The Alpine Fay

"And you had patients here in the village who were very ill at the time?"

"Not only here, but everywhere throughout the district. Diphtheria had broken out, and the children brought home contagion from school. One or two were lying ill in almost every house, and most of the cases were very serious, for the epidemic was particularly virulent,–and just when it was at its height the place was offered me! The nearest physician lived half a day's journey away, and my distinguished colleagues in Heilborn do not come up to the lonely farms through storm and snow,–it would cost the people too dear. I delayed my departure from day to day, and Wolfgang kept urging me, but I could not go. Hansel, come here!"

He beckoned to a boy of about six who had worked his way to the front and stood looking on delightedly at the dancers. He was a sturdy little fellow, with flaxen hair and a fresh, chubby face. He obeyed the call instantly, very proud to be summoned by the doctor, and looked up confidingly at the young lady to whom he was presented.

"Look at this fellow, Fräulein Nordheim," Reinsfeld went on; "he does not look as if, eight months ago, he lay very nearly dying, does he? He is the grandson of old Seppel, who used to be at Wolkenstein Court, and he has a little sister who was at the point of death also. Those two decided the matter! Just as I had resolved to set out, Sepp came to me on a stormy night; the old man cried bitterly, and the mother, a young peasant-woman, wailed out, 'Do not go, Herr Doctor! If you leave us the boy will die, and the girl too.' I knew better than they did the need in which they stood of medical aid, and there were others too who needed me sorely. This poor little rogue struggled so with the frightful disease, and looked up at me with such beseeching eyes, as if I were absolutely the Almighty,–and I stayed. I could not find it in my heart to leave the poor little things to suffer just that I might feather my own nest. I sent word, to be sure, why I was obliged to delay, but the gentlemen in authority in could not wait, of course; there were many other applicants, and one of them got the position."

"And you?" Alice asked, gently.

"I? Well, Fräulein Nordheim, I never repented it, for I brought most of my little patients through, and since then the Wolkensteiners have been willing to go through fire and water to serve me."

Alice made no rejoinder; she looked up for a moment at the man who related all this so simply and as if it were quite a matter of course that he should relinquish his future, and then she drew little Hansel towards her and gently kissed the boy's rosy cheek. There was something inexpressibly tender in the act, and Benno's eyes sparkled as he was conscious of the silent recognition thus conveyed.

"Well, Benno, are you receiving the homage of the assembled populace?" cried Molly, approaching with her husband; and Gersdorf added, with a laugh,–

"Yes, it was really a triumphal procession that escorted Fräulein Nordheim and yourself to the dancing-floor. Pray allow us some share of your popularity."

Waltenberg and Erna soon joined them, and the entire party made themselves comfortable in a corner of the dancing-floor. Poor Frau von Lasberg little dreamed what were the consequences of her headache. Alice, her charge, who had been so carefully shielded from every noise, from all undesirable association,–Alice was sitting close beside the ear-splitting music of the rural orchestra, in the midst of the shouts and whoops of the dancers, whose nail-shod soles stamped out the time amid the whirling dust, and, strange to say, she was extremely well entertained. There was a faint flush on her pale cheek, her eyes had lost their weary expression and beamed with pleasure, and Benno Reinsfeld was standing beside her chair, prouder and happier than he had ever been in his life before, conducting himself like the very pink of courtesy. Verily, it was a day of signs and wonders!

The doctor's popularity, however, had its drawbacks, as was soon to appear. Little Hansel had been summoned by his mother with an air of mystery from the dancing-floor to be intrusted with an important mission. Old Sepp had brought from the Nordheim villa the intelligence that Fräulein von Thurgau and the foreign gentleman from Heilborn were either already betrothed or were going to be, and that they were only waiting for the president's return to have their betrothal publicly announced. The young peasant-woman, Seppel's daughter, who had also been a servant at Wolkenstein Court until her marriage, and still cherished a loyal allegiance to its former mistress, was quite beside herself with joy at sight of her beloved Fräulein, to whom she proudly presented her two children. Hansel was now to repeat the St. John's verse to the betrothed pair, and, accompanied by his sister, to present to them the bunch of flowers which obliged those receiving it to dance together. The Fräulein knew the old custom and would be delighted to comply with it with her 'schatz.' From the fresh bouquet of Alpine flowers which decorated the inn parlour the finest were selected, and a rehearsal hurriedly took place, in which Hansel had sustained with great credit the part which he was now to play in public.

There was a pause in the dancing, and the music was silent as Hansel again made his appearance on the floor, one hand full of Alpine flowers, while with the other he led along his little sister, who carried a nosegay equally large. With much gravity he advanced, as he had been instructed to do, towards the group of ladies and gentlemen; but the directions given him could not have been sufficiently clear, for the two children marched straight up to Alice and the doctor, and offered them the flowers, while Hansel began to recite his verse.

"Gracious, Hansel, those are not the right ones!" his mother cried in a loud whisper, but Hansel was not to be deterred. For him there was but one 'right one,' and that was the Herr Doctor, with the young lady beside him. So he went bravely through his verse, and ended with emphasis,–

"Do not refuse it,–Our offering of flowers,And midsummer's blessingsFall on you in showers."

Alice, surprised, graciously accepted the bouquet which the little girl held out to her, but Benno, who understood the significance of the little comedy, was overwhelmed with embarrassment.

"But, my boy,–my little girl, what are you thinking of?" he exclaimed, trying to turn the children aside. Hansel, however, stood his ground sturdily and thrust his nosegay into the doctor's hand.

"Ah, take his flowers," Alice said, in entire unconsciousness. "What does it all mean?"

"It is the ancient St. John's blessing," Erna explained, smiling, "and the flowers mean that you positively must dance with the doctor, Alice; I am afraid there is no help for it."

"Oh, this is delightful!" Molly cried, clapping her hands. "Of course; Benno must dance by all means."

Poor Reinsfeld was in despair, but Waltenberg and Gersdorf laughingly insisted, and even Erna, who probably guessed, from the young peasant-wife's face, the state of the case, entered into the jest. "You need only go once round the floor, Alice," she said. "Comply with the old custom; you will offend the people if you refuse their doctor, of whom they think so much, the dance to which, in their opinion, he has a right. It would be to reject the midsummer blessing which they so kindly invoke for you."

Alice did not seem for her part to think the custom a very strange one; she merely smiled on perceiving the young physician's intense embarrassment, and, turning to him, said, in an undertone,–

"We must comply with their wish, Herr Doctor; do you not think so?"

Poor Benno, who had never danced save at these rural festivals, fairly grew giddy at these words.

"Fräulein Nordheim–would you?" he asked.

In reply Alice arose and took his arm. Those standing about, who thought it all a matter of course, made room, the music struck up, and in another moment the couple were whirling away.

Meanwhile, Frau von Lasberg was feeling much better,–the cool quiet of the secluded apartment had really done her good; she came rustling in great majesty to the door of the inn, where, to her intense annoyance, she found her egress barred by a crowd of people, among whom were Gronau with Said and Djelma, and the host and hostess. All were stretching their necks to gaze towards the dancing-floor, which could be seen very easily from the top of the inn steps, and where something remarkable seemed to be going on.

The Baroness was naturally of too refined a nature to share in such vulgar curiosity, and she was annoyed that no one seemed to perceive her; she turned to Said, who stood near her, and said, authoritatively, "Said, stand aside; are the ladies still in the garden?"

"No; on the dancing-floor," Said replied, delighted.

Frau von Lasberg was indignant; she suspected some folly of Molly's, that enfant terrible: "And they have left Fräulein Nordheim alone?"

"No; the Fräulein is dancing with the doctor!" Said explained, showing his white teeth in a grin.

The Baroness shrugged her shoulders at the stupidity of the negro, with his broken German; but, involuntarily looking in the direction whither he pointed, she saw what almost paralyzed her,–the doctor's athletic figure with its arm about the waist of a young lady in a light summer-gown and a straw hat trimmed with flowers,–her pupil, Alice Nordheim. And they were dancing together! Fräulein Alice Nordheim dancing with the peasant doctor!

It was more than Frau von Lasberg's overtaxed nerves could endure. She very nearly fainted, and would have fallen had not Said received her in his arms, as was of course his duty; but in great embarrassment as to what was to be done with his burden, he called out, "Herr Gronau! Herr Gronau! I have got a lady!"

"Well, you had better keep her, then," said Veit, who, quite unaware of what was going on, stood at some distance and did not even turn his head. The host and hostess, however, heard the distressed exclamation and hurried to the rescue. There was a vast stir and commotion, and Djelma was running off to the dancing-floor, when Gronau detained him: "Stop! Where are you going?"

"To bring the doctor." But Veit held him fast.

"Stay where you are!" Veit ordered. "Is the poor doctor never to have any pleasure? Let him have his dance out, and then he can restore the Frau Baroness."

The crowd about the dancing-floor were quite unconscious of this episode, and the couple danced on. Benno's arm encircled the delicate waist, and his eyes rested with delight upon the lovely face, no longer pale, but tinged by the exercise a rosy pink, that was raised to his own, and as he gazed he forgot Oberstein and the entire world. Oberstein, however, was hugely delighted with the turn affairs had taken, and testified to its pleasure in unmistakable fashion: the musicians fiddled away with enthusiasm, the peasant lads and lasses shouted, Hansel and his little sister skipped about, keeping time to the waltz, and all the Wolkensteiners sang in chorus,–

"Do not refuse it,–Our offering of flowers,And midsummer's blessingsFall on you in showers."

CHAPTER XV.

A BETROTHAL

Nearly four weeks had gone by, and July was approaching its close, when President Nordheim returned to his mountain-villa. Meanwhile, the engineer-in-chief, whose ill health had long necessitated his resigning his position into Elmhorst's hands in all save the name, had died, and there had been but one opinion as to the man who should succeed him; the future son-in-law of the president, the engineer of the Wolkenstein bridge, was unanimously chosen to fill the vacant post. He was thus at the head of the huge undertaking now so near its completion.

Several hours after Nordheim's return he retired with Wolfgang to his study, there to discuss the matter, which they had not done hitherto save by letter. Both were well content.

"Your election was a mere form," said the president. "There was no name save yours mentioned; nevertheless I congratulate you, Herr Engineer-in-Chief."

Elmhorst smiled slightly, but with none of that proud self-consciousness with which he had formerly achieved his appointment as superintendent, and yet that had been only the starting-point of the career the goal of which was now attained so brilliantly. A change had taken place in him: he looked pale and depressed, and in the keen eyes, whose depths had seemed so cold, there glowed from time to time a fire which leaped to light, only to flicker unsteadily and then to be as quickly extinguished. In conversation, too, he no longer preserved his old deliberate composure; in spite of all his self-control the man seemed to be consumed by some inward struggle, which did not permit him to march forward to gratify his ambition without looking either to the right or to the left,–some racking, tormenting struggle barred his path.

"Thank you, sir," he replied. "I value highly the proof thus given me of the confidence reposed in me, and I confess, besides, that I take satisfaction in knowing that the completion of the work to which I have given the best that is in me should be connected with my name."

"Do you set such a value on that?" Nordheim asked, indifferently. "True, such an ambition is still natural at your age; but you will soon outgrow it when loftier interests come to the fore."

"Loftier than the honour that attaches to the creation of a great work?"

"More practical interests, I mean,–interests of more decisive weight,–and it is precisely of them that I wish to speak with you. You know that I have long cherished the desire to retire from the company as soon as the railway shall be opened?"

"I do; you mentioned it to me some months ago, and surprised me exceedingly. Why should you wish to retire from an undertaking which you practically called into existence?"

"Because it no longer seems to me sufficiently profitable," the president replied, coolly. "The costs of construction are very heavy,–much heavier than I thought; in fact, there was no possibility of foreseeing all the difficulties in our way, and then your predecessor had such a mania for building with solidity. He sometimes drove me to despair with that solidity of his; it was terribly costly."

"Excuse me, sir, but I share that same 'mania,'" Wolfgang declared, with some emphasis.

"Of course. Hitherto you have been simply an engineer of the railway, and it could make but little difference to you if it cost a few millions more or less. But when in future you engage in such undertakings as my son-in-law you will think very differently."

"On such points–never!"

"Oh, you must learn to do so. In this case we can specially emphasize the admirable quality of the structure when the appraisement is made, which will probably be this year. The stockholders must own the railway; I have resolved upon that, and have already taken steps to have it so arranged. My shares stand for millions where others have invested tens of thousands at the most; I can consider myself the practical proprietor of the entire concern. Consequently I can impose my own conditions, and therefore I am especially glad to have you at the head of affairs as engineer-in-chief; we need take no stranger into counsel, but can work together."

"I am entirely at your service, sir, as you know; as matters stand, the appraisement will be tolerably high."

"I hope so," Nordheim said, slowly and significantly. "Moreover, the calculations are for the most part already made. They should be ready long beforehand, and they demand the work of a thorough man of business. I could not, therefore, call upon you to make them; you have enough to do in the conduct of the technical part of the enterprise. You will merely be called upon to review and approve the appraisement, and in this regard I rely upon you absolutely, Wolfgang. The unbounded confidence which you enjoy, as the result of your labours hitherto, will make matters very easy for us."

Wolfgang looked somewhat puzzled; it was a matter of course that he should do his duty and assist his father-in-law to the best of his ability, but there seemed some other meaning hidden behind the president's words: they sounded odd. There was no opportunity for further explanation, however, for Nordheim looked at his watch and arose.

"Four o'clock already; it will soon be dinner-time. Come, Wolfgang, we must not keep the ladies waiting."

"You brought Waltenberg with you," Elmhorst said, as he also rose.

"Yes; he met me in Heilborn, and came over with me. His patience seems to have been put to a hard test in these last four weeks. I cannot understand the man. He is proud and self-willed, even arrogant in a certain way, and yet he allows himself to be the victim of a girl's caprice. I mean to have a serious talk with my niece. The matter must be decided."

Meanwhile, they had passed through the adjoining room and entered the drawing-room, where a servant was employed in raising the curtains, which had been drawn down on account of the sun. Nordheim asked if the ladies were in the garden.

"Only the Baroness Thurgau and Herr Waltenberg," was the reply. "Fräulein Nordheim is in her room, where the Herr Doctor is paying her a visit."

"Ah, the new physician whom you have discovered," said the president, turning to Wolfgang. "One of your early friends, I think you told me. He certainly seems to understand the matter, for Alice has changed greatly for the better in a short time. I was quite surprised by her appearance and her unusual sprightliness; the doctor seems to have worked wonders. What is the name of this Oberstein Æsculapius? You forgot to mention it in your letters."

Wolfgang had purposely avoided doing so, but he felt no longer called upon to pay any regard to what he considered as his friend's whim, and he replied, quietly,–

"Dr. Benno Reinsfeld."

Nordheim turned upon him hastily: "Whom did you say?"

"Benno Reinsfeld," Elmhorst repeated, amazed at the tone in which the question was put. He had supposed that the president would scarcely remember the name, and that he would not take the slightest interest in the old associations so foreign now to the millionaire. That they had a deep and lasting hold upon him was evident, however: Nordheim's face grew ghastly pale, and expressed dismay, and even terror, which also showed itself in his voice as he exclaimed, "What! that man in Oberstein,–and in my house?"

Wolfgang was about to reply, but at that moment the door opened and Benno himself entered. He started slightly upon perceiving the president, but paused calmly and bowed. He had just heard from Alice of her father's arrival, and was prepared for this encounter.

Nordheim immediately divined who the man was; perhaps he remembered the young physician whom he had seen for a moment three years before at Wolkenstein Court, without hearing his name, and he was man of the world enough to recover himself immediately. With apparent composure he greeted the young man whom Wolfgang now presented to him, but his impassible features were still ghastly pale.

"Herr Elmhorst wrote me that he had availed himself of your skill on behalf of his betrothed," he said, with frigid courtesy, "and I must express my thanks to you, Herr Doctor, for your efforts seem to have achieved very favourable results; my daughter looks decidedly better. Your diagnosis, I hear, differs from that of her former physicians?"

"Fräulein Nordheim seems to me to be suffering from a derangement of the nerves," said Benno, modestly, "and I have treated her accordingly."

"Indeed? The other gentlemen were tolerably well agreed in pronouncing her heart affected."

"I know it, but I do not agree with them, and the result of my treatment seems to prove me in the right. I have induced Fräulein Nordheim, who has been hitherto forbidden all exercise, to take walks and to increase their extent daily, and I have advised some mountain-climbing, and that she should spend as much time as possible in the open air, since this high atmosphere seems to suit her extremely well. Thus far I have cause to be satisfied with her improvement."

"As we all have," the president assented, gazing meanwhile at the young physician as if to read his soul. "As I said, I am grateful to you. You live in Oberstein, Wolfgang wrote me. Have you been there long?

"Five years, Herr President."

"And you intend to remain?"

"At least until some better position offers."

"There should be no difficulty about that," Nordheim remarked, and then went on to converse with the young man, but with a degree of distant courtesy that entirely precluded familiar ease. Not a word, not a look betrayed any consciousness that the man before him was the son of his early friend; in spite of his apparent kindliness, his reserve was also apparent.

Benno perceived this clearly, but was not at all surprised by it, for he had expected nothing else. He knew that the memories roused by his name were far from agreeable to the president, and in his modesty he never dreamed that the result of his medical treatment of the daughter could influence the father. He never thought of recalling associations so entirely ignored by the millionaire, and, as the meeting was an annoying one for him, he took his leave as soon as possible.

Nordheim looked after him in silence for a few moments, and then, turning to Wolfgang with a frown, he asked, sharply, "How came you to make this acquaintance?"

"As I have told you, Reinsfeld is one of my early friends, whom I met again here in Oberstein."

"And you have known him for years without ever mentioning his name to me?"

"I avoided doing so by Benno's express desire, for your name is as well known to him as his to you. You do not wish to be reminded that his father was your fellow-student,–I perceived that to-day."

"What do you know about it?" the president asked, angrily. "Did the doctor speak to you about it?"

"He did, and informed me that the former friendship had ended in entire alienation."

Nordheim leaned his hand as if accidentally upon the back of the chair by which he was standing; his face had grown pale again, and his voice was rather tremulous as he asked, "Indeed! And what does he know about it?"

"Nothing at all! He was a boy at the time, and never learned what caused the breach; but he was much too proud to approach you in any way, and therefore made me promise to avoid mentioning his name for as long as I could."

Involuntarily Nordheim breathed a deep sigh; he made no rejoinder, but walked to the window.

"It seems to me that Dr. Reinsfeld was entitled to a more cordial reception," Wolfgang began again, evidently hurt by the cool way in which his friend had been treated. "Of course I know nothing of what occurred formerly–"

"Nor do I wish you to know," the president sharply interrupted him. "The affair was of a purely personal character, and one of which I alone can judge; but you knew that this Reinsfeld could not be agreeable to me, and I cannot understand how you came to introduce him into my house and intrust my daughter's health to him. It was an act of supererogation which I cannot approve."

He was evidently much irritated by his encounter with Benno, and was wreaking his irritation upon his future son-in-law, who was, however, nowise inclined to submit to be addressed in a tone which he heard today for the first time.

"I regret, sir, that the matter should annoy you," he said, coldly, "but there is no question here of supererogation. It is certainly my right to call in for my betrothed a physician in whom I have perfect confidence, and who, as you yourself must admit, has entirely justified my confidence. I could not possibly surmise that an old grudge, dating twenty years back, and of which Benno is as innocent as he is ignorant, could make you so unjust. Your former friend is long since dead, and all unpleasantness should be buried with him."

"I am the only judge of that," Nordheim interrupted him, with a fresh access of anger. "Enough. I will not have this man coming to my house. I will send him a fee,–of course a very large fee,–and decline further visits from him upon any pretext whatsoever. And I also request you to discontinue your intercourse with him. I do not approve of it."

The words sounded like a command, but the young engineer-in-chief was not the man to submit. His eyes flashed: "I think I have told you, sir, that Dr. Reinsfeld is my friend," he said, sternly, "and of course there can be no question of giving him up. It would insult him, after the pains he has taken with Alice's health, to dismiss him with a fee before her cure is complete. And I must beg you also to adopt another tone in speaking of him. Benno is a man deserving of the greatest regard; beneath an unpretending and even awkward exterior he possesses characteristics and talents worthy of all admiration."