CHAPTER XX.
[LINAU].
The mansion-house of Linau, the German corruption of the Polish Linorov, is by no means an imposing residence. Many a wealthy peasant in Saxony can boast of a home grander in appearance than the seat of the ancient noble family which Hugo von Wangen inherited from his father, and in which he was living at present with his young wife and his orphan sister, four years after his marriage. Before his father's death the young couple had occupied a small but comfortable farm-house on the estate, to which Hugo had brought his bride, and where, in accordance with his father's ideas as to the frugality and economy proper to be observed by young people just beginning life, they would still have been residing, had not his father died two years after his son's marriage and bequeathed to him the large manor-house itself.
The old Herr left only two children behind him, a son and a daughter, the latter a child twelve years of age. His will declared his son Hugo the heir of his landed estate, and arranged that the daughter, whose inheritance consisted of a mortgage upon the estate, should find a home in her brother's house.
Hugo von Wangen gladly fulfilled the duty thus imposed upon him. He loved his sister dearly, and needed no injunction from his father to induce him to act the part of an affectionate protector to the girl, whose mother died shortly after her birth, having received her son's solemn promise that he would be a faithful brother to little Clara.
Thus, since the death of his father, Hugo von Wangen, with his wife and sister, had inhabited the manor-house of Linau. It was a low, rambling assemblage of buildings, quite large enough for Hugo's wishes, as it had been for those of his father, who had for many years lived happily in it with his family and kept open house. The guest-chambers were seldom empty, the hospitality of the host had always been generous, and although the style of living had been devoid of pretension to modern elegance, there had never been any lack of comfort in the old Von Wangen manor-house.
For Hugo, every piece of the quaint, old-fashioned furniture, every nook and corner of the house, suggested some incident of his childhood, some tender recollection of the mother and father whose memory he revered; but to his young, pleasure-loving wife the place was odious. She begged that at least the old furniture might be banished, to give place to what was more worthy of a Herr von Wangen. To this Hugo would in no wise consent, and it was with great reluctance that he yielded so far to his wife's wishes as to have the finest of the rooms--one which opened by folding doors upon a large balcony built out over the garden--given over entirely to her and newly furnished and decorated according to her taste. In all the other rooms the old articles of furniture in which he delighted remained untouched, contrasting oddly enough with the gorgeous arrangements of the garden-room, as it was called. Here Bertha spent most of her time, sitting in the balcony when the weather was fine, and receiving there the frequent visitors, who now as formerly were seldom wanting at Linau.
The tin roof of this addition to the garden-room protected it from sun and rain, and that it might be thoroughly warmed in winter Bertha had it enclosed with sashes of glass, which could be opened and closed at will.
Here, oh a sultry day in August, we find Bertha, something more than four years after we last saw her in Osternau. The glass doors and sashes of the balcony were all wide open to admit every breath of air, and the fair mistress of the house was leaning back in an arm-chair, fanning herself lazily with a large lace fan, and evidently wearied and discontent.
There was not the faintest breeze stirring, and, low in the west, dark masses of clouds were slowly gathering; the afternoon sun was already hidden behind them, and they were mounting high above the tall shrubbery that bounded the lawn of the garden below the balcony.
"It is insufferably hot and sultry," Bertha sighed, laying aside the novel she had been reading. "In this wretched climate one either freezes with cold or melts with heat. Such a thing as a fair, mild summer afternoon is positively unknown in this odious Western Prussia."
Did she speak in soliloquy, or were her words addressed to the young lady who, seated at some distance at a table in the centre of the spacious balcony, was busy correcting a sketch by Clara, Hugo's young sister, who stood by intensely interested in the operation? It was impossible to say, for, as she spoke, Bertha's glance was directed to the distant horizon, and she fanned herself uninterruptedly. Nevertheless she expected an answer, and, receiving none, the movement of her fan grew more energetic, and there was a degree of ill humour in the voice with which she said, sharply, "Elise!"
There was such atone of command in the word that she who was thus addressed, and who was bending over the drawing on the table, looked up from it startled. Her charming face flushed slightly as she left her place and approached Bertha in obedience to her call.
"I really think you might reply to me when I speak to you," the latter said, as if aggrieved.
"I beg pardon! I really did not know that your remark was addressed to me."
"To whom else could I be speaking? You cannot think me so silly as to sit here talking to myself. Do try to pay a little attention to me."
Every word was uttered with an evident intention to be disagreeable, but no retort was provoked from the person addressed. In fact, she had no time to reply before her young pupil eagerly took up her defence. Clara threw down her pencil and turned sharply to her sister-in-law: "What is it, Bertha? What has Elise done to provoke you? How should she know that your criticism of West Prussia was addressed to her? It might as well have been uttered for my benefit, and you may be sure I should have taken up the cudgels if I had not been so busy over this miserable drawing."
The child was most attractive in her eager defence of her teacher, but Bertha's ill humour made her blind to any charm in her little sister, to whom she administered a sharp rebuke for want of respect to her brother's wife, adding, "I cannot see. Elise, that your teaching is likely to produce any very fine results here. Clara grows too pert and insubordinate. I really must ask Hugo to have her sent to some one of our many admirable boarding-schools, where she may have the advantage of stricter discipline than any that can be exerted over her at home."
"No need to try that," Clara retorted; "Hugo never will consent. Papa has taken care of that, I know."
"Clara, Clara!" her governess interposed.
"Let me speak, Elise," Clara went on, putting aside the warning hand extended to her; "I must for this once. I cannot see why Bertha should treat you as she has so often done since you came to us, a month ago. I cannot help speaking of it. I love you dearly, and I will not have any one unkind to you if I can help it."
"Surely, Elise," Bertha said, angrily, "you must see that I am not called upon to endure this patiently. Fortunately, there comes Hugo: he will know how to put a stop to Clara's impertinence."
Hugo von Wangen was returning from an expedition to the neighboring town of G----. He had driven thither in the early morning, and had hastened his return to Linau that he might escape the storm threatening in the west. His vehicle was just entering the court-yard, whence he came immediately through the garden-room out on the balcony.
Hugo von Wangen had changed greatly in the past four years; the shy, retiring youth had developed into a strong, capable man. The good-natured expression of his kindly face was, however, unaltered, it was even more pronounced than it had formerly been. He could hardly be called a handsome man, but he certainly was pleasant to look upon.
As he appeared upon the balcony he was so pleased with his speedy return and the happy termination of his business in town, that he did not observe the frown upon his wife's brow.
"Fortunately back again before the storm," he called out, gaily. "How are you, darling?" As he spoke he bent above his wife and gave her a resounding kiss upon her forehead, took Clara's head between his hands and kissed her likewise, and then bowed to the governess with a cordial, "Good-day, Fräulein Lieschen."
"Indeed, Hugo, I must beg you to dispense with the babyish 'Lieschen' in addressing a young lady of twenty-one," his wife said, sharply.
"You're right, my dear," he replied, good-humouredly. "I forget myself, Fräulein Lieschen comes so naturally to my lips; but I shall learn not to use it; so good-day, Fräulein von Osternau. I am so glad to be at home again, and I have had such a pleasure to-day. I met an old acquaintance, or rather an old friend, most unexpectedly in G----. Guess who it was, my dear,--you know him, and so do you, Fräulein Lieschen,--I mean Fräulein von Osternau."
Bertha had no desire to guess. She was contemplating preferring a complaint of Clara's disrespect, but her interest was aroused when Wangen went on eagerly,--
"No, you could not possibly guess. Just as I had got into the carriage to drive off from G----, whom should I see coming striding down the street but my dear old friend Storting? I jumped out of the carriage, and he was as much delighted as I was at our meeting. I should have liked to talk for an hour with him, but the skies looked so threatening I had to leave, and he too was in a great hurry to get back to Plagnitz before the storm came up."
"Plagnitz?" Bertha asked. "Is not that Herr von Ernau's estate?"
"Yes, and that is the strangest part of the whole story: Storting is now Herr von Ernau's head inspector."
At the sound of the name Ernau, Elise's attention was evidently attracted.
"Herr von Ernau?" she said. "Is that the same man----" Her glance fell upon Bertha, and she hesitated slightly. "I mean the Herr Egon von Ernau who----"
"You need not hesitate, Fräulein von Osternau," Wangen interposed with a laugh. "You can with an easy mind ask whether it is the same Herr von Ernau who ran away from the most charming of women, who was declared dead, and who afterwards came to life again, and has since been travelling or something of the kind. I am far too grateful to him for his folly, and I think Bertha is likewise, to find anything disagreeable in the recollection of him; indeed, I am quite curious to make his acquaintance."
"Does he live in this neighborhood?" Elise asked, evidently greatly interested.
"His principal estate, Plagnitz, is scarcely two miles from Linau, but he is not living there at present. No one knows exactly where he is. All his letters and papers are sent to his father's banking establishment in Berlin. Herr von Ernau has hitherto seemed to take very little interest in the management of his estates, except that a few years ago his requirements as to the accounts and remittances from Plagnitz became much more strict than they were formerly. His old superintendent, Sieveking, told me that he had never been there but twice, the last time about four years ago. On that occasion he made a very exact inspection of the entire estate, informed himself of every particular of its management, and took copious notes in his notebook, since which time he has never revisited the place, nor have any orders been received from him. He informed the superintendent when he left, at the end of two weeks, that he was about to undertake an extensive agricultural tour, and that he intended at some future time to assume the superintendence of his estates himself, but that in order to do so he must acquire a thorough knowledge of agriculture. Since then nothing has been heard of him at Plagnitz. He must be a queer fellow. I really am curious to know him. I suppose he will be back here some day. What do you say, Bertha, should not you like to see this eccentricity face to face?"
"I really care nothing about it," Bertha said, shrugging her shoulders indifferently.
"But I do. I should like to know how Storting will get along with him," her husband went on; "he has never seen him, he has not even corresponded with him. Five weeks ago he saw in one of the country papers that a head inspector was wanted on the baronial estate of Plagnitz, further particulars to be obtained at the office of the banking firm of A. C. Ernau & Co., Berlin. He addressed a letter to that office, inquiring as to the terms upon which the place could be obtained, declaring himself an applicant for the situation, and offering to furnish testimonials as to his capacity to fulfil its duties. Two weeks after sending this letter he received a most amazing reply; any stipulations which he might make were acceded to beforehand, including the amount of his salary; it was entirely unnecessary to send in any testimonials; it was desirable that he should enter upon the duties of his office as soon as possible, to which end he was directed to report at his earliest convenience to Herr Sieveking, the administrator, who was instructed to comply with all his requirements and to conclude the engagement with him. The letter enclosed three hundred marks for travelling expenses. Of course Storting instantly betook himself to Plagnitz; old Sieveking, who has been ailing for some time, and greatly in need of assistance in his duties, received him with delight, and thus Storting has been installed at Plagnitz as head inspector for more than two weeks, without ever handing in a single testimonial as to his ability."
"He deserves such confidence," Elise said. "He is an honest, excellent man, prudent, conscientious, diligent, and an admirable superintendent. My father trusted him entirely."
"And he merited it, as I know well," said Wangen. "Had I known that he was unemployed I should have engaged him at any price; but how in the world did they know of his admirable qualifications in the Ernau counting-room? It is unprecedented, the engaging of a head inspector without any examination of his testimonials."
Elise made no reply, but the shadowy smile that hovered about her mouth seemed to indicate that she had her own opinion with regard to what was so incomprehensible to Wangen, who dwelt at length upon the unaccountable bestowal of Herr von Ernau's confidence. He was very sorry that he had been able to have only five minutes of conversation with Storting, but he was resolved to drive over to Plagnitz shortly and have a talk with his friend about the dear old times.
At mention of the dear old times Elise sighed, whereupon Bertha bestowed upon her a glance of displeasure: she too remembered them, but they were anything but dear to her. Suddenly recalling in her displeasure her cause of offence with Clara, she said, ill-humouredly, "We have had enough of your Herr Storting for the present: the account of your meeting him drove out of my head for a while the urgent request I was about to make you that Clara should be sent to boarding-school. You have no idea how pert and headstrong the child is becoming. Elise seems quite unable to govern her, and I really must appeal to you, both for the girl's sake and my own. Elise's incapacity is a great disadvantage to her pupil."
"That is not true!" Clara declared.
"Hush, Clara! I am talking with your brother and guardian."
"But, Bertha, I cannot hush when you say what is not true. You began our quarrel, and Elise did all she could to prevent it. It was your fault that I was pert; you made me angry by threatening to ask Hugo to send me away from here----"
"That is precisely what I ask of him," Bertha angrily declared. "You hear, Hugo, how impertinent the child is. You cannot hesitate as to what should be done."
She was angrier than her husband had ever before seen her, but her anger became her. To Hugo she looked adorably beautiful, with her large black eyes flashing, her cheeks flushed, and her lovely lip curled. He did not like angry people, he was too easy and good-natured himself, but even anger charmed him in his wife. He said, smiling, "My darling, my darling, you exaggerate. Fräulein von Osternau, will you have the goodness to take Clara to her room for a while, that I may quietly discuss this matter with my wife?"
Elise inclined her head in assent and withdrew, taking Clara with her. The girl went willingly, but cast a glance of defiance at her sister-in-law as she left the room, thus further exasperating Bertha's angry mood. "Surely, Hugo," she said, when the husband and wife were alone together, "you cannot wish to expose me to such insult at the hands of a child? I cannot have Clara in the house any longer."
"You will listen to reason, darling," Wangen replied, in his easy, good-humoured way, "when your present irritation has subsided. You know how gladly I comply with every wish of yours if I can do so, but you must not require of me the impossible. Clara is my only sister. I promised my mother on her death-bed to be a father to her, and I promised my father never to allow her to leave me, except to become the wife of some worthy man. I cannot break such promises; and really the child is good at heart and affectionate; she is a little pert and forward, perhaps, but she responds instantly to kindness. You see how devotedly attached she has become to Elise."
"That is just it. Although you will not see it, they are leagued against me. Elise hates me. Years ago, at Castle Osternau, she showed only too plainly her invincible dislike of me. I never can forget how I was forced then to feign affection for her, and how she never neglected an opportunity to repulse me. Then I was dependent, now it is her turn,--her turn to feign and dissemble, although I can see how it galls her pride to do so."
"My dear Bertha, what do you mean? If I did not know how really kind and good you are, such words as these would make me doubt you; but I know you better. It was your proposal to engage Lieschen for Clara's governess, and to give her a salary so large as to enable her to support her poor mother. Your unwillingness to suffer the unfortunate girl to go among strangers bore testimony to your goodness of heart."
Bertha's expression of face, as her husband spoke thus, was not pleasant to see. "We'll say nothing more of Elise," she said. "She can remain here as my companion, but Clara must be sent to boarding-school."
"I told you that I could not break my promise. I must tell you now that by the conditions of my father's will I could not if I would. I did not wish to annoy you, and so I have hitherto refrained from explaining these conditions to you, but there is no help for it. You must know that it is impossible to send Clara away if we would retain possession of the estates."
"But how can this be? Explain to me exactly how your father's will is expressed."
"I should greatly prefer not doing so, but, since there is no help for it, you must know that in the last years of his life my father regarded you with a certain suspicion which I could not allay. He conceived an idea that when he was no longer here you would use your influence with me to induce me to remove to Berlin, and that you would find in Clara an obstacle to your schemes. I did all I could to disabuse him of his mistrust of you, dear, but in vain, and he gave it expression in his will, by which I am not the proprietor of the estates; their income is mine only so long as Clara is brought up beneath my roof. Upon the day of her marriage, if she lives until then with me, the estates become my own. My father had a horror of boarding-schools for girls, and expressly forbade my sending Clara to any such. Should I transgress the injunctions laid upon me by his will, Clara becomes his residuary legatee. The value of his property is legally appraised, and my share will be only that which the law allows me. The same result will ensue should Clara, through my own or my wife's unkindness, be forced to leave my house before she is of age; as to the sufficiency of her provocation the courts would decide. My father provided for all possible contingencies. The will is drawn up by an admirable lawyer, Councillor Herder, and I could not possibly evade its provisions, even should I be so lacking in filial respect as to endeavour to do so."
"Does Clara know of all this?"
"I believe Councillor Herder has informed her upon the subject. She is a great pet of his, as you know, and he is her godfather. You know, too, that he has always been somewhat prejudiced against you; indeed, dear, you have not treated him with quite the respect due to an old friend of the family. And now you see that I could not send Clara away from home if I would, and I frankly confess to you that even if I could I would not. Only try to win the child's affection and it will be given to you without reserve, and you will be glad to have her with us."
"I am, then, to kiss the hand that smites me?" Bertha rejoined, with bitterness. "It does not make me love the child any better to have her thus forced upon me. But you may rest easy, Hugo, I understand it all now, and you may be sure that I never shall give your sister an opportunity to use her power against us. She is quite aware of the extent of it, and would doubtless hail an occasion for exercising it. Be sure that I will so conduct myself that no court in Prussia would justify her in leaving your house and defrauding you of your inheritance."
Wangen was deeply grieved by his wife's words and her manner of speaking; for the first time he entertained suspicions as to the genuineness of her kindness of heart. All such he had hitherto banished, reproaching himself at her first kind word for even allowing their shadow to cross his mind. To-day he could not lay them to rest, he was so hurt by his wife's open expression of her dislike of his pet Clara.