The Alpine Fay

The words sounded almost rude, but he to whom they were addressed took no heed; he was still gazing at Erna as he went on: "These palms and orchids require it. Look, Fräulein von Thurgau, they enchant the eye even here in captivity. In the tropics, where they climb and twine in liberty, they are wonderful indeed."

"Yes, that world must be beautiful," Erna said, softly, while her eyes wandered dreamily over the foreign splendour of the blossoms gleaming among the green on every side and filling the conservatory with their sweet but enervating fragrance.

"Was your stay in the East a long one, Herr Waltenberg?" Alice asked, in her cool, uninterested way.

"I passed some years there, but I am at home all over the world, and can even boast having penetrated far into Africa."

Wolfgang's attention was roused by these last words: "Probably as a member of some scientific expedition?" he observed.

"No, that would have had no charm for me. I detest nothing so much as constraint, and it is impossible in such expeditions to preserve one's personal freedom. One is bound by the rules of the expedition, by the wishes of one's companions, by all sorts of things, and I am wont to follow my own will only."

"Ah, indeed?" A half-contemptuous smile played about Wolfgang's lips. "I beg pardon; I really thought you had gone to Africa as a scientific pioneer."

"Good heavens, how in earnest you are about everything, Herr Elmhorst!" Waltenberg said, with a scarcely perceptible sneer. "Must life perforce be labour? I never coveted fame as an explorer; I have enjoyed the freedom and beauty of the world, and have renewed my youth and strength in quaffing long draughts of such enjoyment. To put it to positive use would destroy its romance for me."

Elmhorst shrugged his shoulders, and remarked, with apparent indifference, in which there was nevertheless a spice of insolence, "Certainly a most convenient way of arranging one's existence. And yet hardly to my taste, and quite impossible for most people. So to live one should be born to great wealth."

"No, not of necessity," Waltenberg retorted, in the same tone. "Some lucky chance may endow one with wealth."

Wolfgang looked annoyed, and he was evidently about to make a sharp reply, when Erna, perceiving this, hastened to give the conversation another turn.

"I fear my uncle must resign all hope of making you at home among us," said she. "You are so entirely under the spell of your tropical world, that everything here will seem petty and meagre to you. I hardly think that even our mountains could move you to admiration, but there you will find me a determined antagonist."

Waltenberg turned towards her,–perhaps he saw in her face, or was conscious himself, that he had gone too far. "You do me injustice, Fräulein Thurgau," he replied. "I have never forgotten the Alpine world of my native country,–its lofty summits, its deep-blue lakes, and the lovely creations of its legends by which it is peopled,–creatures"–his voice sounded veiled–"compounded as it were of air and Alpine snow, with the white fairy-like flowers of its waters crowning their fair hair."

The compliment was too bold, but the manner in which it was uttered took from it all presumption, as the speaker's eyes rested in admiration upon the beautiful girl before him in her white, misty ball-dress.

"Alice, are you rested?" Wolfgang asked, aloud. "We really ought not to remain away from the other room so long. Let us go back."

His words sounded almost like a command. Alice arose, put her hand within his arm, and they left the conservatory together.

"Herr Elmhorst seems to have a decided predilection for command," Waltenberg said, ironically, looking after them. "His tone was decidedly that of the future lord and master, and upon the very day of his betrothal. Fräulein Nordheim's choice seems surprising to me in more than one sense."

"Alice's is a very gentle, docile nature," Erna observed.

"So much the worse. Her lover seems to have no conception that it is this connection alone that raises him to a position to which he could not personally lay any claim."

The young girl had risen and approached a group of plants, whose heavy crimson blossoms hung amid dark green leaves. After a moment's pause she rejoined, "I do not think Wolfgang Elmhorst a man to allow himself to be 'raised.'"

"Why, then, should her– Pardon me, I ought not to say one word in disapproval of your future relative."

Erna did not reply, and he seemed to take her silence as a permission to proceed, for he continued, very gravely: "Do you think inclination plays any part in his suit?"

"No."

The word was uttered with a certain harshness, as the girl's face leaned half hidden among the crimson flowers.

"Nor do I, and my opinion of Herr Elmhorst is based upon that conviction. Pray, Fräulein Thurgau, do not inhale the fragrance of those blossoms so closely; I know the plant,–its odour is delicious but mischievous, and will give you headache. Be careful."

"You are right," she said, with a deep breath, passing her hand across her forehead and standing erect. "It is, besides, time that we returned to the other rooms. May I trouble you, Herr Waltenberg?"

He seemed hardly to agree with this, but nevertheless instantly offered his arm and conducted her to the ball-room, which was still full.

The court-councillor was sitting in a corner nursing his wrath with Fran von Lasberg, who seemed inclined to fan the flame. She had ascertained by questioning the servants that the cards on the table had really been changed, and her indignation was extreme. She harangued the unfortunate father of such a daughter in low but expressive tones, and concluded her discourse with the annihilating declaration, "In short, the conduct of Herr Gersdorf seems to me outrageous!"

"Yes, it is outrageous!" Ernsthausen murmured in a fury. "And, moreover, I have been looking for Molly for half an hour to take her home, and I cannot find her. She is a terrible child!"

"Under no circumstances should I have allowed her to attend this entertainment," the old lady began again. "When the Frau Baroness opened her heart to me about the affair, I urged it upon her to have recourse to vigorous measures."

"And so we have," Ernsthausen declared; "but it is of no use. My wife is ill with all this worry and vexation, and her indisposition may, probably will, last for days. I am occupied with my official duties. Who is to stand guard over the girl meanwhile and frustrate all her insane schemes?"

"Send Molly to the country to her granduncle," was Frau von Lasberg's advice. "There no personal intercourse with Gersdorf will be possible, and if I know the old Baron he will find a means of preventing any exchange of letters."

The councillor looked as if a ray of light had suddenly invaded the darkness of his soul; he adopted the suggestion with enthusiasm.

"That is an idea!" he cried. "You are right, madame, perfectly right! Molly shall go to my uncle immediately,–the day after to-morrow. He was beside himself at learning of the affair, and will certainly be the best of guardians. I will write to him early to-morrow morning."

He was so possessed with this thought that he hastily arose, and made a fresh attempt to find his daughter, but it was a difficult undertaking. He might as well have given chase to a butterfly, for Molly possessed a wonderful talent for disappearing just as her father was about to confront her. Ernst Waltenberg, who had been taken into council by the lovers twice, acted as a lightning-conductor on this occasion, in view of the approaching storm, which he diverted by his conversation. Meanwhile, the little Baroness would disappear among a crowd of her friends, to come to light again in an entirely different place. She seemed to regard the company as an assemblage of guardian-angels, to be used according to her good pleasure, and even the minister, her father's illustrious chief, who was present, was obliged to serve her purpose, for she finally took refuge with His Excellency, and complained in the most moving terms that her father was insisting upon driving home, when she wanted to stay so much. The old gentleman instantly espoused the cause of the charming child, and when the councillor appeared with a stern "Molly, the carriage is waiting," he kindly interposed with, "Let it wait, my dear councillor. Youth claims its rights, and I promised the Baroness to intercede for her. You will stay, will you not?"

Ernsthausen was inwardly raging, while his outward man bowed in polite assent, in recognition of which his chief engaged him in conversation, and did not release him until a quarter of an hour had passed. Then, however, the Baron was determined; he invaded the hostile camp, where his daughter was seated in great content between Waltenberg and Gersdorf. The latter approached him with extreme courtesy.

"Herr Councillor, will you kindly appoint an hour when I can call upon you, either to-morrow or the day after?"

Ernsthausen gave him an annihilating glance: "I regret extremely, Herr Gersdorf, that pressing business–"

"Quite right, it is that about which I wish to consult with you," Gersdorf interposed. "The matter concerns the railway company, whose legal representative I am, as you know, and His Excellency the minister has referred me to you. Permit me, however, to visit you at your home instead of at your office, since I have a private matter also to discuss with you."

The Baron was unfortunately in no uncertainty as to what this private matter was, but since he could not refuse to receive the lawyer in his legal capacity, he stood erect with much dignity and answered, coolly, "The day after to-morrow, at five in the afternoon, I shall be at your service."

"I shall be punctual," said Gersdorf, bowing as he took leave of Molly, who thought best at last to comply with the paternal command and to allow herself to be taken home. On the staircase, however, she declared, resolutely, "Papa, the day after to-morrow I will not be locked up again. I mean to be there when my lover presents himself."

"The day after to-morrow you will be in the country," Ernsthausen asserted, with emphasis. "You will depart by the early train; I shall myself see you safely to the railway-carriage, and when you arrive your grand uncle will receive you, and will keep you with him for the present."

Molly's curly head emerged from her white hood in speechless horror. But only for a moment was she silent; then she assumed a warlike attitude: "I will not go, papa. I will not stay with my granduncle; I will run away and come back to town on foot."

"You will hardly do that," said the councillor. "I should think you knew the old gentleman and his principles better. After his death you will be a most distinguished match,–remember that!"

"I wish my granduncle would go to Monaco and gamble away all his money," Molly retorted, sobbing angrily, "or that he would adopt some orphan and leave her every penny he possesses!"

"Good heavens, child, you are mad, absolutely mad!" Ernsthausen exclaimed in desperation, but the little Baroness went on excitedly:

"Then I should be no match at all, and could marry Albert. I mean to pray fervently that my granduncle may commit some such folly, in spite of his seventy years!"

Still sobbing, she sprang into the carriage and buried her face in the cushions. Her father followed her, muttering, "A terrible child!"

The brilliant rooms gradually became more empty and more quiet. One after another the guests took their leave, until finally the president, having bidden farewell to the last, was left alone with Wolfgang in the spacious reception-room.

"Waltenberg bus invited us to inspect his collection of curios," he said. "I shall hardly have time to go, but you–"

"I shall have still less," Elmhorst interposed. "The three days at my disposal are already fully occupied."

"I know, I know, but nevertheless you must escort Alice; she and Erna have accepted Waltenberg's invitation, and I wish them to go."

Wolfgang was surprised; he looked keenly at his future father-in-law for an instant, and then asked, hastily, "Who and what is this Waltenberg, sir? You treat him with extraordinary consideration, and yet he appeared in your house to-night for the first time. Have you known him long?"

"Certainly. His father took part in several of my schemes. A capital, prudent man of business, who would have amassed millions had he lived longer. Unfortunately, the son has inherited none of his practical ability. He prefers to travel all over the earth and to consort with all kinds of savage nations. Well, his property permits him to pursue such follies, and it has just been nearly doubled. His aunt, his father's only unmarried sister, died a few months ago, leaving him her heir. He came home, indeed, only to arrange his affairs, and is already talking of going away again. An incomprehensible man!"

The tone in which Nordheim spoke of the man for whom he had shown such consideration betrayed his entire want of sympathy with him personally, and Elmhorst seemed to be of the same mind, for he instantly observed,–

"I think him insufferable! At table he talked exclusively of his travels, and precisely as if he were delivering a lecture. All you heard was of 'blue depths of water,' 'waving palms,' and 'dreamy lotus-blossoms.' It was intolerable! Fräulein von Thurgau, however, seemed quite carried away by it. I must confess, sir, I thought all this poetic Oriental talk far too confidential for a first interview."

The words were meant to be ironical, but they hardly concealed the speaker's irritation. The president, however, did not observe it, but replied, quietly, "In this case I have no objection to such confidences; quite the contrary."

"That means–you have intentionally brought them together."

"Certainly," Nordheim replied, in some surprise at the eager haste with which the question was put. "Erna is nineteen; it is time to think seriously of her settlement in life, and as her relative and guardian it is my duty to provide for it. The girl is greatly admired in society, but no one has as yet presented himself as her suitor. She has no money."

"No, she has no money," Wolfgang repeated as if mechanically, and his look sought the adjoining room, where the ladies still lingered. Alice was sitting on the sofa, and Erna stood before her, her slender white figure framed in by the door-way.

"I cannot blame the men," the president continued. "Erna's only inheritance is the couple of thousand marks paid for Wolkenstein Court; and although I shall of course furnish my niece with a trousseau, that would be nothing for a man whose demands upon life are at all great. Waltenberg has no need of money,–he is wealthy himself, and of excellent family; in short, a brilliant match. I planned it immediately upon his return, and I think it will succeed."

He explained everything in a cool, business-like fashion, as if the matter under discussion were some new speculation. In fact, the 'settlement' of his niece was for him an affair of business, as had been his daughter's betrothal. In the one case money was necessary in exchange for a bride, in the other intelligence and ability, and Nordheim could express himself with perfect freedom to his future son-in-law, who occupied the same point of view and had acted upon principles similar to his own. But just now the young man's face was strangely pale, and there was an odd expression in the eyes fixed upon the picture framed in by the arched door-way and brilliantly illuminated in the candle-light.

"And you think Fräulein von Thurgau is agreed?" he asked, slowly, at last, without averting his gaze.

"She will not be such a fool as to reject such good fortune. The girl is, to be sure, possessed by unaccountable fancies, obstinate as her father, and on certain points not to be controlled. We scarcely harmonize in our views, any one can see that, but this time I think we shall agree. Such a man as Waltenberg with his eccentricities is precisely after Erna's taste. I think her quite capable of accompanying him in his wanderings, if he cannot make up his mind to relinquish them."

"And why not?" Wolfgang said, harshly. "It is so uncommonly romantic and interesting, life in foreign lands with no occupation and no country. With no duties to exercise any controlling influence, life can be dreamed away beneath the palms in inactive enjoyment. To me such an existence, however, seems pitiable; it would be impossible for me."

"You are really indignant," said Nordheim, amazed at this sudden outburst. "You forget that Waltenberg has always been wealthy. You and I must work to attain eminence; no such necessity exists for him,–he has always occupied the height towards which we must climb. Such men are rarely fit for serious exertion."

He turned to a passing servant and gave him an order. But Wolfgang stood motionless and gloomy, his gaze still fixed upon the white figure 'compounded as it were of air and Alpine snow, with the white fairylike flower of its waters crowning its fair hair,' and inaudibly but with intense bitterness he muttered, "Yes, he is rich, and so he has a right to be happy."

CHAPTER VIII.

ANOTHER CLIME

Waltenberg's dwelling was somewhat remote from the central portion of the city; it was a fine, spacious villa, surrounded by a garden which was almost a park. It had been built by the father of the present possessor, and had been occupied by him until his death. Since then it had been empty, for the son, always travelling in distant lands, was far too wealthy to think of renting it. He left it in charge of a trustworthy person, whose duty it had been to receive, to unpack, and to arrange the various chests and packages sent home by his master from time to time, until now, after the lapse of a decade, the closed doors and windows were again opened, and the desolate rooms showed signs of occupation.

The large balconied apartment in the middle of the house was still furnished precisely as it had been in the lifetime of its former master. There was no magnificence here as in the Nordheim mansion, but on every hand was to be observed the solid comfort of a well-to-do burgher. The persons present at this time in the room, however, looked strangely foreign. A negro black as night, with woolly hair, and a slender, brown Malay lad, both in fantastic Oriental costume, were busy arranging a table with flowers and all kinds of fruits, while a third individual stood in the middle of the room giving the necessary directions.

The dress of this last was European in cut, and seemed to be something between the garb of a sailor and that of a farmer. Its wearer was an elderly man, very tall and thin, but at the same time most powerfully built. His close-cut hair was grizzled here and there, and his furrowed, sunburned face was scarcely less brown than that of the Malay. But from the brown face looked forth a pair of genuine German, blue eyes, and the words that issued from the man's lips were such pure, unadulterated German as is spoken only by those to whom it is the mother-tongue.

"The flowers in the centre!" he ordered. "Herr Waltenberg wishes it to be romantic; he must have his way. Said, boy, don't stand the silver épergnes close together like a pair of grenadiers; put them at either end of the table, and the glasses on the side-table where the wine is to be served. Do you understand?"

"Oh, yes, master," the negro replied, in English.

"And speak German. Do you not know that we are in Germany, on this God-forsaken soil where you freeze stiff in March, and where the sun appears once a month, and then only at the command of the authorities? I detest it, as does Herr Waltenberg. But you must learn German, or, true as my name is Veit Gronau, you'll repent it. You're still half a heathen, and Djelma there is a whole one. See how he stares! Do you understand a word I say, boy?"

The Malay shook his head. Evidently his progress in the German tongue was slow, and the negro, who was much farther advanced, was obliged to come to his assistance frequently.

"It is the master's fault; he talks your gibberish to you too often," Veit Gronau grumbled. "If I did not insist upon your speaking German neither of you would understand a syllable of it. There! now the table is ready. All fruit and flowers, and nothing really fit to eat and drink. That, I suppose, is romantic; I think it crazy, which is very much the same thing, after all."

"Are there ladies coming?" Said asked, inquisitively.

"Unfortunately, yes. It is no pleasure, but an honour, for in this country they are treated with immense respect, very differently from your black and brown women; so behave yourselves!"

He would probably have continued his admonitions, but at this moment the door opened and the master of the house entered. He glanced at the table loaded with flowers and fruit, signed to Said to retire to the antechamber, spoke a few words in some Indian tongue to Djelma, who straightway disappeared, and then turning to Veit Gronau, said, "President Nordheim has sent an excuse, but the rest are coming; Herr Gersdorf has also accepted. You will escape for this time the encounter you have so dreaded, Gronau."

"Dreaded?" the other repeated. "Hardly that! It certainly would have given me no great pleasure to meet an old playmate with whom I was once on most familiar terms, and to be honoured by him with a condescending nod when I was presented to him as a kind of servant."

"As my secretary?" Waltenberg said, with emphasis. "I should not suppose such a position could be in any wise humiliating."

Gronau shrugged his shoulders: "Secretary, steward, travelling companion, all in one. True, you have always treated me like a fellow-countryman, and not as an inferior, Herr Waltenberg. When you picked me up in Melbourne I was very near starvation, and I should have starved but for you. God requite you!"

"Nonsense!" said Ernst, repudiating his gratitude almost harshly. "You were a priceless discovery for me, with your knowledge of languages and your practical experience, and I think we have been well content with each other for these six years. So the president was one of your playmates?"

"Yes, we were the children of neighbours, and grew up together until life parted us, sending one hither and the other thither. He always prophesied to me, and to Benno Reinsfeld, who was one of us, that I should be a poor devil."

Waltenberg had gone to the window, and was looking out with some impatience while nevertheless listening attentively. The youth of the man whom he had known only in the midst of wealth and luxury seemed to interest him.

"Of course all three of us entertained vast schemes for the future," Veit continued, with good-humoured self-ridicule. "I was to go abroad and return a wealthy nabob, Reinsfeld was to astound the world with some wonderful invention; we were boys who imagined that the universe belonged to us. But Nordheim, the wise, poured cold water upon our heated brains. 'Neither of you will ever achieve anything,' said he, 'for you do not understand expediency.' We jeered at the calculator of twenty with his wonderful sagacity, but he was right. I have wandered about the world, and have tried my hand at everything, but I have always been poor as a church mouse, and Reinsfeld with all his talent was left in the lurch as a paltry engineer, while our comrade Nordheim is a millionaire and a railway king,–because he understood expediency."

"He certainly has always understood that," Waltenberg said, coolly. "He occupies an extremely influential position– But there come our guests."

He hastily left the window and went to receive his friends. A carriage had drawn up before the door, bringing Frau von Lasberg and Alice, escorted by Elmhorst. Wolfgang had not succeeded in evading the duty of accompanying his betrothed, and he had no excuse for refusing an invitation which his future father-in law regarded with such favour. He therefore submitted to necessity, but any one who knew him could see that, in spite of the extreme courtesy with which he greeted his host, he was making a great sacrifice. The two men, who had instinctively disliked each other from the first, hid their antipathy under a strictly courteous demeanour.

"Fräulein von Thurgau is late; she drove to the court-councillor's to call for Baroness Ernsthausen." Frau von Lasberg, who gave this information, was rather surprised by it herself. She had supposed that Molly was in the country under the secure guardianship of her granduncle; instead of which a note had arrived in the morning for Erna begging her to call for her on her way to Herr Waltenberg's. Her journey must have been postponed, probably for several days. But the old lady's surprise was transformed to indignation upon the entrance of Herr Gersdorf. Actually a rendezvous! And the ladies of Nordheim's family were made accomplices as it were, since Molly was under their protection. This must not be concealed from the girl's parents: they should hear of it this very day; and Frau von Lasberg, who was not at all inclined to play the part of a guardian-angel, received Herr Gersdorf with icy coldness. Unfortunately, it did not produce the slightest impression upon him; there was an expression of great content upon his grave features, and he took part in the conversation with unusual readiness.