Part 6

"Now I took heed, and saw her face grow thinner and thinner, saw that the colour faded more and more from her cheeks, and that her eyes sank deeper and deeper into dark hollows. Nor did she any longer sing, and her laugh had a peculiar tired, hoarse sound that hurt my ears so, that I was sometimes on the point of calling out to her 'Do not laugh!'

"At the same time she began to sicken; she complained of headache and spasms, and only with difficulty dragged herself about the house. Then, of course, papa and mama were bound to notice her condition too; they packed her up in warm wraps, and, in spite of her remonstrance, drove with her to Prussia to consult a doctor. He shrugged his shoulders, prescribed steel pills and advised a change of air.

"Something else, too, he must have advised, which greatly disturbed my parents, at least papa; for mama, since a long time already, was not to be roused from her phlegmatic composure. When she dreamily gazed out into the distance, he often looked at her askance, shook his head, sighed, and slammed the door after him.

"But however much she might be suffering, she would not give up her work. As long as I can remember, I have never seen her idle even for a moment. As a child already she stood with her lesson-book at the cooking-stove, or had an eye on the wash-kitchen, while she wrote her German composition. Since she was grown up, she combined the duties of my instruction with all the cares which a large household imposes upon its manager. Mama had quite retired in virtue of her age, and allowed her to do and dispose as she pleased, if only the _compotes_ and other dainties won her approval.

"I, who was spoilt beyond measure by everyone in the house, was ashamed of my inactivity, and endeavoured to take a part of the responsibility off Martha's shoulders; but with gentle remonstrance she dissuaded me.

"'Leave that, child,' she said, stroking my cheeks; 'you happen to be the princess of the house, you had better remain so.'

"That hurt me. I could bear anything rather than to be repulsed, when I came with my heart full to overflowing of generous resolves.

"One evening I saw her crying. I slunk out into the garden and fought a hard battle. I almost choked with my longing to help, but I could not so far conquer myself as to go up to her and put my arms consolingly about her neck. When I lay in bed, my desire to comfort her came upon me with renewed force; I got up, and in my nightdress, just as I was, I slipped out into the dark corridor.

"For a long time I stood outside her door, trembling with cold and with fear, and with my hand on the door-knob. At last I took heart and crept in softly.

"She knelt before her bed with her head pressed into the pillows. She seemed to be praying.

"I stopped at the door, for I did not venture to disturb her.

"At last she turned round, and at sight of me started up abruptly.

"'What do you want?' she stammered.

"I clung to her, and sobbed fit to soften the heart of a stone.

"'Child--for Heaven's sake--what is the matter with you?' she cried.

"I was incapable of uttering a word. She, in her motherly way, took a large woollen shawl, wrapped me in it, and drew me down upon her knee, though I was then already bigger than she.

"'Now confess, my darling, what ails you?' she asked, stroking my face.

"I gathered up all my strength, and hiding my face upon her neck, I sobbed, 'Martha--I want--to help--you.'

"A long silence ensued, and when I raised up my face I saw an unutterably bitter, sorrowful smile playing about her lips. And then she took my head between her hands, kissed my brow and said:

"'Come, I will put you to bed, child; there is nothing the matter with me--but you--you seem to be in a perfect fever.'

"I jumped up: 'For shame, that is horrid of you, Martha,' I cried; 'I will not be sent away like this. I am not ill, nor am I so stupid that I cannot see how you are pining away, and how each day you gulp down some new sorrow. If you have no confidence in me, I shall conclude that you do not wish to have anything to do with me, and all will be over between us.'

"She folded her hands in astonishment, and looked at me.

"'What has possessed you, child?' she said, 'I do not know you thus.'

"I turned away and bit my lips defiantly.

"'Come, come, I will put you to bed,' she urged again.

"'I don't want--I can go alone,' I said. Then she seemed to feel that a word of explanation must be vouchsafed to the child.

"'See, Olga,' she said, drawing me down to her, 'you are quite right, I have many a sorrow, and if you were older and could understand, you would certainly be the first in whom I should confide. But first you too must learn to know life----.'

"'What more do you know of life than I?' I cried, still defiantly.

"She only smiled. It cut me to the heart, this half-painful, half-ecstatic smile. A dull dawning presentiment awoke within me, such as one might experience in face of closed temple gates or distant palm-wafted islands. And Martha continued:

"'Till then, however--and that will be long!--I must bear what oppresses me alone. Hearty thanks, sister, for your good intention; I would love you twice as much for it, if that were possible; and now go, have your sleep out, we have much to learn to-morrow.'

"With that she pushed me out of the door.

"Like an exile I stood outside on the landing and stared at the door which had closed behind me so cruelly. Then I leant my head against the wall and wept silently and bitterly.

"Martha was henceforth doubly kind and affectionate towards me, but I would not see it. I grew reserved towards her, as she had been towards me, and deeper and deeper the bitter feeling became graven on my soul that the world did not require my love. Of course it was not this one occurrence alone which acted decisively upon my disposition. Such a young creature as I was, is too easily carried away by the tide of new impressions to be lastingly influenced by a few such moments; and, as a matter of fact, it was not long: before I had forgotten that evening. But what I did not forget was the idea that no one dwelt on earth who was willing to share his sorrows with me, and that I was thrown back upon myself and my books until such day as I should be declared ripe to take part in the life of the living.

"Deeper and deeper I dived down into the treasures of the poets, of whom none drove me from his holy of holies. I learnt to feel wretched and exalted with Tasso; I knew what Manfred sought on icy Alpine snowfields; with Thekla I mourned the loss of the earthly happiness I had enjoyed, of the life and love that I had out-lived and out-loved. But, above all, Iphigenia was my heroine and my ideal.

"Through her my young, lonely soul was filled with all the charm of being unintelligible; it seemed to be the mission of my life to go forth like her upon earth as a blessed priestess, sublimely void of earthly desire; and if to this end I might have donned yon white Grecian robes whose noble draperies would so splendidly have suited my early-developed figure, my bliss would have been complete.

"Outwardly I was in those years an obstinate, supercilious creature, who was lavish with rude answers, and fond of getting up from table in the middle of a meal if anything did not suit her taste.

"In spite of all this--or perhaps just for this reason--I was petted by all, and my will, in so far as a child's will can be taken into account, was considered authoritative by the whole house. At fifteen I was as tall and as big as to-day, and already there was found here and there some gallant squire's son who would say that I was much, much better looking than all the others, especially than Martha. That made me indignant, for my vanity was not yet fully developed.

"'About that time, I dreamt one night that Martha had died. When I woke, my pillows were wet through with tears. Like a criminal on that day I crept round my sister. I felt as if I had some heavy offence against her on my conscience.

"After dinner she had gone to lie down for a little on the sofa, for she was suffering again from her headache; and when I entered the room and saw her waxen-pale face with closed eyes, hanging across the sofa-ledge, I started as if struck.

"I felt as if I really saw her already as a corpse before me.

"I dropped down in front of the sofa and covered her lips and brow with kisses. Quite radiantly she opened her eyes and stared at me, as if she saw a vision; only as consciousness returned did her face grow serious and sad, as before.

"'Well, well, my girl, what is the matter with you?' she said. 'This is not your usual behaviour!'

"And gently she pushed me away, so that once more I stood alone with my overflowing heart; but as I was slinking away she came after me, and whispered---

"'I love you very much, my darling sister!'

"On the evening of the same day I noticed that she constantly kept smiling to herself. Papa was struck by it too, for as a rule it never occurred. He took her head between his two hands, and said--

"'What has come over you, Margell? Why you are blooming like a flower to-day.'

"Then she blushed a deep red, while I secretly clasped her hand under the table, and thought to myself, 'We know very well what makes us so happy.'

"Next morning papa came to the breakfast-table with an open letter in his hand.

"'A strange bird is about to fly into our nest,' he said, laughing; 'now guess what his name is!' And with that he looked quite peculiarly across at Martha. She appeared to me to have grown even a shade paler, and the coffee-cup which she held in her hand shook audibly.

"'Has the bird been in our nest before?' she asked slowly and softly, and did not raise her eyes.

"'I should think so indeed!' laughed papa.

"'Then it is--Robert Hellinger,' she said, and sighed deeply, as if after a hard effort.

"'Upon my word, girl, you _are_ one to guess.' said papa, and shook his finger at her.

"But she was silent, and walked from the room with slow, dragging steps--nor did she appear again that morning. For my part I kept pretty cool over our cousin's approaching visit. His image of former days, as it dimly hovered in my memory, was not such as to inspire a romantic imagination of fifteen years with ardent dreams for its sake.

"But Martha's behaviour had struck me. Next day, in the early morning, I heard her walking up and down with long strides in the guest-rooms.

"I followed her, for I was anxious to know what she was busying herself about in these usually closed apartments.

"She had opened all the windows, uncovered the beds, let down the curtains, and now in her wooden shoes was running amidst all this confusion from one room to the other. Her hands she held pressed to her face, and kept laughing to herself; but the laugh sounded more like crying.

"When I asked her, 'What are you doing here, Martha?' she gave a start, looked at me quite confused, and seemed as if she must first think where she was.

"'Don't you see--I am covering the beds.' she stammered after a while.

"'For whom, pray?' I asked.

"'Don't you know we are going to have a visitor?' she answered.

"'I suppose you are awfully pleased at the prospect?' I said, and slightly shrugged my shoulders.

"'Why should I not be pleased?' she replied, 'It is our cousin.'

"'And nothing more?' I asked, shaking my finger at her as I had seen papa do the day before.

"Then she suddenly grew very grave, and looked at me with her big, sad eyes so strangely and reproachfully that I felt how all the blood rushed to my face. I turned away, and as I could no longer keep up my superiority, I slunk out of the door.

"From this moment Cousin Robert caused me many a thought. It seemed clear to me that the two loved each other, and seized by the mysterious awe with which the idea of the great Unknown fills half-grown children of my age, I began to picture to myself how such a love might have taken shape. I ran through the wild-growing shrubs of the park, and said to myself, 'Here they enjoyed their secret walks.' I slipped inside the dusky arbours, and said to myself, 'Here in the moonlight was their trysting-place.' I sank down upon the mossy turf-bank, and said to myself, 'Here they held sweet converse together.' The whole garden, the house, the yard, everything that I had known since the beginning of my life suddenly appeared resplendent in a new light. A purple sheen was spread over all. Wondrous life seemed to have awakened therein. I had so completely absorbed myself in these phantasies, that finally I believed that I myself had lived through this love. When I saw Martha again I did not dare to raise my eyes to her, as if I cherished the secret in my bosom and she were the one who must not guess it.

"But next morning when I reflected that Martha had positively experienced everything that I after all had only dreamt about, I felt quite awed by the thought, and from out of a dark corner I contemplated her fixedly with shy, inquiring looks, as if she were a being from some strange world.

"I was well aware that every five minutes she found something to busy herself about on the verandah, from whence one could look across towards the courtyard-gate; but to-day I took good care not to put any pert questions to her. Now I felt like a confidante--like an accomplice. It was a beautiful clear September day. Over woodland and meadow was spread a rosy veil, silver threads floated softly through the air, the river carried a cover of vapour, and far and wide it was as silent as in a church. I went into the wood, for I could never have excess of solitude to satiate myself with dreams. In the birch-trees faded leaves already rustled; the bracken drooped like a wounded human being that can barely keep upright.

"I grew very sad. 'Now there will be a great dying,' I said: 'ah, that one might die too!'

"And then I remembered what I had heard and read in derision of sentimental autumn thoughts. 'For shame, how wicked!' I thought. 'They shall not deride me, for I shall know how to conceal myself and my feelings. It is no one's business what I do feel. And for all I care they may think me cold and heartless, if only I have the consciousness that my heart beats warmly and full of love for mankind.'

"Yes, that was a delightful, foolish day, and blissfully would I sacrifice what yet remains to me of life, if it might once more be granted to me. In the evening--I can see it all as if it were to-day the windows stood open, the tendrils of the wild vine swayed in the breeze, and from the distance a stamping of hoofs, a clashing of lances and swords greeted my ears. I could see nothing, for the darkness devoured it all, but I knew that it was a band of Cossacks patrolling along the frontier ditch. And then I closed my eyes and dreamt that a troop of knights were coming riding along at full speed--led by a fair, handsome prince, mounted on a milk-white charger. But I was the chatelaine sitting in the turret-room of the old castle, and the fame of my beauty had penetrated to every land, so that the prince had set forth surrounded by a company of picked horsemen, to seek me out and ask my hand in marriage of the old nobleman my father.

"And then I remembered Martha; and whether, as the elder, she would not be preferred. But she loves her Robert, I comforted myself, she wants no prince. And then I pictured to myself what I would give to each member of my family when I had mounted the throne: to Martha wonderful jewellery, to papa an iron chest full of gold, and to mama a box of pine-apple sweets.

"The clashing of lances died away in the distance--and my dream was at an end.

* * * * *

"Next day he came.

"When the carriage that brought him rolled in at the courtyard gate, Martha was busy in the kitchen. I ran to her, and beaming with pleasure I whispered into her ear, 'Martha, I believe he is here.' But she forthwith apprised me that I was not her confidante. She looked at me vaguely for a time, then asked absently, 'Whom do you mean?'

"'Whom else but our cousin?'

"'Why do you tell me that in a whisper?' she asked. And when, in answer, I shrugged my shoulders, she once more took up the kitchen spoon she had put down, and went on stirring.

"'Is that the extent of your pleasure, Martha?' I asked, while I contemptuously pursed my lips.

"But she pushed me aside with her left hand and said, more passionately than was her wont, 'Child, I beg of you, go!'

"And thus it came about that I received Cousin Robert in her stead.

"As I stepped out on to the verandah, he was just alighting from his carriage.

"'He does not look much better than papa,' that was my first thought. A great strong man like a giant, with broad chest and shoulders, his face sun-burnt, with little blue eyes in it, and framed by a shaggy beard, such a beard as the 'lancequenets' used to wear.

"'Only the chin-strap is wanting,' I thought to myself.

"He came jumping up the steps laughing towards me.

"'Well, good morning, Martha!' he cried.

"And then suddenly he stopped short, measured me from head to foot and stood there, half-way up the stairs, as if petrified.

"'My name is not Martha, but Olga!' I remarked, somewhat dejectedly.

"'Ah, that accounts for it!' he cried, shaking with laughter, stepped up to me and offered me a red, horny hand, quite covered with cracks and weals.

"'What an uncouth fellow!' I thought in my own mind. And when we had entered the room he looked me up and down again and said, 'You were quite a little thing yet, Olga, when I went away from here; now it seems like a wonder to me that you should be so like Martha!'

"'I like Martha,' thought I, 'when was I ever in the least like Martha?'

"'But no,' he continued, 'she was not so tall, and her hair was fairer, and she did not stand there so haughtily--and--and--did not make such serious eyes.'

"'Ah, good Heavens,' thought I, 'you first look into Martha's eyes!'

"At this moment the kitchen door opened quite, quite slowly, and through a narrow aperture she squeezed herself in. She had not taken off her white apron. Her face was as white as this apron, and her lips trembled.

"'Welcome, Robert!' she said softly behind his back, for he had turned towards me.

"At the first sound of her voice he veered round like lightning, and then for about a minute they stood facing each other without moving, without uttering a word.

"I trembled. For two days I had lain in wait for this moment, and now it fell so wretchedly short of my expectations. Then they slowly approached each other, and kissed. This kiss too did not satisfy me. He could not have kissed _me_ differently; 'only that he did not attempt that at all,' I added mentally. And then they both were silent again. My heart beat so wildly that I had to press both hands to my bosom.

"At last Martha said, 'Won't you take a seat, Robert?'

"He nodded and threw himself into the sofa-corner so that all its joints creaked. He looked at her again and again, then after a long time he remarked, 'You are very much changed, Martha!'

"I felt as if he had given me a slap in the face.

"An unutterably sad smile played about Martha's lips.

"'Yes, I suppose I am changed,' she then said.

"Renewed silence. It seemed as if a long time were necessary for him to put a thought into words.

"'Why did I never hear that you were ailing?' he began again at length.

"'That I do not know.' she replied, with bitter affability.

"'Could you not write to me about it?'

"'Are we in the habit of writing to each other?' she asked in return.

"He gave the table an angry shove.

"'But if one is not well--then--then--'; he did not know how to proceed.

"I pressed my fists together. I should so have liked to finish his sentence for him.

"'Never mind.' said Martha, 'one often knows least one's self when one is not well.'

"'I should think one ought to know that best one's self,' he replied.

"'What if one does not think it worth while to take any notice of it?' This time she spoke without bitterness, modestly and quietly as she always spoke, and yet every word cut me to the quick.

"('Oh, Martha, why did you repulse me?' a voice within me cried.)

"And thereupon she broke into a short laugh, and asked how things were at home, and whether uncle and aunt were well.

"'First I should like to know how my uncle and my aunt are,' he said, and looked into the four corners of the room.

"I was so glad to see the strained mood giving way, that I burst into a loud laugh at his comical search.

"Both looked at me in astonishment as if they only just remembered my presence.

"'And what do you say to our child?' asked Martha, taking my hand in motherly fashion, 'does she please you?'

"'Better now already,' he said, scrutinising me, 'before, she was too stiff for me.'

"'I could hardly put my arms round your neck at once?' I replied.

"'Why not?' he asked, smiling complacently, 'do you think there is no room for you there?'

"'No,' said I, to let him know at once how to take me, 'that room is not the place for me.'

"He looked at me quite taken aback, and then remarked, nodding his head--

"'By Jingo, the little woman is pretty sharp.'

"I was going to reply something, but at that moment papa entered the room.

"At table I constantly kept my eye on the two, without however being able to notice anything suspicious.

"Their eyes hardly met.

"'Afterwards when the old people are taking their nap,' I thought to myself, 'they are sure to try and make their escape.' But I was mistaken. They quietly remained in the sitting-room, and did not even seem anxious to get me out of the way. He sat in the sofa-corner smoking, she, five paces away at the window, with some needlework.

"'Perhaps they are too shy,' I thought, 'and are waiting till an opportunity presents itself.' I marked a few signs and slipped out. Then for half an hour I crouched in my room with a beating heart and counted the minutes till I might go back again.

"'Now he will go up to her,' I said to myself, 'will take her hands and look long into her eyes. "Do you still love me?" he will ask; and she, blushing rosy red, will sink with tear-dimmed gaze upon his breast.'

"I closed my eyes and sighed. My temples were throbbing; I felt more and more how my fancies intoxicated me, and then I went on picturing to myself how he would drop on his knees before her and, with ardent looks, stammer forth glowing declarations of love and faithfulness.

"I knew by heart everything that he was saying to her at this moment, no less than what she was answering. I could have acted as prompter to them both. When the half-hour was over, I held counsel with myself whether I should grant them a few moments longer. I was at present their fate and as such I smilingly showered my favours upon them.

"'Let them drain their cup of bliss to the last drop!' said I, and resolved to take a walk through the garden yet. But curiosity overpowered me so that I turned back half-way.

"Softly I crept up to the door, but hardly did I find courage to turn the handle. The thought of what I was about to see almost took my breath away.

"And what did I see now, after all?

"There he still sat in his sofa-corner as before, and had smoked his cigar down to a tiny stump; but in her embroidery there was a flower which had not been there before.

"'Why do you shrug your shoulders so contemptuously?' asked Martha, and Robert added, 'It seems I do not meet with her ladyship's gracious approval.'

"'So,' thought I, 'for all my kindness I get sneers into the bargain,' and went out slamming the door after me. That same night, I, foolish young creature that I was, lay awake till nearly morning, and pictured to myself how I, Olga Bremer, would have behaved had I been in the place of those two. First I was Robert, then Martha; I felt, I spoke, I acted for them, and through the silence of my bedroom there sounded the passionate whisperings of ardent, world-despising love.