Life in a German Crack Regiment

This evening she was to meet him again. There was a great reception at the American ambassador's, and she was delighted at the prospect of seeing him. She had dressed herself specially well for his benefit, and had put on a new costume which her aunt had just given her. In pleasant anticipation of the entertainment she had begun to dress sooner than usual, and now a quarter of an hour before it was time to go she was standing in front of the looking-glass and regarding herself smilingly. She was pleased with her own beauty, and knew that to-day, at any rate, she would once again arouse admiration.

She was standing deep in thought when a knock at the door aroused her. "Is it time yet? I am quite ready. I'll come at once."

"Madam has plenty of time. The carriage is not yet at the door, but there is an express message for you."

Hildegarde was alarmed. An express letter for her! Whatever could have happened?

She opened the door and took the letter from the girl, and she shuddered involuntarily when she recognised her brother's handwriting.

"Oh, dear!" She threw the letter on the table with annoyance. Without opening she knew perfectly well that it contained a request for money. A feeling of repugnance came over her. "Why should he spoil my pleasure just at this moment? How can I possibly ask my aunt for anything when she has just given me this costly dress?" All her pleasure had vanished. "Well," she said to herself at last, "the letter shall not spoil my temper to-day. I shall read it to-morrow, or this evening, when I get back again."

An inward feeling of anxiety, however, caused her to tear open the envelope, and she read:

"Dear little Hildegarde, – You know the old story how the watchman summoned a woman out of bed and called out to her: 'Mrs. Meyer, you are going to have a terrible shock; your husband is dead.' Well, I say to you now, dear Hildegarde, don't be frightened, but I must have four thousand marks. The deuce take it, but I haven't had a bit of luck lately. Yesterday morning I had a whole heap of dunning letters. I didn't know myself where all the people came from who suddenly demanded money. Where on earth am I to get it from without stealing it? So I tried my luck at cards, but the luck was against me, and when I woke up this morning with a splitting headache I found I had lost four thousand marks. Thank heaven I have three days' respite, but then I must settle the affair, or nothing else remains but to put the necessary bullet through my head. You know that other debts don't worry me, but gambling debts are debts of honour, and there must be no fleck on our honour. Rather than this, we must make our exit from this world. Better die than be dishonoured. So, dear Hilda, I must have four brown bits of paper, and you must manage to get them for me. I ask you this with much less reluctance than usual, because I hear with the greatest joy that you are just about to be engaged. Well, it's high time, Hilda, both for you and for us. Don't disappoint us again. You have gone off considerably during the last year or so. When I saw you last I had quite a shock. Don't misunderstand me. You are still, of course, a very pretty girl, but nothing compared with what you were. Well, the main thing now is for you to capture this Winkler or whatever he's called. What sort of a man is he? Aunt writes to mother that he pays you the very greatest attention. You can imagine how beside themselves with joy they are at home. Father wrote to me that in honour of the welcome news he had immediately completed his wine cellar, and like a chivalrous gentleman he drank your health in French champagne. He can't stand that German stuff any longer. Father suffers frightfully from indigestion, you know. Aunt tells us also that your future father-in-law manufactures buttons. It's a frightful idea, but is it really true? However, the main thing is that he manufactures enough of them! Keep him tight! You have fine eyes, use them well and you'll secure him. And when you are once engaged, which it is to be hoped will be within the next few days, then hurry on the marriage, so that he may not have time for regrets, and before he learns how we are reckoning on his money. When he's once my brother-in-law I'll manage to extract the ducats from him. I don't feel in the least anxious about that!

"Well, Hilda, I've written enough for to-day. I have to go on duty, the colonel has just summoned a meeting of officers to read out to us again the most stringent regulations concerning Courts of Honour. Isn't it ridiculous nonsense! As if one didn't know how to behave as an honourable gentleman indeed! If a man doesn't feel these things he doesn't learn them by yawning more or less loudly while these endless regulations are read out to him.

"Send me, please, the four thousand marks; uncle will give it you at once if you tell him it will be paid back directly after your marriage. Let me impress this upon you: have your marriage contract drawn up at a lawyer's, and mind you have a good income settled upon you. In your place, I wouldn't accept less than forty thousand marks a year. The fellow must expect to pay something for marrying into such a distinguished family. However, I must tell you that, in spite of the French champagne which father was only able to get on credit on the strength of your approaching marriage, things at home are in a frightful condition. Father wrote and asked me to send him a few thousand, or at least a few hundred marks if I won at cards. Ah, if the old gentleman had an idea of the terrible hole I am in! Now, dear Hilda, arrange your affairs satisfactorily. With love and kisses. – Your affectionate brother,

"Fritz."

Every drop of blood vanished from Hildegarde's face as she read the letter. She stood motionless, and a feeling of repugnance came over her, as it often did when she had news from home. She tore the letter into a thousand pieces and stamped them under foot.

Then she sank into a chair and buried her face in her hands. "They ought to be ashamed of writing to me in this way," she moaned. "Just imagine their regarding me as a chattel that is to be sold to the highest bidder. What is it that Fritz writes? – 'He must expect to pay something if he marries into our distinguished family.' Distinguished family!" and she laughed bitterly. "Bankrupts, gamblers, men with whom nobody would have anything to do if it were not that they owned noble names and wore uniforms. A man has only to wear an officer's uniform and belong to an aristocratic family, and, of course, he is a man of honour."

She roused herself from her meditations when her aunt came in to inquire whether she was dressed, and when she saw Hildegarde's face she clasped her hands in horror.

"But, Hildegarde, whatever is the matter? What has happened?"

Hildegarde shrugged her shoulders contemptuously. "What has happened! You can see by these pieces on the floor. Fritz has been gambling again, he needs four thousand marks. I am to ask you for it." Then suddenly she burst forth with passionate indignation: "Aunt, how could you tell them at home that my engagement with Lieutenant Winkler was about to take place? You ought not to have done such a thing; the consequences have been serious. On the strength of their prospective son-in-law and brother-in-law, both my father and Fritz have contracted all kinds of debts. And I do not really know if Lieutenant Winkler even loves me. I scarcely think so, but if he should get to love me and want to marry me, then I know what I shall do: I shall open his eyes to everything. When he asks for my hand I shall tell him how I have been sent for years to Berlin in order to get a rich husband; how my relatives reckon on his money, and what they think of his plebeian birth. I shall tell him everything, for even if I do not love Lieutenant Winkler, I honour him and respect him too highly to deceive him. He shall know and understand clearly into what an honourable family he is about to marry. I shall tell him everything!"

"You will do no such thing." Frau von Warnow had listened to Hildegarde, speechless with amazement, and it was quite a long time before she regained her composure. "You will do no such thing," she repeated with anger. "You have not only your duty to your own people, but to us also. I will not remind you of what we have already done for you. It is true we are rich, but, in spite of this, naturally we should not have given you, your parents and your brother, hundreds and hundreds of pounds if we had not taken it for granted that you would have repaid us in some way or other. When you say that you will tell Lieutenant Winkler everything before marriage, you say something that is simply ridiculous. The four thousand marks won't matter in the least to him with all his money, and you may be sure he's clever enough to know that a beautiful girl only marries a middle-class lieutenant for his money. If you tell him everything beforehand you warn him, to a certain extent, against marrying you, and then he can't very well help drawing back. And then, what will you do?"

Hildegarde shrugged her beautiful shoulders. "What shall I do? I don't mind in the least. I shouldn't starve. As I told you before, I should get a situation of some kind or other."

Her aunt laughed contemptuously: "You are out of your mind! What do you know, I say? What can you do? Have you any idea of housekeeping, cooking, domestic work? You certainly couldn't get a post as a companion. You are not a good musician, you don't read aloud well, your knowledge of foreign languages is practically nil. So how could you earn your living?" She spoke with the bitterest irony, but when she saw the look of despair on Hildegarde's face, sympathy got the better of her, and almost tenderly she put her arm round the girl's neck. "Don't be so sad, it will turn out better than you think. I can quite understand that Fritz's letter has terribly upset you, but he doesn't mean it all. I will talk to your uncle to-day about sending the money. He shall send it, or I will. And now, hold your head high. It is high time for us to go."

"Yes, do go, aunt, but let me stay at home. I am really not in the mood to go to a party."

"What? Hildegarde," – her aunt thought she could not have heard rightly – "you want to stay at home? That would never do. Especially to-day when the court has promised to put in an appearance, you must not fail to be there. And do you imagine that I had this costly new costume made for you to take it off and put it in your wardrobe? Whatever answer should I give when people inquired after you?"

A sorrowful little laugh played round Hildegarde's mouth.

"Nobody will ask after me; they will be delighted not to see me."

"And what about Lieutenant Winkler? What am I to say to him when he makes inquiries after you?"

Hildegarde looked at her aunt with wide-open eyes.

"Do you not really understand that it is precisely on his account that I don't want to go to the reception? It would be simply impossible for me to talk to him naturally and pleasantly after Fritz's letter and our conversation." Suddenly, however, she changed her mind: "No, you are quite right. I will not allow the day, to which I have so greatly looked forward, to be spoiled."

Her aunt embraced her tenderly:

"That is quite right, my child. Come along now, the carriage is at the door."

They drove immediately to the embassy. They were somewhat late, rows and rows of carriages were drawn up before the gates, and it was long before their carriage could drive in. Herr and Frau von Warnow conversed about the occupants of the other carriages, which were close by them, exchanged remarks concerning the elegance of their various acquaintances, and passed the time in wondering which of the royalties would put in an appearance to-day. Hildegarde sat silent in her corner. In answer to her uncle she had pleaded a headache, and Frau von Warnow had given her husband a sign not to pursue the matter. So she could remain undisturbed in her thoughts. What had really made her change her mind and go to the reception? A sudden desire had sprung up in her to meet George, to see and converse with an honourable man. She did not exactly know how she was to do it, but she had made up her mind to stick to her resolution and to say to him: "Pay your court to some one who is worthier of you than I am." Before she would accept any more attentions from him she wanted to tell him about her father and brother. If then he continued to treat her with peculiar chivalry, and to endeavour to win her hand, her conscience would be quite free, and she could look him in the face honestly and straightforwardly.

"Aren't you ever going to get out, Hildegarde?"

Hildegarde got out. She had sat in her corner with closed eyes, and did not notice that the footman had been holding open the door for a long time. She followed the others, and a quarter of an hour later she walked into the enormous reception-rooms in which a brilliant company was assembled. There were endless greetings and hand-shakings, endless inquiries after health and the events of the last few days. Everybody was constantly looking with expectation towards the door, for the court party was momentarily expected. Although no one, of course, would have confessed it, all were consumed with anxiety to see whether His Majesty would notice and talk to them, and distinguish them by shaking hands. Each one hoped that he would enjoy this distinction. Nobody wanted the other to have it, and each hoped, in secret, that he alone would be noticed by the Emperor.

George was standing by Hildegarde's side. She noticed how he had sought her out, though she had hoped to avoid him, but her tall figure prevented him from losing sight of her. She feigned, however, to be astonished when he suddenly said: "How do you do?" to her, but she read in his eyes that he had seen through her little ruse, and without further preamble he said to her: "Are you vexed with me for any reason, baroness?"

She looked at him frankly and honestly. "No, certainly not."

His face lit up. "That's all right, then." After a slight pause he said: "You avoided me. Is it at all disagreeable to you for me to be by your side?"

Again she cast a frank look at him. "Not at all," and then somewhat hesitatingly she added: "Will you be so kind as to take me in to supper this evening?" She really meant to say: "I want to talk to you," but she could not get out the words.

He bowed gratefully. "If we should lose sight of each other in this crowd, baroness, let us meet again at this place, if it is agreeable to you."

She nodded agreement, and stepped back a little, for at this moment the royal party was announced. A mysterious stillness reigned, the stir of voices was hushed; everyone looked at His Majesty, who had come into the room, and smiling graciously, walked down the long row of bowed figures. Here and there he stopped and exchanged a friendly word or handshake, and everybody who enjoyed this distinction was almost annihilated by his neighbours' envious glances.

Suddenly His Majesty stopped in front of George and graciously extended his hand. "Ah, you are here, dear Winkler. How are you? To-day I received a very interesting report from your father. I must have a talk with him as soon as possible, and then you must come with your father and dine with me."

George bent his head to kiss his sovereign's hand, and as he did so, the Emperor noticed Hildegarde, and greeted her with a friendly smile. "Are you still turning the heads of all my lieutenants, baroness?" he asked playfully; "though that is easy enough when one is as beautiful as you are." And with a laughing glance he passed on.

In the stillness that reigned, His Majesty's words had been heard by the whole room, and now all eyes were turned on Hildegarde and George, who were naturally delighted at the honour that had fallen to them, although they were a little embarrassed at the harmless badinage. They stood there silently, and were glad when the people began to talk and walk about again. They did not see each other again till midnight, when supper was announced. As usual, it was set out on small tables, and George was fortunate in finding one at which the guests were unknown to him, and so he could talk undisturbed to Hildegarde. However, they were temporarily the objects of their companions' notice, and some of the ladies spoke freely about the remarks which the Emperor had made about Hildegarde. Indeed one, a haggard, tall woman, examined Hildegarde most impertinently through her lorgnette, and then said half aloud: "Well, I can't understand why His Majesty should think her so good-looking."

Hildegarde threw a perfectly frank glance at the speaker and laughed aloud, then she turned to George and said: "I cannot tell you how delighted I am at the words the Emperor addressed to you. I am firmly convinced you will now at once take your right position both in Society and in the regiment, which before you were unable to do."

George shrugged his shoulders. "I scarcely think so, baroness. I fear these gracious words will have done me more harm than good. People will grudge both me and my father praise from so exalted a quarter. However, I am not going to let that spoil my pleasure in the public recognition of my father. Do me the honour of drinking to his health."

"With the greatest of pleasure," and the glasses clicked.

"I want you to know my father, baroness," George went on: "you would like him, though naturally most of the people here would not. They would never pardon him for not wearing well-starched cuffs, and for not tying his cravat in the proper manner. I think, however, you would like him. Perhaps the next time he comes to Berlin I might introduce him to you? He is bringing my sister with him, and, as I have so often told her about you in my letters, she is most anxious to make your acquaintance."

Hildegarde was somewhat embarrassed at these words. Then he had also told his people about her, perhaps even he had confessed that he meant to win her hand. The remembrance of her brother's letter came back to her. She must tell him all before it was too late. How was she to do it? Nobody was paying any attention to their conversation, but how was she to express what she wanted to say? As he had not told her what his intentions were, she could not very well say to him: "Don't think of wooing; on account of my family I will not and cannot be your wife." And yet if without further explanations she spoke about their poverty at home, might it not occur to him that perhaps she expected help from him or his father. She could find no way out of the difficulty. Then she wondered why he had never spoken to her about his sister. She was much astonished, and at last she said: "Have you a sister, then, Lieutenant Winkler? Why did you never tell me about her?"

He looked at her surprised: "What! did I never tell you about her? You mustn't take that amiss, for I had no intention of not talking about her to you."

"And why should you not talk about her to other people?" she inquired, with some curiosity.

George was embarrassed, and blushed like a child. "I can't exactly explain it. Perhaps it is that when one loves anybody very much one does not speak much about them to anyone. And even if I had wanted to talk about her, to whom should I have talked? In the regiment no one takes the faintest interest in me, far less in my family, and naturally, I don't talk about such matters unless I am asked." Then, after a slight pause, he continued: "And there's another reason why I don't care to talk about Elsa."

"And what is that?" Hildegarde asked, as he was silent.

"I don't know how to express in words exactly what I want to say. I don't want to appear suspicious of my comrades, neither do I wish to represent myself as a model of virtue, which, indeed, I am not, and could not be, at twenty-seven years old. But I can't help saying that at mess my fellow-officers have a way of talking about young girls, whom they meet in Society, which is simply revolting to me. No, not revolting, that's too strong," he corrected himself. "I am simply astounded, and constantly say to myself: 'Haven't these officers sisters, and haven't their mothers taught them any respect and reverence for women; so that they don't treat all alike?' In my old regiment it was quite different; we were not perhaps more moral men, but in the little town where we were brought into such close relationship with the few families, we could not criticise the young girls so freely and so shamelessly. I remember how once at dinner an officer went so far as to make an insulting remark about one of the ladies. The orderlies were sent out of the room, and the oldest officer at the table, an old captain, read the young lieutenant such a lecture before us all, that he never said a single word in excuse."

"That is as it ought to be," said Hildegarde.

"Certainly," George agreed, "that is why I am astonished that our officers don't feel like that. If only the girls, who so often regard a lieutenant as the paragon of perfection, knew, or could hear with their own ears how the officers talk about them after they have been to an entertainment, they would blush with shame, and a lieutenant would soon cease to be their ideal. There are, of course, exceptions, thank God! but most of my fellow-officers are as I have just described, and it is the same in other regiments; to them a woman is just like a horse – a thing to be examined and appraised. How is it, I wonder, that a young girl is of so little account to a lieutenant, that he talks of her without the least respect? I have often thought over the matter. Is it, perhaps due to their education? Most of them grow up in the regiment; they have no home life; they only see their sisters and their friends when on leave; as cadets, they go into Society to make conquests, and each conquest helps to lower all young girls in their eyes. Perhaps the girls themselves are to a certain extent answerable for this state of affairs. In Society there exists no one but a lieutenant for them, they ignore a civilian, unless he happens to be a reserve officer. The lieutenant simply goes about in pursuit of conquest, and often he wins the victory only too easily. I cannot speak of this from my own experience. I am a stranger here, but I have often heard my comrades talk of young girls who push themselves forward, send them love-letters, and who do not even wait until they are asked to give a rendezvous, but ask permission to be allowed to visit the officers, either in a friend's house, or in the officers' quarters."

"But, Lieutenant Winkler," interrupted Hildegarde, "no lady would do such a thing."

"She certainly ought not to do so," he agreed, "but, nevertheless, she does. Just give a glance at the select company here. How many of these aristocratic ladies have not a more or less harmless intrigue with a lieutenant? It is not only the married ladies, I can assure you. Those young girls trip about so modestly and chastely, yet their great pride is that, in spite of their youth, they have had a past."

Hildegarde knew only too well that he was right. She remembered how most of the friends of her youth had had a lieutenant lover. How often had she not spoken to them about this, and reproached them, but all had given the same answer: "Why shouldn't I have a lover? the others have, and what's the use of being young and beautiful? Do you think that our blood remains calm when a man pays court to us the whole evening, presses us closely to him when dancing, and casts longing glances at us? Are we to wait till we have a husband? We may wait a long time, perhaps for ever, and what then? Do you want us to die without having had experience of life? How ridiculous!"

They told one another with truly cynical frankness how they managed to deceive their parents and prevent any consequence of their intrigues. Perhaps Hildegarde was naturally too cold and too lacking in passion to understand her friends. Above all, she could not understand the officers who, more than all others, ought to be regarded as honourable men, and who yet made no scruples of entering into a liaison with the wife or daughter of the house where they enjoyed the pleasantest social relations.

Hildegarde and George sat for a long time occupied with their own thoughts. George misinterpreted Hildegarde's silence. He thought she was perhaps vexed with his remarks, and so he said:

"I hope you are not angry with me for having spoken so freely and frankly in your presence; but we have both of us been brought up among quite different circumstances and educated in quite different views."