectly sure he spends it merrily.

ADELAIDE (_aside_).

Small consolation I shall get from him! (_Indifferently._) He has now a good position, I suppose; won't he soon be looking for a wife?

KORB.

A wife? No, he is not doing that. It is impossible.

ADELAIDE.

Well, I heard something of the kind; at least he is said to be much interested in a young lady. People are talking of it.

KORB.

Why, that would be--no, I don't believe it. (_Hastily._) But I'll ask him about it at once.

ADELAIDE.

Well, he would be the last person to tell you. One learns such things from a man's friends and acquaintances. The village people ought to know it, I suppose, if a Rosenau man marries.

KORB.

Of course they should. I must get at the truth of that.

ADELAIDE.

You would have to go about it the right way. You know how crafty he is.

KORB.

Oh, I'll get round him all right. I'll find some way.

ADELAIDE.

Go, dear Korb! [_Exit_ KORB.] Those were sad tidings with which the Colonel met me. Conrad--immoral, unworthy? It is impossible! A noble character cannot change to that extent. I do not believe one word of what they say!

[_EXIT_.]