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Goethe's Works illustrated by the best German artists, Volume 5, Part 2

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Title:
Goethe's Works illustrated by the best German artists, Volume 5, Part 2
Creator:
Goethe, Johann Wolfgang von
Place of Publication:
Philadelphia, Penn.
Publisher:
G. Barrie
Publication Date:
Language:
English
Physical Description:
5 v. in 10 : ill. ; 30 cm.

Notes

General Note:
v. 1. The life of Goethe / by Hjalmar H. Boyesen ; Poems (Songs ; Familiar songs ; From Wilhelm Meister ; Ballads ; Antiques ; Elegies ; Epigrams ; The four seasons ; Sonnets ; Miscellaneous poems ; Art ; Parables ; Epigrams ; God und world ; West-Eastern Divan ; Hermann und Dorothea) -- v. 2. Faust ; Egmont ; The natural daughter ; The sorrows of young Werther -- v. 3. Goetz von Berlichingen ; Iphigenia in Tauris ; Torquato Tasso ; Clavigo ; Stella; The brother and sister ; A tale ; The good women ; Reynard the Fox -- v. 4. The recreations of the German emigrants ; Wilhelm Meister's apprenticeship -- v. 5. , pt. 1. Wilhelm Meister's travels --Elective affinities.

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CHAPTER I.
Edwardso we shall call a wealthy noble-
man in the prime of lifehad been spending
several hours of a fine April morning in his
nursery-garden, budding the stems of some
young trees with cuttings which had been
recently sent to him. He had finished what
he was about, and having laid his tools to-
gether in their box, was complacently sur-
veying his work, when the gardener came
up and complimented his master on his in-
dustry.
Have you seen my wife anywhere? in-
quired Edward, as he moved to go away.
My lady is alone yonder in the new
grounds, said the man; the summer-house
which she has been making on the rock over
against the castle is finished to-day, and really
it is beautiful. It cannot fail to please your
grace. The view from it is perfedt:the
village at your feet; a little to your right the
church, with its tower, which you can just see
over; and diredlly opposite you, the castle
and the garden.
Quite true, replied Edward; I can see
the people at work a few steps from where I
am standing.
And then, to the right of the church
again, continued the gardener, is the
opening of the valley; and you look along
over a range of wood and meadow far into
the distance. The steps up the rock, too,
are excellently arranged. My gracious lady
understands these things; it is a pleasure to
work under her.
Go to her, said Edward, and desire
her to be so good as to wait for me there.
Tell her I wish to see this new creation of
hers, and enjoy it with her.
The gardener went rapidly off, and Edward
soon followed. Descending the terrace, and
stopping as he passed to look into the hot-
houses and the forcing-pits, he came presently to
the stream, and thence, over a narrow bridge,
to a place where the walk leading to the sum-
mer-house branched off in two directions.
One path led across the churchyard, imme-
diately up the face of the rock. The other,
into which he struck, wound away to the left,
with a more gradual ascent, through a pretty
shrubbery. Where the two paths joined again,
231


a seat had been made, where he stopped a
few moments to rest; and then, following the
now single road, he found himself, after
scrambling along among steps and slopes of j
all sorts and kinds, conduced at last through
a narrow more or less steep outlet to the sum-
mer-house.
Charlotte was standing at the door to re-
ceive her husband. She made him sit down
where, without moving, he could command a
view of the different landscapes through the
door and windowthese serving as frames, in
which they were set like pictures. Spring was
coming on; a rich, beautiful life would soon
everywhere be bursting; and Edward spoke
of it with delight.
There is only one thing which I should
observe, he added, the summer-house it-
self is rather small.
It is large enough for you and me, at any
rate, answered Charlotte.
Certainly, said Edward; there is room
for a third, too, easily.
Of course; and for a fourth also, replied
Charlotte. For larger parties we can con-
trive other places.
Now that we are here by ourselves, with
no one to disturb us, and in such a pleasant
mood, said Edward, it is a good oppor-
tunity for me to tell you that I have for some
time had something on my mind, about which
I have wished to speak to you, but have never
been able to muster up my courage.
I have observed that there has been some-
thing of the sort, said Charlotte.
And even now, Edward went on, if it
were not for a letter which the post brought
me this morning, and which obliges me to
come to some resolution to-day, I should very
likely have still kept it to myself.
What is it, then? asked Charlotte, turn-
ing affectionately towards him.
It concerns our friend the captain,
answered Edward; you know the unfor-
tunate position in which he, like many others,
is placed. It is through no fault of his own;
but you may imagine how painful it must be
for a person with his knowledge and talents
and accomplishments, to find himself without
employment. II will not hesitate any
longer with what I am wishing for him. I
should like to have him here with us for a
time.
We must think about that, replied
Charlotte; it should be considered on more
sides than one.
I am quite ready to tell you what I have
in view, returned Edward. Through his
last letters there is a prevailing tone of des-
pondency; not that he is really in any want.
He knows thoroughly well how to limit his
expenses; and I have taken care for every-
thing absolutely necessary. It is no distress
to him to accept obligations from me; all our
lives we have been in the habit of borrowing
from and lending to each other; and we could
not tell, if we would, how our debtor and
creditor account stands. It is being without
occupation which is really fretting him. The
many accomplishments which he has cultivated
in himself, it is his only pleasureindeed, it
is his passionto be daily and hourly exer-
cising for the benefit of others. And now, to
sit still, with his arms folded; or to go on
studying, acquiring and acquiring, when he
can make no use of what he already pos-
sesses ;my dear creature, it is a painful situa-
tion ; and alone as he is, he feels it doubly
and trebly.
But I thought, said Charlotte, that he
had had offers from many different quarters.
I myself wrote to numbers of my own friends,
male and female, for him; and, as I have
reason to believe, not without effedt.
'It is true, replied Edward; but these
very offers these various proposals have
only caused him fresh embarrassment. Not
one of them is at all suitable to such a person
as he is. He would have nothing to do; he
would have to sacrifice himself, his time, his
purposes, his whole method of life; and to
that he cannot bring himself. The more I
think of it all, the more I feel about it,
and the more anxious I am to see him here
with us.
It is very beautiful and amiable in you,
answered Charlotte, to enter with so much
sympathy into your friends position; only
you must allow me to ask you to think of
yourself and of me, as well.
I have done that, replied Edward. For
ourselves, we can have nothing to expedl from
his presence with us, except pleasure and ad-
vantage. I will say nothing of the expense.
In any case, if he came to us, it would be but
small; and you know he will be of no incon-
venience to us at all. He can have his own
rooms in the right wing of the castle, and
everything else can be arranged as simply as
possible. What shall we not be thus doing
for him! and how agreeable and how profit-
able may not his society prove to us! I have
232


long been wishing for a plan of the property I
and the grounds. He will see to it, and get !
it made. You intend yourself to take the :
management of the estate, as soon as our
present stewards term is expired; and that,
you know, is a serious thing. His various
information will be of immense benefit to us;
I feel only too acutely how much I require a
person of this kind. The country people
have knowledge enough, but their way of im-
parting it is confused, and not always honest.
The students from the towns and universities
are sufficiently clever and orderly, but they
are deficient in personal experience. From
my friend, I can promise myself both knowl-
edge and method, and hundreds of other
circumstances I can easily conceive arising,
affecting you as well as me, and from which I
can foresee innumerable advantages. Thank
you for so patiently listening to me. Now,
do you say what you think, and say it out
freely and fully; I will not interrupt you.
Very well, replied Charlotte; I will
begin at once with a general observation.
Men think most of the immediatethe pres-
ent; and rightly, their calling being to do
and to work. Women, on the other hand,
I more of how things hang together in life; and
! that rightly too, because their destinythe
: destiny of their familiesis bound up in this
interdependence, and it is exactly this which
it is their mission to promote. So now let us
cast a glance at our present and our past life;
and you will acknowledge that the invitation
of the captain does not fall in so entirely
with our purposes, our plans, and our arrange-
ments. I will go back to those happy days
of our earliest intercourse. We loved each
other, young as we then were, with all our
hearts. We were parted: you from me
your father, from an insatiable desire of
wealth, choosing to marry you to an elderly
and rich lady; I from you, having to give my
hand, without any especial motive, to an ex-
cellent man, whom I respedted, if I did not
love. We became again freeyou first, your
poor mother at the same time leaving you in
possession of your large fortune; I later, just
at the time when you returned from abroad.
So we met once more. We spoke of the past;
we could enjoy and love the recollection of
it; we might have been contented, in each
others society, to leave things as they were.
You were urgent for our marriage. I at first
559
233




hesitated. We were about the same age; but
I as a woman had grown older than you as a
man. At last I could not refuse you what you
seemed to think the one thing you cared for.
All the discomfort which you had ever ex-
perienced, at court, in the army, or in travel-
ling, you were to recover from at my side; you
would settle down and enjoy life; but only
with me for your companion. I settled my
daughter at a school, where she could be more
completely educated than would be possible
in the retirement of the country; and I placed
my niece Ottilie there with her as well, who,
perhaps, would have grown up better at home
with me, under my own care. This was done
with your consent, merely that we might have
our own lives to ourselvesmerely that we
might enjoy undisturbed our so-long-wished-
for, so-long-delayed happiness. We came here
and settled ourselves. I undertook the do-
mestic part of the menage, you the out-of-
doors, and the general control. My own
principle has been to meet your wishes in
everything, to live only for you. At least, let
us give ourselves a fair trial how far in this
way we can be enough for one another.
Since the interdependence of things, as
you call it, is your especial element, replied
Edward, one should either never listen to
any of your trains of reasoning, or make up
ones mind to allow you to be in the right;
and, indeed, you have been in the right up to
the present day. The foundation which we
have hitherto been laying for ourselves, is of
the true, sound sort; only, are we to build
nothing upon it ? is nothing to be developed
out of it? All the work we have doneI in
the garden, you in the parkis it all only for
a pair of hermits?
Well, well, replied Charlotte, very
well. What we have to look to is, that we
introduce no alien element, nothing which
shall cross or obstruct us. Remember, our
plans, even those which only concern our
amusements, depend mainly on our being to-
gether. You were to read to me, in con-
secutive order, the journal which you made
when you were abroad. You were to take the
opportunity of arranging it, putting all the
loose matter connected with it in its place;
and with me to work with you and help you,
out of these invaluable but chaotic leaves and
sheets to put together a complete thing, which
should give pleasure to ourselves and to others.
I promised to assist you in transcribing; and
we thought it would be so pleasant, so delight-
ful, so charming, to travel over in recollection
the world which we were unable to see to-
gether. The beginning is already made.
Then, in the evenings, you have taken up
your flute again, accompanying me on the
piano, while of visits backwards and forwards
among the neighborhood, there is abundance.
For my part, I have been promising myself
out of all this the first really happy summer I
have ever thought to spend in my life.
Only I cannot see, replied Edward,
rubbing his forehead, how, through every
bit of this which you have been so sweetly and
so sensibly laying before me, the captains
presence can be any interruption; I should
rather have thought it would give it all fresh
zest and life. He was my companion during
a part of my travels. He made many obser-
vations from a different point of view from
mine. We can put it all altogether, and so
make a charmingly complete work of it.
Well, then, I will acknowledge openly,
answered Charlotte, with some impatience,
my feeling is against this plan. I have an
instinCt which tells me no good will come
of it.
You women are invincible in this way,
replied Edward. You are so sensible, that
there is no answering you, then so affectionate,
that one is glad to give way to you; full of
feelings, which one cannot wound, and full
of forebodings, which terrify one.
I am not superstitious, said Charlotte;
and I care nothing for these dim sensations,
merely as such; but in general they are the
result of unconscious recollections of happy
or unhappy consequences, which we have ex-
perienced as following on our own or others
aCtions. Nothing is of greater moment, in
any state of things, than the intervention of a
third person. I have seen friends, brothers
and sisters, lovers, husbands and wives, whose
relation to each other, through the accidental
or intentional introduction of a third person,
has been altogether changedwhose whole
moral condition has been inverted by it.
That may very well be, replied Edward,
with people who live on without looking
where they are going; but not, surely, with
persons whom experience has taught to under-
stand themselves.
That understanding ourselves, my dearest
husband, insisted Charlotte, is no such
certain weapon. It is very often a most
dangerous one for the person who bears it.
And out of all this, at least so much seems to
234


arise, that we should not be in too great a
hurry. Let me have a few days to think;
dont decide.
As the matter stands, returned Edward,
wait as many days as we will, we shall still
be in too great a hurry. The arguments for
and against are all before us; all we want is
the conclusion, and, as things are, I think the
best thing we can do is to draw lots.
I know, said Charlotte, that in doubt-
ful cases it is your way to leave them to chance.
To me, in such a serious matter, this seems
almost a crime.
Then what am I to write to the captain ?
cried Edward; for write I must at once.
Write him a kind, sensible, sympathizing
letter, answered Charlotte.
That is as good as none at all, replied
Edward.
And there are many cases, an-
swered she, in which we are obliged,
and in which it is the real kindness,
rather to write nothing than not to
write.
CHAPTER II.
Edward was alone in his room.
The repetition of the incidents of his
life from Charlottes lips; the repre-
sentation of their mutual situation,
their mutual purposes; had worked
him, sensitive as he was, into a very
pleasant state of mind. While close
to herwhile in her presencehe had
felt so happy, that he had thought
out a warm, kind, but quiet and in-
definite epistle which he would send
to the captain. When, however, he
had settled himself at his writing-table,
and taken up his friends letter to read
it over once more, the sad condition
of this excellent man rose again vividly
before him. The feelings which had
been all day distressing him again
awoke, and it appeared impossible to
him to leave one whom he called his
friend in such painful embarrassment.
Edward was unaccustomed to deny
himself anything. The only child,
and consequently the spoiled child, of
wealthy parents, who had persuaded him into
a singular, but highly advantageous marriage
with a lady far older than himself; and again
by her petted and indulged in every possible
way, she seeking to reward his kindness to her
by the utmost liberality; after her early death
his own master, travelling independently of
every one, equal to all contingencies and all
changes, with desires never excessive, but
multiple and variousfree-hearted, generous,
brave, at times even noblewhat was there in
the world to cross or thwart him ?
Hitherto, everything had gone as he de-
sired Charlotte had become his; he had
won her at last, with an obstinate, a romantic
fidelity; and now he felt himself, for the first
time, contradicted, crossed in his wishes,
when those wishes were to invite to his home
the friend of his youthjust as he was long-
ing, as it were, to throw open his whole heart
to him. He felt annoyed, impatient; he took
up his pen again and again, and as often
threw it down again, because he could not
K.efteND-i\xouRX.&i
make up his mind what to write. Against
his wifes wishes he would not go; against
her expressed desire he could not. Ill at ease
as he was, it would have been impossible for
235


him, even if he had wished, to write a quiet,
easy letter. The most natural thing to do
was to put it off. In a few words he begged
his friend to forgive him for having left his
letter unanswered; that day he was unable to
write circumstantially; but shortly, he hoped
to be able to tell him what he felt at greater
length.
The next day, as they were walking to the
same spot, Charlotte took the opportunity of
bringing back the conversation to the subjedt,
perhaps because she knew that there is no
surer way of rooting out any plan or purpose,
than by often talking it over.
It was what Edward was wishing. He ex-
pressed himself in his own way, kindly and
sweetly. For although, sensitive as he was,
lie flamed up readilyalthough the vehemence
with which he desired anything made him
pressing, and his obstinacy made him im-
patienthis words were so softened by his
wish to spare the feelings of those to whom
he was speaking, that it was impossible not to
be charmed, even when one most disagreed,
with him.
This morning, he first contrived to bring
Charlotte into the happiest humor, and then
so disarmed her with the graceful turn which
he gave to the conversation, that she cried out
at last:
You are determined that what I refused to
the husband you will make me grant to the
lover. At least, my dearest, she continued,
I will acknowledge that your wishes, and
the warmth and sweetness with which you ex-
press them, have not left me untouched, have
not left me unmoved. You drive me to make
a confession;till now, I too have had a con-
cealment from you; I am in exadlly the same
position with you, and I have hitherto been
putting the same restraint on my inclination
which I have been exhorting you to put on
yours.
Glad am I to hear that, said Edward.
In the married state, a difference of opinion
now and then, I see, is no bad thing; we
learn something of one another by it.
You are to learn at present, then, said
Charlotte, that it is with me about Ottilie
as it is with you about the captain. The dear
child is most uncomfortable at the school,
and I am thoroughly uneasy about her. Lu-
ciana, my daughter, born as she is for the
world, is there training hourly for the world;
languages, history, everything that is taught
there, she acquires with so much ease that, as
it were, she learns them off at sight. She has
quick natural gifts, and an excellent memory;
one may almost say she forgets everything,
and in a moment calls it all back again. She
distinguishes herself above every one at the
school with the freedom of her carriage, the
grace of her movement, and the elegance of
her address, and with the inborn royalty of
nature makes herself the queen of the little
circle there. The superior of the establish-
ment regards her as a little divinity, who,
under her hands, is shaping into excellence,
and who will do her honor, gain her repu-
tation, and bring her a large increase of
pupils; the first pages of this good ladys
letters, and her monthly notices of progress,
are forever hymns about the excellence of
such a child, which I have to translate into
my own prose; while her concluding sentences
about Ottilie are nothing but excuse after ex-
cuseattempts at explaining how it can be
that a girl in other respedts growing up so
lovely seems coming to nothing, and shows
neither capacity nor accomplishment. This,
and the little she has to say besides, is no rid-
dle to me, because I can see in this dear
child the same character as that of her mother,
who was my own dearest friend; who grew up
with myself, and whose daughter, I am cer-
tain, if I had the care of her education,
would form into an exquisite creature.
This, however, has not fallen in with our
plan, and as one ought not to be picking and
pulling, or forever introducing new elements
among the conditions of our life, I think it
better to bear, and to conquer as I can, even
the unpleasant impression that my daughter,
who knows very well that poor Ottilie is en-
tirely dependent upon us, does not refrain
from flourishing her own successes in her face,
and so, to a certain extent, destroys the little
good which we have done for her. Who are
well trained enough never to wound others by
a parade of their own advantages ? and who
stands so high as not at times to suffer under
such a slight? In trials like these, Ottilies
charadter is growing in strength, but since I
have clearly known the painfulness of her
situation, I have been thinking over all possi-
ble ways to make some other arrangement.
Every hour I am expelling an answer to my
own last letter, and then I do not mean to
hesitate any more. So, my dear Edward, it
is with me. We have both, you see, the same
sorrows to bear, touching both our hearts in
the same point. Let us bear them together,
236


since we neither of us can press our own
against the other.
We are strange creatures, said Edward,
smiling. If we can only put out of sight
anything which troubles us, we fancy at once
we have got rid of it. We can give up much
in the large and general; but to make sacri-
fices in little things is a demand to which
we are rarely equal. So it was with my
mother,as long as I lived with her, while a
boy and a young man, she could not bear to
let me be a moment out of her sight. If I
was out later than usual in my ride, some mis-
fortune must have happened to me. If I got
wet through in a shower, a fever was inevit-
able. I travelled; I was absent from her
altogether; and, at once, I scarcely seemed
to belong to her. If we look at it closer,
he continued, we are both adting very fool-
ishly, very culpably. Two very noble natures,
both of which have the closest claims on our
affedtion, we are leaving exposed to pain and
distress, merely to avoid exposing ourselves to
a chance of danger. If this is not to be
called selfish, what is? You take Ottilie.
Let me have the captain; and, for a short
period, at least, let the trial be made.
We might venture it, said Charlotte,
thoughtfully, if the danger were only to our-
selves. But do you think it prudent to bring
Ottilie and the captain into a situation where
they must necessarily be so closely intimate;
the captain, a man no older than yourself, of
an age (I am not saying this to flatter you)
when a man becomes first capable of love
and first deserving of it, and a girl of Ottilies
at tradliveness?
I cannot conceive how you can rate Ottilie
so high, replied Edward. I can only ex-
plain it to myself by supposing her to have
inherited your affedtion for her mother. Pretty
she is, no doubt. I remember the captain ob-
serving it to me, when we came back last year,
and met her at your aunts. Attradtive she
is,she has particularly pretty eyes; but I do
not know that she made the slightest im-
pression upon me.
That was quite proper in you, said
Charlotte, seeing that I was there; and,
although she is much younger than I, the
presence of your old friend had so many
charms for you, that you overlooked the
promise of the opening beauty. It is one of
your ways; and that is one reason why it is so
pleasant to live with you.
Charlotte, openly as she appeared to be
speaking, was keeping back something, never-
theless; which was that at the time when
Edward came first back from abroad, she had
purposely thrown Ottilie in his way, to secure,
if possible, so desirable a match for her pro-
tegee. For of herself, at that time, in con-
nection with Edward, she never thought at all.
The captain, also, had a hint given to him
to draw Edwards attention to her; but the
latter, who was clinging determinately to his
early affection for Charlotte, looked neither
right nor left, and was only happy in the feel-
ing that it was at last within his power to
obtain for himself the one happiness which he
so earnestly desired; and which a series of in-
cidents had appeared to have placed forever
beyond his reach.
They were on the point of descending the
new grounds, in order to return to the castle,
when a servant came hastily to meet them,
and, with a laugh on his face, called up from
below, Will your grace be pleased to come
quickly to the castle? The Herr Mittler has
just galloped into the court. He shouted to
us, to go all of us in search of you, and we
were to ask whether there was need, whether
there is need, he cried after us, do you hear?
but be quick, be quick.
The odd fellow, exclaimed Edward.
But has he not come at the right time,
Charlotte ? Tell him, there is need,grievous
need. He must alight. See his horse taken
care of. Take him into the saloon, and let
him have some luncheon. We shall be with
him immediately.
Let us take the nearest way, he said to
his wife, and struck into the path across the
churchyard, which he usually avoided. He
was not a little surprised to find here, too,
traces of Charlottes delicate hand. Sparing,
as far as possible, the old monuments, she had
contrived to level it, and lay it carefully out,
so as to make it appear a pleasant spot on
which the eye and the imagination could
equally repose with pleasure. The oldest
stones had each their special honor assigned
them. They were ranged according to their
dates along the wall, either leaning against it,
or let into it, or however it could be con-
trived; and the string-course of the church
was thus variously ornamented.
Edward was singularly affedted as he came
in upon it through the little wicket: he pressed
Charlottes hand, and tears started into his
eyes. But these were very soon put to flight
by the appearance of their singular visitor.
560
237


This gentleman had declined sitting down in
the castle; he had ridden straight through the
village to the churchyard gate; and then,
halting, he called out to his friends, Are
you not making a fool of me ? Is there need,
really? If there is, I can stay till midday.
But dont keep me. I have a great deal to do
before night.
Since you have taken the trouble to come
so far, cried Edward to him, in answer,
you had better come through the gate. We
meet at a solemn spot. Come and see the
variety which Charlotte has thrown over its
sadness.
Inside there, called out the rider, come
I neither on horseback, nor in carriage, nor
on foot. These here rest in peace: with them
I have nothing to do. One day I shall be
carried in feet foremost. I must bear that as
I can. Is it serious, I want to know?
Indeed it is, cried Charlotte, right
serious. For the first time in our married
lives we are in a strait and difficulty, from
which we do not know how to extricate our-
selves.
You do not look as if it were so, an-
swered he. But I will believe you. If you
are deceiving me, for the future you shall help
238
yourselves. Follow me quickly, my horse will
be none the worse for a rest.
The three speedily found themselves in the
saloon together. Luncheon was brought in,
and Mittler told them what that day he had
done, and was going to do. This eccentric
person had in early life been a clergyman, and
had distinguished himself in his office by the
never-resting activity with which he contrived
to make up and put an end to quarrels; quar-
rels in families, and quarrels between neigh-
bors ; first among the individuals immediately
about him, and afterwards among whole con-
gregations, and among the country gentlemen
round. While he was in the ministry, no
married couple were allowed to separate; and
the district courts were untroubled with either
cause or process. A knowledge of the law,
he was well aware, was necessary to him. He
gave himself with all his might to the study
of it, and very soon felt himself a match for
the best trained advocate. His circle of ac-
tivity extended wonderfully, and people were
on the point of inducing him to move to the
residence, where he would find opportunities
of exercising in the higher circles what he had
begun in the lowest, when he won a consider-
able sum of money in a lottery. With this, he


bought himself a small property. He let the
ground to a tenant, and made it the centre of
his operations, with the fixed determination,
or rather in accordance with his old customs
and inclinations, never to enter a house when
there was no dispute to make up, and no help
to be given. People who were superstitious
about names, and about what they imported,
maintained that it was his being called Mittler
which drove him to take upon himself this
strange employment.
Luncheon was laid on the table, and the
stranger then solemnly pressed his host not to
wait any longer with the disclosure which he
had to make. Immediately after refreshing
himself he would be obliged to leave them.
Husband and wife made a circumstantial
confession; but scarcely had he caught the
substance of the matter, when he started
angrily up from the table, rushed out of the
saloon, and ordered his horse to be saddled
instantly.
Either you do not know me, you do not
understand me, he cried, or you are sorely
mischievous. Do you call this a quarrel ?
Is there any want of help here? Do you sup-
pose that I am in the world to give advice ?
Of all occupations which man can pursue,
that is the most foolish. Every man must be
his own counsellor, and do what he cannot let
alone. If all go well, let him be happy, let
him enjoy his wisdom and his fortune; if it
go ill, I am at hand to do what I can for him.
The man who desires to be rid of an evil
knows what he wants; but the man who de-
sires something better than he has got is stone
blind. Yes, yes, laugh as you will, he is play-
ing blindmans-buff; perhaps he gets hold of
something, but the question is what he has got
hold of. Do as you will, it is all one. Invite
your friends to you, or let them be, it is all
the same. The most prudent plans I have
seen miscarry, and the most foolish succeed.
Dont split your brains about it; and if, one
way or the other, evil comes of what you
settle, dont fret; send for me, and you shall
be helped. Till which time, I am your hum-
ble servant.
So saying, he sprang on his horse, without
waiting the arrival of the coffee.
Here you see, said Charlotte, the small
service a third person can be, when things are
off their balance between two persons closely
connedted; we are left, if possible, more con-
fused and more uncertain than we were.
They would both, probably, have continued
hesitating some time longer, had not a letter
arrived from the captain, in reply to Edwards
last. He had made up his mind to accept
one of the situations which had been offered
him, although it was not in the least up to his
mark. He was to share the ennui of certain
wealthy persons of rank, who depended on his
ability to dissijDate it.
Edwards keen glance saw into the whole
thing, and he pictured it out in just, sharp
lines.
Can we endure to think of our friend in
such a position ? he cried; you cannot be so
cruel, Charlotte.
That strange Mittler is right after all,
replied Charlotte; all such undertakings are
ventures; what will come of them it is im-
possible to foresee. New elements introduced
among us may be fruitful in fortune or in mis-
fortune, without our having to take credit to
ourselves for one or the other. I do not feel
myself firm enough to oppose you further.
Let us make the experiment; only one thing
I will entreat of youthat it be only for a
short time. You must allow me to exert my-
self more than ever, to use all my influence
among all my connedtions, to find him some
position which will satisfy him in his own
way.
Edward poured out the warmest expressions
of gratitude. He hastened, with a light,
happy heart, to write off his proposals to his
friend. Charlotte, in a postscript, was to
signify her approbation with her own hand,
and unite her own kind entreaties with his.
She wrote, with a rapid pen, pleasantly and
affedtionately, but yet with a sort of haste
which was not usual with her; and, most un-
like herself, she disfigured the paper at last
with a blot of ink, which put her out of tem-
per, and which she only made worse with her
attempts to wipe it away.
Edward laughed at her about it, and, as
there was still room, added a second post-
script, that his friend was to see from this
symptom the impatience with which he was
expedted, and measure the speed at which he
came to them by the haste in which the letter
was written.
The messenger was gone; and Edward
thought he could not give a more convincing
evidence of his gratitude than by insisting
again and again that Charlotte should at once
send for Ottilie from the school. She said she
would think about it; and, for that evening,
induced Edward to join with her in the enjoy-
239


ment of a little music. Charlotte played ex- I
ceedingly well on the piano, Edward not quite j
so well on the flute. He had taken a great
deal of pains with it at times; but he was
without the patience, without the perseverance,
which are requisite for the completely success-
ful cultivation of such a talent; consequently,
his part was done unequally, some pieces well,
only perhaps too quicklywhile with others
he hesitated, not being quite familiar with
them; so that, for anyone else, it would have
been difficult to have gone through a duet
with him. But Charlotte knew how to manage
it. She held in, or let herself be run away
with, and fulfilled in this way the double part
of a skilful conductor and a prudent house-
wife, who are able always to keep right on the
whole, although particular passages will now
and then fall out of order.
CHAPTER III.
The captain came, having previously writ-
ten a most sensible letter, which had entirely
quieted Charlottes apprehensions. So much
clearness about himself, so just an understand-
ing of his own position and the position of
his friends, promised everything which was
best and happiest.
The conversation of the first few hours, as
is generally the case with friends who have
not met for a long time, was eager, lively,
almost exhausting. Towards evening, Char-
lotte proposed a walk to the new grounds.
The captain was delighted with the spot, and
observed every beauty which had been first
brought into sight and made enjoyable by the
new walks. He had a practised eye, and at
the same time one easily satisfied; and al-
though he knew very well what was really
valuable, he never, as so many persons do,
made people who were showing him things of
their own uncomfortable, by requiring more
than the circumstances admitted of, or by
mentioning anything more perfect, which he
remembered having seen elsewhere.
When they arrived at the summer-house,
they found it dressed out for a holiday, only,
indeed, with artificial flowers and evergreens,
but with some pretty bunches of natural corn-
ears among them, and other field and garden
fruit, so as to do credit to the taste which had
arranged them.
Although my husband does not like in
general to have his birthday or christening-
day kept, Charlotte said, he will not ob-
ject to-day to these few ornaments being
expended on a treble festival.
Treble? cried Edward.
Yes, indeed, she replied. Our friends
arrival here we are bound to keep as a festival;
and have you never thought, either of you,
that this is the day on which you were both
christened? Are you not both named Otto?
The two friends shook hands across the
little table.
You bring back to my mind, Edward
said, this little link of our boyish affection.
As children, we were both called so; but
when we came to be at school together it was
the cause of much confusion, and I readily
made over to him all my right to the pretty
laconic name.
Wherein you were not altogether so very
high-minded, said the captain; for I well
remember that the name of Edward had then
begun to please you better, from its attractive
sound when spoken by certain pretty lips.
They were now sitting all three round the
same table where Charlotte had spoken so
vehemently against their guests coming to
them. Edward, happy as he was, did not
wish to remind his wife of that time; but he
could not help saying,
There is good room here for one more
person.
At this moment the notes of a bugle were
heard across from the castle. Full of happy
thoughts and feelings as the friends all were
together, the sound fell in among them with a
strong force of answering harmony. They
listened silently, each for the moment with-
drawing into himself, and feeling doubly
happy in the fair circle of which he formed a
part. The pause was first broken by Edward,
who started up and walked out in front of the
summer-house.
Our friend must not think, he said to
Charlotte, that this narrow little valley forms
the whole of our domain and possessions.
Let us take him up to the top of the hill,
where he can see farther and breathe more
freely.
For this once, then, answered Charlotte,
we must climb up the old footpath, which
is not too easy. By the next time, I hope
my walks and steps will have been carried
right up.
And so, among rocks, and shrubs, and
240


:;;. .Mir
. .<** 'r vr !)','
lisi #SlliSl:
* 'Wy
:: >lit-
bushes, they made their way to the summit,
where they found themselves, not on a level flat,
but on a sloping grassy terrace, running along
the ridge of the hill. The village, with the
castle behind it, was out of sight. At the
bottom of the valley, sheets of water were
seen spreading out right and left, with wooded
hills rising immediately from their opposite
margin, and, at the end of the upper water, a
wall of sharp, precipitous rocks diredlly over-
hanging it, their huge forms reflected in its
level surface. In the hollow of the ravine,
where a considerable brook ran into the lake,
lay a mill, half hidden among the trees, a
sweetly retired spot, most beautifully sur-
rounded ; and through the entire semicircle
over which the view extended ran an endless
variety of hills and valleys, copse and forest,
the early green of which promised the near
approach of a luxuriant clothing of foliage.
In many places particular groups of trees
caught the eye; and especially a cluster of
planes and poplars diredlly at the spectator's
feet, close to the edge of the centre lake.
They were at their full growth, and they stood
561
there, spreading out their boughs
all around them, in fresh and luxu-
riant strength.
To these Edward called his friends
attention.
I myself planted them, he cried,
when I was a boy. They were small trees
which I rescued when my father was laying
out the new part of the great castle garden,
and in the middle of one summer had rooted
them out. This year you will no doubt see
them show their gratitude in a fresh set of
shoots.
They returned to the castle in high spirits,
and mutually pleased with each other. To
the guest was allotted an agreeable and roomy
set of apartments in the right wing of the
castle; and here he rapidly got his books and
papers and instruments in order, to go on with
his usual occupation. But Edward, for the
first few days, gave him no rest. He took him
about everywhere, now on foot, now on horse-
back, making him acquainted with the country
and with the estate; and he embraced the
opportunity of imparting to him the wishes
which he had been long entertaining, of
getting at some better acquaintance with it,
and learning to manage it more profitably.
The first thing we have to do, said the
captain, is to make a magnetic survey of
the property. That is a pleasant and easy
matter; and if it does not admit of entire
exactness, it will be always useful, and will
241


do, at any rate, for an agreeable beginning.
It can be made, too, without any great staff
of assistants, and one can be sure of getting
it completed. If by-and-by you come to re-
quire anything more exaCt, it will be easy then
to find some plan to have it made.
The captain was exceedingly skilful at work
of this kind. He had brought with him
whatever instruments he required, and com-
menced immediately. Edward provided him
with a number of foresters and peasants, who,
with his instruction, were able to render him
all necessary assistance. The weather was
favorable. The evenings and the early morn-
ings were devoted to the designing and draw-
ing, and in a short time it was all filled in
and colored. Edward saw his possessions
grow out like a new creation upon the paper;
and it seemed as if now for the first time he
knew what they were, as if they now first were
properly his own.
Thus there came occasion to speak of the
park, and of the ways of laying it out; a far
better disposition of things being made pos-
sible after a survey of this kind, than could
be arrived at by experimenting on nature, on ,
partial and accidental impressions.
We must make my wife understand this, ;
said Edward.
We must do nothing of the kind, re- ,
plied the captain, who did not like bringing :
his own notions in collision with those of
others. He had learned by experience that !
the motives and purposes by which men are i
influenced are far too various to be made to
coalesce upon a single point, even on the
most solid representations. We must not do
it, he cried; she will be only confused.
With her, as with all people who employ
themselves on such matters merely as amateurs,
the important thing is, rather that she shall
do something, than that something shall be
done. Such persons feel their way with na-
ture. They have fancies for this plan or that;
they do not venture on removing obstacles.
They are not bold enough to make a sacrifice.
They do not know beforehand in what their
work is to result. They try an experiment
it succeedsit fails; they alter it; they alter,
perhaps, what they ought to leave alone, and
leave what they ought to alter; and so, at
last, there always remains but a patchwork,
which pleases and amuses, but never satisfies.
Acknowledge candidly, said Edward,
that you do not like this new work of hers.
The idea is excellent, he replied; if
the execution were equal to it there would be
no fault to find. But she has tormented her-
self to find her way up that rock; and she
now torments everyone, if you must have it,
that she takes up after her. You cannot walk
togetheryou cannot walk behind one another
with any freedom. Every moment your step
is interrupted one way or another. There is
no end to the mistakes which she has made.
Would it have been easy to have done it
otherwise? asked Edward.
Perfectly, replied the captain. She
had only to break away a corner of the rock,
which is now but an unsightly objeCt, made
up as it is of little pieces, and she would at
once have a sweep for her walk and stone in
abundance for the rough masonry work, to
widen it in the bad places, and make it smooth.
But this I tell you in strictest confidence. Her
it would only confuse and annoy. What is
done must remain as it is. If any more money
and labor is to be spent there, there is abund-
ance to do above the summer-house on the
hill, which we can settle our own way.
If the two friends found in their occupation
abundance of present employment, there was
no lack either of entertaining reminiscences
of early times, in which Charlotte took her
part as well. They determined, moreover,
that as soon as their immediate labors were
finished, they would go to work upon the
journal, and in this way, too, reproduce the
past.
For the rest, when Edward and Charlotte
were alone, there were fewer matters of private
interest between them than formerly. This
was especially the case since the fault-finding
about the grounds, which Edward thought so
just, and which he felt to the quick. He held
his tongue about what the captain had said
for a long time; but at last, when he saw his
wife again preparing to go to work above the
summer-house, with her paths and steps, he
could not contain himself any longer, but,
after a few circumlocutions, came out with his
new views.
Charlotte was thoroughly disturbed. She
was sensible enough to perceive at once that
they were right, but there was the difficulty
with what was already done,and what was
made was made. She had liked it; even
what was wrong had become dear to her in its
details. She fought against her convictions;
she defended her little creations; she railed
at men who were forever going to the broad
and the great. They could not let a pastime,
242


they could not let an amusement alone, she I
said, but they must go and make a work out '
of it, never thinking of the expense which :
their larger plans involved. She was pro-
voked, annoyed and angry. Her old plans
she could not give up, the new she would not
quite throw from her; but, divided as she was,
for the present she put a stop to the work, and
gave herself time to think the thing over, and
let it ripen by itself.
At the same time that she lost this source
of active amusement, the others were more
and more together over their own business.
They took to occupying themselves, moreover,
with the flower-garden and the hot-houses;
and as they filled up the intervals with the
ordinary gentlemens amusements, hunting,
riding, buying, selling, breaking horses, and
such matters, she was every day left more and
more to herself. She devoted herself more
assiduously than ever to her correspondence
on account of the captain; and yet she had
many lonely hours; so that the information
which she now received from the school be-
came of more agreeable interest.
To a long-drawn letter of the superior of
the establishment, filled with the usual ex-
pressions of delight at her daughters progress,
a brief postscript was attached, with a second
from the hand of a gentleman in employment
there as an assistant, both of which we here
communicate.
POSTSCRIPT OF THE SUPERIOR.
Of Ottilie, I can only repeat to your
ladyship what I have already stated in my
former letters. I do not know how to find
fault with her, yet I cannot say that I am
satisfied. She is always unassuming, always
ready to oblige others; but it is not pleasing
to see her so timid, so almost servile.
Your ladyship lately sent her some money,
with several little matters for her wardrobe.
The money she has never touched, the dresses
lay unworn in their place. She keeps her
things very nice and very clean; but this is all
she seems to care about. Again, I cannot
praise her excessive abstemiousness in eating
and drinking. There is no extravagance at
our table, but there is nothing that I like better j
than to see the children eat enough of good, j
wholesome food. What is carefully provided |
and set before them ought to be taken; and
to this I never can succeed in bringing Ottilie.
She is always making herself some occupation
or other, always finding something which she
must do, something which the servants have
negledled, to escape the second course or the
dessert; and now it has to be considered
(which I cannot help connecting with all this)
that she frequently suffers, I have lately
learned, from pain in the left side of her
head. It is only at times, but it is distressing,
and may be of importance. So much upon
this otherwise sweet and lovely girl.
SECOND POSTSCRIPT, BY THE ASSISTANT.
Our excellent superior commonly permits
me to read the letters in which she communi-
cates her observations upon her pupils to their
parents and friends. Such of them as are
: addressed to your ladyship I ever read with
twofold attention and pleasure. We have to
: congratulate you upon a daughter who unites
' in herself every brilliant quality with which
j people distinguish themselves in the world;
! and I at least think you no less fortunate in
having had bestowed upon you, in your step-
daughter, a child who has been born for the
good and happiness of others, and assuredly
also for her own. Ottilie is almost our only
pupil about whom there is a difference of
opinion between myself and our reverend
superior. I do not complain of the very
natural desire in that good lady to see out-
ward and definite fruits arising from her
labors. But there are also fruits which are
not outward, which are of the true germinal
sort, and which develop themselves sooner or
later in a beautiful life. And this I am cer-
tain is the case with your protegee. So long
as she has been under my care, I have watched
! her moving with an even step, slowly, steadily
forwardnever back. As with a child it is
necessary to begin everything at the begin-
ning, so it is with her. She can comprehend
nothing which does not follow from what pre-
cedes it; let a thing be as simple and easy as
possible, she can make nothing of it if it is
not in a recognizable connexion; but find
the intermediate links, and make them clear
to her, and then nothing is too difficult for her.
Progressing with such slow steps, she re-
mains behind her companions, who, with
capacities of quite a different kind, hurry on
and on, learn everything readily, connected
or unconne6ted, recollect it with ease, and
apply it with correctness. And again, some
of the lessons here are given by excellent, but
somewhat hasty and impatient teachers, who
pass from result to result, cutting short the
process by which they are arrived at; and
243


these are not of the slightest service to her;
she learns nothing from them. There is a
complaint of her handwriting. They say she
will not, or cannot, understand how to form
her letters. I have examined closely into
this. It is true she writes slowly, stiffly, if
you like; but the hand is neither timid nor
without characler. The French language is
not my department, but I have taught her
something of it, in the step-by-step fashion;
and this she understands easily. Indeed,
it is singular that she knows a great deal,
and knows it well, too; and yet when she
is asked a question, it seems as if she knew
nothing.
'To conclude generally, I should say she
learns nothing like a person who is being
educated,' but she learns like one who is to
educatenot like a pupil, but like a future
teacher. Your ladyship may think it strange
that I, as an educator and a teacher, can find
no higher praise to give to any one than by a
comparison with myself. I may leave it to
your own good sense, to your deep knowledge
of the world and of mankind, to make the
best of my most inadequate, but well-intended
expressions. You may satisfy yourself that
you have much happiness to promise yourself
from this child. I commend myself to your
ladyship, and I beseech you to permit me to
write to you again as soon as I see reason to
believe that I have anything important or
agreeable to communicate.
This letter gave Charlotte great pleasure.
The contents of it coincided very closely with
the notions which she had herself conceived
of Ottilie. At the same time, she could not
help smiling at the excessive interest of the
assistant, which seemed greater than the in-
sight into a pupils excellence usually calls
forth. In her quiet, unprejudiced way of
looking at things, this relation, among others,
she was contented to permit to lie before her
as a possibility; she could value the interest
of so sensible a man in Ottilie, having learned,
among the lessons of her life, to see how
highly true regard is to be prized, in a world
where indifference or dislike are the common
natural residents.
CHAPTER IV.
The topographical chart of the property
and its environs was completed. It was exe-
cuted on a considerable scale; the character
of the particular localities was made intelli-
gible by various colors; and by means of a
trigonometrical survey, the captain had been
able to arrive at a very fair exactness of
measurement. He had been rapid in his
work. There was scarcely ever any one who
could do with less sleep than this most labori-
ous man ; and, as his day was always devoted
to an immediate purpose, every evening some-
thing had been done.
Let us now, he said to his friend, go
on to what remains for us, to the statistics of
the estate. We shall have a good deal of
work to get through at the beginning, and
afterwards we shall come to the farm esti-
mates, and much else which will naturally
arise out of them. Only we must have one
thing distin6lly settled and adhered to.
Everything which is properly business we
must keep carefully separate from life. Busi-
244


ness requires earnestness and method; life
must have a freer handling. Business de-
mands the utmost stringency and sequence;
in life, inconsecutiveness is frequently neces-
sary, indeed, is charming and graceful. If
you are firm in the first, you can afford your-
self more liberty in the second; while if you
mix them, you will find the free interfering
with and breaking in upon the fixed.
In these sentiments Edward felt a slight re-
flection upon himself. Though not naturally
disorderly, he could never bring himself to
arrange his papers in their proper places.
What he had to do in connection with others
was not kept separate from what only de-
pended on himself. Business got mixed up
with amusement, and serious work with re-
creation. Now, however, it was easy for him,
with the help of a friend, who would take the
trouble upon himself; and a second I
worked out the separation, to which the single
I was always unequal.
In the captains wing, they contrived a
depositary for what concerned the present,
and an archive for the past. Here they
brought all the documents, papers, and notes
from their various hiding-places, rooms,
drawers, and boxes, with the utmost speed.
Harmony and order were introduced into
the wilderness, and the different packets were
marked and registered in their several pigeon-
holes. They found all they wanted in greater
completeness even than they had expeCted;
and here an old clerk was found of no slight
service, who for the whole day and part of
the night never left his desk, and with whom,
till then, Edward had been always dissatisfied.
I should not know him again, he said to
his friend, the man is so handy and use-
ful.
That, replied the captain, is because
we give him nothing fresh to do till he has
finished, at his convenience, what he has al-
ready ; and so, as you perceive, he gets through
a great deal. If you disturb him, he be-
comes useless at once.
Spending their days together in this way,
in the evenings they never negleCted their
regular visits to Charlotte. If there was no
party from the neighborhood, as was often
the case, they read and talked, principally on
subjects connected with the improvement of
the condition and comfort of social life.
Charlotte, always accustomed to make the
most of opportunities, not only saw her hus-
band pleased, but found personal advantages
562
for herself. Various domestic arrangements,
which she had long wished to make, but which
she did not know exaCtly how to set about,
were managed for her through the contrivance
of the captain. Her domestic medicine-chest,
hitherto but poorly furnished, was enlarged
and enriched, and Charlotte herself, with the
help of good books and personal instruction,
was put in the way of being able to exercise
her disposition to be of practical assistance
more frequently and more efficiently than be-
fore.
In providing against accidents, which,
though common, yet only too often find us
unprepared, they thought it especially neces-
sary to have at hand whatever is required for
the recovery of drowning menaccidents of
this kind, from the number of canals, reser-
voirs, and waterworks in the neighborhood,
being of frequent occurrence. This depart-
ment the captain took expressly into his own
hands; and the observation escaped Edward,
that a case of this kind had made a very
singular epoch in the life of his friend. The
latter made no reply, but seemed to be trying
to escape from a painful recollection. Ed-
ward immediately stopped; and Charlotte,
who, as well as he, had a general knowledge
of the story, took no notice of the expression.
These preparations are all exceedingly
valuable, said the captain, one evening.
'Now, however, we have not got the one
thing which is most essentiala sensible man
who understands how to manage it all. I
know an army surgeon, whom I could exactly
recommend for the place. You might get
him at this moment, on easy terms. He is
highly distinguished in his profession, and has
frequently done more for me, in the treatment
even of violent inward disorders, than cele-
brated physicians. Help upon the spot, is the
thing you often most want in the country.
He was written for at once; and Edward
and Charlotte were rejoiced to have found so
good and necessary an objeCt, on which to
expend so much of the money which they set
apart for such accidental demands upon them.
Thus Charlotte, too, found means of making
use, for her purposes, of the captains knowl-
edge and practical skill; and she began to be
quite reconciled to his presence, and to feel
easy about any consequences which might
ensue. She commonly prepared questions to
ask him; among other things, it was one of
her anxieties to provide against whatever was
prejudicial to health and comfort, against
245


poisons and such like. The lead-glazing on
the china, the verdigris which formed about
her copper and bronze vessels, etc., had long
been a trouble to her. She got him to tell
her about these, and, naturally, they often had
to fall back on the first elements of medicine
and chemistry.
An accidental, but welcome occasion for
entertainment of this kind, was given by an
inclination of Edward to read aloud. He
had a particularly clear, deep voice, and
earlier in life had earned himself a pleasant
reputation for his feeling and lively recitations
of works of poetry and oratory. At this time
he was occupied with other subjects, and the
books which, for some time past, he had been
reading, were either chemical, or on some
other branch of natural or technical science.
One of his especial peculiaritieswhich,
by-the-by, he very likely shares with a number
of his fellow-creatureswas, that he could
not bear to have anyone looking over him
when he was reading. In early life, when he
used to read poems, plays or stories, this had
been the natural consequence of the desire
which the reader feels, like the poet, or the
adlor, or the story-teller, to make surprises,
to pause, to excite expectation; and this sort
of effedt was naturally defeated when a third
persons eyes could run on before him, and
see what was coming. On such occasions,
therefore, he was accustomed to place himself
in such a position that no one could get be-
hind him. With a party of only three, this
was unnecessary; and as with the present sub-
ject there was no opportunity for exciting
feelings or giving the imagination a surprise,
he did not take any particular pains to protedl
himself.
One evening he had placed himself care-
lessly, and Charlotte happened by accident to
cast her eyes upon the page. His old im-
patience was aroused; he turned to her, and
said, almost unkindly,
I do wish, once for all, you would leave
off doing a thing so out of taste and so dis-
agreeable. When I read aloud to a person,
is it not the same as if I was telling him some-
thing by word of mouth ? The written, the
printed word, is in the place of my own
thoughts, of my own heart. If a window
were broken into my brain or into my heart,
and if the man to whom I am counting out
my thoughts, or delivering my sentiments, one
by one, knew already beforehand exadlly what
was to come out of me, should I take the
trouble to put them into words? When any-
body looks over my book, I always feel as if I
were being torn in two.
Charlottes tael, in whatever circle she
might be, large or small, was remarkable, and
she was able to set aside disagreeable or ex-
cited expressions without appearing to notice
them. When a conversation grew tedious,
she knew how to interrupt it; when it halted,
she could set it going. And this time her
good gift did not forsake her.
I am sure you will forgive me my fault,
she said, when I tell you what it was this
moment which came over me. I heard you
reading something about Affinities, and I
thought diredlly of some relations of mine,
two of whom are just now occupying me a
great deal. Then my attention went back to
the book. I found it was not about living
things at all, and I looked over to get the
thread of it right again.
It was the comparison which led you
wrong and confused you, said Edward.
The subject is nothing but earths and min-
erals. But man is a true Narcissus; he de-
lights to see his own image every where; and
he spreads himself underneath the universe,
like the amalgam behind the glass.
Quite true, continued the captain.
That is the way in which he treats every-
thing external to himself. His wisdom and
his folly, his will and his caprice, he attributes
alike to the animal, the plant, the elements,
and the gods.
Would you, said Charlotte, if it is not
taking you away too much from the imme-
diate subjedl, tell me briefly what is meant
here by Affinities?
I shall be very glad indeed, replied the
captain, to whom Charlotte had addressed
herself. That is, I will tell you as well as I
can. My ideas on the subjedl date ten years
back; whether the scientific world continues
to think the same about it, I cannot tell.
It is most disagreeable, cried Edward,
that one cannot now-a-days learn a thing
once for all, and have done with it. Our
forefathers could keep to what they were
taught when they were young; but we have,
every five years, to make revolutions with
them, if we do not wish to drop altogether out
of fashion.
We women need not be so particular,
said Charlotte; and, to speak the truth, I
only want to know the meaning of the word.
There is nothing more ridiculous in society
246


than to misuse a strange technical word; and
I only wish you to tell me in what sense the
expression is made use of in connection with
these things. What its scientific application
is, I am quite contented to leave to the
learned; who, by-the-by, as far as I have been
able to observe, do not find it easy to agree
among themselves.
'Whereabouts shall we begin, said Ed-
ward, after a pause, to the captain, to come
most quickly to the point?
The latter, after thinking a little while, re-
plied shortly,
You must let me make what will seem
a wide sweep; we shall be on our subjeCt al-
most immediately.
Charlotte settled her work at her side,
promising the fullest attention.
The captain began:
In all natural objects with which we are
acquainted, we observe immediately that they
have a certain relation to themselves. It may
sound ridiculous to be asserting what is ob-
vious to every one; but it is only by coming
to a clear understanding together about what
we know, that we can advance to what we do
not know.
I think, interrupted Edward, we can
make the thing more clear to her, and to our-
selves, with examples; conceive water, or oil,
or quicksilver; among these you will see a
certain oneness, a certain connedtion of their
parts; and this oneness is never lost, except
through force or some other determining
cause. Let the cause cease to operate, and
at once the parts unite again.
Unquestionably, said Charlotte, that
is plain; rain-drops readily unite and form
streams; and when we were children it was
our delight to play with quicksilver, and won-
der at the little globules splitting and parting
and running into one another.
And here, said the captain, let me just
cursorily mention one remarkable thing, I
mean that the full, complete correlation of
parts which the fluid state makes possible,
shows itself distinctly and universally in the
globular form. The falling water-drop is
round; you yourself spoke of the globules of
quicksilver; and a drop of melted lead let
fall, if it has time to harden before it reaches
the ground, is found at the bottom in the
shape of a ball.
Let me try and see, said Charlotte,
whether I can understand where you are
bringing me. As everything has a reference
to itself, so it must have some relation to
others.
And that, interrupted Edward, will be
different according to the natural differences
of the things themselves. Sometimes they
will meet like friends and old acquaintances;
they will come rapidly together, and unite
without either having to alter itself at allas
wine mixes with water. Others, again, will
remain as strangers side by side, and no
amount of mechanical mixing or forcing will
succeed in combining them. Oil and water
may be shaken up together, and the next
moment they are separate again, each by
itself.
One can almost fancy, said Charlotte,
that in these simple forms one sees people
that one is acquainted with; one has met with
just such things in the societies amongst
which one has lived; and the strangest like-
nesses of all with these soulless creatures, are
in the masses in which men stand divided one
against the other, in their classes and pro-
fessions; the nobility and the third estate, for
instance, or soldiers and civilians.
Then again, replied Edward, as these
are united together under common laws and
customs, so there are intermediate members
in our chemical world which will combine
elements that are mutually repulsive.
Oil, for instance, said the captain, we
make combine with water with the help of
alkalies----
Do not go on too fast with your lesson,
! said Charlotte. Let me see that I keep step
with you. Are we not here arrived among the
affinities?
Exadtly, replied the captain; we are
on the point of apprehending them in all their
power and distinctness; such natures as, when
they come in contaCt, at once lay hold of each
other, and mutually affect one another, we
speak of as having an affinity one for the
other. With the alkalies and acids, for in-
stance, the affinities are strikingly marked,
j They are of opposite natures; very likely
! their being of opposite natures is the secret
! of their effect on one anotherthey seek one
: another eagerly out, lay hold of each other,
modify each others character, and form in
connection an entirely new substance. There
is lime, you remember, which shows the
strongest inclination for all sorts of acidsa
distinCt desire of combining with them. As
soon as our chemical chest arrives, we can
show you a number of entertaining experi-
247


ments, which will give you a clearer idea than
words, and names, and technical expres-
sions.
It appears to me, said Charlotte, that
if you choose to call these strange creatures
of yours related, the relationship is not so
much a relationship of blood, as of soul or
of spirit. It is the way in which we see all
really deep friendships arise among men;
opposite peculiarities of disposition being what
best makes internal union possible. But I
will wait to see what you can really show me
of these mysterious proceedings; and for the
present, she added, turning to Edward, I
will promise not to disturb you any more in
your reading. You have taught me enough
of what it is about to enable me to attend
to it.
No, no, replied Edward, nowthat you
have once stirred the thing, you shall not get
off so easily. It is just the most complicated
cases which are the most interesting. In these
you come first to see the degrees of the affini-
ties, to watch them as their power of attrac-
tion is weaker or stronger, nearer or more
remote. Affinities only begin really to interest
when they bring about separations.
What! cried Charlotte, is that miser-
able word, which unhappily we hear so often
now-a-days in the world, is that to be found
in natures lessons too?
Most certainly, answered Edward; the
title with which chemists were supposed to be
most honorably distinguished was, artists of
separation.
It is not so anymore, replied Charlotte;
and it is well that it is not. It is a higher art,
and it is a higher merit, to unite. An artist
of union, is what we should welcome in every
province of the universe. However, as we are
on the subject again, give me an instance or
two of what you mean.
We had better keep, said the captain,
to the same instances of which we have
already been speaking. Thus, what we call
limestone is a more or less pure calcareous
earth in combination with a delicate acid,
which is familiar to us in the form of a gas.
Now, if we place a piece of this stone in di-
luted sulphuric acid, this will take possession
of the lime, and appear with it in the form of
gypsum, the gaseous acid at the same time
going off in vapor. Here is a case of separa-
tion; a combination arises, and we believe
ourselves now justified in applying to it the
words, Elective Affinity; it really looks as
248
if one relation had been deliberately chosen
in preference to another.
Forgive me, said Charlotte, as I for-
give the natural philosopher. I cannot see
any choice in this; I see a natural necessity
rather, and scarcely that. After all, it is per-
haps merely a case of opportunity. Oppor-
tunity makes relations as it makes thieves;
and as long as the talk is only of natural sub-
stances, the choice to me appears to be alto-
gether in the hands of the chemist who brings
the creatures together. Once, however, let
them be brought together, and then God
have mercy on them. In the present case, I
cannot help being sorry for the poor acid gas,
which is driven out up and down infinity
again.
The acids business, answered the cap-
tain, is now to get connedted with water,
and so serve as a mineral fountain for the
refreshing of sound or disordered mankind.
That is very well for the gypsum to say,
said Charlotte. The gypsum is all right, is
a body, is provided for. The other poor,
desolate creature may have trouble enough to
go through before it can find a second home
for itself.
I am much mistaken, said Edward,
smiling, if there be not some little arriere
pensee behind this. Confess your wickedness !
You mean me by your lime ; the lime is laid
hold of by the captain, in the form of sul-
phuric acid, torn away from your agreeable
society, and metamorphosed into a refradtory
gypsum.
If your conscience prompts you to make
such a refledtion, replied Charlotte, I cer-
tainly need not distress myself. These com-
parisons are pleasant and entertaining; and
who is there that does not like playing with
analogies ? But man is raised very many steps
above these elements; and if he has been
somewhat liberal with such fine words as Elec-
tion and Eledtive Affinities, he will do well to
turn back again into himself, and take the
opportunity of considering carefully the value
and meaning of such expressions. Unhappily,
we know cases enough where a connedtion
apparently indissoluble between two persons,
has, by the accidental introdudlion of a third,
been utterly destroyed, and one or the other
of the once happily united pair been driven
out into the wilderness.
Then you see how much more gallant the
chemists are, said Edward. They at once
add a fourth, that neither may go away empty.


artist: p. grotjohann.
CHARLOTTE GLANCING OVER EDWARDS BOOK.


*
Quite so, replied the captain. And
those are the cases which are really most im-
portant and remarkablecases where this
attraction, this affinity, this separating and
combining, can be exhibited, the two pairs
severally crossing each other; where four
creatures, connected previously, as two and
two, are brought into contact, and at once
forsake their first combination to form into a
second. In this forsaking and embracing,
this seeking and flying, we believe that we are
indeed observing the effedts of some higher
determination ; we attribute a sort of will
and choice to such creatures, and feel really
justified in using technical words, and speak-
ing of Eledtive Affinities.
Give me an instance of this, said Char-
lotte.
One should not spoil such things with
words, replied the captain. As I said be-
fore, as soon as I can show you the experiment,
I can make it all intelligible and pleasant for
you. For the present, I can give you nothing
but horrible scientific expressions, which at
the same time will give you no idea about the
matter. You ought yourself to see these
creatures, which seem so dead, and which are
yet so full of inward energy and force, at
work before your eyes. You should observe
them with a real personal interest. Now they
seek each other out, attradl each other, seize,
crush, devour, destroy each other, and then
suddenly reappear again out of their combi-
nations, and come forward in fresh, renovated,
unexpedted form; thus you will comprehend
how we attribute to them a sort of immor-
talityhow we speak of them as having sense
and understanding; because we feel our own
senses to be insufficient to observe them ade-
quately, and our reason too weak to follow
them.
I quite agree, said Edward, that the
strange scientific nomenclature, to persons who
have not been reconciled to it by a diredt
acquaintance with or understanding of its
objedt, must seem unpleasant, even ridicu-
lous; but we can easily, just for once, con-
trive with symbols to illustrate what we are
speaking of.
If you do not think it looks pedantic,
answered the captain, I can put my mean-
ing together with letters. Suppose an A con-
nected so closely with a B, that all sorts of
means, even violence, have been made use of
to separate them, without effedt. Then sup-
pose a C in exadtly the same position with
563
respedt to D. Bring the two pairs into con-
tact; A will fling himself on D, C on B,
without its being possible to say which had
first left its first connedtion, or made the first
move towards the second.
Now then, interposed Edward, till we
see all this with our eyes, we will look upon
the formula as an analogy, out of which we
can devise a lesson for immediate use. You
stand for A, Charlotte, and I am your B;
really and truly I cling to you, I depend on
you, and follow you, just as B does with A.
C is obviously the captain, who at present is
in some degree withdrawing me from you.
So now it is only just that if you are not to
be left to solitude, a D should be found for
you, and that is unquestionably the amiable
little lady, Ottilie. You will not hesitate any
longer to send and fetch her.
Good, replied Charlotte; although
the example does not, in my opinion, exadtly
fit our case. However, we have been fortu-
nate, at any rate, in to-day for once having
met all together; and these natural or elective
affinities have served to unite us more inti-
mately. I will tell you, that since this after-
noon I have made up my mind to send for
Ottilie. My faithful housekeeper, on whom I
have hitherto depended for everything, is
going to leave me shortly, to be married. (It
was done at my own suggestion, I believe, to
please me.) What it is which has decided me
about Ottilie, you shall read to me. I will
not look over the pages again. Indeed, the
contents of them are already known to me.
Only read, read!
With these words, she produced a letter,
and handed it to Edward.
CHAPTER V.
LETTER OF THE LADY SUPERIOR.
Your ladyship will forgive the brevity of
my present letter. The public examinations
are but just concluded, and I have to com-
municate to all the parents and guardians the
progress which our pupils have made during
the past year. To you I may well be brief,
having to say much in few words. Your lady-
ships daughter has proved herself first in
every sense of the word. The testimonials
which I inclose, and her own letter, in which
she will detail to you the prizes which she has
won, and the happiness which she feels in her
249


success, will surely please, and I hope delight
you. For myself, it is the less necessary that
I should say much, because I see that there
will soon be no more occasion to keep with us
a young lady so far advanced. I send rny
respects to your ladyship, and in a short time
I shall take the liberty of offering you my
opinion as to what in future may be of most
advantage to her.
My good assistant will tell you about
Ottilie.
LETTER OF THE ASSISTANT.
Our reverend superior leaves it to me to
write to you of Ottilie, partly because, with
her ways of thinking about it, it would be
painful to her to say what has to be said;
partly, because she herself requires some ex-
cusing, which she would rather have done for
her by me.
Knowing, as I did too well, how little
able the good Ottilie was to show out what
lies in her, and what she is capable of, I was
all along afraid of this public examination.
I was the more uneasy, as it was to be of a
kind which does not admit of any especial
preparation; and even if it had been con-
duced as usual, Ottilie never can be prepared
to make a display. The result has only too
entirely justified my anxiety. She has gained
no prize; she is not even amongst those whose
names have been mentioned with approbation.
I need not go into details. In writing, the
letters of the other girls were not so well
formed, but their strokes were far more free.
In arithmetic, they were all quicker than she;
and in the more difficult problems, which she
does the best, there was no examination. In
French, she was outshone and out-talked by
many; and in history she was not ready with
her names and dates. In geography, there
was a want of attention to the political di-
visions; and for what she could do in music
there was neither time nor quiet enough for
her few modest melodies to gain attention.
In drawing she certainly would have gained
the prize; her outlines were clear, and the
execution most careful and full of spirit; un-
happily, she had chosen too large a subjedt,
and it was incomplete.
After the pupils were dismissed, the ex-
aminers consulted together, and we teachers
were partially admitted into the council. I
very soon observed that of Ottilie either no-
thing would be said at all, or if her name was
mentioned, it would be with indifference, if
not absolute disapproval. I hoped to obtain
some favor for her by a candid description of
what she was, and I ventured it with the
greater earnestness, partly because I was only
speaking my real convictions, and partly be-
cause I remembered in my own younger years
finding myself in the same unfortunate case.
I was listened to with attention, but as soon as
I had ended, the presiding examiner said to
me very kindly but laconically, We presume
capabilities: they are to be converted into
accomplishments. This is the aim of all
education. It is what is distinctly intended
by all who have the care of children, and
silently and indistinctly by the children them-
selves. This also is the objeCt of examina-
tions, where teachers and pupils are alike
standing their trial. From what we learn of
you, we may entertain good hopes of the
young lady, and it is to your own credit also
that you have paid so much attention to your
pupils capabilities. If in the coming year
you can develop these into accomplishments,
neither yourself nor your pupil shall fail to
receive your due praise.
I had made up my mind to what must
follow upon all this; but there was something
worse that I had not anticipated, which had
soon to be added to it. Our good superior,
who like a trusty shepherdess could not bear
to have one of her flock lost, or, as was the
case here, to see it undistinguished, after the
examiners were gone could not contain her
displeasure, and said to Ottilie, who was stand-
ing quite quietly by the window, while the
others were exulting over their prizes, Tell
me, for heavens sake, how can a person look
so stupid if she is not so? Ottilie replied,
quite calmly, Forgive me, my dear mother,
I have my headache again to-day, and it is
very painful. Kind and sympathizing as she
generally is, the superior this time answered,
No one can believe that, and turned angrily
away.
Now it is true,no one can believe it,
for Ottilie never alters the expression of her
countenance. I have never even seen her
move her hand to her head when she has been
asleep.
Nor was this all. Your ladyships daugh-
ter, who is at all times sufficiently lively and
impetuous, after her triumph to-day was over-
flowing Avith the violence of her spirits. She
ran from room to room Avith her prizes and
testimonials, and shook them in Ottilies face.
You have come badly off this morning,
250


she cried. Ottilie replied in her calm, quiet
way, This is not the last day of trial. But
you will always remain the last, cried the
other, and ran away.
No one except myself saw that Ottilie was
disturbed. She has a way when she expe-
riences any sharp unpleasant emotion which
she wishes to resist, of showing it in the un-
equal color of her face; the left cheek becomes
for a moment flushed, while the right turns
pale. I perceived this symptom, and I could
not prevent myself from saying something.
I took our superior aside, and spoke seri-
ously to her about it. The excellent lady
acknowledged that she had been wrong.
We considered the whole affair; we talked
it over at great length together, and not to
weary your ladyship, I will tell you at once
the desire with which we concluded,
namely, that you will for a while have
Ottilie with yourself. Our reasons you
will yourself readily perceive. If you con-
sent, I will say more to you on the manner
in which I think she should be treated.
The young lady your daughter we may ex-
pert will soon leave us, and we shall then
with pleasure welcome Ottilie back to us.
One thing more, which another time I
might forget to mention: I have never
seen Ottilie eager for anything, or at least
ask pressingly for anything. But there have
been occasions, however rare, when on the
other hand she has wished to decline things
which have been pressed upon her, and she
does it with a gesture which to those who
have caught its meaning is irresistible. She
raises her hands, presses the palms together,
and draws them against her breast, leaning
her body a little forward at the same time,
and turns such a look upon the person who
is urging her, that he will be glad enough to
cease to ask or wish for anything of her.
If your ladyship ever sees this attitude, as
with your treatment of her it is not likely
that you will, think of me, and spare Ottilie.
Edward read these letters aloud, not with-
out smiles and shakes of the head. Naturally,
too, there were observations made on the per-
sons and on the position of the affair.
Enough! Edward cried at last, it is
decided. She comes. You, my love, are
provided for, and now we can get forward
with our work. It is becoming highly neces-
sary for me to move over to the right wing to
the captain; evenings and mornings are the
time for us best to work together, and then
you, on your side, will have admirable room
for yourself and Ottilie.
Charlotte made no objection, and Edward
sketched out the method in which they should
live. Among other things, he cried, It is
really very polite in this niece to be subje<5l to
a slight pain on the left side of her head. I
have it frequently on the right. If we happen
to be afflicted together, and sit opposite one
another,I leaning on my right elbow, and
she on her left, and our heads on the opposite
sides, resting on our hands,what a pretty
pair of pictures we shall make.
The captain thought that might be danger-
ous. No, no! cried out Edward. Only
do you, my dear friend, take care of the D,
for what will become of B if poor C is taken
away from it?
That, I should have thought, would have
been evident enough, replied Charlotte.
251


And it is, indeed, cried Edward; he
would turn back to his A, to his Alpha and
Omega; and he sprung up and taking Char-
lotte in his arms, pressed her to his breast.
CHAPTER VI.
The carriage which brought Ottilie drove
up to the door. Charlotte went out to re-
ceive her. The dear girl ran to meet her,
threw herself at her feet, and embraced her
knees.
Why such humility? said Charlotte, a
little embarrassed, and endeavoring to raise
her from the ground.
It is not meant for humility, Ottilie
answered, without moving from the position
in which she had placed herself; I am only
thinking of the time when I could not
reach higher than to your knees, and when
I had just learned to know how you loved
me.
She stood up, and Charlotte embraced her
warmly. She was introduced to the gentle-
men, and was at once treated with especial
courtesy as a visitor. Beauty is a welcome
guest everywhere. She appeared attentive
to the conversation, without taking a part
in it.
The next morning Edward said to Char-
lotte, What an agreeable, entertaining girl
she is!
252


Entertaining! answered Charlotte, with a J
smile; why, she has not opened her lips yet!
Indeed! said Edward, as he seemed to
bethink himself; that is very strange.
Charlotte had to give the new-comer but
a very few hints on the management of the
household. Ottilie saw rapidly all the arrange-
ments, and what was more, she felt them.
She comprehended easily what was to be pro-
vided for the whole party, and what for each
particular member of it. Everything was
done with the utmost punctuality; she knew
how to direCt, without appearing to be giving
orders, and when anyone had left anything
undone, she at once set it right herself.
As soon as she had found how much time
she would have to spare, she begged Charlotte
to divide her hours for her, and to these she
adhered exaCtly. She worked at what was set
before her in the way which the assistant had
described to Charlotte. They let her alone.
It was but seldom that Charlotte interfered.
Sometimes she changed her pens for others
which had been written with, to teach her to
make bolder strokes in her handwriting, but
these, she found, would be soon cut sharp and
fine again.
The ladies had agreed with one another
when they were alone to speak nothing but
French, and Charlotte persisted in it the more,
as she found Ottilie more ready to talk in a
foreign language, when she was told it was her
duty to exercise herself in it. In this way she
often said more than she seemed to intend.
Charlotte was particularly pleased with a de-
scription, most complete, but at the same
time most charming and amiable, which she
gave her one day, by accident, of the school.
She soon felt her to be a delightful companion,
and before long she hoped to find in her an
attached friend.
At the same time she looked over again the
more early accounts which had been sent her
of Ottilie, to refresh her recolledlion with the
opinion which the superior and the assistant
had formed about her, and compare them with
her in her own person. For Charlotte was of
opinion that we cannot too quickly become
acquainted with the character of those with
whom we have to live, that we may know
what to expe<5t of them; where we may hope
to do anything in the way of improvement
with them, and what we must make up our
minds, once for all, to tolerate and let alone.
This examination led her to nothing new,
indeed; but much which she already knew
became of greater meaning and importance.
Ottilies moderation in eating and drinking,
for instance, became a real distress to her.
The next thing on which the ladies were
employed was Ottilies toilet. Charlotte
wished her to appear in clothes of a richer
and more recherche sort, and at once the
clever a6tive girl herself cut out the stuff
which had been previously sent to her, and
with a very little assistance from others was
able, in a short time, to dress herself out most
tastefully. The new fashionable dresses set
off her figure. An agreeable person, it is
true, will show through all disguises; but we
always fancy it looks fresher and more graceful
when its peculiarities appear under some new
drapery. And thus, from the moment of her
first appearance, she became more and more
a delight to the eyes of all who beheld her.
As the emerald refreshes the sight with its
beautiful hues, and exerts, it is said, a benefi-
cent influence on that noble sense, so does
human beauty work with a far larger potency
on the outward and on the inward sense;
whoever looks upon it is charmed against the
breath of evil, and feels in harmony with him-
self and with the world.
In many ways, therefore, the party had
gained by Ottilies arrival. The captain and
Edward kept regularly to the hours, even to
the minutes, for their general meeting to-
gether. They never kept the others waiting
for them either for dinner or tea, or for their
walks; and they were in less haste, especially
in the evenings, to leave the table. This
did not escape Charlottes observation; she
watched them both, to see whether one more
than the other was the occasion of it. But
she could not perceive any difference. They
had both become more companionable. In
their conversation they seemed to consider
what was best adapted to interest Ottilie;
what was most on a level with her capacities
and her general knowledge. If she left the
room when they were reading or telling stories,
they would wait till she returned. They had
grown softer and altogether more united.
In return for this, Ottilies anxiety to be of
use increased every day; the more she came
to understand the house, its inmates, and their
circumstances, the more eagerly she entered
into everything, caught every look and every
motion; half a word, a sound, was enough
for her. With her calm attentiveness, and
her easy, unexcited activity, she was always
the same. Sitting, rising up, going, coming,
564
253


fetching, carrying, returning to her place
again, it was all in the most perfect repose; a
constant change, a constant agreeable move-
ment ; while, at the same time, she went about
so lightly that her step was almost inaudible.
This cheerful obligingness in Ottilie gave
Charlotte the greatest pleasure. There was
one thing, however, which she did not ex-
actly like, of which she had to speak to her.
It is very polite in you, she said one day
toiler, when people let anything fall from
their hand, to be so quick in stooping and
picking it up for them; at the same time, it is
a sort of confession that they have a right to
require such attention, and in the world we
are expecled to be careful to whom we pay it.
Towards women, I will not prescribe any rule
as to how you should conduCt yourself. You
are young. To those above you, and older
than you, services of this sort are a duty; to-
wards your equals they are polite; to those
younger than yourself and your inferiors you
may show yourself kind and good-natured by
such things,only it is not becoming in a
young lady to do them for men.
I will try to forget the habit, replied
Ottilie; I think, however, you will in the
meantime forgive me for my want of manners,
when I tell you how I came by it. We were
taught history at school; I have not gained
as much out of it as I ought, for I never knew
what use I was to make of it; a few little
things, however, made a deep impression upon
me, among which was the following:When
Charles the First of England was standing
before his so-called judges, the gold top came
off the stick which he had in his hand, and
fell down. Accustomed as he had been on
such occasions to have everything done for
him, he seemed to look round and expeCl that
this time too some one would do him this
little service. No one stirred, and he stooped
down for it himself. It struck me as so pite-
ous, that from that moment I have never been
able to see any one let a thing fall, without
myself picking it up. But, of course, as it is
not always proper, and as I cannot, she con-
tinued, smiling, tell my story every time I
do it, in future I will try and contain myself.
In the meantime the fine arrangements
which the two friends had been led to make
for themselves, went uninterruptedly forward.
Every day they found something new to think
about and undertake.
One day as they were walking together
through the village, they had to remark with
I dissatisfaction how far behindhand it was in
order and cleanliness, compared to villages
where the inhabitants were compelled by the
expense of building-ground to be careful
about such things.
You remember a wish we once expressed
when we were travelling in Switzerland to-
gether, said the captain, that we might
have the laying out some country park, and
how beautiful we would make it by intro-
ducing into some village situated like this,
not the Swiss style of building, but the Swiss
order and neatness which so much improve it.
And how well it would answer here The
hill on which the castle stands, slopes down
to that projecting angle. The village, you
see, is built in a semicircle, regularly enough,
just opposite to it. The brook runs between.
It is liable to floods; and do observe the way
the people set about protecting themselves
from them; one with stones, another with
stakes; the next puts up a boarding, and a
fourth tries beams and planks; no one, of
course, doing any.good to another with his
arrangement, but only hurting himself and the
rest too. And then there is the road going
along just in the clumsiest way possible,up
hill and down, through the water, and over
the stones. If the people would only lay their
hands to the business together, it would cost
them nothing but a little labor to run a semi-
circular wall along here, take the road in be-
hind it, raising it to the level of the houses,
and so give themselves a fair open space in
front, making the whole place clean, and get-
ting rid, once for all, in one good general
work, of all their little trifling ineffectual
makeshifts.
Let us try it, said the captain, as he ran
his eyes over the lay of the ground, and saw
quickly what was to be done.
I can undertake nothing in company with
peasants and shopkeepers, replied Edward,
unless I may have unrestricted authority
over them.
You are not so wrong in that, returned
the captain; I have experienced too much
trouble myself in life in matters of that kind.
How difficult it is to prevail on a man to ven-
ture boldly on making a sacrifice for an after-
advantage How hard to get him to desire
an end, and not hesitate at the means! So
many people confuse means with ends; they
keep hanging over the first, without having the
other before their eyes. Every evil is to be
cured at the place where it comes to the sur-
254


face, and they will not trouble themselves to
look for the cause which produces it, or the
remote effeCt which results from it. This is
why it is so difficult to get advice listened to,
especially among the many: they can see
clearly enough from day to day, but their
scope seldom reaches beyond the morrow;
and if it comes to a point where with some
general arrangement one person will gain
while another will lose, there is no prevailing
on them to strike a balance. Works of pub-
lic advantage can only be carried through by
an uncontrolled absolute authority.
While they were standing and talking, a
man came up and begged of them. He
looked more impudent than really in want,
and Edward, who was annoyed at being inter-
rupted, after two or three fruitless attempts to
get rid of him by a gentler refusal, spoke
sharply to him. The fellow began to grumble
and mutter abusively; he went off with short
steps, talking about the right of beggars. It
was all very well to refuse them an alms, but
that was no reason why they should be in-
sulted. A beggar, and everybody else too,
was as much under Gods protection as a lord.
It put Edward out of all patience.
The saptain, to pacify him, said, Let us
make use of this as an occasion for extending
our rural police arrangements to such cases.
We are bound to give away money, but we do
better in not giving it in person, especially at
home. We should be moderate and uniform
in everything, in our charities as in all else;
too great liberality attracts beggars instead of
helping them on their way. At the same
time there is no harm when one is on a
journey, or passing through a strange place,
in appearing to a poor man in the street in
the form of a chance deity of fortune, and
making him some present which shall surprise
him. The position of the village and of the
castle makes it easy for us to put our charities
here on a proper footing. I have thought
about it before. The public-house is at one
end of the village, a respectable old couple
i live at the other. At each of these places de-
posit a small sum of money, and let every
beggar, not as he comes in, but as he goes
out, receive something. Both houses lie on
the roads which lead to the castle, so that any
one who goes there can be referred to one or
the other.
Come, said Edward, we will settle
that on the spot. The exaCt sum can be
made up another time.
They went to the innkeeper, and to the old
couple, and the thing was done.
I know very well, Edward said, as they
were walking up the hill to the castle together,
that everything in this world depends on
distinctness of idea and firmness of purpose.
Your judgment of what my wife has been
doing in the park was entirely right; and you
have already given me a hint how it might be
improved. I will not deny that I told her
of it.
So I have been led to suspeCt, replied
the captain; and I could not approve of
your having done so. You have perplexed
her. She has left olf doing anything; and
on this one subject she is vexed with us. She
avoids speaking of it. She has never since
invited us to go with her to the summer-house,
although at odd hours she goes up there with
Ottilie.
We must not allow ourselves to be de-
terred by that, answered Edward. If I
am once convinced about anything good,
which could and should be done, I can never
rest till I see it done. We are clever enough
at other times in introducing what we want
into the general conversation; suppose we
have out some descriptions of English parks,
with copper-plates, for our evenings amuse-
ment. Then we can follow with your plan.
We will treat it first problematically, and as
if we were only in jest. There will be no
difficulty in passing into earnest.
The scheme was concerted, and the books
were opened. In each group of designs they
first saw a ground-plan of the spot, with the
general character of the landscape, drawn in
its rude, natural state. Then followed others,
showing the changes which had been pro-
duced by art, to employ and set off the natural
advantages of the locality. From these to
their own property and their own grounds,
the transition was easy.
Everybody was pleased. The chart which
the captain had sketched was brought and
spread out. The only difficulty was, that
they could not entirely free themselves of the
plan in which Charlotte had begun. How-
ever, an easier way up the hill was found; a
lodge was suggested to be built on the height
at the edge of the cliff, which was to have an
especial reference to the castle. It was to
form a conspicuous objeCt from the castle
windows, and from it the spectator was to be
able to overlook both the castle and the
garden.
255


The captain had thought it all carefully j
over, and taken his measurements; and now j
he brought up again the village road and the
wall by the brook, and the ground which was
to be raised behind it.
Here you see, said he, while I make
this charming walk up the height, I gain ex-
actly the quantity of stone which I require
for that wall. Let one piece of work help the
other, and both will be carried out most satis-
factorily and most rapidly.
But now, said Charlotte, comes my
side of the business. A certain definite out-
lay of money will have to be made. We
ought to know how much will be wanted for
such a purpose, and then we can apportion it
outso much work, and so much money, if
not by weeks, at least by months. The cash-
box is under my charge. I pay the bills, and
I keep the accounts.
You do not appear to have overmuch
confidence in us, said Edward.
I have not much in arbitrary matters,
Charlotte answered. Where it is a case of
inclination, we women know better how to
control ourselves than you.
It was settled ; the dispositions were made,
and the work was begun at once.
The captain being always on the spot, Char-
lotte was almost daily a witness to the strength j
and clearness of his understanding. He, too, j
learned to know her better; and it became :
easy for them both to work together, and thus
bring something to completeness. It is with
work as with dancing; persons who keep the
same step must grow indispensable to one
another. Out of this a mutual kindly feeling
will necessarily arise; and that Charlotte had
a real kind feeling towards the captain, after
she came to know him better, was sufficiently
proved by her allowing him to destroy her
pretty seat, which in her first plans she had
taken such pains in ornamenting, because it
was in the way of his own, without experi-
encing the slightest feeling about the matter.
CHAPTER VII.
It was a natural consequence now that
Charlotte was occupied with the captain, that
Edward should attach himself more to Ottilie.
Independently of this, indeed, for some time
past he had begun to feel a silent kind of at-
traction towards her. Obliging and attentive
256
she was to everyone, but his self-love whispered
that towards him she was particularly so. She
had observed his little fancies about his food.
She knew exactly what things he liked, and
the way in which he liked them to be pre-
pared; the quantity of sugar which he liked
in his tea; and so on. Moreover, she was par-
ticularly careful to prevent draughts, about
which he was excessively sensitive, and, in-
deed, about which, with his wife, who could
never have air enough, he was often at vari-
ance. So, too, she had come to know about
fruit-gardens and flower-gardens; whatever he
liked, it was her constant effort to procure for
him, and to keep away whatever annoyed him;
so that very soon she grew indispensable to
himshe became like his guardian angel, and
he felt it keenly whenever she was absent.
Besides all this, too, she appeared to grow
more open and conversible as soon as they
were alone together.
Edward, as he advanced in life, had re-
tained something childish about himself, which
corresponded singularly well with the youth-
j fulness of Ottilie. They liked talking of
j early times, when they had first seen each
| other; and these reminiscences led them up
to the first epoch of Edwards affeClion for
Charlotte. Ottilie declared that she remem-
bered them both as the handsomest pair about
the court; and when Edward would question
the possibility of this, when she must have
been so exceedingly young, she insisted that
she recolledled one particular incident as
clearly as possible. He had come into the
room where her aunt was, and she had hid her
face in Charlottes lapnot from fear, but
from a childish surprise. She might have
added, because he had made so strong an im-
pression upon herbecause she had liked him
so much.
While they were occupied in this way, much
of the business which the two friends had
undertaken together had come to a standstill;
so that they found it necessary to inspect how
things were going onto work up a few de-
signs and get letters written. For this pur-
pose, they betook themselves to their office,
where they found their old copyist at his desk.
They set themselves to their work, and soon
gave the old man enough to do, without ob-
1 serving that they were laying many things on
j his shoulders which at other times they had
I always done for themselves. At the same
| time, the first design the captain tried would
I not answer, and Edward was as unsuccessful


EDWARD ASSISTING OTTILIE.


with his first letter. They fretted for a while,
planning and erasing, till at last Edward, who
was getting on the worst, asked what oclock
it was. And then it appeared that the cap-
tain had forgotten, for the first time for many
years, to wind up his chronometer; and they
seemed, if not to feel, at least to have a dim
perception, that time was beginning to be
indifferent to them.
In the meanwhile, as the gentlemen were
thus rather slackening in their energy, the ac-
tivity of the ladies increased all the more.
The every-day life of a family, which is com-
posed of given persons, and is shaped out of
necessary circumstances, may easily receive
into itself an extraordinary affeCtion, an incip-
ient passionmay receive it into itself as into
a vessel; and a long time may elapse be-
fore the new ingredient produces a visible
effervescence, and runs foaming over the edge.
With our friends, the feelings which were
mutually arising had the most agreeable effeCts.
Their dispositions opened out, and a general
goodwill arose out of the several individual
affections. Every member of the party was
happy; and they each shared their happiness
with the rest.
Such a temper elevates the spirit, while it
enlarges the heart, and everything which,
under the influence of it, people do and
undertake, has a tendency towards the illimit-
able. The friends could not remain any more
shut up at home; their walks extended them-
selves farther and farther. Edward would
hurry on before with Ottilie, to choose the
path or pioneer the way; and the captain and
Charlotte would follow quietly on the track of
their more hasty precursors, talking on some
grave subject, or delighting themselves with
some spot they had newly discovered, or some
unexpected natural beauty.
One day their walk led them down from the
gate at the right wing of the castle, in the di-
rection of the hotel, and thence over the
bridge towards the ponds, along the sides of
which they proceeded as far as it was generally
thought possible to follow the water; thickly
wooded hills sloping direCtly up from the edge,
and beyond these a wall of steep rocks, mak-
ing further progress difficult, if not impossi-
ble. But Edward, whose hunting experience
had made him thoroughly familiar with the
spot, pushed forward along an overgrown path
with Ottilie, knowing well that the old mill
could not be far off, which was somewhere in
the middle of the rocks there. The path was
so little frequented, that they soon lost it;
and for a short time they were wandering
among mossy stones and thickets ; it was not
for long, however: the noise of the water-
wheel speedily telling them that the place
which they were looking for was close at hand.
Stepping forward on a point of rock, they saw
the strange old, dark wooden building in the
hollow before them, quite shadowed over with
precipitous crags and huge trees. They de-
termined direCtly to climb down amidst the
moss and the blocks of stone. Edward led
the way; and when he looked back and saw
Ottilie following, stepping lightly, without
fear or nervousness, from stone to stone, so
beautifully balancing herself, he fancied he
was looking at some celestial creature floating
above him; while if, as she often did, she
caught the hand which in some difficult spot
he would offer her, or if she supported herself
on his shoulder, then he was left in no doubt
that it was a very exquisite human creature
who touched him. He almost wished that she
might slip or stumble, that he might catch her
in his arms and press her to his heart. This,
however, he would under no circumstances
have done, for more than one reason. He
was afraid to wound her, and he was afraid to
do her some bodily injury.
What the meaning of this could be, we
shall immediately learn. When they had got
down, and were seated opposite each other at
a table under the trees, and when the millers
wife had gone for milk, and the miller, who
had come out to them, was sent to meet
Charlotte and the captain, Edward, with a
little embarrassment, began to speak:
'I have a request to make, dear Ottilie;
you will forgive me for asking it, if you will
not grant it. You make no secret (I am sure
you need not make any), that you wear a
miniature under your dress against your breast.
It is the picture of your noble father. You
could hardly have known him; but in every
sense he deserves a place by your heart.
Only, forgive me, the picture is exceedingly
large, and the metal frame and the glass, if
you take up a child in your arms, if you are
carrying anything, if the carriage swings vio-
lently, if we are pushing through bushes, or
just now, as we were coming down these
rocks,cause me a thousand anxieties for you.
Any unforeseen blow, a fall, a touch, may be
fatally injurious to you; and I am terrified at
the possibility of it. For my sake do this:
put away the picture, not out of your affec-
56$
257


tions, not out of your room; let it have the
brightest, the holiest place which you can give
it; only do not wear upon your breast a thing,
the presence of which seems to me, perhaps
from an extravagant anxiety, so dangerous.
Ottilie said nothing, and while he was
speaking she kept her eyes fixed straight be-
fore her; then, without hesitation and without
haste, with a look turned more towards heaven
than on Edward, she unclasped the chain,
drew out the picture, and pressed it against
her forehead, and then reached it over to her
friend, with the words:
Do you keep it for me till we come home;
I cannot give you a better proof how deeply
I thank you for your affe<5lionate care.
He did not venture to press the pidlure to
his lips; but he caught her hand and raised it
to his eyes. They were, perhaps, two of the
most beautiful hands which had ever been
clasped together. He felt as if a stone had
fallen from his heart, as if a partition-wall
had been thrown down between him and
Ottilie.
Under the millers guidance, Charlotte and
the captain came down by an easier path, and
now joined them. There was the meeting,
and a happy talk, and then they took some
refreshments. They would not return by the
same way as they came; and Edward struck
into a rocky path on the other side of the
stream, from which the ponds were again to
be seen. They made their way along it, with
some effort, and then had to cross a variety of
wood and copsegetting glimpses, on the
land side, of a number of villages and manor-
houses, with their green lawns and fruit-gar-
dens; while very near them, and sweetly-
situated on a rising ground, a farm lay in the
middle of the Avood. From a gentle ascent,
they had a view, before and behind, Avhich
showed them the richness of the country to
the greatest advantage; and then, entering a
grove of trees, they found themselves, on
again emerging from it, on the rock opposite
the castle.
They came upon it rather unexpectedly,
and were of course delighted. They had
made the circuit of a little world ; they were
standing on the spot where the new building
Avas to be ereCted, and Avere looking again at
the AvindoAvs of their own home.
They Avent doAvn to the summer-house, and
sat all four in it for the first time together;
nothing Avas more natural than that Avith one
voice it should be proposed to have the Avay
they had been that day, and Avhich, as it Avas,
had taken them much time and trouble, prop-
erly laid out and gravelled, so that people
might loiter along it at their leisure. They
each said Avhat they thought; and they reck-
oned up that the circuit, over Avhich they had
taken many hours, might be travelled easily
Avith a good road all the Avay round to the
castle, in a single one.
Already a plan Avas being suggested for
making the distance shorter, and adding a
fresh beauty to the landscape, by throAving a
bridge across the stream, below the mill,
Avhere it ran into the lake; Avhen Charlotte
brought their inventive imagination somewhat
to a stand-still, by putting them in mind of
the expense Avhich such an undertaking Avould
involve.
There are Avays of meeting that too, re-
plied EdAvard ; we have only to dispose of
that farm in the forest Avhich is so pleasantly
situated, and Avhich brings in so little in the
Avay of rent: the sum Avhich Avill be set free
Avill more than cover Avhat Ave shall require,
and thus, having gained an invaluable Avalk,
Ave shall receive the interest of Avell-expended
capital in substantial enjoymentinstead of,
as noAV, in the summing up at the end of the
year, vexing and fretting ourselves over the
pitiful little income Avhich is returned for it.
Even Charlotte, with all her prudence, had
little to urge against this. There had been,
indeed, a previous intention of selling the
farm. The captain Avas ready immediately
Avith a plan for breaking up the ground into
small portions among the peasantry of the
forest. EdAvard, liOAvever, had a simpler and
shorter Avay of managing it. His present
steAvard had already proposed to take it off
his handshe Avas to pay for it by instalments
and so, gradually, as the money came in,
they Avould get their Avork fonvard from point
to point.
So reasonable and prudent a scheme Avas
sure of universal approbation, and already, in
prospeCl, they began to see their neAv Avalk
Avinding along its Avay, and to imagine the
many beautiful vieAvs and charming spots
Avhich they hoped to discover in its neighbor-
hood.
To bring it all before themselves Avith
greater fulness of detail, in the evening they
produced the neAv chart. With the help of
this they Avent over again the Avay that they
had come, and found various places Avhere the
Avalk might take a rather different direction
258


with advantage. Their other scheme was now
once more talked through, and connected
with the fresh design. The site for the new !
house in the park, opposite the castle, was a
second time examined into and approved, and j
fixed upon for the termination of the intended j
circuit.
Ottilie had said nothing all this time. At
length Edward pushed the chart, which had
hitherto been lying before Charlotte, across
to her, begging her to give her opinion;
she still hesitated for a moment. Edward
in his gentlest way again pressed her to
let them know what she thoughtnothing
had as yet been settledit was all as yet in
embryo.
I would have the house built here, she
said, as she pointed with her finger to the
highest point of the slope on the hill. It
is true you cannot see the castle from thence,
for it is hidden by the wood; but for that very
reason you find yourselves in another quite
new world; you lose village and houses and
all at the same time. The view of the ponds
with the mill, and the hills and mountains in
the distance, is singularly beautifulI have
often observed it when I have been there.
She is right, Edward cried; how
could we have overlooked it. This is what
you mean, Ottilie, is it not? He took a
lead pencil, and drew a great black rectangu-
lar figure on the summit of the hill.
It went through the captains soul to see
his carefully and clearly-drawn chart disfigured
in such a way. He collected himself, how-
ever, after a slight expression of his disap-
proval, and went into the idea. Ottilie is
right, he said; we are ready enough to
walk any distance to drink tea or eat fish, be-
cause they would not have tasted as well at
homewe require change of scene and change
of objeCts. Your ancestors showed their judg-
ment in the spot which they chose for the
castle; for it is sheltered from the wind, with
the conveniences of life close at hand. A
place, on the contrary, which is more for
pleasure parties than for a regular residence,
may be very well yonder there, and in the
fair time of year the most agreeable hours
may be spent there.
The more they talked it over, the more
conclusive was their judgment in favor of
Ottilie; and Edward could not conceal his
triumph that the thought had been hers. He
was as proud as if he had hit upon it him-
self.
CHAPTER VIII.
Early the following morning the captain
examined the spot: he first threw off a sketch
j of what should be done, and afterwards, when
j the thing had been more completely decided
on, he made a complete design, with accurate
calculations and measurements. It cost him
a good deal of labor, and the business con-
nected with the sale of the farm had to be
gone into, so that both the gentlemen now
found a fresh impulse to activity.
The captain made Edward observe that it
would be proper, indeed that it would be a
kind of duty, to celebrate Charlottes birth-
day with laying the foundation-stone. Not
much was wanted to overcome Edwards dis-
inclination for such festivitiesfor he quickly
recollected that a little later Ottilies birthday
would follow, and that he could have a mag-
nificent celebration for that.
Charlotte, to whom all this work and what
it would involve was a subject for much serious
and almost anxious thought, busied herself in
carefully going through the time and outlay
which it was calculated would be expended
on it. During the day they rarely saw each
other, so that the evening meeting was looked
forward to with all the more anxiety.
Ottilie meantime was complete mistress of
the householdand how could it be otherwise,
with her quick methodical ways of working?
Indeed, her whole mode of thought was suited
better to home-life than to the world, and to
a more free existence. Edward soon observed
that she only walked about with them out of a
desire to please; that when she stayed out late
with them in the evening it was because she
thought it a sort of social duty, and that she
would often find a pretext in some household
matter for going in againconsequently he
soon managed so to arrange the walks which
they took together, that they should be at
home before sunset; and he began again,
what he had long left off, to read aloud
poetryparticularly such as had for its sub-
ject the expression of a pure but passionate
love.
They ordinarily sat in the evening in the
same places round a small tableCharlotte
on the sofa, Ottilie on a chair opposite to her,
and the gentlemen on each side. Ottilies
place was on Edwards right, the side where
he put the candle when he was readingat
such times she would draw her chair a little
nearer to look over him, for Ottilie also trusted
259


her own eyes better than another persons lips,
and Edward would then always make a move
towards her, that it might be as easy as pos-
sible for herindeed he would frequently
make longer stops than necessary, that he
might not turn over before she had got to the
bottom of the page.
Charlotte and the captain observed this,
and exchanged many a quiet smile at it; but
they were both taken by surprise at another
symptom, in which Ottilies latent feeling
accidentally displayed itself.
One evening, which had been partly spoiled
for them by a tedious visit, Edward proposed
that they should not separate so earlyhe felt
inclined for musiche would take his flute,
which he had not done for many days past.
Charlotte looked for the sonatas which they
generally played together, and they were not
to be found. Ottilie, with some hesitation,
said that they were in her roomshe had
taken them there to copy them.
And you can, you will, accompany me on
the piano? cried Edward, his eyes sparkling
with pleasure. I think perhaps I can, Ot-
tilie answered. She brought the music and sat
down to the instrument. The others listened,
and were sufficiently surprised to hear how per-
fectly Ottilie had taught herself the piece
but far more surprised were they at the
way in which she contrived to adopt her-
self to Edwards style of playing. Adapt
herself, is not the right expressionChar-
lottes skill and power enabled her, in
order to please her husband, to keep up
with him when he went too fast, and hold
in for him if he hesitated; but Ottilie,
who had several times heard them play the
sonata together, seemed to have learned it
according to the idea in which they ac-
companied each othershe had so com-
pletely made his defects her own, that a
kind of living whole resulted from it,
which did not move indeed according to
exaCt rule, but the effeCt of which was in
the highest degree pleasant and delightful.
The composer himself would have been
pleased to hear his work disfigured in a
manner so charming.
Charlotte and the captain watched this
strange unexpected occurrence in silence,
with the kind of feeling with which we
often observe the aCtions of children
unable exaCtly to approve of them, from
the serious consequences which may follow,
and yet without being able to find fault,
perhaps with a kind of envy. For, in-
deed, the regard of these two for one an-
other was growing also, as well as that of
the othersand it was perhaps only the
more perilous because they were both
stronger, more certain of themselves, and
better able to restrain themselves.
The captain had already begun to feel
that a habit which he could not resist was
threatening to bind him to Charlotte. He
forced himself to stay away at the hour when
she commonly used to be at the works; by
getting up very early in the morning he con-
trived to finish there whatever he had to do,
and went back to the castle to his work in
his own room. The first day or two Char-
lotte thought it was an accidentshe looked
for him in every place where she thought
he could possibly be. Then she thought
260


she understood himand admired him all
the more. j
Avoiding, as the captain now did, being
alone with Charlotte, the more industriously
did he labor to hurry forward the preparations
for keeping her rapidly-approaching birthday
with all splendor. While he was bringing up
the new road from below behind the village,
he made the men, under pretence that he
wanted stones, begin working at the top as
well, and work down, to meet the others; and
he had calculated his arrangements so that the
two should exactly meet on the eve of the
day. The excavations for the new house
were already done ; the rock was blown away
with gunpowder; and a fair foundation-stone-
had been hewn, with a hollow chamber, and
a flat slab adjusted to cover it.
This outward adtivity, these little mysterious
purposes of friendship, prompted by feelings
which more or less they were obliged to re-
press, rather prevented the little party when
together from being as lively as usual. Ed-
ward, who felt that there was a sort of void,
one evening called upon the captain to fetch
his violinCharlotte should play the piano,
and he should accompany her. The captain
was unable to refuse the general request, and
they executed together one of the most diffi-
cult pieces of music with an ease and freedom
and feeling, which could not but afford them-
selves, and the two who were listening to
them, the greatest delight. They promised
themselves a frequent repetition of it, as well
as further practice together. They do it
better than we, Ottilie, said Edward; we
will admire thembut we can enjoy ourselves
together too.
CHAPTER IX.
The birthday was come, and everything was
ready. The wall was all complete which pro-
tedted the raised village road against the
water, and so was the walk; passing the
church, for short time it followed the path
which had been laid out by Charlotte, and
then winding upwards among the rocks, in-
clined first under the summer-house to the
right, and then, after a wide sweep, passed
back above it to the right again, and so by
degrees out on to the summit.
A large party had assembled for the oc-
casion. They went first to church, where
566
they found the whole congregation collected
| together in their holiday dresses. After ser-
vice, they filed out in order; first the boys,
then the young men, then the old: after
them came the party from the castle, with
their visitors and retinue; and the village
maidens, young girls and women, brought up
the rear.
At the turn of the walk, a raised stone seat
had been contrived, where the captain made
Charlotte and the visitors stop and rest. From
here they could see over the whole distance
from the beginning to the endthe troops of
men who had gone up before them, the file of
women following, and now drawing up to
where they were. It was lovely weather, and
the whole effedt was singularly beautiful.
Charlotte was taken by surprise, she was
touched, and she pressed the captains hand
warmly.
They followed the crowd who had slowly
ascended, and were now forming a circle
round the spot where the future house was to
stand. The lord of the castle, his family and
the principal strangers were now invited to
descend into the vault, where the foundation-
stone, supported on one side, lay ready to be
let down. A well-dressed mason, a trowel in
one hand and a hammer in the other, came
forward, and with much grace spoke an ad-
dress in verse, of which in prose we can give
but an imperfedt rendering.
Three things, he began, are to be
looked to in a buildingthat it stand on the
| right spot; that it be securely founded; that
it be successfully executed. The first is the
business of the master of the househis and
his only. As in the city the prince and the
council alone determine where a building
shall be, so in the country it is the right of
the lord of the soil that he shall say, Here
my dwelling shall stand ; here, and nowhere
else.
Edward and Ottilie were standing opposite
one another, as these words were spoken ; but
they did not venture to look up and exchange
glances.
To the third, the execution, there is
neither art nor handicraft which must not in
some way contribute. But the second, the
founding, is the province of the mason; and,
j boldly to speak it out, it is the head and front
of all the undertakinga solemn thing it is
I and our bidding you descend hither is full of
meaning. You are celebrating your festival
| in the deep of the earth. Here within this
261


small hollow spot, you show us the honor of
appearing as witnesses of our mysterious craft.
Presently we shall lower down this carefully-
hewn stone into its place; and soon these
earth-walls, now ornamented with fair and
worthy persons, will be no more accessible
but will be closed in forever!
This foundation-stone, which with its
angles typifies the just angles of the building,
with the sharpness of its moulding, the regu-
larity of it, and with the truth of its lines to
the horizontal and perpendicular, the up-
rightness and equal height of all the walls, we
might now without more ado let downit
would rest in its place with its own weight.
But even here there shall not fail of lime and
means to bind it. For as human beings who
may be well inclined to each other by nature,
yet hold more firmly together when the law
cements them, so are stones also, whose forms
may already fit together, united far better by
these binding forces. It is not seemly to be
idle among the working, and here you will
not refuse to be our fellow-laborer,with
these words he reached the trowel to Char-
lotte, who threw mortar with it under the
stoneseveral of the others were then desired
to do the same, and then it was at once let
fall. Upon which the hammer was placed
next in Charlottes, and then in the others
hands, to strike three times with it, and con-
clude, in this expression, the wedlock of the
stone with the earth.
The work of the mason, went on the
speaker, now under the free sky as we are,
if it be not done in concealment, yet must
pass into concealmentthe soil will be laid
smoothly in, and thrown over this stone, and
with the walls which we rear into the daylight
we in the end are seldom remembered. The
works of the stone-cutter and the carver re-
main under the eyes; but for us it is not to
complain when the plasterer blots out the last
trace of our hands, and appropriates our work
to himself; when he overlays it, and smooths
it, and colors it.
Not from regard for the opinion of others,
but from respeft for himself, the mason will
be faithful in his calling. There is none who
has more need to feel in himself the con-
sciousness of what he is. When the house is
finished, when the soil is smoothed, and the
surface plastered over, and the outside all
overwrought with ornament, he can even see
in yet through all disguises, and still recognize
those exaCt and careful adjustments, to which
the whole is indebted for its being and for its
persistence.
But as the man who commits some evil
deed has to fear, that, notwithstanding all
precautions, it will one day come to lightso
too must he expeCt who has done some good
thing in secret, that it also, in spite of him-
self, will appear in the day; and therefore we
make this foundation-stone at the same time a
stone of memorial. Here, in these various
hollows which have been hewn into it, many
things are now to be buried, as a witness to
some far-off worldthese metal cases her-
metically sealed contain documents in writing;
matters of various note are engraved on these
plates; in these fair glass bottles we bury the
best old wine, with a note of the year of its
vintage. We have coins too of many kinds,
from the mint of the current year. All this
we have received through the liberality of him
for whom we build. There is space yet re-
maining, if guest or spectator desires to offer
anything to the after-world!
After a slight pause the speaker looked
round ; but, as is commonly the case on such
occasions, no one was prepared; they were all
taken by surprise. At last, a merry-looking
young officer set the example, and said, If
I am to contribute anything which as yet is
not to be found in this treasure-chamber, it
shall be a pair of buttons from my uniform
I dont see why they do not deserve to go
down to posterity! No sooner said than
done, and then a number of persons found
something of the same sort which they could
do; the young ladies did not hesitate to throw
in some of their side hair combssmelling
bottles and other trinkets were not spared.
Only Ottilie hung back; till a kind word from
Edward roused her from the abstraction in
which she was watching the various things
being heaped in. Then she unclasped from
her neck the gold chain on which her fathers
picture had hung, and with a light gentle
hand laid it down on the other jewels. Ed-
ward rather disarranged the proceedings, by
at once, in some haste, having the cover let
fall, and fastened down.
The young mason who had been most aCtive
through all this again took his place as orator,
and went on, We lay down this stone for-
ever, for the establishing the present and the
future possessors of this house. But in that
we bury this treasure together with it, we do
it in the remembrancein this most enduring
ot worksof the perishableness of all human
262


things. We remember that a time may come
when this cover so fast sealed shall again be
lifted : and that can only be when all shall
again be destroyed which as yet we have not
brought into being.
But nownow that at once it may begin
to be, back with our thoughts out of the
futureback into the present. At once, after
the feast which we have this day kept together,
let us on with our labor; let no one of all
those trades which are to work on our foun-
dation, through us keep unwilling holiday.
Let the building rise swiftly to its height, and
out of the windows, which as yet have no ex-
istence, may the master of the house, with his
family and with his guests, look forth with a
glad heart over his broad lands. To him and
to all here present herewith be health and
happiness.
With these words he drained a richly cut
tumbler at a draught, and flung it into the air,
thereby to signify the excess of pleasure by
destroying the vessel which had served for
such a solemn occasion. This time, however,
it fell out otherwise. The glass did not fall
back to the earth, and indeed without a
miracle.
In order to get forward with the buildings,
they had already thrown out the whole of the
soil at the opposite corner; indeed, they had
begun to raise the wall, and for this purpose
had reared a scaffold as high as was absolutely
necessary. On the occasion of the festival,
boards had been laid along the top of this,
and a number of spedtators were allowed to
stand there. It had been meant principally
for the advantage of the workmen themselves.
The glass had flown up there, and had been
caught by one of them, who took it as a sign
of good luck for himself. He waved it round
without letting it out of his hand, and the
letters E and O were to be seen very richly
cut upon it, running one into the other. It
was one of the glasses which had been exe-
cuted for Edward when he was a boy.
The scaffoldings were again deserted, and
the most adtive among the party climbed up
263


to look round them, and could not speak '
enough in praise of the beauty of the pros- i
peX on all sides. How many new discoveries |
does not a person make when on some high I
point he ascends but a single story higher.
Inland many fresh villages came in sight.
The line of the river could be traced like a
thread of silver; indeed, one of the party
thought that he distinguished the spires of the
capital. On the other side, behind the wooded |
hill, the blue peaks of the far-off mountains ,
were seen rising, and the country immediately j
about them was spread out like a map. i
If the three ponds, cried some one, i
were but thrown together to make a single |
sheet of water, there would be everything
here which is noblest and most excellent.
That might easily be effected, the cap-
tain said. In early times they must have
formed all one lake among the hills here.
Only I must beseech you to spare my
clump of planes and poplars that stand so
prettily by the centre pond, said Edward.
See,he turned to Ottilie, bringing her a
few steps forward, and pointing down,
those trees I planted myself.
How long have they been standing there ?
asked Ottilie.
Just about as long as you have been in
the world, replied Edward. Yes, my dear
child, I planted them when you were still
lying in your cradle.
The party now betook themselves back to
the castle. After dinner was over they were
invited to walk through the village to take a
glance at what had been done there as well.
At a hint from the captain, the inhabitants
had collected in front of the houses. They
were not standing in rows, but formed in
natural family groups, partly occupied at
their evening work, part out enjoying them-
selves on the new benches. They had de-
termined, as an agreeable duty which they
imposed upon themselves, to have everything
in its present order and cleanliness, at least
every Sunday and holiday.
A little party, held together by such feel-
ings as had grown up among our friends, is
always unpleasantly interrupted by a large
concourse of people. All four were delighted
to find themselves again alone in the large
drawing-room, but this sense of home was a
little disturbed by a letter which was brought
to Edward, giving notice of fresh guests who
were to arrive the following day.
It is as we supposed, Edward cried to
Charlotte. The countwill not stay away;
he is coming to-morrow.
Then the baroness, too, is not far off,
answered Charlotte.
Doubtless not, said Edward. She is
coming, too, to-morrow, from another place.
They only beg to be allowed to stay for a
night; the next day they will go on to-
gether.
We must prepare for them in time,
Ottilie, said Charlotte.
What arrangement shall I desire to be
made? Ottilie asked.
Charlotte gave a general direXion, and
Ottilie left the room.
The captain inquired into the relation in
which these two persons stood towards one
another, and with which he was only very
generally acquainted. They had some time
before, both being already married, fallen
violently in love with one another; a double
marriage was not to be interfered with with-
out attraXing attention. A divorce was pro-
posed. On the baroness side it could be
effeXed, on that of the count it could not.
They were obliged seemingly to separate, but
their position towards one another remained
unchanged, and though in the winter at the
residence they were unable to be together,
they indemnified themselves in the summer,
while making tours and staying at watering-
places.
They were both slightly older than Edward
and Charlotte, and had been intimate with
them from early times at court. The con-
nexion had never been absolutely broken off,
although it was impossible to approve of their
proceedings. On the present occasion their
coming was most unwelcome to Charlotte;
and if she had looked closely into her reasons
for feeling it so, she would have found it was
on account of Ottilie. The poor innocent
girl should not have been brought so early in
contaX with such an example.
It would have been more convenient if
they had not come till a couple of days later,
Edward was saying, as Ottilie re-entered; till
we had finished with this business of the farm.
The deed of sale is complete. One copy of
it I have here, but we want a second, and our
old clerk has fallen ill. The captain offered
his services, and so did Charlotte, but there
was something or other to objeX to both of
them.
Give it to me, cried Ottilie, a little
hastily.
264


Fr. Tccht (Id/
PUBLISHED BY GEORGE BARRIE .
sculp.


You will never be able to finish it, said
Charlotte.
And really I must have it early the day
after to-morrow, and it is long, Edward
added.
It shall be ready, Ottilie cried; and the
paper was already in her hands.
The next morning, as they were looking out
from their highest windows for their visitors,
whom they intended to go some way and
meet, Edward said, Who is that yonder,
riding slowly along the road?
The captain described accurately the figure
of the horseman.
How are you able to find time enough?
asked Edward, with a laugh.
My visit, if you can value it, you owe to
an observation which I made yesterday. I
was spending a right happy afternoon in a
house where I had established peace, and then
I heard that a birthday was being kept here.
Now this is what I call selfish, after all, said I
to myself: you will only enjoy yourself with
those whose broken peace you have mended,
j Why cannot you for once go and be happy with
| friends who keep the peace for themselves?
I No sooner said than done. Here I am, as I
| determined with myself that I would be.
Then it is he, said Edward; the par-
ticulars, which you can see better than I, agree
very well with the general figure, which I can
see too. It is Mittler; but what is he doing,
coming riding at such a pace as that?
The figure came nearer, and Mittler it verit-
ably was. They received him with warm
greetings as he came slowly up the steps.
Why did you not come yesterday? Ed-
ward cried, as he approached.
I do not like your grand festivities,
answered he; but I am come to-day to keep
my friends birthday with you quietly.
5-67
Yesterday you would have met a large
party here ; to-day you will find but a small
one, said Charlotte; you will meet the
count and the baroness, with whom you have
had enough to do already, I believe.
Out of the middle of the party, who had
all four come down to welcome him, the
strange man dashed in the keenest disgust,
seizing at the same time his hat and whip.
Some unlucky star is always over me, he
cried, diredlly I try to rest and enjoy my-
self. What business have I going out of my
proper character? I ought never to have
265


come, and now I am persecuted away. Under
one roof with those two I will not remain, and
you take care of yourselves. They bring
nothing but mischief; their nature is like
leaven, and propagates its own contagion.
They tried to pacify him, but it was in vain.
Whoever strikes at marriage, he cried;
whoever, either byword or aCt, undermines
this, the foundation of all moral society, that
man has to settle with me, and if I cannot
become his master, I take care to settle my-
self out of his way. Marriage is the begin-
ning and the end of all culture. It makes
the savage mild; and the most cultivated has
no better opportunity for displaying his gen-
tleness. Indissoluble it must be, because it
brings so much happiness that what small ex-
ceptional unhappiness it may bring counts for
nothing in the balance. And what do men
mean by talking of unhappiness? Impatience
it is which from time to time comes over
them, and then they fancy themselves un-
happy. Let them wait till the moment is
gone by, and then they will bless their good
fortune that what has stood so long continues
standing. There never can be any adequate
ground for separation. The condition of
man is pitched so high, in its joys and in its
sorrows, that the sum which two married
people owe to one another defies calculation.
It is an infinite debt, which can only be
discharged through all eternity.
Its annoyances marriage may often have ;
I can well believe that, and it is as it should
be. We are all married to our consciences,
and there are times when we should be glad
to be divorced from them; mine gives me
more annoyance than ever a man or a woman
can give.
All this he poured out with the greatest
vehemence: he would very likely have gone
on speaking longer, had not the sound of the
postilions horns given notice of the arrival
of the visitors, who, as if on a concerted ar-
rangement, drove into the castle-court from
opposite sides at the same moment. Mittler
slipped away as their host hastened to receive
them, and desiring that his horse might be
brought out immediately, rode angrily off.
CHAPTER X.
The visitors were welcomed and brought
in. They were delighted to find themselves
again in the same house and in the same
rooms where in early times they had passed
many happy days, but which they had not
seen for a long time. Their friends too were
very glad to see them. The count and the
baroness had both those tall fine figures which
please in middle life almost better than in
youth. If something of the first bloom had
faded off them, yet there was an air in their
appearance which was always irresistibly at-
tractive. Their manners too were thoroughly
charming. Their free way of taking hold of
life and dealing with it, their happy humor,
and apparent easy unembarrassment, commu-
nicated itself at once to the rest; and a lighter
atmosphere hung about the whole party, with-
out their having observed it stealing on them.
The effedt made itself felt immediately on
the entrance of the new-comers. They were
fresh from the fashionable world, as was to be
seen at once, in their dress, in their equip-
ment, and in everything about them; and
they formed a contrast not a little striking
with our friends, their country style, and the
vehement feelings which were at work under-
neath among them. This, however, very soon
disappeared in the stream of past recollection
and present interests, and a rapid, lively con-
versation soon united them all. After a short
time they again separated. The ladies with-
drew to their own apartments, and there found
amusement enough in the many things which
they had to tell each other, and in setting to
work at the same time to examine the new
fashions, the spring dresses, bonnets, and such
like; while the gentlemen were employing
themselves looking at the new travelling
chariots, trotting out the horses, and begin-
ning at once to bargain and exchange.
They did not meet again till dinner; in the
meantime they had changed their dress. And
here, too, the newly-arrived pair showed to
all advantage. Everything they wore was
new, and in a style which their friends at the
castle had never seen, and yet, being accus-
tomed to it themselves, it appeared perfectly
natural and graceful.
The conversation was brilliant and well sus-
tained, as, indeed in the company of such
persons everything and nothing appears to
interest. They spoke in French that the at-
tendants might not understand what they said,
and swept in happiest humor over all that was
passing in the great or the middle world. On
one particular subjeCt they remained, how-
ever, longer than was desirable. It was occa-
sioned by Charlotte asking after one of-her
266


Elective Affinities.
time would pass away ! Two or three years,
at least, would be perfect bliss. On one side
or other there would not fail to be a wish to
have the relation continue longer, and the
amiability would increase the nearer they got
to the parting time. The indifferent, even
the dissatisfied party, would be softened and
early friends, of whom she had to learn, with
some distress, that she was on the point of
being separated from her husband.
It is a melancholy thing, Charlotte said,
when we fancy our absent friends are finally
settled, when we believe persons very dear to
us to be provided for for life, suddenly to hear
that their fortunes are cast loose once
more; that they have to strike into a
fresh path of life, and very likely a
most insecure one.
Indeed, my dear friend, the count
answered, it is our own fault if we
allow ourselves to be surprised at such
things. We please ourselves with im-
agining matters of this earth, and par-
ticularly matrimonial connections, as
very enduring; and as concerns this
last point, the plays which we see over
and over again help to mislead us;
being, as they are, so untrue to the
course of the world. In a comedy we
see a marriage as the last aim of a de-
sire which is hindered and crossed
through a number of a<5ts, and at the
instant when it is reached the curtain
falls, and the momentary satisfaction
continues to ring on in our ears. But
in the world it is very different. The
play goes on still behind the scenes,
and when the curtain rises again we
may see and hear, perhaps, little enough
of the marriage.
It cannot be so very bad, how-
ever, said Charlotte, smiling. We
see people who have gone off the
boards of the theatre, ready enough to
undertake a part upon them again.
There is nothing to say against
that, said the count. In a new
character a man may readily venture
on a second trial; and when we know
the world we see clearly that it is only
this positive eternal duration of mar-
riage in a world where everything is in
motion, which has anything unbecom-
ing about it. A certain friend of mine,
whose humor displays itself principally
in suggestions for new laws, maintained
that every marriage should be concluded only
for five years. Five, he said, was a sacred
numberpretty and uneven. Such a period
would be long enough for people to learn one
anothers character, bring a child or two into
the world, quarrel, separate, and what was
best, get reconciled again. He would often
exclaim, How happily the first part of the
gained over by such behavior; they would
forget, as in pleasant company the hours pass
always unobserved, how the time went by,
and they would be delightfully surprised
when, after the term had run out, they first
observed that they had unknowingly pro-
longed it.
Charming and pleasant as all this sounded,
267


and deep (Charlotte felt it to her soul) as was
the moral significance which lay below it, ex-
pressions of this kind, on Ottilies account,
were most distasteful to her. She knew very
well that nothing was more dangerous than
the licentious conversation which treats culp-
able or semi-culpable adlions as if they were
common, ordinary, and even laudable, and
of such undesirable kind assuredly were all
which touched on the sacredness of marriage.
She endeavored, therefore, in her skilful wav,
to give the conversation another turn, and
when she found that she could not, it vexed
her that Ottilie had managed everything so
well that there was no occasion for her to
leave the table. In her quiet observant way a
nod or a look was enough for her to signify
to the head-servant whatever was to be done,
and everything went off perfectly, although
there were a couple of strange men in livery
in the way, who were rather a trouble than a
convenience. And so the count, without feel-
ing Charlottes hints, went on giving his
opinions on the same subject. Generally, he
was little enough apt to be tedious in conver-
sation ; but this was a thing which weighed
so heavily on his heart, and the difficulties
which he found in getting separated from his
wife were so great that it had made him bitter
against everything which concerned the mar-
riage bond,that very bond which, notwith-
standing, he was so anxiously desiring between
himself and the baroness.
The same friend, he went on, has an-
other law which he proposes. A marriage shall
only be held indissoluble when either both
parties, or at least one or the other, enter
into it for the third time. Such persons must
be supposed to acknowledge beyond a doubt
that they find marriage indispensable for them-
selves ; they have had opportunities of thor-
oughly knowing themselves; of knowing how
they conducted themselves in their earlier
unions; whether they have any peculiarities
of temper, which are a more frequent cause
of separation than bad dispositions. People
would then observe one another more closely;
they would pay as much attention to the mar-
ried as to the unmarried, no one being able
to tell how things may turn out.
That would add no little to the interest
of society, said Edward. As things are
now, when a man is married nobody cares
any more either for his virtues or for his
vices.
Under this arrangement, the baroness
struck in, laughing, our good hosts have
passed successfully over their two steps, and
may make themselves ready for their third.
Things have gone happily with them,
said the count. In their case death has
done with a good will what in others the con-
sistorial courts do with a very bad one.
Let the dead rest, said Charlotte, with
a half serious look.
Why so, persevered the count, when
we can remember them with honor? They
were generous enough to content themselves
with less than their number of years for the
sake of the larger good which they could
leave behind them.
Alas! that in such cases, said the bar-
oness, with a suppressed sigh, happiness is
only bought with the sacrifice of our fairest
years.
Indeed, yes, answered the count; and
it might drive us to despair, if it were not the
same with everything in this world. Nothing
goes as we hope. Children do not fulfil what
they promise ; young people very seldom ;
and if they keep their word, the world does
not keep its word with them.
Charlotte, who was delighted that the con-
versation had taken a turn at last, replied
cheerfully,
Well, then, we must content ourselves
with enjoying what good we are to have in
fragments and pieces, as we can get it; and
the sooner we can accustom ourselves to this
the better.
Certainly, the count answered, you
two have had the enjoyment of very happy
times. When I look back upon the years
when you and Edward were the loveliest
couple at the court, I see nothing now to be
compared with those brilliant times, and such
magnificent figures. When you two used to
dance together, all eyes were turned upon you,
fastened upon you, while you saw nothing but
each other.
So much has changed since those days,
said Charlotte, that we can listen to such
pretty things about ourselves without our
modesty being shocked at them.
I often privately found fault with Ed-
ward, said the count, for not being more
firm. Those singular parents of his would
certainly have given way at last; and ten fair
years is no trifle to gain.
I must take Edwards part, struck in
the baroness. Charlotte was not altogether
without faultnot altogether free from what
268


Elective Affinities.
we must call prudential considerations; and
although she had a real, hearty love for Ed-
ward, and did in her secret soul intend to
marry him, I can bear witness how sorely she
often tried him; and it was through this that
he was at last unluckily prevailed upon to
leave her and go abroad, and try to forget
her.
Edward bowed to the baroness, and seemed
grateful for her advocacy.
And then I must add this, she continued,
in excuse for Charlotte. The man who was
at that time suing for her, had for a long time
given proofs of his constant attachment to her;
and, when one came to know him well, was a
far more lovable person than the rest of you
may like to acknowledge.
My dear friend, the count replied, a
little pointedly, confess, now, that he was
not altogether indifferent to yourself, and that
Charlotte had more to fear from you than from
any other rival. I find it one of the highest
traits in women, that they continue so long in
their regard for a man, and that absence of no
duration will serve to disturb or remove it.
This fine feature, men possess, perhaps,
even more, answered the baroness. At
any rate, I have observed with you, my dear
count, that no one has more influence over
you than a lady to whom you were once at-
tached. I have seen you take more trouble
to do things when a certain person has asked
you, than the friend of this moment would
have obtained of you, if she had tried.
Such a charge as that one must bear the
best way one can, replied the count. But
as to what concerns Charlottes first husband,
I could not endure him, because he parted so
sweet a pair from one anothera really pre-
destined pair, who, once brought together,
have no reason to fear the five years, or be
thinking of a second or third marriage.
We must try, Charlotte said, to make
up for what we then allowed to slip from us.
Aye, and you must keep to that, said
the count; your first marriages, he con-
tinued, with some vehemence, were exactly
marriages of the true detestable sort. And,
unhappily, marriages generally, even the best,
have (forgive me for using a strong expression)
something awkward about them. They de-
stroy the delicacy of the relation ; everything
is made to rest on the broad certainty out of
which one side or other, at least, is too apt to
make their own advantage. It is all a matter
of course; and they seem only to have got
568
themselves tied together, that one or the
other, or both, may go their own way the
more easily.
At this moment, Charlotte, who was deter-
mined once for all that she would put an end
to the conversation, made a bold effort at
turning it, and succeeded. It then became
more general. She and her husband and the
captain were able to take a part in it. Even
Ottilie had to give her opinion; and the des-
sert was enjoyed in the happiest humor. It
was particularly beautiful, being composed al-
most entirely of the rich summer fruits in
elegant baskets, with epergnes of lovely
flowers arranged in exquisite taste.
The new laying-out of the park came to
be spoken of; and immediately after dinner
they went to look at what was going on.
Ottilie withdrew, under pretence of having
household matters to look to; in reality, it
was to set to work again at the transcribing.
The count fell into conversation with the
captain, and Charlotte afterwards joined them.
When they were at the summit of the height,
the captain good-naturedly ran back to fetch
the plan, and in his absence the count said to
Charlotte,
He is an exceedingly pleasing person.
He is very well informed, and his knowledge is
always ready. His practical power, too,
seems methodical and vigorous. What he is
doing here would be of great importance in
some higher sphere.
Charlotte listened to the captains praises
with an inward delight. She collected her-
self, however, and composedly and clearly
confirmed what the count had said. But she
was not a little startled when he continued:
This acquaintance falls most opportunely
for me. I know of a situation for which he
is perfedtly suited, and I shall be doing the
greatest favor to a friend of mine, a man of
high rank, by recommending to him a person
who is so exactly everything which he de-
sires.
Charlotte felt as if a thunderstroke had
fallen on her. The count did not observe it:
women, being accustomed at all times to hold
themselves in restraint, are always able, even
in the most extraordinary cases, to maintain
an apparent composure; but she heard not a
word more of what the count said, though he
went on speaking.
When I have made up my mind upon a
thing, he added, I am quick about it. I
have put my letter together already in my
269


head, and I shall write it immediately. You
can find me some messenger, who can ride
off with it this evening.
Charlotte was suffering agonies. Startled
with the proposal, and shocked at herself, she
was unable to utter a word. Happily, the
count continued talking of his plans for the
captain, the desirableness of which was only
too apparent to Charlotte.
It was time that the captain returned. He
came up and unrolled his design before the
count. But with what changed eyes Charlotte
now looked at the friend whom she was to
lose. In her necessity, she bowed and turned
away, and hurried down to the summer-house.
Before she was half way there the tears were
streaming from her eyes, and she flung herself
into the narrow room in the little hermitage,
and gave herself up to an agony, a passion, a
despair, of the possibility of which, but a few
moments before, she had not had the slightest
conception.
Edward had gone with the baroness in the
other diredlion towards the ponds. This
ready-witted lady, who liked to be in the
secret about everything, soon observed, in a
few conversational feelers which she threw out,
that Edward was very fluent and free-spoken
in praise of Ottilie. She contrived in the
most natural way to lead him out by degrees
so completely, that at last she had not a doubt
remaining that here was not merely an incip-
ient fancy, but a veritable, full-grown pas-
sion.
Married women, if they have no particular
love for one another, yet are silently in league
270


together, especially against young girls. The
consequences of such an inclination presented '
themselves only too quickly to her world-ex- !
perienced spirit. Added to this, she had been !
already, in the course of the day, talking to
Charlotte about Ottilie; she had disapproved j
of her remaining in the country, particularly ,
being a girl of so retiring a character; and
she had proposed to take Ottilie with her to
the residence of a friend, who was just then
bestowing great expense on the education of
an only daughter, and who was only looking
about to find some well-disposed companion for
her,to put her in the place of a second
child, and let her share in every advantage.
Charlotte had taken time to consider. But
now this glimpse of the baroness into Ed-
wards heart changed what had been but a
suggestion at once into a settled determina-
tion ; and the more rapidly she made up her
mind about it, the more she outwardly seemed
to flatter Edwards wishes. Never was there
anyone more self-possessed than this lady;
and to have mastered ourselves in extraor-
dinary cases disposes us to treat even a com-
mon case with dissimulationit makes us
inclined, as we have had to do so much
violence to ourselves, to extend our control
over others, and hold ourselves in a degree
compensated in what we outwardly gain for
what we inwardly have been obliged to sacri-
fice. To this feeling there is often joined a
kind of secret, spiteful pleasure in the blind,
unconscious ignorance with which the victim
walks on into the snare. It is not the imme-
diately doing as we please which we enjoy,
but the thought of the surprise and exposure
which is to follow. And thus was the baroness
malicious enough to invite Edward to come
with Charlotte and pay her a visit at the grape-
gathering; and, to his question whether they
might bring Ottilie with them, to frame an
answer which, if he pleased, he might inter-
pret to his wishes.
Edward had already begun to pour out his
delight at the beautiful scenery, the broad
river, the hills, the rocks, the vineyard, the
old castles, the water-parties, and the jubilee
at the grape-gathering, the wine-pressing, etc.,
in all of which, in the innocence of his heart,
he was only exuberating in the anticipation
of the impression which these scenes were to
make on the fresh spirit of Ottilie. At this
moment they saw her approaching, and the
baroness said quickly to Edward, that he had
better say nothing to her of this intended
autumn expeditionthings which we set our
hearts upon so long before, so often failing to
come to pass. Edward gave his promise;
but he obliged his companion to move more
quickly to meet her; and at last, when they
came very close, he ran on several steps in
advance. A heartfelt happiness expressed it-
self in his whole being. He kissed her hand
as he pressed into it a nosegay of wild flowers,
which he had gathered on his way.
The baroness felt bitter to her heart at the
sight of it. At the same time that she was
able to disapprove of what was really objec-
tionable in this affeCtion, she could not bear
to see what was sweet and beautiful in it
thrown away on such a poor paltry girl.
When they had collected again at the sup-
per-table, an entirely different temper was
spread over the party. The count, who had
in the meantime written his letter and dis-
patched a messenger with it, occupied himself
with the captain, whom he had been drawing
out more and more spending the whole
evening at his side, talking of serious matters.
The baroness, who sat on the counts right,
found but small amusement in this; nor did
Edward find any more. The latter, first be-
cause he was thirsty, and then because he was
excited, did not spare the wine, and attached
himself entirely to Ottilie, whom he had made
sit by him. On the other side, next to the
captain, sat Charlotte; for her it was hard, it
was almost impossible, to conceal the emotion
under which she was suffering.
The baroness had sufficient time to make
her observations at leisure. She perceived
Charlottes uneasiness, and occupied as she
was with Edwards passion for Ottilie, she
easily satisfied herself that her abstraction and
distress were owing to her husbands behavior;
and she set herself to consider in what way
she could best compass her ends.
Supper was over, and the party remained
divided. The count, whose object was to
probe the captain to the bottom, had to try
many turns before he could arrive at what he
wished with so quiet, so little vain, but so ex-
ceedingly laconic a person. They walked up
and down together on one side of the saloon,
while Edward, excited with wine and hope,
was laughing with Ottilie at a window, and
Charlotte and the baroness were walking back-
wards and forwards, without speaking, on the
other side. Their being so silent, and their
standing about in this uneasy, listless way, had
its effeCt at last in breaking up the rest of the
271



party. The ladies withdrew to their rooms,
the gentlemen to the other wing of the castle;
and so this day appeared to be concluded.
CHAPTER XI.
Edward went with the count to his room.
They continued talking, and he was easily
prevailed upon to stay a little time longer
there. The count lost himself in old times,
spoke eagerly of Charlottes beauty, which, as
a critic, he dwelt upon with much warmth.
A pretty foot is a great gift of nature,
he said. It is a grace which never perishes.
I observed it to-day, as she was walking. I
should almost have liked to have kissed her
shoe, and repeat that somewhat barbarous but
significant practice of the Sarmatians, who
know no better way of showing reverence for
any one they love or respeCt, than by using
his shoe to drink his health out of.
The point of the foot did not remain the
only subject of praise between two old ac-
quaintances; they went from the person back
upon old stories and adventures, and came on
the hindrances which at that time people had
thrown in the way of the lovers meetings
what trouble they had taken, what arts they
had been obliged to devise, only to be able to
tell each other that they loved.
Do you remember, continued the count,
an adventure in which I most unselfishly
stood your friend when their high mightinesses
were on a visit to your uncle, and were all
together in that great, straggling castle. The
day went in festivities and glitter of all sorts;
and a part of the night at least in pleasant
conversation.
And you, in the meantime, had observed
the back-way which led to the court ladies
quarter, said Edward, and so managed to
effeCt an interview for me with my beloved.
And she, replied the count, thinking
more of propriety than of my enjoyment, had
kept a frightful old duenna with her. So
that, while you two, between looks and words,
got on extremely well together, my lot, in the
meanwhile, was far from pleasant.
It was only yesterday, answered Edward,
when we heard that you were coming, that
I was talking over the story with my wife, and
describing our adventure on returning. We
missed the road, and got into the entrance-
hall from the garden. Knowing our way
from thence so well as we did, we supposed
we could get along easily enough. But you
remember our surprise on opening the door.
The floor was covered over with mattresses,
on which the giants lay in rows stretched out
and sleeping. The single sentinel at his post
looked wonderingly at us; but we, in the
cool way young men do things, strode quietly
on over the outstretched boots, without dis-
turbing a single one of the snoring children
of Anak.
I had the strongest inclination to stum-
ble, the count said, that there might be an
alarm given. What a resurrection we should
have witnessed.
At this moment the castle clock struck
twelve.
It is deep midnight, the count added,
laughing, and just the proper time; I must
ask you, my dear baron, to show me a kind-
ness. Do you guide me to-night, as I guided
you then. I promised the baroness that I
would see her before going to bed. We have
272


had no opportunity of any private talk to- |
gether the whole day. We have not seen
each other for a long time, and it is only ;
natural that we should wish for a confidential
hour. If you will show me the way there, I
will manage to get back again; and in any
case, there will be no boots for me to stumble
over.
I shall be very glad to show you such a
piece of hospitality, answered Edward;
only the three ladies are together in the
same wing. Who knows whether we shall
not find them still with one another, or make
some other mistake, which may have a strange
appearance?
Do not be afraid, said the count; the
baroness expects me. She is sure by this time
to be in her own room, and alone.
Well, then, the thing is easy enough,
Edward answered.
He took a candle, and lighted the count
down a private staircase leading into a long
gallery. At the end of this he opened a
small door. They mounted a winding flight
of stairs, which brought them out upon a !
narrow landing-place; and then, putting the
candle in the counts hand, he pointed to a :
tapestried door on the right, which opened
readily at the first trial, and admitted the
count, leaving Edward outside in the dark.
Another door on the left led into Charlottes
sleeping-room. He heard her voice, and lis-
tened. She was speaking to her maid. Is
Ottilie in bed? she asked. No, was the
answer; she is sitting writing in the room
below. You may light the night-lamp, ;
said Charlotte; I shall not want you any
more. It is late. I can put out the candle, |
and do whatever I may want else myself.
It was a delight to Edward to hear that
Ottilie was writing still. She is working for ;
me, he thought triumphantly. Through the |
darkness, he fancied he could see her sitting J
all alone at her desk. He thought he would |
go to her, and see her; and how she would
turn to receive him. He felt a longing, which j
he could not resist, to be near her once more. I
But, from where he was, there was no way to j
the apartments which she occupied. He now
found himself immediately at his wifes door.
A singular change of feeling came over him.
He tried the handle, but the bolts were shot.
He knocked gently. Charlotte did not hear
him. She was walking rapidly up and down
in the large dressing-room adjoining. She was
repeating over and over what, since the counts
569
unexpected proposal, she had often enough
had to say to herself. The captain seemed to
stand before her. At home, and everywhere,
he had become her all in all. And now he
was to go ; and it was all to be desolate again.
She repeated whatever wise things one can say
to ones self; she even anticipated, as people
so often do, the wretched comfort, that time
would come at last to her relief; and then she
cursed the time which would have to pass be-
fore it could lighten her sufferingsshe cursed
the dead, cold time when they would be
lightened. At last she burst into tears; they
were the more welcome, since tears with her
were rare. She flung herself on the sofa, and
gave herself up unreservedly to her sufferings.
Edward, meanwhile, could not take himself
from the door. He knocked again; and a
third time rather louder; so that Charlotte,
in the stillness of the night, distinctly heard
it, and started up in fright. Her first thought
was,it can only be, it must be the captain ;
her second, that it was impossible. She
thought she must have been deceived. But
surely she had heard it; and she wished, and
she feared to have heard it. She went into
her sleeping-room, and walked lightly up to
the bolted tapestry-door. She blamed her-
self for her fears. Possibly it maybe the
baroness wanting something, she said to her-
self ; and she called out quietly and calmly,
Is anybody there? A light voice answered,
It is I. Who? returned Charlotte, not
being able to make out the voice. She
thought she saw the captains figure standing
at the door. In a rather louder tone, she
heard the word Edward ! She drew back
the bolt, and her husband stood before her.
He greeted her with some light jest. She was
unable to reply in the same tone. He com-
plicated the mysterious visit by his mysterious
explanation of it.
Well, then, hesaidat last, I will confess,
the real reason why I am come is, that I have
made a vow to kiss your shoe this evening.
It is long since you thought of such a
thing as that, said Charlotte.
So much the worse, he answered; and
so much the better.
She had thrown herself back in an arm-
chair, to prevent him from seeing the slight-
ness of her dress. He flung himself down
before her, and she could not prevent him
from giving her shoe a kiss. And when the
shoe came off in his hand, he caught her foot
and pressed it tenderly against his breast.
273


Charlotte was one of those women who,
being of a naturally calm temperament, con-
tinue in marriage, without any purpose or any
effort, the air and character of lovers. She
was never expressive towards her husband;
generally, indeed, she rather shrank from any
warm demonstration on his part. It was not
that she was cold, or at all hard and repulsive,
but she remained always like a loving bride,
who draws back with a kind of shyness even
from what is permitted. And so Edward
found her this evening, in a double sense.
How sorely did she not long that her husband
would go; the figure of his friend seemed to
hover in the air and reproach her. But what
should have had the effeCt of driving Edward
away only attracted him the more. There
were visible traces of emotion about her. She
had been crying ; and tears, which with weak
persons detraCt from their graces, add immea-
surably to the attractiveness of those whom
we know commonly as strong and self-pos-
sessed.
Edward was so agreeable, so gentle, so
! pressing; he begged to be allowed to stay
i with her. He did not demand it, but half in
fun, half in earnest, he tried to persuade her;
he never thought of his rights. At last, as if
in mischief, he blew out the candle.
In the dim lamplight, the inward affeCtion,
the imagination, maintained their rights over
the real;it was Ottilie that was resting in
Edwards arms; and the captain, now faintly,
now clearly, hovered before Charlottes soul.
And so, strangely intermingled, the absent
and the present flowed in a sweet enchant-
ment one into the other.
And yet the present would not let itself be
robbed of its own unlovely right. They spent
a part of the night talking and laughing at all
sorts of things, the more freely, as the heart
had no part in it. But when Edward awoke
in the morning, on his wifes breast, the day
seemed to stare in with a sad, awful look, and
the sun to be shining in upon a crime. He
stole lightly from her side; and she found
herself, with strange enough feelings, when
she awoke, alone.
274


CHAPTER XII.
When the party assembled again at break-
fast, an attentive observer might have read in
the behavior of its various members the dif-
ferent things which were passing in their inner
thoughts and feelings. The count and the
baroness met with the air of happiness which
a pair of lovers feel, who, after having been
forced to endure a long separation, have
mutually assured each other of their unaltered
affedlion. On the other hand, Charlotte and
Edward equally came into the presence of the
captain and Ottilie with a sense of shame and
remorse. For such is the nature of love that
it believes in no rights except its own, and all
other rights vanish away before it. Ottilie was
in child-like spirits. For hershe was almost
what might be called open. The captain ap-
peared serious. His conversation with the
count, which had roused in him feelings that
for some time past had been at rest and dor-
mant, had made him only too keenly conscious
that here he was not fulfilling his work, and
at bottom was but squandering himself in a
half-a6livity of idleness.
Hardly had their guests departed, when
fresh visitors were announcedto Charlotte
most welcomely, all she wished for being to
be taken out of herself, and to have her atten-
tion dissipated. They annoyed Edward, who
was longing to devote himself to Ottilie; and
Ottilie did not like them either; the copy
which had to be finished the next morning
early being still incomplete. They stayed a
long time, and immediately that they were
gone she hurried off to her room.
It was now evening. Edward, Charlotte,
and the captain had accompanied the strangers
some little way on foot, before the latter got
into their carriage, and previous to returning
home they agreed to take a walk along the
water-side.
A boat had come, which Edward had had
fetched from a distance, at no little expense;
and they decided that they would try whether
it was easy to manage. It was made fast on
the bank of the middle pond, not far from
some old ash trees, on which they calculated
to make an effedt in their future improvements.
There was to be a landing-place made there,
and under the trees a seat was to be raised,
with some wonderful architecture about it: it
was to be the point for which people were to
make when they went across the water.
And where had we better have the land-
ing-place on the other side? said Edward.
I should think under my plane trees.
They stand a little too far to the right,
said the captain. You are nearer the castle
if you land further down. However, we must
think about it.
The captain was already standing in the
stern of the boat, and had taken up an oar.
Charlotte got in, and Edward with herhe
took the other oar; but as he was on the point
of pushing off, he thought of Ottiliehe re-
collected that this water-party would keep him
out late; who could tell when he would get
back? He made up his mind shortly and
promptly; sprang back to the bank, and
reaching the other oar to the captain, hurried
homemaking excuses to himself as he ran.
Arriving there he learned that Ottilie had
shut herself upshe was writing. In spite of
the agreeable feeling that she was doing some-
thing for him, it was the keenest mortification
to him not to be able to see her. His impa-
tience increased every moment. He walked
up and down the large drawing-room; he
tried a thousand things, and could not fix his
attention upon any. He was longing to see
her alone, before Charlotte came back with
the captain. It was dark by this time, and
the candles were lighted.
At last she came in beaming with loveliness:
the sense that she had done something for her
friend had lifted all her being above itself.
She put down the original and her transcript
on the table before Edward.
Shall we collate them? she said, with a
smile.
Edward did not know what to answer. He
looked at herhe looked at the transcript.
The first few sheets were written with the
greatest carefulness in a delicate womans
handthen the strokes appeared to alter, to
become more light and freebut who can
describe his surprise as he ran his eyes over the
concluding page? For heavens sake, he
cried, what is this? this is my hand? He
looked at Ottilie, and again at the paper; the
conclusion, especially, was exactly as if he
had written jt himself. Ottilie said nothing,
but she looked at him with her eyes full of the
warmest delight. Edward stretched out his
arms. You love me! he cried: Ottilie,
you love me ! They fell on each others
breastwhich had been the first to catch the
other it would have been impossible to dis-
tinguish.
From that moment the world was all changed
275


for Edward. He was no longer what he had
been, and the world was no longer what it had
been. They partedhe held her hands; they
gazed in each others eyes. They were on
the point of embracing each other again.
Charlotte entered with the captain. Edward
inwardly smiled at their excuses for having
stayed out so long. Oh how far too soon
you have returned, he said to himself.
They sat down to supper. They talked
about the people who had been there that
day. Edward, full of love and ecstasy, spoke
well of every onealways sparing, often ap-
proving. Charlotte, who was not altogether
of his opinion, remarked this temper in him,
and jested with him about ithe who had
always the sharpest thing to say on departed
visitors, was this evening so gentle and tolerant.
With fervor and heartfelt conviction Ed-
ward cried, One has only to love a single
creature with all ones heart, and the whole
world at once looks lovely!
Ottilie dropped her eyes on the ground, and
Charlotte looked straight before her.
The captain took up the word, and said,
It is the same with deep feelings of respedt
and reverence: we first learn to recognize
what there is that is to be valued in the world,
when we find occasion to entertain such senti-
ments towards a particular object.
Charlotte made an excuse to retire early to
her room, where she could give herself up to
thinking over what had passed in the course of
the evening between herself and the captain.
When Edward sprang on shore, and, push-
ing off the boat, had himself committed his
wife and his friend to the uncertain element,
Charlotte found herself face to face with the
man on whose account she had been already
secretly suffering so bitterly, sitting in the '
twilight before her, and sweeping along the '
boat with the sculls in easy motion. She felt
a depth of sadness, very rare with her, weigh-
ing on her spirits. The undulating movement
of the boat, the splash of the oars, the faint
breeze playing over the watery mirror, the
sighing of the reeds, the long flight of the
birds, the fitful twinkling of the first stars
there was something spedlral about it all in
the universal stillness. She fancied her friend
was bearing her away to set her on some far-
off shore, and leave her there alone; strange
emotions were passing through her, and she
could not give way to them and weep.
The captain was describing to her the man-
ner in which, in his opinion, the improvements
276
should be continued. He praised the con-
struction of the boat; it was so convenient,
he said, because one person could so easily
manage it with a pair of oars. She should
herself learn how to do this; there was often a
delicious feeling in floating along alone upon
the water, ones own ferryman and steersman.
The parting which was impending, sank on
Charlottes heart as he was speaking. Is he
saying this on purpose? she thought to herself.
Does he know it yet? Does he suspect it? or
is it only accident; and is he unconsciously
foretelling me my fate?
A weary, impatient heaviness took hold of
her; she begged him to make for land as soon
as possible, and return with her to the castle.
It was the first time that the captain had
been upon the water, and, though generally
he had acquainted himself with its depth, he
did not know accurately the particular spots.
Dusk was coming on ; he directed his course
to a place where he thought it would be easy
to get on shore, and from which he knew the
footpath which led to the castle was not far
distant. Charlotte, however, repeated her
wish to get to land quickly, and the place
which he thought of being at a short distance,
he gave it up, and exerting himself as much
as he possibly could, made straight for the
bank. Unhappily the water was shallow, and
he ran aground some way off from it. From
the rate at which he was going the boat was
fixed fast, and all his efforts to move it were
in vain. What was to be done ? There was
no alternative but to get into the water and
carry his companion ashore.
It was done without difficulty or danger.
He was strong enough not to totter with her,
or give her any cause for anxiety; but in her
agitation she had thrown her arms about his
neck. He held her fast, and pressed her to
himselfand at last laid her down upon a
grassy bank, not without emotion and con-
fusion . she still lay upon his neck ... he
caught her up once more in his arms, and
pressed a warm kiss upon her lips. The next
moment he was at her feet: he took her hand,
and held it to his mouth, and cried,
Charlotte, will you forgive me?
The kiss which he had ventured to give, and
which she had all but returned to him, brought
Charlotte to herself again she pressed his
handbut she did not attempt to raise him
up. She bent down over him, and laid her
hand upon his shoulder, and said,
We cannot now prevent this moment from


artist: p. grotjohann.
THE CAPTAIN CARRYING CHARLOTTE.


forming an epoch in our lives; but it depends
on us to bear ourselves in a manner which
shall be worthy of us. You must go away,
my dear friend; and you are going. The
count has plans for you, to give you better
prospersI am glad, and I am sorry. I did
not mean to speak of it till it was certain:
but this moment obliges me to tell you my
secret . Since it does not depend on our-
selves to alter our feelings, I can only forgive
you, I can only forgive myself, if we have the
courage to alter our situation. She raised
him up, took his arm to support herself, and
they walked back to the castle without speaking.
But now she was standing in her own room,
where she had to feel and to know that she
was Edwards wife. Her strength and the
various discipline in which through life she
had trained herself, came to her assistance in
the conflidt. Accustomed as she had always
been to look steadily into herself and to con-
trol herself, she did not now find it difficult,
with an earnest effort, to come to the resolu-
tion which she desired. She could almost
smile when she remembered the strange visit
of the night before. Suddenly she was seized
with a wonderful instindlive feeling, a thrill
of fearful delight which changed into holy
hope and longing. She knelt earnestly down,
and repeated the oath which she had taken to
Edward before the altar.
Friendship, affedtion, renunciation, floated
in glad, happy images before her. She felt
restored to health and to herself. A sweet
weariness came over her. She lay down, and
sunk into a calm, quiet sleep.
CHAPTER XIII.
Edward, on his part, was in a very different
temper. So little he thought of sleeping that
it did not once occur to him even to undress
himself. A thousand times he kissed the
transcript of the document, but it was the
beginning of it, in Ottilies childish, timid
hand; the end he scarcely dared to kiss, for
he thought it was his own hand which he
saw. Oh, that it were another document! he
whispered to himself; and, as it was, he felt
it was the sweetest assurance that his highest
wish would be fulfilled. Thus it remained
in his hands, thus he continued to press it to
his heart, although disfigured by a third name
subscribed to it. The waning moon rose up
over the wood. The warmth of the night
drew Edward out into the free air. He
wandered this way and that way; he was
at once the most restless and the happiest of
mortals. He strayed through the gardens
they seemed too narrow for him; he hurried
out into the park, and it was too wide. He
was drawn back toward the castle; he stood
under Ottilies window. He threw himself
down on the steps of the terrace below.
Walls and bolts, he said to himself, may
still divide us, but our hearts are not divided.
If she were here before me, into my arms she
would fall, and I into hers; and what can one
desire but that sweet certainty! All was
stillness round him; not a breath was mov-
ing;so still it was, that he could hear the
unresting creatures underground at their work,
to whom day or night are alike. He aban-
doned himself to his delicious dreams; at
last he fell asleep, and did not wake till the
sun with his royal beams was mounting up in
the sky and scattering the early mists.
He found himself the first person awake on
his domain. The laborers seemed to be stay-
ing away too long: they came, he thought
they were too few, and the work set out for
the day too slight for his desires. He in-
quired for more workmen; they were promised,
and in the course of the day they came. But
these, too, were not enough for him to carry
his plans out as rapidly as he wished. To do
the work gave him no pleasure any longer; it
should all be done. And for whom? The
paths should be gravelled that Ottilie might
walk pleasantly upon them; seats should be
made at every spot and corner that Ottilie
might rest on them. The new park-house
was hurried forward. It should be finished
for Ottilies birthday. In all he thought and
all he did, there was no more moderation.
The sense of loving and of being loved, urged
him out into the unlimited. How changed
was now to him the look of all the rooms,
their furniture, and their decorations! He
did not feel as if he was in his own house any
more. Ottilies presence absorbed everything.
He was utterly lost in her; no other thought
ever rose before him; no conscience dis-
turbed him; every restraint which had been
laid upon his nature burst loose. His whole
being centred upon Ottilie. This impetu-
osity of passion did not escape the captain,
who longed, if he could, to prevent its evil
consequences. All those plans which were
now being hurried on with this immoderate
570
277


speed, had been drawn out and calculated for
a long, quiet, easy execution. The sale of
the farm had been completed; the first in-
stalment had been paid. Charlotte, according
to the arrangement, had taken possession of
it. But the very first week after, she found it
more than usually necessary to exercise pa-
tience and resolution, and to keep her eye on
what was being done. In the present hasty
style of proceeding, the money which had
been set apart for the purpose would not go
far.
Much had been begun, and much yet re-
mained to be done. How could the captain
leave Charlotte in such a situation? They
consulted together, and agreed that it would
be better that they themselves should hurry
on the works, and for this purpose employ
money which could be made good again at
the period fixed for the discharge of the
second instalment of what was to be paid for
the farm. It could be done almost without
loss. They would have a freer hand. Every-
thing would progress simultaneously. There
were laborers enough at hand, and they could
get more accomplished at once, and arrive
swiftly and surely at their aim. Edward
gladly gave his consent to a plan which so
entirely coincided with his own views.
During this time Charlotte persisted with
all her heart in what she had determined for
herself, and her friend stood by her with a
like purpose, manfully. This very circum-
stance, however, produced a greater intimacy
between them. They spoke openly to one
another of Edwards passion, and consulted
what had better be done. Charlotte kept
Ottilie more about herself, watching her nar-
rowly; and the more she understood her own
heart, the deeper she was able to penetrate
into the heart of the poor girl. She saw no
help for it, except in sending her away.
It now appeared a happy thing to her that
Luciana had gained such high honors at the
school; for her great aunt, as soon as she
heard of it, desired to take her entirely to
herself, to keep her with her, and bring her
out into the world. Ottilie could, therefore,
return thither. The captain would leave them
well provided for, and everything would be
as it had been a few months before; indeed,
in many respedts better. Her own position
in Edwards affedtion, Charlotte thought she
could soon recover; and she settled it all, and
laid it all out before herself so sensibly that
she only strengthened herself more completely
in her delusion, as if it were possible for them
to return within their old limits,as if a bond
which had been violently broken could again
be joined together as before.
In the meantime Edward felt very deeply
the hindrances which were thrown in his way.
He soon observed that they were keeping him
and Ottilie separate; that they made it diffi-
cult for him to speak with her alone, or even
to approach her, except in the presence of
others. And while he was angry about this,
he was angry at many things besides. If he
caught an opportunity for a few hasty words
with Ottilie, it was not only to assure her of
his love, but to complain of his wife and of
the captain. He never felt that with his own
irrational haste he was on the way to exhaust
the cash-box. He found bitter fault with
them, because in the execution of the work
they were not keeping to the first agreement,
and yet he had been himself a consenting
party to the second; indeed, it was he who
had occasioned it and made it necessary.
Hatred is a partisan, but love is even more
so. Ottilie also estranged herself from Char-
lotte and the captain. As Edward was com-
plaining one day to Ottilie of the latter, saying
that he was not treating him like a friend, or,
under the circumstances, adting quite up-
rightly, she answered unthinkingly, I have
once or twice had a painful feeling that he was
not quite honest with you. I heard him say once
to Charlotte, I Edward would but spare us
that eternal flute of his He can make no-
thing of it, and it is too disagreeable to listen
to him. You may imagine how it hurt me,
when I like accompanying you so much.
She had scarcely uttered the words when
her conscience whispered to her that she had
much better have been silent. However, the
thing was said. Edwards features worked
violently. Never had anything stung him
more. He was touched on his tenderest
point. It was his amusement; he followed it
like a child. He never made the slightest
pretensions; what gave him pleasure should
be treated with forbearance by his friends.
He never thought how intolerable it is for a
third person to have his ears lacerated by an
unsuccessful talent. He was indignant; he
was hurt in a way which he could not forgive.
He felt himself discharged from all obliga-
tions.
The necessity of being with Ottilie, of see-
ing her, whispering to her, exchanging his
confidence with her, increased with every day.
278


He determined to write to her, and ask her
to carry on a secret correspondence with him.
The strip of paper on which he had, laconi-
cally enough, made his request, lay on his
writing-table, and was swept off by a draught
of wind as his valet entered to dress his hair.
The latter was in the habit of trying the heat
of the iron by picking up any scraps of paper
which might be lying about. This time his
hand fell on the billet; he twisted it up
hastily, and it was burnt. Edward observing
the mistake snatched it out of his hand.
After the man was gone, he sat himself down
to write it over again. The second time it
would not run so readily off his pen. It gave
him a little uneasiness; he hesitated, but he
got over it. He squeezed the paper into
Ottilies hand the first moment he was able
to approach her. Ottilie answered him im-
mediately. He put the note unread in his
waistcoat pocket, which, being made short in
the fashion of the time, was shallow, and did
not hold it as it ought. It worked out, and
fell without his observing it on the ground,
Charlotte saw it, picked it up, and after giving
a hasty glance at it, reached it to him.
Here is something in your handwriting,
she said, which you may be sorry to lose.
He was confounded. Is she dissembling?
he thought to himself. Does she know what
is in the note, or is she deceived by the resem-
blance of the hand? He hoped, he believed
the latter. He was warneddoubly warned;
but those strange accidents, through which a
higher intelligence seems to be speaking to
us, his passion was not able to interpret.
Rather, as he went further and further on, he
felt the restraint under which his friend and
his wife seemed to be holding him the more
intolerable. His pleasure in their society was
gone. His heart was closed against them,
and though he was obliged to endure their
society, he could not succeed in rediscovering
or in reanimating within his heart anything


of his old affection for them. The silent re-
proaches which he was forced to make to him-
self about it were disagreeable to him. He
tried to help himself with a kind of humor
which, however, being without love, was also
without its usual grace.
Over all such trials, Charlotte found assist-
ance to rise in her own inward feelings. She
knew her own determination. Her own affec-
tion, fair and noble as it was, she would utterly
renounce.
And sorely she longed to go to the assist-
ance of the other two. Separation, she knew
well, would not alone suffice to heal so deep a
wound. She resolved that she would speak
openly about it to Ottilie herself. But she
could not do it. The recollection of her own
weakness stood in her way. She thought she
could talk generally to her about the sort of
thing. But general expressions about the
sort of thing, fitted her own case equally
well, and she could not bear to touch it.
Every hint which she would give Ottilie, re-
coiled back on her own heart. She would
warn, and she was obliged to feel that she
might herself still be in need of warning.
She contented herself, therefore, with silently
keeping the lovers more apart, and by this
gained nothing. The slight hints which fre-
quently escaped her had no effect upon Ottilie;
for Ottilie had been assured by Edward that
Charlotte was devoted to the captain, that
Charlotte herself wished for a separation, and
that he was at this moment considering the
readiest means by which it could be brought
about.
Ottilie, led by the sense of her own inno-
cence along the road to the happiness for
which she longed, only lived for Edward.
Strengthened by her love for him in all good,
more light and happy in her work for his sake,
and more frank and open towards others, she
found herself in a heaven upon earth.
So all together, each in his or her own
fashion, reflecting or unreflecting, they con-
tinued on the routine of their lives. All
seemed to go its ordinary way, as, in mon-
strous cases, when everything is at stake, men
will still live on, as if it were all nothing.
CHAPTER XIV.
In the meantime a letter came from the
count to the captaintwo, indeedone which
he might produce, holding out fair, excellent
280
j prospeCls in the distance; the other contain-
1 ing a distinCb offer of an immediate situation,
1 a place of high importance and responsibility
at the court, his rank as major, a very con-
; siderable salary, and other advantages. A
i number of circumstances, however, made it
| desirable that for the moment he should not
! speak of it, and consequently he only in-
formed his friends of his distant expectations,
and concealed what was so nearly impending.
I He went warmly on, at the same time, with
his present occupation, and quietly made ar-
rangements to secure the works being all con-
tinued without interruption after his departure.
; He was now himself desirous that as much as
' possible should be finished off at once, and
; was ready to hasten things forward to prepare
I for Ottilies birthday. And so, though with-
j out having come to any express understanding,
! the two friends worked side by side together,
j Edward was now well pleased that the cash-
i box was filled by their having taken up money.
The whole affair went forward at fullest speed.
The captain had done his best to oppose the
plan of throwing the three ponds together into
a single sheet of water. The lower embank-
ment would have to be made much stronger,
the two intermediate embankments to be
I taken away, and altogether, in more than one
j sense, it seemed a very questionable proceed-
! ing. However, both these schemes had been
already undertaken; the soil which was re-
| moved above, being carried at once down to
i where it was wanted. And here there came
j opportunely on the scene a young architect,
j an old pupil of the captain, who partly by
' introducing workmen who understood work
( of this nature, and partly by himself, when-
: ever it was possible, contracting for the work
itself, advanced things not a little, while at
the same time they could feel more confidence
in their being securely and lastingly executed.
In secret this was a great pleasure to the cap-
tain. He could now be confident that his
absence would not be so severely felt. It was
one of the points on which he was most reso-
lute with himself, never to leave anything
which he had taken in hand uncompleted,
unless he could see his place satisfactorily
supplied. And he could not but hold in
small respedt, persons who introduce confu-
sion around themselves only to make their
absence felt, and are ready to disturb in
wanton selfishness what they will not be at
j hand to restore.
| So they labored on, straining every nerve


to make Ottilies birthday splendid, without '
any open acknowledgment that this was what
they were aiming at, or, indeed, without their
diredlly acknowledging it to themselves.
Charlotte, wholly free from jealousy as she
was, could not think it right to keep it as a
real festival. Ottilies youth, the circum-
stances of her fortune, and her relationship to
their family, were not at all such as made it
fit that she should appear as the queen of the
day; and Edward would not have it talked
about, because everything was to spring out,
as it were, of itself, with a natural and de-
lightful surprise.
They, therefore, came all of them to a sort
of tacit understanding that on this day, with-
out further circumstance, the new house in the
park was to be opened, and they might take
the occasion to invite the neighborhood and
give a holiday to their own people. Edwards
passion, however, knew no bounds. Longing
as he did to give himself to Ottilie, his presents
and his promises must be infinite. The birth-
day gifts which on the great occasion he was
to offer to her seemed, as Charlotte had ar-
ranged them, far too insignificant. He spoke
to his valet, who had the care of his wardrobe,
and who consequently had extensive acquaint-
ance among the tailors and mercers and fash-
ionable milliners; and he, who not only
understood himself what valuable presents
were, but also the most graceful way in which
they should be offered, immediately ordered
an elegant box, covered with red morocco
and studded with steel nails, to be filled with
presents worthy of such a shell. Another
thing, too, he suggested to Edward. Among
the stores at the castle was a small show of
fireworks which had never been let off. It
would be easy to get some more, and have
something really fine. Edward caught the
idea, and his servant promised to see to its
being executed. This matter was to remain a
secret.
While this was going on, the captain, as the
day drew nearer, had been making arrange-
ments for a body of police to be presenta
precaution which he always thought desirable
when large numbers of men are to be brought
together. And, indeed, against beggars, and
against all other inconveniences by which the
pleasure of a festival can be disturbed, he had
made effectual provision.
Edward and his confidant, on the contrary,
were mainly occupied with their fireworks.
They were to be let off on the side of the
middle water in front of the great ash tree.
The party were to be collected on the opposite
side, under the planes, that at a sufficient dis-
tance from the scene, in ease and safety, they
might see them to the best effect, with the
reflections on the water, the water-rockets,
and floating-lights, and all the other designs.
Under some other pretext, Edward had the
ground underneath the plane trees cleared of
bushes and grass and moss. And now first
could be seen the beauty of their forms, to-
gether with their full height and spread, right
up from the earth. He was delighted with
them. It was just this very time of the year
that he had planted them. How long ago
could it have been? he said to himself. As
soon as he got home, he turned over the old
diary books, which his father, especially when
in the country, was very careful in keeping.
He might not find an entry of this particular
planting, but another important domestic mat-
ter, which Edward well remembered, and which
had occurred on the same day, would surely be
mentioned. He turned over a few volumes.
The circumstance he was looking for was there.
How amazed, how overjoyed he was, when he
discovered the strangest coincidence! The
day and the year on which he had planted
those trees was the very day, the very year,
when Ottilie was born.
CHAPTER XV.
The long-wished-for morning dawned at
last on Edward; and very soon a number of
guests arrived. They had sent out a large
number of invitations, and many who had
missed the laying of the foundation-stone,
which was reported to have been so charming,
were the more careful not to be absent on the
second festivity.
Before dinner the carpenters people ap-
peared, with music, in the court of the castle.
They bore an immense garland of flowers,
composed of a number of single wreaths,
winding in and out, one above the other;
saluting the company, they made request, ac-
cording to custom, for silk handkerchiefs and
ribands, at the hands of the fair sex, with which
to dress themselves out. When the castle party
went into the dining-hall, they marched off
singing and shouting, and after amusing them-
selves a while in the village, and coaxing many
a riband out of the women there, old and
571
281


young, they came at last, with crowds behind
them and crowds expecting them, out upon
the height where the park-house was now
standing. After dinner, Charlotte rather held
back her guests. She did not wish that there
should be any solemn or formal procession,
and they found their way in little parties,
broken up, as they pleased, without rule or
order, to the scene of adtion. Charlotte
stayed behind with Ottilie, and did not im-
prove matters by doing so. For Ottilie being
really the last that appeared, it seemed as if
the trumpets and the clarionets had only been
waiting for her, and as if the gayeties had been
ordered to commence directly on her arrival.
To take off the rough appearance of the
house, it had been hung with green boughs
and flowers. They had dressed it out in an
architectural fashion, according to a design
of the captains; only that, without his knowl-
edge, Edward had desired the architect to
work in the date upon the cornice in flowers,
and this was necessarily permitted to remain.
The captain had only arrived on the scene in
time to prevent Ottilies name from figuring
in splendor on the gable. The beginning,
which had been made for this, he contrived
to turn skilfully to some other use, and to get
rid of such of the letters as had been already
finished.
The garland was set up, and was to be seen
far and wide about the country. The flags
and the ribands fluttered gayly in the air; and
a short oration was, the greater part of it, dis-
persed by the wind. The solemnity was at an
end. There was now to be a dance on the
smooth lawn in front of the building, which
had been inclosed with boughs and branches.
A gayly-dressed working mason took Edward
up to a smart-looking girl of the village, and
called himself upon Ottilie, who stood out
with him. These two couples speedily found
others to follow them, and Edward contrived
pretty soon to change partners, catching Ot-
tilie, and making the round with her. The
younger part of the company joined merrily
in the dance with the people, while the elder
among them stood and looked on.
Then, before they broke up and walked
about, an order was given that they should all
coiled: again at sunset under the plane trees.
Edward was the first upon the spot, ordering
everything, and making his arrangements with
his valet, who was to be on the other side, in
company with the firework-maker, managing
his exhibition of the spectacle.
The captain was far from satisfied at some
of the preparations which he saw made; and
he endeavored to get a word with Edward
about the crush of spectators which was to be
expeCled. But the latter, somewhat hastily,
begged that he might be allowed to manage
this part of the days amusements himself.
The upper end of the embankment having
been recently raised, was still far from com-
pact. It had been staked, but there was no
grass upon it, and the earth was uneven and
insecure. The crowd pressed on, however, in
great numbers. The sun went down, and the
castle party was served with refreshments under
the plane trees, to pass the time till it should
have become sufficiently dark. The place
was approved of beyond measure, and they
looked forward to frequently enjoying the
view over so lovely a sheet of water, on future
occasions.
A calm evening, a perfeCl absence of wind,
promised everything in favor of the speCtacle,
when suddenly loud and violent shrieks were
heard. Large masses of the earth had given
way on the edge of the embankment, and a
number of people were precipitated into the
water. The pressure from the throng had
gone on increasing till at last it had become
more than the newly-laid soil would bear, and
the bank had fallen in. Everybody wanted
to obtain the best place, and now there was
no getting either backwards or forwards.
People ran this and that way, more to see
what was going on than to render assistance.
What could be done when no one could reach
the place ?
The captain, with a few determined persons,
hurried down and drove the crowd off the
embankment back upon the shore; in order
that those who were really of service might
have free room to move. One way or another
they contrived to seize hold of such as were
sinking; and with or without assistance all
who had been in the water were got out safe
upon the bank, with the exception of one boy,
whose struggles in his fright, instead of bring-
ing him nearer to the embankment, had only-
carried him further from it. His strength
seemed to be failingnow only a hand was
seen above the surface, and now a foot. By
an unlucky chance the boat was on the op-
posite shore filled with fireworksit was a
long business to unload it, and help was slow
in coming. The captains resolution was
taken; he flung off his coat; all eyes were
diredled towards him, and his sturdy' vigorous
282


figure gave everyone hope and confidence:
but a cry of surprise rose out of the crowd as
they saw him fling himself into the water
every eye watched him as the strong swimmer
swiftly reached the boy, and bore him, al-
though to appearance dead, to the embank-
ment.
Now came up the boat. The captain stepped
in and examined whether there were any still
missing, or whether they were all safe. The
surgeon was speedily on the spot, and took
charge of the inanimate boy. Charlotte
joined them, and entreated the captain to
go now and take care of himself, to hurry
back to the castle and change his clothes.
He would not go, however, till persons on
whose sense he could rely, who had been close
to the spot at the time of the accident, and
who had assisted in saving those who had fallen
in, assured him that all were safe.
Charlotte saw him on his way to the house,
and then she remembered that the wine and
the tea, and everything else which he could
want, had been locked up, for fear any of the
servants should take advantage of the disorder
of the holiday, as on such occasions they are
too apt to do. She hurried through the scat-
tered groups of her company, which were
loitering about the plane trees. Edward was
there, talking to every onebeseeching every
one to stay. He would give the signal di-
rectly, and the fireworks should begin. Char-
lotte went up to him, and entreated him to
put off an amusement which was no longer in
place, and which at the present moment no
one could enjoy. She reminded him of what
283


ought to be clone for the boy who had been
saved, and for his preserver.
The surgeon will do whatever is right, no
doubt, replied Edward. He is provided
with everything which he can want, and we
should only be in the way if we crowded
about him with our anxieties.
Charlotte persisted in her opinion, and
made a sign to Ottilie, who at once prepared
to retire with her. Edward seized her hand,
and cried, We will not end this day in a
lazaretto. She is too good for a sister of
mercy. Without us, I should think, the
half-dead may wake, and the living dry them-
selves.
Charlotte did not answer, but went. Some
followed herothers followed these: in the
end, no one wished to be the last, and all fol-
lowed. Edward and Ottilie found themselves
alone under the plane trees. He insisted that
stay he would, earnestly, passionately, as she
entreated him to go back with her to the
castle. No, Ottilie! he cried; the extra-
ordinary is not brought to pass in the smooth
common waythe wonderful accident of this
evening brings us more speedily together.
You are mineI have often said it to you,
and sworn it to you. We will not say it and
swear it any morewe will make it be.
The boat came over from the other side.
The valet was in ithe asked, with some em-
barrassment, what his master wished to have
done with the fireworks ?
Let them off! Edward cried to him:
let them off!It was only for you that they
were provided, Ottilie, and you shall be the
only one to see them Let me sit beside you, i
and enjoy them with you. Tenderly, timidly,
he sat down at her side, without touching her.
Rockets went hissing upcannon thundered
Roman candles shot out their blazing balls
squibs flashed and dartedwheels spun round,
first singly, then in pairs, then all at once,
faster and faster, one after the other, and more
and more together. Edward, whose bosom was
on fire, watched the blazing spedlacle with
eyes gleaming with delight; but Ottilie, with
her delicate and nervous feelings, in all this
noise and fitful blazing and flashing, found
more to distress her than to please. She
leaned shrinking against Edward, and he, as
she drew to him and clung to him, felt the
delightful sense that she belonged entirely to
him.
The night had scarcely reassumed its rights,
when the moon rose and lighted their path as
284
they walked back. A figure, with his hat in
his hand, stepped across their way, and begged
an alms of themin the general holiday he
said that he had been forgotten. The moon
shone upon his face, and Edward recognized
the features of the importunate beggar; but,
happy as he then was, it was impossible for
him to be angry with anyone. He could not
recollect that, especially for that particular
day, begging had been forbidden under the
heaviest penaltieshe thrust his hand into his
pocket, took the first coin which he found,
and gave the fellow a piece of gold. His
own happiness was so unbounded that he
would have liked to have shared it with every-
one.
In the meantime all had gone well at the
castle. The skill of the surgeon, everything
which was required being ready at hand,
Charlottes assistanceall had worked to-
gether, and the boy was brought to life
again. The guests dispersed, wishing to catch
a glimpse or two of what was to be seen of
the fireworks from the distance; and, after a
scene of such confusion, were glad to get
back to their own quiet homes.
The captain also, after having rapidly changed
his dress, had taken an active part in what
required to be done. It was now all quiet
again, and he found himself alone with Char-
lottegently and affectionately he now told
her that his time for leaving them approached.
She had gone through so much that evening,
that this discovery made but a slight impres-
sion upon hershe had seen how her friend
could sacrifice himself; how he had saved
i another, and had himself been saved. These
strange incidents seemed to foretell an impor-
tant future to herbut not an unhappy one.
Edward, who now entered with Ottilie, was
informed at once of the impending departure
of the captain. He suspedled that Charlotte
had known longer how near it was; but he
was far too much occupied with himself, and
with his own plans, to take it amiss, or care
about it.
On the contrary, he listened attentively,
and with signs of pleasure, to the account of
the excellent and honorable position in which
the captain was to be placed. The course of
the future was hurried impetuously forward by
his own secret wishes. Already he saw the
captain married to Charlotte, and himself
married to Ottilie. It would have been the
richest present which anyone could have made
him, on the occasion of the days festival!


But how surprised was Ottilie, when, on
going to her room, she found upon the table
the beautiful box! Instantly she opened it;
inside, all the things were so nicely packed
and arranged, that she did not venture to take
them out, she scarcely even ventured to lift
them. There were muslin, cambric, silk,
shawls and lace, all rivalling each other in
delicacy, beauty and costlinessnor were or-
naments forgotten. The intention had been,
as she saw well, to furnish her with more than
one complete suit of clothes: but it was all so
costly, so little like what she had been accus-
tomed to, that she scarcely dared, even in
thought, to believe it could be really for
her.
] CHAPTER XVI.
j The next morning the captain had disap-
j peared, having left^ a grateful, feeling letter
' addressed to his friends upon his table. He
and Charlotte had already taken a half leave
of each other the evening before she felt
that the parting was forever, and she resigned
herself to it; for i.n the counts second letter,
which the captain had at last shown to her,
there was a hint of a prospedt of an advan-
tageous marriage, and, although he had paid
no attention to it at all, she accepted it for as
good as certain, and gave him up firmly and
fully.
Now, therefore, she thought that she had a
285

572


right to require of others the same control over
themselves which she had exercised herself: it
had not been impossible to her, and it ought
not to be impossible to them. With this feel-
ing she began the conversation with her hus-
band; and she entered upon it the more
openly and easily, from a sense that the ques-
tion must now, once for all, be decisively set
at rest.
Our friend has left us, she said; we are
now once more together as we wereand it
depends upon ourselves whether we choose to
return altogether into our old position.
Edward, who heard nothing except what
flattered his own passion, believed that Char-
lotte, in these words, was alluding to her pre-
vious widowed state, and, in a roundabout
way, was making a suggestion for a separation;
so that he answered, with a laugh, Why not?
all we want is to come to an understanding.
But he found himself sorely enough unde-
ceived, as Charlotte continued, And we have
now a choice of opportunities for placing Ot-
tilie in another situation. Two openings have
offered themselves for her, either of which will
do very well. Either she can return to the
school, as my daughter has left it and is with
her great-aunt; or she can be received into a
desirable family, where, as the companion of
an only child, she will enjoy all the advantages
of a solid education.
Edward, with a tolerably successful effort at
commanding himself, replied, Ottilie has
been so much spoiled, by living so long with
us here, that she will scarcely like to leave us
now.
We have all of us been too much spoiled,
said Charlotte; and yourself not least. This
is an epoch which requires us seriously to be-
think ourselves. It is a solemn warning to us
to consider what is really for the good of all
the members of our little circleand we our-
selves must not be afraid of making sacrifices.
At any rate I cannot see that it is right
that Ottilie should be made a sacrifice, re-
plied Edward; and that would be the case if
we were now to allow her to be sent away
among strangers. The captains good genius
has sought him out herewe can feel easy,
we can feel happy, at seeing him leave us;
but who can tell what may be before Ottilie ?
There is no occasion for haste.
What is before us is sufficiently clear,
Charlotte answered, with some emotion; and as
she was determined to have it all out at once,
she went on: You love Ottilie; every day
| you are becoming more attached to her. A
' reciprocal feeling is rising on her side as well,
I and feeding itself in the same way. Why
should we not acknowledge in words what
every hour makes obvious? and are we not to
have the common prudence to ask ourselves in
what it is to end?
We may not be able to find an answer on
the moment, replied Edward, collecting him-
self; but so much may be said, that if we
cannot exadtly tell what will come of it, we
may resign ourselves to wait and see what the
future may tell us about it.
No great wisdom is required to prophesy
here, answered Charlotte; and, at any rate,
we ought to feel that you and I are past the
age when people may walk blindly where they
should not or ought not to go. There is no
one else to take care of uswe must be our
own friends, our own managers. No one ex-
pects us to commit ourselves in an outrage
upon decency: no one expects that we are
going to expose ourselves to censure or to
ridicule.
How can you so mistake me? said Ed-
ward, unable to reply to his wifes clear, open
words. Can you find it a fault in me, if I
am anxious about Ottilies happiness? I do
not mean future happinessno one can count
on thatbut what is present, palpable, imme-
diate. Consider, dont deceive yourself; con-
sider frankly Ottilies case, torn away from
us, and sent to live among strangers. I, at
least, am not cruel enough to propose such a
change for her!
Charlotte saw too clearly into her husbands
intentions, through this disguise. For the
first time she felt how far he had estranged
himself from her. Her voice shook a little
Will Ottilie be happy if she divides us?
she said. If she deprives me of a husband,
and his children of a father!
Our children, I should have thought, were
sufficiently provided for, said Edward, with
a cold smile; adding, rather more kindly,
but why at once expect the very worst?
The very worst is too sure to follow this
passion of yours, returned Charlotte: do
not refuse good advice while there is yet time;
do not throw away the means which I propose
to save us. In troubled cases those must work
and help who see the clearestthis time it is
I. Dear, dearest Edward! listen to mecan
you propose to me, that now at once I shall
renounce my happiness! renounce my fairest
rights! renounce you!
286


Who says that? replied Edward, with
some embarrassment.
You, yourself, answered Charlotte; in
determining to keep Ottilie here are you not
acknowledging everything which must arise
out of it? I will urge nothing on youbut
if you cannot conquer yourself, at least you
will not be able much longer to deceive your-
self.
Edward felt how right she was. It is fearful
to hear spoken out, in words, what the heart
has gone on long permitting to itself in secret.
To escape only for a moment, Edward an-
swered, It is not yet clear to me what you
want.
My intention, she replied, was to talk
over with you these two proposalseach of
them has its advantages. The school would
be best suited to her, as she now is; but the
other situation is larger and wider, and prom-
ises more, when I think what she may become.
She then detailed to her husband circumstan-
tially what would lie before Ottilie in each
position, and concluded with the words, For
my own part I should prefer the ladys house
to the school, for more reasons than one; but
particularly because I should not like the af-
fection, the love indeed, of the young man
there, which Ottilie has gained, to increase.
Edward appeared to approve; but it was
only to find some means of delay. Charlotte,
who desired to commit him to a definite step,
seized the opportunity, as Edward made no
immediate opposition, to settle Ottilies de-
parture, for which she had already privately
made all preparations, for the next day.
Edward shudderedhe thought he was be-
trayed. His wifes affectionate speech he
fancied was an artfully contrived trick to
separate him forever from his happiness. He
appeared to leave the thing entirely to her;
but in his heart his resolution was already
taken. To gain time to breathe, to put off
the immediate intolerable misery of Ottilies
being sent away, he determined to leave his
house. He told Charlotte he was going; but
he had blinded her to his real reason, by tell-
ing her that he would not be present at
Ottilies departure; indeed, that, from that
moment, he would see her no more. Char-
lotte, who believed that she had gained her
point, approved most cordially. He ordered
his horse, gave his valet the necessary direc-
tions what to pack up, and where he should
follow him; and then, on the point of depart-
ure, he sat down and wrote:
Edward to Charlotte.
The misfortune, my love, which has be-
fallen us, may or may not admit of remedy;
only this I feel, that if I am not at once to be
driven to despair, I must find some means of
delay for myself, and for all of us. In making
myself the sacrifice, I have a right to make a
request. I am leaving my home, and I only
return to it under happier and more peaceful
auspices. While I am away you keep pos-
session of itbut with Ottilie. I choose to
know that she is with you, and not among
strangers. Take care of her; treat her as
you have treated heronly more lovingly,
more kindly, more tenderly! I promise that
I will not attempt any secret intercourse with
her. Leave me, as long a time as you please,
without knowing anything about you. I will
not allow myself to be anxiousnor need you
be uneasy about me: only, with all my heart
and soul, I beseech you, make no attempt to
send Ottilie away, or to introduce her into
any other situation. Beyond the circle of the
castle and the park, placed in the hands of
j strangers, she belongs to me, and I will take
possession of her! If you have any regard
for my affection, for my wishes, for my suffer-
ings, you will leave me alone to my madness:
and if any hope of recovery from it should
ever hereafter offer itself to me, I will not
resist.
This last sentence ran off his pennot out
| of his heart. Even when he saw it upon the
j paper, he began bitterly to weep. That he,
under any circumstances, should renounce the
, happinesseven the wretchednessof loving
Ottilie! He only now began to feel what he
was doinghe was going away without know-
ing what was to be the result. At any rate he
was not to see her again nowwith what cer-
tainty could he promise himself that he would
ever see her again ? But the letter was written
1 the horses were at the door; every moment
I he was afraid he might see Ottilie somewhere,
' and then his whole purpose would go to the
; winds. He collected himselfhe remem-
bered, that, at any rate, he would be able to
: return at any moment he pleased; and that,
: by his absence he would have advanced nearer
to his wishes: on the other side, he pictured
Ottilie to himself forced to leave the house if
J he stayed. He sealed the letter, ran down the
steps, and sprang upon his horse.
I As he rode past the hotel, he saw the beggar
287



to whom lie had given so much money the
night before, sitting under the trees: the man
was busy enjoying his dinner, and, as Edward
passed, stood up, and made him the humblest
obeisance. That figure had appeared to him
yesterday, when Ottilie was on his arm; now
it only served as a bitter reminiscence of the
happiest hour of his life. His grief redoubled.
The feeling of what he was leaving behind was
intolerable. He looked again at the beggar.
Happy wretch! he cried, you can still
feed upon the alms of yesterdayand I can-
not any more on the happiness of yesterday !
lotte took her out for a long walk, and talked
of various other things; but not once, and
apparently on purpose, mentioning her hus-
band. When they returned she found the
table laid only with two covers.
It is unpleasant to miss even the most trifling
thing to which we have been accustomed. In
serious things such a loss becomes miserably
painful. Edward and the captain were not
there. The first time for a long while Char-
lotte sat at the head of the table herselfand
it seemed to Ottilie as if she was deposed.
The two ladies sat opposite each other; Char-
CHAPTER XVII.
Ottilie heard some one ride away, and
went to the window in time just to catch a
sight of Edwards back. It was strange, she
thought, that he should have left the house
without seeing her, without having even wished
her good-morning. She grew uncomfortable,
and her anxiety did not diminish when Char-
lotte talked, without the least embarrassment,
of the captain and his appointment, and of
the little hope there was of seeing him again
for a long time. The only comfort Ottilie
could find for herself was in the idea that Ed-
ward had ridden after his friend, to accom-
pany him a part of his journey.
On rising from table, however, they saw
288


Edwards travelling carriage under the win-
dow. Charlotte, a little as if she was put
out, asked who had had it brought round
there. She was told it was the valet, who had
some things there to pack up. It required all
Ottilies self-command to conceal her wonder
and her distress.
The valet came in, and asked if they would
be so good as to let him have a drinking cup
of his masters, a pair of silver spoons, and a
number of other things, which seemed to
Ottilie to imply that he was gone some dis-
tance, and would be away for a long time.
Charlotte gave him a very cold dry answer.
She did not know what he meanthe had
everything belonging to his master under his
own care. What the man wanted was to
speak a word to Ottilie, and on some pretence
or other to get her out of the room; he made
some clever excuse, and persisted in his re-
quest so far that Ottilie asked if she should
go to look for the things for him ? But Char-
lotte quietly said that she had better not.
The valet had to depart, and the carriage
rolled away.
It was a dreadful moment for Ottilie. She
understood nothingcomprehended nothing.
She could only feel that Edward had been
parted from her for a long time. Charlotte
felt for her situation, and left her to herself.
We will not attempt to describe what she
went through, or how she wept. She suffered
infinitely. She prayed that God would help
her only over this one day. The day passed,
and the night, and when she came to herself
again she felt herself a changed being.
She had not grown composed. She was not
resigned, but after having lost what she had
lost, she was still alive, and there was still
something for her to fear. Her anxiety, after
returning to consciousness, was at once lest,
now that the gentlemen were gone, she might
be sent away too. She never guessed at Ed-
wards threats, which had secured her remain-
ing with her aunt. Yet Charlottes manner
served partially to reassure her. The latter
exerted herself to find employment for the
poor girl, and hardly ever,never, if she
could help it,left her out of her sight; and
although she knew well how little words can
do against the power of passion, yet she knew,
too, the sure though slow influence of thought
and refledlion, and therefore missed no oppor-
tunity of inducing Ottilie to talk with her on
every variety of subjedt.
It was no little comfort to Ottilie when one
; day Charlotte took an opportunity of making
1 (she did it on purpose) the wise observation,
How keenly grateful people were to us when
we were able by stilling and calming them to
help them out of the entanglements of passion !
Let us set cheerfully to work, she said, at
I what the men have left incomplete: we shall
| be preparing the most charming surprise for
j them when they return to us, and our tem-
| perate proceedings will have carried through
and executed what their impatient natures
would have spoiled.
Speaking of temperance, my dear aunt, I
cannot help saying how I am struck with the
intemperance of men, particularly in respect
of wine. It has often pained and distressed
me, when I have observed how, for hours to-
gether, clearness of understanding, judgment,
considerateness, and whatever is most amiable
about them, will be utterly gone, and instead
of the good which they might have done if
they had been themselves, most disagreeable
things sometimes threaten. How often may
not wrong, rash determinations have arisen
entirely from that one cause!
Charlotte assented, but she did not go on
with the subject. She saw only too clearly
that it was Edward of whom Ottilie was think-
ing. It was not exadlly habitual with him,
but he allowed himself much more frequently
than was at all desirable to stimulate his en-
joyment and his power of talking and adting
by such indulgence. If what Charlotte had
just said had set Ottilie thinking again about
men, and particularly about Edward, she was
all the more struck and startled when her aunt
began to speak of the impending marriage of
the captain as of a thing quite settled and
acknowledged. This gave a totally different
aspect to affairs from what Edward had pre-
viously led her to entertain. It made her
watch every expression of Charlottes, every
hint, every adtion, every step. Ottilie had
become jealous, sharp-eyed and suspicious,
without knowing it.
Meanwhile, Charlotte with her clear glance
looked through the whole circumstances of
their situation, and made arrangements which
would provide, among other advantages, full
employment for Ottilie. She contradled her
household, not parsimoniously, but into nar-
rower dimensions; and, indeed, in one point
of view, these moral aberrations might be
taken for a not unfortunate accident. For in
the style in which they had been going on,
they had fallen imperceptibly into extrava-
573
289


gance; and from a want of seasonable reflec-
tion, from the rate at which they had been
living, and from the variety of schemes into
which they had been launching out, their fine
fortune, which had been in excellent con-
dition, had been shaken, if not seriously in-
jured.
The improvements which were going on in
the park she did not interfere with; she rather
sought to advance whatever might form a
basis for future operations. But here, too,
she assigned herself a limit. Her husband
on his return should still find abundance to
amuse himself with.
In all this work she could not sufficiently
j value the assistance of the young architect.
: In a short time the lake lay stretched out
J under her eyes, its new shores turfed and
j planted with the most discriminating and ex-
i cellent judgment. The rough work at the
new house was all finished. Everything which
j was necessary to protedl it from the weather
; she took care to see provided, and there for
the present she allowed it to rest in a con-
dition in which what remained to be done
could hereafter be readily commenced again.
Thus hour by hour she recovered her spirits
and her cheerfulness. Ottilie only seemed to
have done so. She was only forever watching,
in all that was said and done, for symptoms
290


which might show her whether Edward would
be soon returning: and this one thought was
the only one in which she felt any interest.
It was, therefore, a very welcome proposal
to her when it was suggested that they should
get together the boys of the peasants, and
employ them in keeping the park clean and
neat. Edward had long entertained the idea.
A pleasant-looking sort of uniform was made
for them, which they were to put on in the
evenings, after they had been properly cleaned
and washed. The wardrobe was kept in the
castle; the more sensible and ready of the
boys themselves were intrusted with the man-
agement of itthe architect adting as chief
director. In a very short time, the children
acquired a kind of character. It was found
easy to mould them into what was desired;
and they went through their work not without
a sort of manoeuvre. As they marched along,
with their garden shears, their long-handled
pruning knives, their rakes, their little spades
and hoes, and sweeping brooms; others fol-
lowing after these with baskets to carry off the
stones and rubbish; and others, last of all,
trailing along the heavy iron rollerit was a
thoroughly pretty, delightful procession. The
architect observed in it a beautiful series of
situations and occupations to ornament the
frieze of a garden-house. Ottilie, on the other
hand, could see nothing in it but a kind of
parade, to salute the master of the house on
his near return.
And this stimulated her, and made her wish
to begin something of the sort herself. They
had before endeavored to encourage the girls
of the village in knitting and sewing and
spinning, and whatever else women could do;
and since what had been done for the im-
provement of the village itself, there had been
a perceptible advance in these descriptions of
industry. Ottilie had given what assistance
was in her power, but she had given it at ran-
dom, as opportunity or inclination prompted
her; now she thought she would go to work
more satisfactorily and methodically. But a
company is not to be formed out of a num-
ber of girls, as easily as out of a number of
boys. She followed her own good sense, and,
without being exactly conscious of it, her
efforts were solely directed towards connecting
every girl as closely as possible each with her
own home, her own parents, brothers and
sisters: and she succeeded with many of
them. One lively little creature only was in-
cessantly complained of as showing no capacity
for work, and as never likely to do anything
if she were left at home.
Ottilie could not be angry with the girl, for
to herself the little thing was especially at-
tachedshe clung to her, went after her, and
ran about with her, whenever she was per-
mittedand then she would be adtive and
cheerful and never tire. It appeared to be a
necessity of the childs nature to hang about
a beautiful mistress. At first, Ottilie allowed
her to be her companion; then she herself
began to feel a sort of affection for her; and,
at last, they never parted at all, and Nanny
attended her mistress wherever she went.
The latters footsteps were often bent to-
wards the garden, where she liked to watch
the beautiful show of fruit. It was just the
end of the raspberry and cherry season, the
few remains of which were no little delight to
Nanny. On the other trees there was a
promise of a magnificent bearing for the
autumn, and the gardener talked of nothing
but his master; and how he wished that he
might be at home to enjoy it. Ottilie could
listen to the good old man forever! He thor-
oughly understood his business; and Edward
EdwardEdwardwas forever the theme
of his praise!
Ottilie observed, how well all the grafts
which had been budded in the spring had
taken. I only wish, the gardener answered,
my good master may come to enjoy them.
If he were here this autumn, he would see
what beautiful sorts there are in the old castle
garden, which the late lord, his honored father,
put there. I think the fruit gardeners that
are now dont succeed as well as the Car-
thusians used to do. We find many fine
names in the catalogue, and then we bud from
them, and bring up the shoots, and, at last,
when they come to bear, it is not worth
while to have such trees standing in' our
garden.
Over and over again, whenever the faithful
old servant saw Ottilie, he asked when his
master might be expedted home; and when
Ottilie had nothing to tell him, he would look
vexed, and let her see in his manner that he
thought she did not care to tell him: the
sense of uncertainty which was thus forced
upon her became painful beyond measure, and
yet she could never be absent from these beds
and borders. What she and Edward had
sown and planted together were now in full
flower, requiring no further care from her,
except that Nanny should be at hand with the
291


watering-pot; and who shall say with what
sensations she watched the later flowers, which
were just beginning to show, and which were
to be in the bloom of their beauty on Ed-
wards birthday, the holiday to which she had
looked forward with such eagerness, when
these flowers were to have expressed her affec-
tion and her gratitude to him !but the hopes
which she had formed of that festival were
dead now, and doubt and anxiety never ceased
to haunt the soul of the poor girl.
Into real open, hearty understanding with j
Charlotte, there was no more a chance of her
being able to return; for, indeed, the position J
of these two ladies was very different. If
things could remain in their old stateif it
were possible that they could return again into
the smooth, even way of calm ordered life,
Charlotte gained everything; she gained hap-
piness for the present, and a happy future
opened before her. On the other hand, for
Ottilie all was lostone may say, all; for she
had first found in Edward what life and hap-
piness meant; and, in her present position,
she felt an infinite and dreary chasm of which
before she could have formed no conception.
A heart which seeks, feels well that it wants
something; a heart which has lost, feels that
something is goneits yearning and its long-
ing changes into uneasy impatienceand a
womans spirit, which is accustomed to wait-
ing and to enduring, must now pass out from
its proper sphere, become adlive, and at-
tempt and do something to make its own hap-
piness.
Ottilie had not given up Edwardhow
could she?although Charlotte, Avisely enough,
in spite of her convidtion to the contrary, as-
sumed it as a thing of course, and resolutely
took it as decided that a quiet rational regard
was possible between her husband and Ottilie.
How often, however, did not Ottilie remain
at nights, after bolting herself into her room,
on her knees before the open box, gazing at
the birthday presents, of Avhich as yet she had
1 not touched a single thingnot cut out or
; made up a single dress! How often Avith the
; sunrise did the poor girl hurry out of the
house, in Avhich she once had found all her
happiness, away into the free air, into the
country Avhich then had had no charms for
her. Even on the solid earth she could not
bear to stay; she Avould spring into the boat,
and row out into the middle of the lake, and
there, drawing out some book of travels, lie
rocked by the motion of the Avaves, reading
and dreaming that she Avas far away, Avhere
she Avould never fail to find her friendshe
remaining, ever nearest to his heart, and he to
hers.
292




CHAPTER XVIII.
It may easily be supposed that the strange,
busy gentleman, whose acquaintance we have
already madeMittleras soon as he received
information of the disorder which had broken
out among his friends, felt desirous, though
neither side had as yet called on him for
assistance, to fulfil a friends part towards
them, and do what he could to help them in
their misfortune. He thought it advisable,
however, to wait first a little while; knowing
too well, as he did, that it was more difficult
to come to the aid of cultivated persons in
their moral perplexities, than of the unculti-
vated. He left them, therefore, for some
time to themselves; but at last he could with-
hold no longer, and he hastened to seek out
Edward, on whose traces he had already
lighted. His road led him to a pleasant,
pretty valley, with a range of green, sweetly-
wooded meadows, down the centre of which
ran a never-failing stream, sometimes winding
slowly along, then tumbling and rushing
among rocks and stones. The hills sloped
gently up on either side, covered with rich
corn-fields and well-kept orchards. The vil-
lages were at proper distances from each
other. The whole had a peaceful character
about it, and the detached scenes seemed
designed expressly, if not for painting, at
least for life.
At last a neatly-kept farm, with a clean,
modest dwelling-house, situated in the middle
of a garden, fell under his eye. He con-
jectured that this was Edwards present abode;
and he was not mistaken.
Of this our friend in his solitude we have
only thus much to saythat in his seclusion
he was resigning himself utterly to the feeling
of his passion, thinking out plan after plan,
and feeding himself with innumerable hopes.
He could not deny that he longed to see
Ottilie there; that he would like to carry her
off there, to tempt her there; and whatever
else (putting, as he now did, no check upon
his thoughts) pleased to suggest itself, whether
permitted or unpermitted. Then his imagin-
ation wandered up and down, pi&uring every
sort of possibility. If he could not have her
there, if he could not lawfully possess her, he
would secure to her the possession of the
property for her own. There she should live
for herself, silently, independently; she should
be happy in that spotsometimes his self-
torturing mood would lead him furtherbe
happy in it, perhaps, with another.
So days flowed away in increasing oscilla-
tion between hope and suffering, between
tears and happinessbetween purposes, prep-
arations, and despair. The sight of Mittler
did not surprise him; he had long expedted
that he would come; and now that he did, he
was partly welcome to him. He believed that
he had been sent by Charlotte. He had pre-
pared himself with all manner of excuses and
delays; and if these would not serve, with
decided refusals; or else, perhaps, he might
hope to learn something of Ottilie,and then
he would be dear to him as a messenger from
heaven.
Not a little vexed and annoyed was Ed-
ward, therefore, when he understood that
Mittler had not come from the castle at all,
but of his own free accord. His heart closed
up, and at first the conversation would not
open itself. Mittler, however, knew very well
that a heart that is occupied with love has an
urgent necessity to express itselfto pour out
to a friend what is passing within it; and he
allowed himself, therefore, after a few speeches
backwards and forwards, for this once to go
out of his character, and play the confidant
! in place of the mediator. He had calculated
justly. He had been finding fault in a good-
natured way with Edward, for burying himself
in that lonely place, upon which Edward re-
plied :
1 do not know how I could spend my
time more agreeably. I am always occupied
with her; I am always close to her. I have
the inestimable comfort of being able to think
where Ottilie is at each momentwhere she is
going, where she is standing, where she is re-
posing. I see her moving and adting before
me as usual; ever doing or designing some-
thing which is to give me pleasure. But this
will not always answer; for how can I be
happy away from her? And then my fancy
begins to work; I think what Ottilie should
do to come to me; I write sweet, loving
letters in her name to myself, and then I
answer them, and keep the sheets together.
I have promised that I will take no steps to
seek her; and that promise I will keep. But
what binds her, that she should make no ad-
vances to me? Has Charlotte had the bar-
barity to exadt a promise, to exadt an oath
from her, not to write to me, not to send me
a word, a hint, about herself? Very likely
she has. It is only natural; and yet to me
574
293


it is monstrous, it is horrible. If she loves
meas I think, as I know that she doeswhy
does she not resolve, why does she not venture
to fly to me, and throw herself into my arms?
I often think she ought to do it; and she
could do it. If I ever hear a noise in the
hall, I look towards the door. It must be
hershe is comingI look up to see her.
Alas! because the possible is impossible, I let
myself imagine that the impossible must be-
come possible. At night, when I lie awake,
and the lamp flings an uncertain light about
the room, her form, her spirit, a sense of her
presence, sweeps over me, approaches me,
seizes me. It is but for a moment; it is that
I may have an assurance that she is thinking
of me, that she is mine. Only one pleasure
remains to me. When I was with her I never
dreamed of her; now when I am far away, and,
oddly enough, since I have made the acquaint-
ance of other attra&ive persons in this neigh-
borhood, for the first time, her figure appears
to me in my dreams, as if she would say to
me, Look on them, and on me. You will
find none more beautiful, more lovely than I.
And so she is present in every dream I have.
In whatever happens to me with her, we are
woven in and in together. Now we are sub-
scribing a contradl together. There is her
hand, and there is mine; there is her name,
and there is mine; and they move one into
the other, and seem to devour each other.
Sometimes she does something which injures
the pure idea which I have of her; and then
I feel how intensely I love her, by the inde-
scribable anguish which it causes me. Again,
unlike herself, she will rally and vex me; and
then at once the figure changesher sweet,
round, heavenly face draws out; it is not her,
it is another; but I lie vexed, dissatisfied and
wretched. Laugh not, dear Mittler, or laugh
on as you will. I am not ashamed of this
attachment, of thisif you please to call it
sofoolish, frantic passion. No, I never
loved before. It is only now that I know
what to love means. Till now, what I have
called life was nothing but its prelude
amusement, sport to kill the time with. I
never lived till I knew her, till I loved her
entirely and only loved her. People have
often said of me, not to my face, but behind
my back, that in most things I was but a
botcher and a bungler. It may be so; for I
had not then found in what I could show my-
self a master. I should like to see the man
who outdoes me in the talent of love. A
miserable life it is, full of anguish and tears;
but it is so natural, so dear to me, that I could
hardly change it for another.
Edward had relieved himself slightly by
this violent unloading of his heart. But in
doing so every feature of his strange condition
had been brought out so clearly before his
eyes, that, overpowered by the pain of the
struggle, he burst into tears, which flowed all
the more freely as his heart had been made
weak by telling it all.
Mittler, who was the less disposed to put a
check on his inexorable good sense and strong,
vigorous feeling, because by this violent out-
break of passion on Edwards part he saw
himself driven far from the purpose of his
coming, showed sufficiently decided marks of
his disapprobation. Edward should a<5t as a
man, he said; he should remember what he
owed to himself as a man. He should not
forget that the highest honor was to command
ourselves in misfortune; to bear pain, if it
must be so, with equanimity and self-colle6t-
edness. That was what we should do, if we
wished to be valued and looked up to as ex-
amples of what was right.
Stirred and penetrated as Edward was with
the bitterest feelings, words like these could
but have a hollow, worthless sound.
It is well, he cried, for the man who
is happy, who has all that he desires, to talk;
but he would be ashamed of it if he could see
how intolerable it was to the sufferer. No-
thing short of an infinite endurance would be
enough, and easy and contented as he was,
what could he know of an infinite agony?
There are cases, he continued, yes, there
are, where comfort is a lie, and despair is a
duty. Go, heap your scorn upon the noble
Greek, who well knows how to delineate he-
roes, when in their anguish he lets those
heroes weep. He has even a proverb, Men
who can weep are good. Leave me, all you
with dry heart and dry eye. Curses on the
happy, to whom the wretched serve but for a
spedlacle. When body and soul are torn in
pieces with agony, they are to bear ityes, to
be noble and bear it, if they are to be allowed
to go off the scene with applause. Like the
gladiators, they must die gracefully before the
eyes of the multitude. My dear Mittler, I
thank you for your visit; but really you would
oblige me much, if you would go out and
look about you in the garden. We will meet
again. I will try to compose myself, and be-
come more like you.


Mittler was unwilling to let a conversation
drop which it might be difficult to begin
again, and still persevered. Edward, too,
was quite ready to go on with it; besides that
of itself, it was tending towards the issue
which he desired.
Indeed, said the latter, this thinking
and arguing backwards and forwards leads to
nothing. In this very conversation I myself
have first come to understand myself; I have
first felt decided as to what I must make up
my mind to do. My present and my future
life I see before me; I have to choose only
between misery and happiness. Do you, my
best friend, bring about the separation which
must take place, which, in fa6t, is already
made; gain Charlottes consent for me. I
will not enter upon the reasons why I believe
there will be the less difficulty in prevailing
upon her. You, my dear friend, must go.
Go, and give us all peace; make us all happy.
Mittler hesitated. Edward continued:
My fate and Ottilies cannot be divided,
and shall not be shipwrecked. Look at this
glass; our initials are engraved upon it. A
gay reveller flung it into the air, that no one
should drink of it more. It was to fall on
the rock and be dashed to pieces; but it did
not fall; it was caught. At a high price I
bought it back, and now I drink out of it
dailyto convince myself that the connec-
tion between us cannot be broken; that des-
tiny has decided.
Alas, alas! cried Mittler, what must I
not endure with my friends? Here comes
superstition, which of all things I hate the
worstthe most mischievous and accursed of
all the plagues of mankind. We trifle with
295


prophecies, with forebodings and dreams, and
give a seriousness to our every-day life with
them; but when the seriousness of life itself
begins to show, when everything around us is
heaving and rolling, then come in these spec-
tres to make the storm more terrible.
In this uncertainty of life, cried Ed-
ward, poised as it is between hope and fear,
leave the poor heart its guiding-star. It may
gaze towards it, if it cannot steer towards it.
Yes, I might leave it; and it would be
very well, replied Mittler, if there were
but one consequence to expect; but I have
always found that nobody will attend to
symptoms of warning. Man cares for nothing
except what flatters him and promises him
fair; and his faith is alive exclusively for the
sunny side.
Mittler, finding himself carried off into the
shadowy regions, in which the longer he re-
mained in them, the more uncomfortable he
always felt, was the more ready to assent to
Edwards eager wish that he should go to
Charlotte. Indeed, if he stayed, what was
there further which at that moment he could
urge on Edward? To gain time, to inquire
in what state things were with the ladies, was
the best thing which even he himself could
suggest as at present possible.
He hastened to Charlotte, whom he found
as usual, calm and in good spirits. She told
him readily of everything which had occurred;
for from what Edward had said he had only
been able to gather the effedls. On his own
side, he felt his way with the utmost caution.
He could not prevail upon himself even cur-
sorily to mention the word separation. It was
a surprise, indeed, to him, but from his point
of view an unspeakably delightful one, when
Charlotte, at the end of a number of un-
pleasant things, finished with saying:
I must believe, I must hope, that things
will all work round again, and that Edward
will return to me. How can it be otherwise,
as soon as I become a mother?
Do I understand you right? returned
Mittler.
Perfectly, Charlotte answered.
A thousand times blessed be this news!
he cried, clasping his hands together. I
know the strength of this argument on the
mind of a man. Many a marriage have I
seen first cemented by it, and restored again
when broken. Such a good hope as this is
worth more than a thousand words. Now
indeed it is the best hope which we can have.
For myself though, he continued, I have
all reason to be vexed about it. In this case
I can see clearly no self-love of mine will be
flattered. I shall earn no thanks from you by
my services; I am in the same case as a cer-
tain medical friend of mine, Avho succeeds in
all cures which he undertakes with the poor
for the love of God; but can seldom do
anything for the rich who will pay him.
Here, thank God, the thing cures itself, after
all my talking and trying had proved fruit-
less.
Charlotte now asked him if he would carry
the news to Edward: if he would take a
letter to him from her, and then see what
should be done. But he declined under-
taking this. All is done, he cried; do
you write your letterany messenger will do
as well as II will come back to wish you
joy. I will come to the christening!
For this refusal she was vexed with him
as she frequently was. His eager impetuous
charadler brought about much good; but his
over-haste was the occasion of many a failure.
No one was more dependent than he on the
impressions which he formed on the mo-
ment.
Charlottes messenger came to Edward,
who received him half in terror. The letter
was to decide his fate, and it might as well
contain No as Yes. He did not venture, for
a long time, to open it. At last he tore off
the cover, and stood petrified at the following
passage, with which it concluded:
Remember the night-adventure when you
visited your wife as a loverhow you drew
her to you, and clasped her as a well-beloved
bride in your arms. In this strange accident
let us revere the providence of heaven, which
has woven a new link to bind us, at the mo-
ment when the happiness of our lives was
threatening to fall asunder and to vanish.
What passed from that moment in Ed-
wards soul it would be difficult to describe!
Under the weight of such a stroke, old
habits and fancies come out again to assist to
kill the time and fill up the chasms of life.
Hunting and fighting are an ever-ready re-
source of this kind for a nobleman; Edward
longed for some outward peril, as a counter-
balance to the storm within him. He craved
for death, because the burden of life threat-
ened to become too heavy for him to bear.
It comforted him to think that he would soon
296


cease to be, and so would make those whom
he loved happy by his departure.
No one made any difficulty in his doing
what he purposedbecause he kept his inten-
tion a secret. He made his will with all due
formalities. It gave him a very sweet feeling
to secure Ottilies fortune provision was
made for Charlotte, for the unborn child, for
the captain, and for the servants. The war,
which had again broken out, favored his
wishes: he had disliked exceedingly the half-
soldiering which had fallen to him in his
youth, and that was the reason why he had
left the service. Now it gave him a fine ex-
hilarating feeling to be able to rejoin it, under
a commander of whom it could be said, that
under his conduct death was likely, and vic-
tory was sure.
Ottilie, when Charlottes secret was made
known to her, bewildered by it, like Edward,
and more than he, retired into herselfshe
had nothing further to say: hope she could
not, and wish she dared not. A glimpse into
what was passing in her we can gather from
her diary, some passages of which we think to
communicate.
297
575


CHAPTER I.
TPIERE often happens to us in common life
what, in an epic poem, we are accustomed
to praise as a stroke of art in the poet; namely,
that when the chief figures go off the scene,
conceal themselves or retire into inactivity,
some other or others, whom hitherto we have
scarcely observed, come forward and fill their !
places. And these putting out all their force,
at once fix our attention and sympathy on
themselves, and earn our praise and admiration.
Thus, after the captain and Edward were
gone, the architect, of whom we have spoken,
appeared every day a more important person.
The ordering and executing of a number of
undertakings depended entirely upon him,
and he proved himself thoroughly understand- j
ing and businesslike in the style in which he
went to work; while in a number of other
ways he was able also to make himself of
assistance to the ladies, and find amusement
for their weary hours. His outward air and
appearance were of the kind which win con-
fidence and awake affeCtion. A youth in the
full sense of the word, well-formed, tall, per-
haps a little too stout; modest without being
timid, and easy without being obtrusive, there
was no work and no trouble which he was not
delighted to take upon himself; and as he
298
could keep accounts with great facility, the
whole economy of the household soon was no
secret to him, and everywhere his salutary
influence made itself felt. Any stranger who
came he was commonly set to entertain, and
he was skilful either at declining unexpected
visits, or at least so far preparing the ladies
for them as to spare them any disagreeableness.
Among others, he had one day no little
trouble with a young lawyer, who had been
sent by a neighboring nobleman to speak
about a matter which, although of no par-
ticular moment, yet touched Charlotte to the
quick. We have to mention this incident be-
cause it gave occasion for a number of things
which otherwise might perhaps have remained
long untouched.
We remember certain alterations which Char-
lotte had made in the churchyard. The entire
body of the monuments had been removed
from their places, and had been ranged along
the walls of the church, leaning against the
string-course. The remaining space had been
levelled, except a broad walk which led up to
the church, and past it to the opposite gate;
and it had been all sown with various kinds
of trefoil, which had shot up and flowered
most beautifully.
The new graves were to follow one after
another in a regular order from the end, but


the spot on each occasion was to be carefully '
smoothed over and again sown. No one could
deny that on Sundays and holidays when the
people went to church the change had given
it a most cheerful and pleasant appearance.
At the same time the clergyman, an old man
and clinging to old customs, who at first had
not been especially pleased with the alteration,
had become thoroughly delighted with it, all
the more because when he sat out like Phile- 1
mon with his Baucis under the old linden trees
at his back door, instead of the humps and
mounds he had a beautiful clean lawn to look
out upon; and which, moreover, Charlotte j
having secured the use of the spot to the par-
sonage, was no little convenience to his house-
hold. !
Notwithstanding this, however, many mem- j
bers of the congregation had been displeased
that the means of marking the spots where
their forefathers rested had been removed,
and all memorials of them thereby obliterated.
However well preserved the monuments might
be, they could only show who had been buried,
but not where he had been buried, and the
where, as many maintained, was everything.
Of this opinion was a family in the neighbor-
hood, who for many years had been in possession
of a considerable vault for a general resting-
place of themselves and their relations, and
in consequence had settled a small annual
sum for the use of the church. And now this
young lawyer had been sent to cancel this
settlement, and to show that his client did not
intend to pay it any more, because the condi-
tion under which it had been hitherto made
had not been observed by the other party,
and no regard had been paid to objection and
remonstrance. Charlotte, who was the origi-
nator of the alteration herself, chose to speak
to the young man, who in a decided, though
not a violent manner, laid down the grounds
on which his client proceeded, and gave occa-
sion in what he said for much serious reflection.
You see, he said, after a slight introduc-
tion, in which he sought to justify his peremp-
toriness; you see, it is right for the lowest
as well as for the highest to mark the spot
which holds those who are dearest to him.
The poorest peasant, who buries a child, finds
it some consolation to plant a light wooden
cross upon the grave, and hang a garland
upon it, to keep alive the memorial, at least
as long as the sorrow remains; although such
a mark, like the mourning, will pass away
with time. Those better off change the cross
of wood into iron, and fix it down and guard
it in various ways; and here we have endur-
ance for many years. But because this too
will sink at last, and become invisible, those
who are able to bear the expense see nothing
fitter than to raise a stone which shall promise
to endure for generations, and which can be
restored and made fresh again by posterity.
Yet this stone it is not which attracts us; it is
that which is contained beneath it, which is
intrusted, where it stands, to the earth. It is
not the memorial so much of which we speak,
as of the person himself; not of what once
was, but of what is. Far better, far more
closely, can I embrace some dear departed
one in the mound which rises over his bed,
than in a monumental writing which only tells
us that once he was. In itself, indeed, it is
but little; but around it, as around a central
mark, the wife, the husband, the kinsman, the
friend, after their departure, shall gather in
again; and the living shall have the right to
keep far off all strangers and evil-wishers from
the side of the dear one who is sleeping there.
And, therefore, I hold it quite fair and
fitting that my principal shall withdraw his
grant to you. It is, indeed, but too reason-
able that he should do it, for the members of
his family are injured in a way for which no
compensation could be even proposed. They
are deprived of the sad sweet feelings of lay-
ing offerings on the remains of their dead, and
of the one comfort in their sorrow of one day
lying down at their side.
The matter is not of that importance.
Charlotte answered, that we should disquiet
ourselves about it with the vexation of a law-
suit. I regret so little what I have done, that
I will gladly myself indemnify the church for
what it loses through you. Only I must con-
fess candidly to you, your arguments have not
convinced me; the pure feeling of an universal
equality at last, after death, seems to me more
composing than this hard determined persist-
ence in our personalities and in the conditions
and circumstances of our lives. What do you
say to it? she added, turning to the architect.
It is not for me, replied he, either to
argue, or to attempt to judge in such a case.
Let me venture, however, to say what my own
art and my own habits of thinking suggest to
me. Since we are no longer so happy as to be
able to press to our breasts the in-urned re-
mains of those we have loved, since we are
neither wealthy enough, nor of cheerful heart
enough to preserve them undecayed in large
299


elaborate sarcophagi; since, indeed, we cannot
even find place any more for ourselves and
ours in the churches, and are banished out
into the open air, we all, I think, ought to ap-
prove the method which you, my gracious
lady, have introduced. If the members of a
common congregation are laid out side by
side, they are resting by the side of, and
among their kindred; and, if the earth be
once to receive us all, I can find nothing
more natural or more desirable than that the
mounds, which, if they are thrown up, are
sure to sink slowly in again together, should
be smoothed off at once, and the covering,
which all bear alike, will press lighter upon
each.
And is it all, is it all to pass away, said
Ottilie, without one token of remembrance,
without anything to call back the past?
By no means, continued the architect;
it is not from remembrance, it is from place
that men should be set free. The architect,
the sculptor, are highly interested that men
should look to their artto their hand, for a
continuance of their being; and, therefore, I
should wish to see well-designed, well-exe-
cuted monuments; not sown up and down by
themselves at random, but eredted all in a
single spot, where they can promise themselves
endurance. Inasmuch as even the good and
the great are contented to surrender the priv-
ilege of resting in person in the churches, we
may, at least, eredt there or in some fair hall
near the burying-place, either monuments or
monumental writings. A thousand forms
might be suggested for them, and a thousand
ornaments with which they might be decor-
ated.
If the artists are so rich, replied Char-
lotte, then tell me how it is that they are
never able to escape from little obelisks, dwarf
pillars, and urns for ashes? Instead of your
thousand forms of which you boast, I have
never seen anything but a thousand repeti-
tions.
It is very generally so with us, returned
the architect, but it is not universal; and
very likely the right taste and the proper
application of it may be a peculiar art. In
this case especially we have this great diffi-
culty, that the monument must be something
cheerful and yet commemorate a solemn sub-
jedt; while its matter is melancholy, it must
not itself be melancholy. As regards designs
for monuments of all kinds, I have collected
numbers of them, and I will take some oppor-
tunity of showing them to you: but at all
times the fairest memorial of a man remains
some likeness of himself. This, better than
anything else, will give a notion of what he
was; it is the best text for many or for few
notes, only it ought to be made when he is at
his best age, and that is generally neglected;
no one thinks of preserving forms while they
are alive, and if it is done at all, it is done
carelessly and incompletely: and then comes
death; a cast is taken swiftly off the face;
this mask is set upon a block of stone, and
that is what is called a bust. How seldom is
the artist in a position to put any real life into
such things as these !
You have contrived, said Charlotte,
without perhaps knowing it or wishing it, to
lead the conversation altogether in my favor.
The likeness of a man is quite independent;
everywhere that it stands, it stands for itself,
and we do not require it to mark the site of a
particular grave. But I must acknowledge to
you to having a strange feeling; even to like-
nesses I have a kind of disinclination. When-
ever I see them they seem to be silently
reproaching me. They point to something
far away from us,gone from us; and they
remind me how difficult it is to pay right
honor to the present. If we think how many
people we have seen and known, and consider
how little we have been to them and how little
they have been to us, it is no very pleasant re-
flection. We have met a man of genius with-
out having enjoyed much with him,a learned
man without having learned from him,a
traveller without having been instructed,a
man to love without having shown him any
kindness.
And, unhappily, this is not the case only
with accidental meetings. Societies and fam-
ilies behave in the same way towards their
dearest members, towns towards their worthi-
est citizens, people towards their most admir-
able princes, nations towards their most
distinguished men.
I have heard it asked why we heard
nothing but good spoken of the dead, while
of the living it is never without some excep-
tion. It should be answered, because from
the former we have nothing any more to fear,
while the latter may still, here or there, fall
in our way. So unreal is our anxiety to pre-
serve the memory of others,generally no
more than a mere selfish amusement; and
the real, holy, earnest feeling, would be what
should prompt us to be more diligent and
3


assiduous in our attentions toward those who
still are left to us.
CHAPTER II.
Under the stimulus of this accident, and
of the conversations which arose out of it,
they went the following day to look over the
burying-place, for the ornamenting of which
and relieving it in some degree of its sombre
look, the architect made many a happy pro-
posal. His interest too had to extend itself
to the church as well; a building which had
caught his attention from the moment of his
arrival.
It had been standing for many centuries,
built in old German style, the proportions
good, the decorating elaborate and excellent;
and one might easily gather that the architedt
of the neighboring monastery had left the
stamp of his art and of his love on this
smaller building also; it worked on the be-
holder with a solemnity and a sweetness, al-
though the change in its internal arrangements
for the Protestant service, had taken from it
something of its repose and majesty.
The architect found no great difficulty in
prevailing on Charlotte to give him a con-
siderable sum of money to restore it exter-
nally and internally, in the original spirit,
and thus, as he thought, to bring it into har-
mony with the resurrection-field which lay in
front of it. He had himself much practical
skill, and a few laborers, who were still busy
at the lodge, might easily be kept together,
until this pious work. too should be com-
pleted.
The building itself, therefore, with all its
environs, and whatever was attached to it, was
now carefully and thoroughly examined; and
576
30 x


then showed itself, to the greatest surprise and j
delight of the architect, a little side chapel, j
which nobody had thought of, beautifully and !
delicately proportioned, and displaying still ,
greater care and pains in its decoration. It j
contained at the same time many remnants,
carved and painted, of the implements used
in the old services, when the different festivals
were distinguished by a variety of pictures
and ceremonies, and each was celebrated in
its own peculiar style.
It was impossible for him not at once to
take this chapel into his plan; and he deter-
mined to bestow especial pains on the re-
storing of this little spot, as a memorial of
old times, and of their taste. He saw exactly
how he would like to have the vacant surfaces
of the walls ornamented, and delighted him-
self with the prospeCt, of exercising his talent
for painting upon them; but of this, at first,
he made a secret to the rest of the party.
Before doing anything else, he fulfilled his
promise of showing the ladies the various
imitations of, and designs from, old monu-
ments, vases and other such things which he
had made; and when they came to speak of
the simple barrow-sepulchres of the northern
nations, he brought a collection of weapons
and implements which had been found in
them. He had got them exceedingly nicely
and conveniently arranged in drawers and
compartments, laid on boards cut to fit them,
and covered over with cloth; so that these
solemn old things, in the way he treated them,
had a smart dressy appearance, and it was
like looking into the box of a trinket mer-
chant.
Having once begun to show his curiosities,
and finding them prove serviceable to enter-
tain our friends in their loneliness, every even-
ing he would produce one or other of his
treasures. They were most of them of Ger-
man originpieces of metal, old coins, seals
and such like. All these things directed the
imagination back upon old times; and when
at last they came to amuse themselves with
the first specimens of printing, woodcuts, and
the earliest copper-plate engraving, and when
the church, in the same spirit, was growing
out, every day, more and more in form and
color like the past, they had almost to ask
themselves whether they really were living in
a modern time, whether it were not a dream,
that manners, customs, modes of life, and
convictions were all really so changed.
After such preparation, a great portfolio,
which at last he produced, had the best possi-
ble effeCt. It contained indeed principally
only outlines and figures, but as these had
been traced upon original pictures, they re-
tained perfectly their ancient character, and
most captivating indeed this character was to
the spectators. All the figures breathed only
the purest feeling; every one, if not noble, at
any rate was good; cheerful composure, ready
recognition of One above us, to whom all
reverence is due; silent devotion, in love and
tranquil expectation, was expressed on every
face, on every gesture. The old bald-headed
man, the curly-pated boy, the light-hearted
youth, the earnest man, the glorified saint,
the angel hovering in the air, all seemed
happy in an innocent, satisfied, pious expec-
tation. The commonest objeCt had a trait of
celestial life; and every nature seemed adapted
to the service of God, and to be, in someway
or other, employed upon it.
Towards such a region most of them gazed
as towards a vanished golden age, or on some
lost paradise; only perhaps Ottilie had a
chance of finding herself among beings of
her own nature. Who could offer any op-
position when the architect asked to be al-
lowed to paint the spaces between the arches
and the walls of the chapel in the style of
these old pictures, and thereby leave his own
distinCt memorial at a place where life had
gone so pleasantly with him?
He spoke of it with some sadness, for he
could see, in the state in which things were,
that his sojourn in such delightful society
could not last forever; indeed, that perhaps
it would now soon be ended.
For the rest, these days were not rich in
incidents; yet full of occasion for serious
entertainment. We therefore take the oppor-
tunity of communicating something of the
remarks which Ottilie noted down among her
manuscripts, to which we cannot find a fitter
transition than through a simile which sug-
gested itself to us on contemplating her ex-
quisite pages.
There is, we are told, a curious contrivance
in the service of the English marine. The
ropes in use in the royal navy, from the largest
to the smallest, are so twisted that a red thread
runs through them from end to end, which
cannot be extracted without undoing the
whole; and by which the smallest pieces may
be recognized as belonging to the crown.
Just so is there drawn through Ottilies
diary, a thread of attachment and affeCtion
302


which connedts it all together, and charadter- ]
izes the whole. And thus these remarks, these j
observations, these extradled sentences, and
whatever else it may contain, were, to the
writer, of peculiar meaning. Even the few
separate pieces which we select and transcribe
will sufficiently explain our meaning.
FROM OTTILIEs DIARY.
To rest hereafter at the side of those
whom we love is the most delightful thought
which man can have when once he looks out
beyond the boundary of life. What a sweet
expression is thatHe was gathered to his
fathers!
Of the various memorials and tokens
which bring nearer to us the distant and the
separatednone is so satisfactory as a picture.
To sit and talk to a beloved picture, even
though it be unlike, has a charm in it, like
the charm which there sometimes is in quarrel-
ling with a friend. We feel, in a strange
sweet way, that we are divided and yet cannot
separate.
We entertain ourselves often with a present
person as with a picture. He need not speak
to us, he need not look at us, or take any
notice of us; we look at him, we feel the
relation in which we stand to him; such
relation can even grow without his doing any-
thing towards it, without his having any feel-
ing of it: he is to us exactly as a picture.
One is never satisfied with a portrait of a
person that one knows. I have always felt
for the portrait-painter on this account. One
so seldom requires of people what is im-
possible, and of them we do really require
what is impossible; they must gather up into
their picture the relation of everybody to its j
subject, all their likings and all dislikings;
they must not only paint a man as they see
him, but as everyone else sees him. It does
not surprise me if such artists become by de- j
grees stunted, indifferent, and of but one idea;
and indeed it would not matter what came of
it, if it were not that in consequence we have
to go without the pictures of so many persons
near and dear to us.
It is too true, the architects collection of
weapons and old implements, which were
found with the bodies of their owners, covered
in with great hills of earth and rock, proves
to us how useless is mans so great anxiety to
preserve his personality after he is dead; and
so inconsistent people are! the architect con-
fesses to have himself opened these barrows
of his forefathers, and yet goes on occupying
himself with memorials for posterity.
But after all why should we take it so
much to heart? Is all that we do, done for
eternity? Do we not put on our dress in the
morning, to throw it off again at night? Do
we not go abroad to return home again? And
why should we not wish to rest by the side of
our friends, though it were but for a century?
When we see the many grave-stones which
have fallen in, which have been defaced by
the footsteps of the congregation, which lie
buried under the ruins of the churches, that
have themselves crumbled together over them,
we may fancy the life after death to be as a
second life, into which a man enters in the
figure, or the picture, or the inscription, and
lives longer there than when he was really
alive. But this figure also, this second exist-
ence, dies out too, sooner or later. Time
will not allow himself to be cheated of his
rights with the monuments of men or with
themselves.
CHAPTER III.
It causes us so agreeable a sensation to
occupy ourselves with what we can only half
do, that no person ought to find fault with the
dilettante, when he is spending his time over
an art which he can never learn; nor blame
the artist if he chooses to pass out over the
border of his own art, and amuse himself in
some neighboring field. With such compla-
cency of feeling we regard the preparation of
the architect for the painting the chapel. The
colors were got ready, the measurements taken;
the cartoons designed. He had made no at-
tempt at originality, but kept close to his out-
lines; his only care was to make a proper
distribution of the sitting and floating figures,
so as tastefully to ornament his space with
them.
The scaffoldings were ereCted. The work,
went forward; and as soon as anything had
been done on which the eye could rest, he
could have no objection to Charlotte and
Ottilie coming to see how he was getting on.
The life-like faces of the angels, their robes
33


waving against the blue sky-ground, delighted
the eye, while their still and holy air calmed
and composed the spirit, and produced the
most delicate effedt.
The ladies ascended the scaffolding to him,
and Ottilie had scarcely observed how easily
and regularly the work was being done, than
the power which had been fostered in her by
her early education at once appeared to de-
velop. She took a brush, and with a few
words of direction, painted a richly folding
robe, with as much delicacy as skill.
Charlotte, who was always glad when Ottilie
would occupy or amuse herself with anything,
left them both in the chapel, and went to fol-
low the train of her own thoughts, and work
her way for herself through her cares and
anxieties which she was unable to communi-
cate to a creature.
When ordinary men allow themselves to be
worked up by common every-day difficulties
into fever-fits of passion, we can give them
nothing but a compassionate smile. But we
look with a kind of awe on a spirit in which
the seed of a great destiny has been sown,
which must abide the unfolding of the germ,
and neither dare nor can do anything to pre-
cipitate either the good or the ill, either the
304


happiness or the misery, which is to arise out
of it.
Edward had sent an answer by Charlottes
messenger, who had come to him in his soli-
tude. It was written with kindness and in-
terest, but it was rather composed and serious
than warm and affectionate. He had vanished
almost immediately after, and Charlotte could
learn no news about him; till at last she acci-
dentally found his name in the newspaper,
where he was mentioned with honor among
those who had most distinguished themselves
in a late important engagement. She now
understood the method which he had taken;
she perceived that he had escaped from great
danger; only she was convinced at the same
time that he would seek out greater; and it
was all too clear to her that in every sense he
would hardly be withheld from any extremity.
She had to bear about this perpetual anxiety
in her thoughts, and turn which way she would,
there was no light in which she could look at
it that would give her comfort.
Ottilie, never dreaming of anything of this,
had taken to the work in the chapel with the
greatest interest, and she had easily obtained
Charlottes permission to go on with it regu-
larly. So now all went swiftly forward, and
the azure heaven was soon peopled with
worthy inhabitants. By continual practice
both Ottilie and the architect had gained
more freedom with the last figures; they be-
came perceptibly better. The faces, too,
which had been all left to the architect to
paint, showed by degrees a very singular
peculiarity. They began all of them to re-
semble Ottilie. The neighborhood of the
beautiful girl had made so strong an impression
on the soul of the young man, who had no
variety of faces preconceived in his mind, that
by degrees, on the way from the eye to the
hand, nothing was lost, and both worked in
exadt harmony together. Enough; one of
the last faces succeeded perfectly; so that it
seemed as if Ottilie herself was looking down
out of the spaces of the sky.
They had finished with the arching of the
ceiling. The walls they proposed to leave
plain, and only to cover them over with a
bright brown color. The delicate pillars and
the quaintly-moulded ornaments were to be
distinguished from them by a dark shade.
But as in such things one thing ever leads on
to another, they determined at least on hav-
ing festoons of flowers and fruit, which should
as it were unite together heaven and earth.
| Here Ottilie was in her element. The gar-
! dens provided the most perfedt patterns; and
| although the wreaths were as rich as they
could make them, it was all finished sooner
than they had supposed possible.
It was still looking rough and disorderly.
The scaffolding poles had been run together,
the planks thrown one on the top of the
other; the uneven pavement was yet more
: disfigured by the particolored stains of the
! paint which had been spilled over it.
The architedt begged that the ladies would
| give him a week to himself, and during that
! time would not enter the chapel; at the end
of it, one fine evening, he came to them, and
begged them both to go and see it. He did
not wish to accompany them, he said, and at
once took his leave.
Whatever surprise he may have designed
for us, said Charlotte, as soon as he was
gone, I cannot myself just now go down
there. You can go by yourself, and tell me
all about it. No doubt he has been doing
something which we shall like. I will enjoy
it first in your description, and afterwards it
| will be the more charming in the reality.
| Ottilie, who knew well that in many cases
Charlotte took care to avoid everything which
could produce emotion, and particularly dis-
liked to be surprised, set off down the walk
by herself, and looked round involuntarily for
the architedt, who however was nowhere to be
seen, and must have concealed himself some-
where. She walked into the church, which
she found open. This had been finished be-
fore ; it had been cleaned up, and service had
been performed in it. She went on to the
chapel door; its heavy mass, all overlaid with
iron, yielded easily to her touch, and she
found an unexpedted sight in a familiar spot.
A solemn beautiful light streamed in through
the one tall window. It was filled with stained
glass, gracefully put together. The entire
chapel had thus received a strange tone, and
a peculiar genius was thrown over it. The
beauty of the vaulted ceiling and the walls was
set off by the elegance of the pavement,
which was composed of peculiarly shaped
tiles, fastened together with gypsum, and
forming exquisite patterns as they lay. This
and the colored glass for the windows the
architedt had prepared without their knowl-
edge, and a short time was sufficient to have
it put in its place.
Seats had been provided as well. Among
the relics of the old church some finely carved
577
305


chancel chairs had been discovered, which
now were standing about at convenient places
along the walls.
The parts which she knew so well now
meeting her as an unfamiliar whole, delighted
Ottilie. She stood still, walked up and down,
looked and looked again; at last she seated
herself in one of the chairs, and it seemed,
as she gazed up and down, as if she was, and
yet was notas if she felt and did not feel
as if all this would vanish from before her,
and she would vanish from herself; and it was
only when the sun left the window, on which
before it had been shining full, that she awoke
to possession of herself, and hastened back to
the castle.
She did not hide from herself the strange
epoch at which this surprise had occurred to
her. It was the evening of Edwards birth-
day. Very differently she had hoped to keep
it. How was not everything to be dressed
out for this festival? and now all the splendor
of the autumn flowers remained ungathered.
Those sunflowers still turned their faces to the
sky; those asters still looked out with quiet,
modest eye; and whatever of them all had
been wound into wreaths had served as pat-
terns for the decorating a spot which, if it was
not to remain a mere artists fancy, was only
adapted as a general mausoleum.
And then she had to remember the
impetuous eagerness with which Ed-
ward had kept her birthday-feast.
She thought of the newly-eredted
lodge, under the roof of which they
had promised themselves so much
enjoyment. The fireworks flashed
and hissed again before her eyes and
ears; the more lonely she was, the
more keenly her imagination brought
it all before her. But she felt her-
self only the more alone. She no
longer leaned upon his arm, and she
had no hope ever any more to rest
herself upon it.
FROM OTTILIES DIARY.
I have been struck with an ob-
servation of the young architect.
In the case of the creative artist,
as in that of the artisan, it is clear
that man is least permitted to appro-
priate to himself what is most entirely
his own. His works forsake him as
the birds forsake the nest in which
they were hatched.
The fate of the architect is the
strangest of all in this way. How
often he expends his whole soul, his
whole heart and passion, to produce
buildings into which he himself may
never enter. The halls of kings owe
their magnificence to him; but he
has no enjoyment of them in their
splendor. In the temple he draws a
partition line between himself and the Holy
of Holies; he may never more set his foot
upon the steps which he has laid down for the
heart-thrilling ceremonial; as the goldsmith
may only adore from far off the monstrance
whose enamel and whose jewels he has himself
set together. The builder surrenders to the
rich man, with the key of his palace, all
pleasure and all right there, and never shares
with him in the enjoyment of it. And must
36


not art in this way, step by step, draw off
from the artist, when the work, like a child
who is provided for, has no more to fall back
upon its father? And what a power there
must be in art itself, for its own self-advancing,
when it has been obliged to shape itself al-
most solely out of what was open to all, only
out of what was the property of everyone, and
therefore also of the artist!
There is a conception among old nations
which is awful, and may almost seem terrible.
They pictured their forefathers to themselves
sitting round on thrones, in enormous caverns,
in silent converse; when a new-comer entered,
if he were worthy enough, they rose up, and
inclined their heads to welcome him. Yes-
terday, as I was sitting in the chapel, and
other carved chairs stood round like that in
which I was, the thought of this came over
me with a soft, pleasant feeling. Why cannot
you stay sitting here? I said to myself; stay
here sitting meditating with yourself long,
long, long, till at last your friends come, and
you rise up to them, and with a gentle incli-
nation diredl them to their places. The col-
ored window panes convert the day into a
solemn twilight; and some one should set up
for us an ever-burning lamp, that the night
might not be utter darkness.
We may imagine ourselves in what situa-
tion we please, we always conceive ourselves
as seeing. I believe men only dream that
they may not cease to see. Some day, per-
haps, the inner light will come out from
within us, and we shall not any more require
another.
The year dies away, the wind sweeps over
the stubble, and there is nothing left to stir
under its touch. But the red berries on yon-
der tall tree seem as if they would still remind
us of brighter things; and the stroke of the
thrashers flail awakes the thought how much
of nourishment and life lies buried in the
sickled ear.
CHAPTER IV.
How strangely, after all this, with the sense
so vividly impressed on her of mutability and
perishableness, must Ottilie have been affedted
by the news which could not any longer be
kept concealed from her, that Edward had
exposed himself to the uncertain chances of
war! Unhappily, none of the observations
which she had occasion to make upon it
escaped her. But it is well for us that man
can only endure a certain degree of unhappi-
ness ; what is beyond that, either annihilates
him, or passes by him, and leaves him apathetic.
There are situations in which hope and fear
run together, in which they mutually destroy
one another, and lose themselves in a dull in-
difference. If it were not so, how could we
bear to know of those who are most dear to
us being in hourly peril, and yet go on as
usual with our ordinary everyday life ?
It was therefore as if some good genius was
caring for Ottilie, that, all at once, this still-
ness, in which she seemed to be sinking from
loneliness and want of occupation, was sud-
denly invaded by a wild army, which, while
it gave her externally abundance of employ-
ment, and so took her out of herself, at the
same time awoke in her the consciousness of
her own power.
Charlottes daughter, Luciana, had scarcely
left the school and gone out into the great
world; scarcely had she found herself at her
aunts house in the midst of a large society,
than her anxiety to please produced its effect
in really pleasing; and a young, very wealthy
man, soon experienced a passionate desire to
make her his own. His large property gave
him a right to have the best of everything for
his use, and nothing seemed to be wanting to
him except a perfedt wife, for whom, as for
the rest of his good fortune, he should be the
envy of the world.
This incident in her family had been for
some time occupying Charlotte. It had en-
gaged all her attention, and taken up her
whole correspondence, except so far as this
was diredled to the obtaining news of Edward;
so that latterly Ottilie had been left more than
was usual to herself. She knew, indeed, of
an intended visit from Luciana. She had
been making various changes and arrange-
ments in the house in preparation for it; but
she had no notion that it was so near. Letters,
she supposed, would first have to pass, settling
the time, and then unsettling it; and then a
final fixing: when the storm broke suddenly
over the castle and over herself.
Up drove, first, ladys maids and men-ser-
vants, their carriage loaded with trunks and
boxes. The household was already swelled to
double or to treble its size, and then appeared
the visitors themselves. There was the great
aunt, with Luciana and some of her friends;
37




Elective Affinities.

and then the bridegroom with some of his
friends. The entrance-hall was full of things
bags, portmanteaus, and leather articles of
every sort. The boxes had to be got out of
their covers, and that was infinite trouble;
and of luggage and of rummage there was
no end. At intervals, moreover, there were
violent showers, giving rise to much incon-
venience. Ottilie encountered all this con-
fusion with the easiest equanimity, and her
happy talent showed in its fairest light. In a
very little time she had brought things to
order, and disposed of them. Every one
found his room,every one had his things
exactly as he wished, and all thought them-
she had on, or what her shoes were like, she
must go and see the grounds of which she had
heard so much; what could not be done on
horseback she ran through on foot. In a
little while she had seen everything, and given
her opinion about everything; and with such
rapidity of character it was not easy to con-
tradidl or oppose her. The whole household
had much to suffer, but most particularly the
ladys maids, who were at work from morning
to night, washing, and ironing, and stitching.
As soon as she had exhausted the house and
the park, she thought it was her duty to pay
visits all round the neighborhood. As they
rode and drove very fast, all round the neigh-
selves well attended to, because they were not
prevented from attending on themselves.
The journey had been long and fatiguing,
and they would all have been glad of a little
rest after it. The bridegroom would have
liked to pay his respedts to his mother-in-law,
express his pleasure, his gratitude, and so on.
But Luciana could not rest. She had now
arrived at the happiness of being able to
mount a horse. The bridegroom had beauti-
ful horses, and mount they must on the spot.
Clouds and wind, rain and storm, they were
nothing to Luciana, and now it was as if they
only lived to get wet through, and to dry them-
selves again. If she took a fancy to go out
walking, she never thought what sort of dress
38
borhood was a considerable distance. The
castle was flooded with return visits, and that
they might not miss one another, it soon came
to days being fixed for them.
Charlotte, in the meantime, with her aunt,
and the man of business of the bridegroom,
were occupied in determining about the settle-
ments, and it was left to Ottilie, with those
under her, to take care that all this crowd of
people were properly provided for. Game-
keepers and gardeners, fishermen and shop-
dealers were set in motion, Luciana always
showing herself like the blazing nucleus of a
comet with its long tail trailing behind it.
The ordinary amusements of the parties soon
became too insipid for her taste. Hardly


artist: p. crotjohann.
LUCIAN A AS ARTEMESIA.


would she leave the old people in peace at the
card-table. Whoever could by any means be
set moving (and who could resist the charm
of being pressed by her into service?) must
up, if not to dance, then to play at forfeits,
or some other game, where they were to be
vidtimized and tormented. Notwithstanding
all that, however, and although afterwards the
redemption of the forfeits had to be settled
with herself, yet of those who played with her,
never anyone, especially never any man, let
him be of what sort he would, went quite
empty-handed away. Indeed, some old people
of rank who were there she succeeded in com-
pletely winning over to herself, by having con-
trived to find out their birthdays or christening
days, and marking them with some particular
celebration. In all this she showed a skill not
a little remarkable. Every one saw himself
favored, and each considered himself to be
the one most favored, a weakness of which
the oldest person of the party was the most
notably guilty.
It seemed to be a sort of pride with her,
that men who had anything remarkable about
them rank, character, or fameshe must
and would gain for herself. Gravity and
seriousness she made give way to her, and,
wild strange creature as she was, she found
favor even with discretion itself. Not that
the young were at all cut short in consequence.
Everybody had his share, his day, his hour, in
which she contrived to charm and to enchain
him. It was therefore natural enough that
before long she should have had the architect
in her eye, looking out so unconsciously as he
did from under his long black hair, and stand-
ing so calm and quiet in the background. To
all her questions she received short sensible
answers; but he did not seem inclined to
allow himself to be carried away further, and
at last, half provoked, half in malice, she re-
solved that she would make him the hero of a
day, and so gain him for her court.
It was not for nothing that she had brought
that quantity of luggage with her. Much, in-
deed, had followed her afterwards. She had
provided herself with an endless variety of
dresses. When it took her fancy she would
change her dress three or four times a day,
usually wearing something of an ordinary
kind, but making her appearance suddenly at
intervals in a thorough masquerade dress, as a
peasant girl or a fish maiden, as a fairy or a
flower-girl; and this would go on from morn-
ing till night. Sometimes she would even
disguise herself as an old woman, that her
young face might peep out the fresher from
under the cap; and so utterly in this way did
she confuse and mix together the adtual and
the fantastic, that people thought they were
living with a sort of drawing-room witch.
But the principal use which she had for
these disguises were pantomimic tableaux and
dances, in which she was skilful in expressing
a variety of character. A cavalier in her
suite had taught himself to accompany her
action on the piano with the little music which
was required; they needed only to exchange
a few words and they at once understood one
: another.
One day, in a pause of a brilliant ball, they
were called upon suddenly to extemporize (it
was on a private hint from themselves) one of
these exhibitions. Luciana seemed embar-
i rassed, taken by surprise, and contrary to her
J custom let herself be asked more than once.
| She could not decide upon her character, de-
j sired the party to choose, and asked, like an
j improvisatore, for a subjedt. At last her
| piano-playing companion, with whom it had
| been all previously arranged, sat down at the
j instrument, and began to play a mourning
march, calling on her to give them the Arte-
misia which she had been studying so admir-
ably. She consented; and after a short
absence reappeared, to the sad tender music
of the dead march, in the form of the royal
widow, with measured step, carrying an urn
of ashes before her. A large black tablet was
borne in after her, and a carefully cut piece
of chalk in a gold pencil case.
One of her adorers and adjutants, into whose
ear she whispered something, went diredtly to
call the architect, to desire him, and if he
would not come to drag him up, as master-
builder, to draw the grave for the mausoleum,
and to tell him at the same time that he was
not to play the statist, but enter earnestly into
his part as one of the performers.
Embarrassed as the architect outwardly ap-
peared (for in his black, closefitting, modern
civilians dress, he formed a wonderful con-
j trast with the gauze crape fringes, tinsel tassels,
j and crown), he very soon composed himself
j internally, and the scene became all the more
I strange. With the greatest gravity he placed
! himself in front of the tablet, which was sup-
ported by a couple of pages, and drew care-
fully an elaborate tomb, which indeed would
have suited better a Lombard than a Carian
; prince; but it was in such beautiful propor-
5-73
309


tions, so solemn in its parts, so full of genius
in its decoration, that the spectators watched
it growing with delight, and wondered at it
when it was finished.
All this time he had not once turned to-
wards the queen, but had given his whole
attention to what he was doing. At last he
inclined his head before her, and signified
that he believed he had now fulfilled her
commands. She held the urn out to him,
expressing her desire to see it represented on
the top of the monument. He complied,
although unwillingly, as it would not suit the
character of the rest of his design. Luciana
was now at last released from her impatience.
Her intention had been by no means to get a
scientific drawing out of him. If he had
only made a few strokes, sketched out some-
thing which should have looked like a monu-
ment, and devoted the rest of his time to
her, it would have been far more what she
had wished, and would have pleased her a
great deal better. His manner of proceeding
had thrown her into the greatest embarrass-
ment. For although in her sorrow, in her
directions, in her gestures, in her approbation
of the work as it slowly rose before her, she
had tried to manage some sort of change of
expression, and although she had hung about
close to him, only to place herself in some
sort of relation to him, yet he had kept him-
self throughout too stiff, so that too often she
had been driven to take refuge with her urn;
she had to press it to her heart and look up to
heaven, and at last, a situation of that kind i
having a necessary tendency to intensify, she
made herself more like a widow of Ephesus
than a Queen of Caria. The representation
had to lengthen itself out and became tedi-
ous. The pianoforte player, who had usually
patience enough, did not know into what j
tune he could escape. He thanked God
when he saw the urn standing on the pyramid,
and fell involuntarily as the queen was going
to express her gratitude, into a merry air; by
which the whole thing lost its character, the
company however being thoroughly cheered
up by it, who forthwith divided, some going
up to express their delight and admiration of
the lady for her excellent performance, and
some praising the architect for his most artist-
like and beautiful drawing.
The bridegroom especially paid marked
attention to the architect. I am vexed,
he said, that the drawing should be so
perishable; you will permit me however to
have it taken to my room, where I should
much like to talk to you about it.
If it would give you any pleasure, said
the architect, I can lay before you a number
of highly finished designs for buildings and
monuments of this kind, of which this is but
a mere hasty sketch.
Ottilie was standing at no great distance,
and went up to them. Do not forget, she
said to the architect, to take an opportunity
of letting the baron see your collection. He
is a friend of art and of antiquity. I should
like you to become better acquainted.
Luciana was passing at the moment. What
are they speaking of? she asked.
Of a collection of works of art, replied
the baron, which this gentleman possesses,
and which he is good enough to say that he
will show us.
Oh, let him bring them immediately,
cried Luciana; you will bring them, will you
not? she added, in a soft and sweet tone,
taking both his hands in hers.
The present is scarcely a fitting time,
the architect answered.
What! Luciana cried, in a tone of au-
thority; you will not obey the command of
your queen! and then she begged him again
with some piece of absurdity.
Do not be obstinate, said Ottilie, in a
scarcely audible voice.
The architect left them with a bow, which
said neither yes nor no.
He was hardly gone, when Luciana was fly-
ing up and down the saloon with a greyhound.
Alas! she exclaimed, as she ran accident-
ally against her mother, am I not an unfor-
tunate creature? I have not brought my
monkey with me. They told me I had better
not; but I am sure it was nothing but the
laziness of my people, and it is such a delight
to me. But I will have it brought after me;
somebody shall go and fetch it. If I could
only see a picture of the dear creature, it
would be a comfort to me; I certainly will
have his picture taken, and it shall never be
out of my sight.
Perhaps I can comfort you, replied Char-;
lotte. There is a whole volume full of the
most wonderful ape faces in the library, which
you can have fetched if you like.
Luciana shrieked for joy. The great folio
was produced instantly. The sight of these
hideous creatures, so like to men, and with
the resemblance even more caricatured by the
artist, gave Luciana the greatest delight. Her
310


amusement with each of the animals was to
find some one of her acquaintance whom it
resembled. Is that not like my uncle? she !
remorselessly exclaimed; and here, look,
here is my milliner M., and here is Parson S., !
and here the image of that creature----------
bodily! After all, these monkeys are the real
incroyables, and it is inconceivable why they
are not admitted into the best society.
It was in the best society that she said this,
and yet no one took it ill of her. People had j
become accustomed to allow her so many
liberties in her prettinesses, that at last they j
came to allow them in what was unpretty. |
During this time, Ottilie was talking to the i
bridegroom; she was looking anxiously for j
the return of the architedl, whose serious and :
tasteful collection was to deliver the party
from the apes; and in the expedtation of it, |
she had made it the subjedt of her conver-
sation with the baron, and directed his atten-
tion on various things which he was to see.
But the architect stayed away, and when at
last he made his appearance, he lost himself
in the crowd, without having brought any-
thing with him, and without seeming as if he
had been asked for anything.
For a moment Ottilie becamewhat shall
we call it?annoyed, put out, perplexed.
She had been saying so much about himshe
had promised the bridegroom an hour of en-
joyment after his own heart; and with all the
depth of his love for Luciana, he was evidently
suffering from her present behavior.
The monkeys had to give place to a colla-
tion. Round games followed, and then more
dancing; at last, a general uneasy vacancy,
with fruitless attempts at resuscitating ex-
hausted amusements, which lasted this time,
as indeed they usually did, far beyond mid-
night. It had already become a habit with
Luciana to be never able to get out of bed in
the morning or into it at night.
About this time, the incidents noticed in
Ottilies diary become more rare, while we
find a larger number of maxims and sen-
tences drawn from life and relating to life.
It is not conceivable that the larger proportion
of these could have arisen from her own re-
flection, and most likely some one had shown
her varieties of them, and she had written out
what took her fancy. Many, however, with
an internal bearing, can be easily recognized
by the red thread.
FROM OTTILIES DIARY.
We like to look into the future, because
the undetermined in it, which may be affected
this or that way, we feel as if we could guide
by our silent wishes in our own favor.
We seldom find ourselves in a large party
without thinking, the accident which brings
so many here together should bring our
friends to us as well.
Let us live in as small a circle as we will,
we are either debtors or creditors before we
have had time to look round.
If we meet a person who is under an
obligation to us, we remember it immediately.
But how often may we meet people to whom
we are ourselves under obligation without its
even occurring to us!
It is nature to communicate ones self; it
is culture to receive what is communicated as
it is given.
No one would talk much in society, if he
only knew how often he misunderstands
others.
One alters so much what one has heard
from others in repeating it, only because one
has not understood it.
Whoever indulges long in monologue in
the presence of others, without flattering his
listeners, provokes ill-will.
Every word a man utters provokes the
opposite opinion.
Argument and flattery are but poor ele-
ments out of which to form a conversation.
The pleasantest society is when the mem-
bers of it have an easy and natural respedl
for one another.
There is nothing in which people more
betray their character than in what they find
to laugh at.
The ridiculous arises out of a moral con-
trast, in which two things are brought to-
gether before the mind in an innocent way.
311


Elective Affinities.
The foolisli man often laughs where there
is nothing to laugh at. Whatever touches
him, his inner nature comes to the surface.
The man of understanding finds almost
everything ridiculous; the man of thought
scarcely anything.
Some one found fault with an elderly man
for continuing to pay attention to young
ladies. £It is the only means, he replied,
of keeping ones self young, and everybody
likes to do that.
People will allow their faults to be shown
them; they will let themselves be punished
for them; they will patiently endure many
things because of them; they only become
impatient when they have to lay them aside.
Certain defeats are necessary for the exist-
ence of individuality. We should not be
pleased, if old friends were to lay aside cer-
tain peculiarities.
There is a saying, He will die soon,
when a man a<5ts unlike himself.
What kind of defedls may we bear with
and even cultivate in ourselves? Such as
rather give pleasure to others than injure
them.
The passions are defeats or excellencies
only in excess.
Our passions are true phoenixes: as the
old burn out, the new straight rise up out of
the ashes.
Violent passions are incurable diseases;
the means which will cure them are what first
make them thoroughly dangerous.
Passion is both raised and softened by
confession. In nothing, perhaps, were the
middle way more desirable than in knowing
what to say and what not to say to those we
love.
CHAPTER V.
So swept on Luciana in the social whirlpool,
driving the rush of life along before her. Her
court multiplied daily, partly because her
impetuosity roused and attracted so many,
partly because she knew how to attach the rest to
her by kindness and attention. Generous she was
in the highest degree; her aunts affeCtion for
her and her bridegrooms love, had heaped her,
with beautiful and costly presents, but she
seemed as if nothing which she had was her
own, and as if she did not know the value of
the things which had streamed in upon her.
One day she saw a young lady looking rather
poorly dressed by the side of the rest of the
party, and she did not hesitate a moment to
take off a rich shawl which she was wearing
and hang it over herdoing it, at the same
time, in such a humorous, graceful way that
no one could refuse such a present so given.
One of her courtiers always carried about a
purse, with orders, whatever place they passed
through, to inquire there for the most aged
and most helpless persons, and give them re-
lief, at least for the moment. In this way she
gained for herself all round the country a
reputation for charitableness which caused her
not a little inconvenience, attracting about
her far too many troublesome sufferers.
Nothing, however, so much added to her
popularity as her steady and consistent kindness
towards an unhappy young man, who shrank
from society because, while otherwise hand-
some and well-formed, he had lost his right
hand, although with high honor, in action.
This mutilation weighed so heavily upon his
spirits, it was so annoying to him that every
new acquaintance he made had to be told the
story of his misfortune, that he chose rather to
shut himself up altogether, devoting himself to
reading and other studious pursuits, and once for
all would have nothing more to do with society.
She heard of the state of this young man.
At once she contrived to prevail upon him to
come to her, first to small parties, then to
greater, and then out into the world with her.
She showed more attention to him than to any
other person ; particularly she endeavored, by
the services which she pressed upon him, to
make him sensible of what he had lost in lab-
oring herself to supply it. At dinner, she
would make him sit next to her; she cut up
his food for him, that he might only have to
use his fork. If people older or of higher
rank prevented her from being close to him,
she would stretch her attention across the en-
tire table, and the servants were hurried off to
make up to him what distance threatened to
deprive him of. At last she encouraged him
to write with his left hand. All his attempts
he was to address to her, and thus, whether
far or near, she always kept herself in corre-
312




PUBLISHED BY GEORGE BARRIE
J.Ji. '.iuiab
s


spondence with him. The young man did not
know what had happened to him, and from
that moment a new life opened out before
him.
One may perhaps suppose that such behav-
ior must have caused some uneasiness to her
bridegroom. But, in fa<5t, it was quite the re-
verse. He admired her exceedingly for her
exertions, and he had the more reason for
feeling entirely satisfied about her, as she had
certain features in her character almost in ex-
cess, which kept anything in the slightest de-
gree dangerous utterly at a distance. She
would run about with anybody, just as she
fancied; no one was free from danger of a
push or a pull, or of being made the objedt of
some sort of freak. But no person ever
ventured to do the same to her; no per-
son dared to touch her, or return, in the
remotest degree, any liberty which she had
taken herself. She kept every one within the
striflest barriers of propriety in their behavior
to herself, while she, in her own behavior, was
every moment overleaping them.
On the whole, one might have supposed it
had been a maxim with her to expose herself
indifferently to praise or blame, to regard or
to dislike. If in many ways she took pains to
gain people, she commonly herself spoiled all
the good she had done, by an ill tongue,
which spared no one. Not a visit was ever
paid in the neighborhood, not a single piece
of hospitality was ever shown to herself and
her party among the surrounding castles or
mansions, but what on her return her excess-
ive recklessness let it appear that all men and
all human things she was only inclined to see
on the ridiculous side.
There were three brothers who, purely out
of compliment to each other, which should
marry first, had been overtaken by old age
before they had got the question settled; here
was a little young wife with a great old hus-
band ; there, on the other hand, was a dapper
little man and an unwieldy giantess. In one
house, every step one took one stumbled over
a child; another, however many people were
crammed into it, never would seem full, be-
cause there were no children there at all. Old
husbands (supposing the estate was not en-
tailed) should get themselves buried as quickly
as possible, that such a thing as a laugh might
be heard again in the house. Young married
people should travel: housekeeping did not sit
well upon them. And as she treated the per-
sons, so she treated what belonged to them;
their houses, their furniture, their dinner-ser-
viceseverything. The ornaments of the
walls of the rooms most particularly provoked
her saucy remarks. From the oldest tapestry
to the most modern printed paper; from the
noblest family pictures to the most frivolous
new copperplate : one as well as the other had
to sufferone as well as the other had to be
pulled in pieces by her satirical tongue, so that,
indeed, one had to wonder how, for twenty
miles round, anything continued to exist.
It was not, perhaps, exactly malice which
produced all this destructiveness; wilfulness
and selfishness were what ordinarily set her
off upon it: but a genuine bitterness grew up
in her feelings towards Ottilie.
She looked down with disdain on the calm,
uninterrupted activity of the sweet girl, which
everyone had observed and admired, and
when something was said of the care which
Ottilie took of the garden and of the hot-
houses, she not only spoke scornfully of it, in
affecting to be surprised, if it were so, at
there being neither flowers nor fruit to be
seen, not caring to consider that they were
living in the depth of winter, but every faint-
est scrap of green, every leaf, every bud
which showed, she chose to have picked every
day and squandered on ornamenting the rooms
and tables, and Ottilie and the gardener were
not a little distressed to see their hopes for the
next year, and perhaps for a longer time, de-
stroyed in this wanton recklessness.
As little would she be content to leave
Ottilie to her quiet work at home, in
which she could live with so much comfort.
Ottilie must go with them on their pleasure-
parties and sledging-parties; she must be at the
balls which were being got up all about the
neighborhood. She was not to mind the
snow, or the cold, or the night-air, or the
storm; other people did not die of such
things, and why should she? The delicate
girl suffered not a little from it all, but Luci-
ana gained nothing. For although Ottilie
went about very simply dressed, she was al-
ways, at least so the men thought, the most
beautiful person present. A soft attractive-
ness gathered them all about her; no matter
whereabouts in the great rooms she was, first
or last, it was always the same. Even Luci-
anas bridegroom was constantly occupied
with her; the more so, indeed, because he de-
sired her advice and assistance in a matter
with which he was just then engaged.
He had cultivated the acquaintance of the
579
313


architect. On seeing his collection of works
of art, he had taken occasion to talk much
with him on history and other matters, and
especially from seeing the chapel had learned
to appreciate his talent. The baron was
young and wealthy. He was a collector; he
wished to build. His love for the arts was
keen, his knowledge small. In the architect
he thought that he had found the man he
wanted; that with his assistance there was
more than one aim at which he could arrive at
once. He had spoken to his bride of what he
wished. She praised him for it, and was in-
finitely delighted with the proposal. But it
was more, perhaps, that she might carry off
this young man from Ottilie (for whom she
fancied sire saw in him a kind of inclination),
than because she thought of applying his tal-
ents to any purpose. He had shown himself,
indeed, very ready to help at any of her ex-
temporized festivities, and had suggested
various resources for this thing and that. But
she always thought she understood better than
he what should be done, and as her inventive
genius was usually somewhat common, her de-
signs could be as well executed with the help
of a tolerably handy domestic as with that of
the most finished artist. Further than to an
altar on which something was to be offered, or
to a crowning, whether of a living head or of
one of plaster of Paris, the force of her imagina-
tion could not ascend, when a birthday, or
other such occasion, made her wish to pay
some one an especial compliment.
Ottilie was able to give the baron the most
satisfactory answer to his inquiries as to the
relation of the architect with their family.
Charlotte had already, as she was aware, been
exerting herself to find some situation for
him; had it not been indeed for the arrival
of the party, the young man would have left
them immediately on the completion of the
chapel; the winter having brought all building
operations to a standstill; and it was, there-
fore, most fortunate if a new patron could be
found to assist him, and to make use of his
talents.
Ottilies own personal position with the
architect was as pure and unconscious as possi-
ble. His agreeable presence, and his indus-
trious nature, had charmed and entertained
her, as the presence of an elder brother might.
Her feelings for him remained at the calm
unimpassioned level of blood relationship.
For in her heart there was no room for more;
it was filled to overflowing with love for Ed-
ward; only God, who interpenetrates all
things, could share with him the possession of
that heart.
Meantime the winter sank deeper; the
weather grew wilder, the roads more imprac-
ticable, and therefore it seemed all the plea-
santer to spend the waning days in agreeable
society. With short intervals of ebb, the
crowd from time to time flooded up over the
house. Officers found their way there from
distant garrison towns; the cultivated among
them being a most welcome addition, the
ruder the inconvenience of every one. Of
civilians too there was no lack; and one day
the count and the baroness quite unexpectedly
came driving up together.
Their presence gave the castle the air of a
thorough court. The men of rank and char-
acter formed a circle about the baron, and the
ladies yielded precedence to the baroness.
The surprise at seeing both together, and in
such high spirits was not allowed to be of
long continuance. It came out that the
counts wife was dead, and the new marriage
was to take place as soon as ever decency would
allow it.
Well did Ottilie remember their first visit,
and every word which was then uttered about
marriage and separation, binding and divid-
ing, hope, expectation, disappointment, re-
nunciation. Here were these two persons, at
that time without prospect for the future, now
standing before her, so near their wished-for
happiness, and an involuntary sigh escaped
out of her heart.
No sooner did Luciana hear that the count
was an amateur of music, than at once she
must get up something of a concert. She
herself would sing and accompany herself on
the guitar. It was done. The instrument she
did not play without skill; her voice was
agreeable: as for the words one understood
about as little of them as one commonly does
when a German beauty sings to the guitar.
However, everyone assured her that she had
sung with exquisite expression, and she found
quite enough approbation to satisfy her. A
singular misfortune befell her, however, on
this occasion. Among the party there hap-
pened to be a poet, whom she hoped particu-
larly to attach to herself, wishing to induce
him to write a song or two, and address them
to her. This evening, therefore, she produced
scarcely anything except songs of his compos-
ing. Like the rest of the party he was per-
fectly courteous to her, but she had looked
3i4


for more. She spoke to him several times,
going as near the subjedt as she dared, but
nothing further could she get. At last, un-
able to bear it any longer, she sent one of her
train to him, to sound him and find out
whether he had not been delighted to hear
his beautiful poems so beautifully executed.
My poems? he replied, with amaze-
ment; pray excuse me, my dear sir, he
added, I heard nothing but the vowels, and
not all of those; however, I am in duty bound
to express all gratitude for so amiable an in-
tention. The dandy said nothing and kept
his secret; the other endeavored to get him-
self out of the scrape by a few well-timed
compliments. She did not conceal her desire
to have something of his which should be
written for herself.
If it would not have been too ill-natured,
he might have handed her the alphabet, to
imagine for herself, out of that, such lauda-
tory poem as would please her, and set it to
the first melody that came to hand; but she
was not to escape out of this business without
mortification. A short time after, she had to
learn that the very same evening he had
written, at the foot of one of Ottilies favorite
melodies, a most lovely poem, which was
something more than complimentary.
Luciana, like all persons of her sort, who
never can distinguish between where they
show to advantage and where to disadvantage,
now determined to try her fortune in reciting.
Her memory was good, but, if the truth must
be told, her execution was spiritless, and she
was vehement without being passionate. She
3i5


recited ballad stories, and whatever else is
usually delivered in declamation. At the
same time she had contracted an unhappy-
habit of accompanying what she delivered
with gestures, by which, in a disagreeable way,
what is purely epic and lyric is more con-
fused than connected with the dramatic.
The count, a keen-sighted man, soon saw
through the part}', their inclinations, disposi-
tions, wishes and capabilities, and by some
means or other contrived to bring Luciana to
a new kind of exhibition, which was perfectly
suited to her.
I see here, he said, a number of per-
sons with fine figures, who would surely be
able to imitate pictorial emotions and postures.
Suppose they were to try, if the thing is new
to them, to represent some real and well-
known picture. An imitation of this kind, if
it requires some labor in arrangement, has an
inconceivably charming effeCt.
Luciana was quick enough in perceiving
that here she was on her own ground entirely.
Her fine shape, her well-rounded form, the
regularity and yet expressiveness of her fea-
tures, her light-brown braided hair, her long
neckshe ran them all over in her mind, and
calculated on their pictorial effeCts, and if she
had only known that her beauty showed to
more advantage when she was still than when
she was in motion, because in the last case
certain ungracefulnesses continually escaped
her, she would have entered even more eager-
ly than she did into this natural piCture-mak-
ing.
They looked out the engravings of cele-
brated pictures, and the first which they chose
was Van Dyks Belisarius. A large well-pro-
portioned man, somewhat advanced in years,
was to represent the seated blind general.
The architect was to be the affectionate
soldier standing sorrowing before him, there
really being some resemblance between them.
Luciana, half from modesty, had chosen the
part of the young woman in the background,
counting out some large alms into the palm
of his hand, while an old woman beside her is
trying to prevent her, and representing that
she is giving too much. Another woman who
is in the aCt of giving him something, was not
forgotten. Into this and other pictures they
threw themselves with all earnestness. The
count gave the architect a few hints as to the
best style of arrangement, and he at once set
up a kind of theatre, all necessary pains being
taken for the proper lighting of it. They
316
were already deep in the midst of their pre-
parations, before they observed how large an
outlay what they were undertaking would re-
quire, and that in the country, in the middle
of winter, many things which they required it
would be difficult to procure; consequently,
to prevent a stoppage, Luciana had nearly her
whole wardrobe cut in pieces, to supply the
various costumes which the original artist had
arbitrarily seleCled.
The appointed evening came, and the ex-
hibition was carried out in the presence of a
large assemblage, and to the universal satis-
faction. They had some good music to ex-
cite expectation, and the performance opened
with the Belisarius. The figures were so suc-
cessful, the colors were so happily distributed,
and the lighting managed so skilfully, that
they might really have fancied themselves in
another world, only that the presence of the
real instead of the apparent produced a kind
of uncomfortable sensation.
The curtain fell, and was more than once
raised again by general desire. A musical in-
terlude kept the assembly amused while pre-
paration was going forward, to surprise them
with a picture of a higher stamp; it was the
well-known design of Poussin, Ahasuerus and
Esther. This time Luciana had done better
for herself. As the fainting, sinking queen
she had put out all her charms, and for the
attendant maidens who were supporting her,
she had cunningly selected pretty well-shaped
figures, not one among whom, however, had
the slightest pretension to be compared with
herself. From this picture, as from all the
rest, Ottilie remained excluded. To sit on
the golden throne and represent the Zeus-like
monarch, Luciana had picked out the finest
and handsomest man of the party, so that this
picture was really of inimitable perfection.
For a third they had taken the so-called
Fathers Admonition of Terburg, and who
does not know Willes admirable engraving
of this picture? One foot thrown over the
other, sits a noble knightly-looking father;
his daughter stands before him, to whose con-
science he seems to be addressing himself.
She, a fine striking figure, in a folding drapery
of white satin, is only to be seen from behind,
but her whole bearing appears to signify that
she is collecting herself. That the admonition
is not too severe, that she is not being utterly
put to shame, is to be gathered from the air
and attitude of the father, while the mother
seems as if she were trying to conceal some


slight embarrassmentshe is looking into a
glass of wine, which she is on the point of
drinking.
Here was an opportunity for Luciana to
appear in her highest splendor. Her back j
hair, the form of her head, neck and j
shoulders, were beyond all conception beauti-
ful; and the waist, which in the modern an- |
tique of the ordinary dresses of young ladies j
is hardly visible, showed to the greatest ad-
vantage in all its graceful slender elegance in
the really old costume. The architedl had
contrived to dispose the rich folds of the
white satin with the most exquisite nature,
and, without any question whatever, this liv-
ing imitation far exceeded the original picture,
and produced universal delight.
The spedlators could never be satisfied with
demanding a repetition of the performance,
and the very natural wish to see the face and
front of so lovely a creature, when they had
done looking at her from behind, at last be-
came so decided, that a merry impatient
young wit cried out aloud the words one is
accustomed to write at the bottom of a page,
Tournez, sil vous plait, which was echoed
all round the room.
The performers, however, understood their
advantage too well, and had mastered too
completely the idea of these works of art to
yield to the most general clamor. The
daughter remained standing in her shame,
without favoring the spedlators with the ex-
pression of her face. The father continued to
sit in his attitude of admonition, and the
mother did not lift nose or eyes out of the
transparent glass, in which, although she
seemed to be drinking, the wine did not
diminish.
We need not describe the number of smaller
after-pieces; for which had been chosen
Flemish public-house scenes and fair and
market days.
The count and the baroness departed,
promising to return in the first happy weeks
of their approaching union. And Charlotte
now had hopes, after having endured two
weary months of it, of ridding herself of the
rest of the party at the same time. She was
assured of her daughters happiness, as soon
as the first tumult of youth and betrothal
should have subsided in her; for the bride-
groom considered himself the most fortunate
person in the world. His income was large,
his disposition moderate and rational, and
now he found himself further wonderfully
favored in the happiness of becoming the pos-
sessor of a young lady with whom all the
world must be charmed. He had so peculiar
a way of referring everything to her, and only
to himself through her, that it gave him an
unpleasant feeling when any newly-arrived
person did not devote himself heart and soul
to her, and was far from flattered if, as occa-
sionally happened, particularly with elderly
men, he negledted her for a close intimacy
with himself. Everything was settled about
the architect. On New Years day he was to
follow him, and spend the Carnival at his
house in the city, where Luciana was premis-
s'
580


ing herself infinite happiness from a repetition
of her charmingly successful pictures, as well
as from a hundred other things; all the more
as her aunt and her bridegroom seemed to
make so light of the expense which was re-
quired for her amusements.
And now they were to break up. But this
could not be managed in an ordinary way.
They were one day making fun of Charlotte
aloud, declaring that they would soon have
eaten out her winter stores, when the noble-
man who had represented Belisarius, being
fortunately a man of some wealth, carried
away by Lucianas charms, to which he had
been so long devoting himself, cried out un-
thinkingly, Why not manage then in the
Polish fashion ? you come now and eat up me,
and then we will go on round the circle.
No sooner said than done. Luciana willed
that it should be so. The next day they all
packed up and the swarm alighted on a new
property. There indeed they found room
enough, but few conveniences and no prepara-
tions to receive them. Out of this arose many
contretemps, which entirely enchanted Lu-
ciana; their life became ever wilder and
wilder. Huge hunting-parties were set on
foot in the deep snow, attended with every
sort of disagreeableness; women were not
allowed to excuse themselves any more than
men, and so they trooped on, hunting and
riding, sledging and shouting, from one place
to another, till at last they approached the
residence, and there the news of the day and
the scandals and what else forms the amuse-
ment of people at courts and cities gave the
imagination another direction, and Luciana
with her train of attendants (her aunt had
gone on some time before) swept at once into
a new sphere of life.
FROM OTTILIES DIARY.
We accept every person in the world as
that for which he gives himself out, only he
must give himself out for something. We can
put up with the unpleasant more easily than
we can endure the insignificant.
We venture upon anything in society ex-
cept only what involves a consequence.
We never learn to know people when
they come to us: we must go to them to find
out how things stand with them.
I find it almost natural that we should see
many faults in visitors, and that diredlly they
are gone we should judge them not in the
most amiable manner. For we have, so to say,
3i8
a right to measure them by our own standard.
Even cautious, sensible men can scarcely keep
themselves in such cases from being sharp
censors.
When, on the contrary, we are staying at
the houses of others, when we have seen them
in the midst of all their habits and environ-
ments among those necessary conditions from
which they cannot escape, when we have seen
how they affect those about them, and how
they adapt themselves to their circumstances,
it is ignorance, it is worse, it is ill-will, to find
ridiculous what in more than one sense has a
claim on our respedt.
That which we call politeness and good
breeding effedts what otherwise can only be
obtained by violence, or not even by that.
Intercourse with women is the element of
good manners.
How can the character, the individuality
of a man co-exist with polish of manner?
The individuality can only be properly
made prominent through good manners.
Everyone likes what has something in it,
only it must not be a disagreeable something.
In life generally, and in society no one
has such high advantages as a well-cultivated
soldier.
The rudest fighting people at least do not
go out of their character, and generally be-
hind the roughness there is a certain latent
good humor, so that in difficulties it is possi-
ble to get on even with them.
No one is more intolerable than an un-
derbred civilian. From him one has a right
to look for a delicacy, as he has no rough
work to do.
When we are living with people who have
a delicate sense of propriety, we are in misery
on their account when anything unbecoming
is committed. So I always feel for and with
Charlotte, when a person is tipping his chair.
She cannot endure it.
No one would ever come into a mixed
party with spedlacles on his nose, if he did
but know that at once we women lose all
pleasure in looking at him or listening to what
he has to say.
Free-and-easiness, where there ought to be
respedl, is always ridiculous. No one would
put his hat down when he had scarcely paid
the ordinary compliments if he knew how
comical it looks.
There is no outward sign of courtesy that
does not rest on a deep moral foundation.
The proper education would be that which