CHAPTER XIII.
At the home of the Chief of all the foresters, the talked-of family fête for which Wallmoden and his young wife had expressly come, had taken place according to programme, and the lord of Burgsdorf and Antonie von Schonan were formally betrothed.
The young couple had long known that they were intended for each other, and were perfectly contented therewith.
Willibald, like a good son, was still of the opinion that the selection of his future wife was solely the business of his mother, and he had quietly waited until she found it convenient to betroth him. Still it was agreeable to him that it was just Cousin Toni he was to marry.
He had known her since their childhood; she suited him admirably, and what was of some importance, she made no demands for the romantic part of the engagement, which, with the best will in the world, he could not have complied with.
Toni exhibited the good taste which Frau Regine credited her with. Willy pleased her very much, and the prospect of becoming mistress of stately Burgsdorf pleased her still better. So all was in perfect accord.
The betrothed couple were at present in the reception room where the piano stood and Antonie was entertaining her betrothed with music at the request of her father. She herself considered music a very tiresome and superfluous affair; but the Chief Forester had insisted that his daughter should demonstrate not only her ability as a housekeeper, but that she had also been educated in the higher arts.
He was walking up and down the terrace with his sister-in-law, with the original intention of listening to the music, but instead of that they were quarreling again, although they had started out with a peaceful conversation about the happiness of the children. This time the quarrel seemed to be of a very violent nature.
"I really do not know what to think of you, Moritz," said Frau von Eschenhagen with a very red face. "You do not seem to have any sense of the impropriety of this acquaintance. When I ask you who this bosom friend of Toni's really is--the one who is expected at Waldhofen--you answer me in the calmest manner possible that she is a singer, and recently engaged at the Court Theatre. An actress! a theatre princess! one of those frivolous creatures----"
"But, Regine, do not get so excited," interrupted von Schonan vexedly. "You act as though the poor thing was already lost body and soul, because she has appeared on the stage."
"So she is," declared Regine; "whoever once enters this Sodom and Gomorrah is not to be saved--they go to their ruin there."
"Very flattering to our Court Theatre," said Schonan drily. "Besides, all of us go there."
"As audience--that is quite different. But I have always been against it. Willy has been allowed to attend the theatre but seldom, and then only in my company; but while I fulfil my maternal duty, conscientiously protecting my son from any touch with those circles, you give his future wife over freely to their poisonous influences. It is worthy of a cry to heaven!"
Her voice had grown very loud, partly through indignation and partly that she might be heard, for the musical performance in the room, whose glass doors stood wide open, was of a rather loud nature.
The young lady had a somewhat hard touch and her performance reminded one of the working of an ax in hard wood. Although her three listeners had strong nerves, a low conversation had become an impossibility.
"Let me explain this matter to you," said the Chief Forester pacifyingly. "I have already told you that this case is an exception. Marietta Volkmar is the granddaughter of our good old physician at Waldhofen. He had the misfortune to lose his son in the prime of life--the young widow followed her husband in the next year, and their child, the little orphan, came to her grandfather. That happened when I was promoted here to Furstenstein, ten years ago. Dr. Volkmar became my house physician; his granddaughter the playmate of my children, and because the school in Waldhofen was very poor, I offered to let the little one participate in the lessons of my children. The friendship dates from then.
"Later on, when Toni was sent to boarding school for two years, and Marietta went to the city for her musical education, this daily intercourse was, of course, broken, but Marietta visits us regularly when she comes to her grandfather during her vacations, and I do not see why I should prohibit it as long as the girl remains good and true."
Frau von Eschenhagen had listened to the explanation without abating her severity in the least, and now she laughed ironically.
"Good and true at the theatre! One knows how things go there, but you seem to take it just as easy as this Dr. Volkmar, who looks so venerable with his white hair, and yet consents to his granddaughter--a young soul entrusted to his care--going on the path to destruction."
Herr von Schonan made an impatient gesture.
"Regine, you are usually such a sensible woman, but you have never wished to be reasonable on this point. The theatre and everything connected with it has always been under a ban to you. The decision has not been an easy one for the doctor. I know that; and if one like me can sit in the warm nest and support one's children, one should not break the staff over other parents who struggle with bitter cares. Volkmar still works night and day with all his seventy years, but the practice brings him but little, for our vicinity is poor, and Marietta will be quite without means after his death."
"She ought to have become a governess or companion, then; that is a decent vocation."
"But a miserable vocation. One knows well how the poor things are treated and overworked. If a child of mine, whom I loved, had to decide her lot in life, and it was told me that she had a fortune in her throat and that a splendid future was assured her--well, I should let her go on the stage, depend upon that."
This confession knocked the bottom out of the barrel. Frau Regine stood for a moment quite still in affright; then she said solemnly: "Moritz, I shudder at you."
"I don't care. If it gives you any pleasure to shudder, keep at it; but if Marietta comes to Furstenstein as usual, I shall not repulse her, and I also have nothing against Toni's going to see her in Waldhofen."
Herr von Schonan had also to speak very loud, for his daughter was pounding the keys so that the windows rattled, and the strings of the piano were seriously endangered. The Chief Forester, while in the heat of the controversy, noticed this as little as did his sister-in-law, who now replied with much sharpness:
"Well, then, it is at least a good thing that Toni is to marry soon. Then the friendship with this theatre princess will come to an end, depend upon that. Such guests are not suffered at our respectable Burgsdorf, and Willy will not allow his wife the correspondence which seems now to be going on at a lively rate."
"That means that you will not allow it," shouted von Schonan, mockingly. "Willy has nothing to forbid or allow; he is only the obedient servant of his gracious Frau Mamma. It is unjustifiable how you keep that boy under your thumb when he is of age, betrothed, and soon to be a husband."
Frau von Eschenhagen, offended, straightened herself.
"I believe I am more conscientious with my responsibilities than you are. Do you wish to reproach me for raising my son with filial reverence and love?"
"Oh, well; there is a point where conscientiousness ceases and maltreating commences. You have already made Willy quite silly with your eternal supervision. He did not dare to even propose on his own account; when the matter began to get too long for you, you interfered as usual. 'Why these preliminaries, children? You shall have each other--you wish it, your parents consent, you have my blessing--therefore kiss each other and bring the thing to an end.' That is your standpoint. I, too, had filial reverence and affection, but if my parents had come into my wooing like that they would have heard something very different. But Willy accepted it calmly. I truly believe he was glad that he did not have to make a formal proposal."
The excitement of the twain had again risen to the boiling point, and it was now well that the noise inside had so increased that they could not hear each other further.
Fraulein Antonie had strength at least in her hands, and as she seemed to consider that the most important thing, her performance sounded as if a regiment of soldiers were storming an attack.
It was too much for her father. He suddenly broke off the conversation and entered the room.
"But, Toni, you do not need to break the new piano," he said with vexation. "What piece are you playing?"
Toni sat at the piano, laboring in the sweat of her brow; not far removed sat her betrothed upon a sofa, his head supported by his arm and eyes shaded by his hand, apparently quite entranced with the music.
The young lady turned at her father's question and said in her usual slow voice, "I was playing the March of the Janissaries, papa. I thought it would please Willy, since he, too, has been a soldier."
"So? But he served as a dragoon," muttered Schonan, approaching his future son-in-law, who did not seem to appreciate the delicate attention, for he gave no sign of approval.
"Willy, what do you say to it? Willy, do you not hear? I actually believe he has fallen asleep."
Alas! the supposition proved correct. While the March of the Janissaries thundered over the keys, Willy had softly and sweetly fallen asleep, slumbering so soundly that he did not even now awake. This seemed too much for his mother, who had also approached. She grasped his arm sharply.
"But, Willy, whatever does this mean? Are you not ashamed of yourself?"
The young lord, shaken and scolded on all sides, finally aroused himself and sleepily gazed around. "What--what shall I---- Yes, it was beautiful, dear Toni."
"I believe it," cried the Chief with an angry laugh. "Do not trouble yourself to play any more, my child. Come, we will let your groom-elect have his nap out in peace. He has good nerves; one must confess that."
Saying which he took his daughter's arm and left the room, where the fullest maternal wrath now broke over poor Willibald. Frau von Eschenhagen, already provoked by the preceding conversation, did not spare her son, but justified only too well the reproaches of her brother-in-law. She scolded the engaged and soon-to-be-a-husband young man like a schoolboy.
"This surpasses everything conceivable," she concluded in highest indignation. "Your father was not very much at courting, but if he, after two days' betrothal, had fallen asleep while I was entertaining him with my music, I should have aroused him very unceremoniously. Now, do you go immediately to your fiancée and beg her pardon. She is quite right to feel offended."
With which she grasped him by the shoulder and pushed him very emphatically toward the door.
Willy accepted it all very humbly and remorsefully, for he was indeed shocked at his untimely slumber; but he could not help it--he had been so sleepy and the music was so wearying.
Quite crushed, he entered the next room, where Toni stood, rather offended, at the window.
"Dear Toni, do not think hard of me," he began hesitatingly; "it was so hot and your playing had something so pacifying."
Toni turned. That this march, with her playing of it, should be pacifying was new to her; but when she saw the crushed mien of her betrothed, who stood like a prisoner before her, her good nature conquered, and she held out her hand.
"No, I am not angry with you, Willy," she said cordially. "I do not care either for the stupid music. We will do something more sensible when we are at Burgsdorf."
"Yes, that we will," exclaimed Willy, joyfully pressing the offered hand. He had not yet aspired to even a kiss upon the hand. "You are so good, Toni."
When Frau von Eschenhagen entered soon afterward, she found the couple in perfect harmony, engaged in a highly interesting conversation about dairy affairs, which were somewhat different in the two localities of Burgsdorf and Furstenstein. This was a subject over which Willy did not fall asleep, and his mother congratulated herself secretly upon this splendid daughter-in-law, who showed no inconvenient sensitiveness.
The young man found opportunity almost directly to prove himself grateful for the indulgence of his betrothed. Toni complained that a package which she had ordered and which was needed for the supper table had not yet come. It had arrived safely at the post office, but, it seemed, with a wrong address, and had not been delivered to the messenger, who in the meantime had been dispatched elsewhere. No other servant was at liberty to go, and the time of need for it was drawing near. Willibald hastened to offer his services, which were joyfully accepted by his fiancée.