CHAPTER XI.
In the mean while Jansen and his two companions had gone on their way, too much occupied with their own thoughts to think about the company in which Schnetz had driven by. They were not, indeed, taking an ordinary morning walk, for it had no less an object in view than to make a child acquainted with its new mother for the first time--yes, even more than this. The evening before Julie had expressed her ardent wish to take the child under her own care at once; the plan to take an apartment with Angelica had been given up again, for this good soul could not bring herself to leave the people with whom she was staying, who lived in great part from what she paid them. So Julie had plenty of room; and, though she said nothing about it, no doubt the consideration that the presence of the child would do much to lighten the trial year, both for herself and her lover, had a great deal to do in determining her. Since everything that made the bond between them stronger could not but be very welcome to Jansen, it was decided to put the plan into execution on the very next day.
But though Jansen had welcomed and urged the idea most eagerly, he became more and more doubtful, as the hour for putting it into execution drew near, whether he should succeed without some trouble in removing the child from the associations to which it was accustomed, and placing it amid entirely new relations. Julie felt no less nervous; what had seemed to her the evening before to be easy and self-evident, appeared to her now in broad daylight as an audacious undertaking that made her heart beat more anxiously the nearer they approached to their goal. What if the child should not take to her? What if she, try as hard as she would, should not be able to take it to her heart at once?--or should not be able to learn the art of managing it rightly?
The thought made her silent, and she involuntarily walked more slowly. Jansen, too, slackened his pace, so that the good Angelica, who walked along with them quite cheerful and free from care, was obliged to stand still every few minutes in order to wait for the stragglers.
But she did not lose her good-nature. On the contrary, it seemed as though the happiness of her adored friend, the share in it which fell to her as the patron saint of the secret union, and, by no means least, the authority which her position as protectress gave her over her honored master, tended to excite her humor in an unusual degree, so that she delivered the drollest speeches entirely on her own account, whenever the other two abused too flagrantly the privilege of being tiresome--a privilege that belongs by right to all lovers.
"Children," she cried, standing still again and fanning her heated face with her handkerchief, "this is the first time in my life that I ever 'played the elephant' to a pair of secret lovers, but I swear by the ball on the tower of that Protestant church never to do so again, unless I am provided with an equipage at the very least! That you are not very entertaining I find to be quite in order, and at all events much better than if you should perpetually speak in sonnets, like Romeo and Juliet--which I find highly absurd even on the stage. But to creep along at your side through this Sahara-like glare, while you walk at a snail's-pace, since you no longer feel external heat because of the flames within, is more than an elderly girl of my complexion can stand. So we will jump into the next droschke, where I can close my eyes and ponder why it is that love, which is after all such a pleasurable invention, generally makes the most sensible people melancholy."
Jansen's home lay in one of the old lanes between the city and the Au suburb. Any one wandering along here by the side of the babbling brook, a small tributary of the Isar, and seeing the low cottages with their little front gardens and courtyards, and picturesque gables, might easily imagine himself transported far away from the city and set down in one of the country towns of the middle ages, so quiet and deserted are the streets and ways, and so freely does every one pursue his occupation under the eye of his neighbor, washing his linen and his salad at the same well and sitting in his shirt-sleeves before his door. The house of our friend stood a little back, in a sort of blind-alley, so that you could not drive up to the door. It belonged to an honest and hard-working man who had formerly been a teacher in one of the provincial industrial schools, and who was now employed as an engineer by different railways. As his work obliged him to travel during many months of the year, he had invited his wife's mother to come and live with him and give company and assistance to his little wife--a cheery, practical woman from the Palatinate, sound to the core both in body and soul. The mother was an excellent old woman, who, although rather deaf, knew so well how to get on with the children that the little ones desired no better company than their grandmamma, who read all their little wishes in their eyes.
She was sitting in her accustomed place in the deep window-niche, with her youngest grandchild, who was barely two years old, on her knee, and her five-year-old foster-child on a stool at her feet, when the door opened and her daughter, the sculptor, and the two ladies, walked in. Jansen was an especial favorite of hers, and his child held as warm a place in her heart as her own grandchildren. And so it was natural, when, without any preparation or notice, these two strange Fräuleins, of whom one was striking beautiful, were introduced to her as relations of the sculptor who wanted to see little Frances, that she had a feeling there was something wrong about the matter; especially as one of the strange ladies, the beautiful one, immediately took up the little girl, who made great eyes at her, kissed and caressed her, and took out all sorts of sweetmeats and toys from her pocket, with which she tried to gain the child's friendship. Jansen sat near her, silent, his face wearing a peculiar expression. For the first time his child struck him as not looking so pretty or to so much advantage as he could have wished. It had, to be sure, feature for feature the face of its father, and fortunately his clear, flashing eyes as well; and in addition to this a head of dark-brown hair and black eyebrows, which made the eyes appear still more brilliant. Moreover, it evidently took a strong fancy to the beautiful "aunt," who brought it such nice things, and it behaved altogether with great propriety considering its few years. But, for all that, a certain uneasiness weighed upon all the people in the little room, as they sat together on the sofa or round the table. Neither Jansen nor Julie had considered how they should properly clothe their project in words, since their relation to one another heretofore had borne none of the usual names, and it might not be so easy to explain to these simple-minded women what was meant by the engagement of a married man, and the maternal rights of his "bride" to his child.
It is very possible they had both counted on the aid of their good "elephant," who, as a general thing, was never at a loss for a word on either serious or pleasant occasions. But Angelica also seemed to have left her humor outside, when she entered this peaceful little chamber. She only had sufficient tact to admire the other children, and to devote herself especially to the little two-year nestling, whom she pronounced to be "a charming little rascal, with true Rubens coloring."
Thus a good half hour passed away; every subject was exhausted which could possibly be broached on a first visit, and still the main topic had not been touched upon. Then at last the little housewife, who had now and then exchanged a meaning look with the old woman in the window corner, came to the aid of her old friend and lodger by rising and requesting him to step into the adjoining room with her for a moment, as she had something to say to him that would be of no interest to the ladies.
So she led him into her absent husband's study, shut and locked the door behind her, and, the moment she was alone with him, plunged into the heart of the matter.
"Dear friend," she said, in her rapid Palatinate dialect, dropping all the n's at the ends of her words, and introducing a number of those pretty turns of speech that flow so charmingly from the lips of pretty Palatinate women, "now just tell me straightforwardly what all this means. Do you seriously suppose you can pull the wool over my eyes, or that I sha'n't see that this charming woman is your sweetheart or something of that sort, and not a mere cousin in the seventeenth degree? Now, I most certainly have nothing against it if you admire a beautiful Fräulein; that is your privilege as an artist, and besides you are no old beau with silver locks; and this woman could almost steal my own heart away if I were a man. But there is something behind it all in this case, and you need not try to convince me of the contrary; and this fondling and fussing over the child has some reason. Didn't she ask whether little Frances would like to come with her and see all the pretty things she had in her house? Now, I know well enough, dear Jansen, that if it were any ordinary attachment she would have no wish to entice to her a child who would perpetually remind her admirer of his earlier relations."
"You have guessed the secret, my good woman," answered Jansen, as he pressed her hand with a feeling of relief. "You are as wise as the day is long, and would steal the most secret plans from the bosom of a much more skillful diplomatist than I am. And who has a better right than you, dear friend, to know all that concerns our dear child, whom you have always cared for with the faithfulness of a mother? But now listen to me quietly. It is truly a strange story, and the right way through the maze is not so clear. But, if you only knew that wonderful being as well as I do--"
And then he began to tell the history of the last few weeks to the woman, who listened with great attention to all he said; and closed by saying that he did not like under these circumstances to dissuade Julie from taking the child to live with her, especially when, in beginning to care for that which was dearer to him than all else except herself, she would be giving him a new proof of how earnestly she desired his happiness.
He had grown so earnest over his story that, when he came to an end, nothing seemed more natural and right to him than this opinion. He was, therefore, very much amazed when the little woman said to him, with a doubtful expression, and speaking, against her wont, very slowly and solemnly:
"You mustn't be offended with me, dear friend, but if you did this you would make the most foolish mistake it would be possible for you to make in your position and at your age. There! Now you know it, and though it may not sound very polite, it is my opinion nevertheless, and most certainly my mother's also; and, if you have not the heart to tell it, I myself will say it to the beautiful Fräulein's face, with all the love and esteem of which she may be in every respect worthy. What? I am to give up the child to a single woman with whom its father is in love? To a beautiful lady who never has learned how such a little plant as this should be watered, or trained when it shows signs of growing crooked, or how much air and sunshine it needs?"
"Of course we should get an experienced nurse," he ventured meekly to suggest.
The excitable little woman, who had become quite red in the face in her zeal, gave him a side glance full of pity and reproach.
"So," she said, "a nurse! So you think, I suppose, that this ought to make me quite contented? No; and though you are the own father of the child ten times over and I only the foster-mother, still for all that I will take the liberty of telling you that you don't know anything about it, and only talk as you do because you are blindly in love. Oh, my good friend, do you think then that, because I have no right to say: 'I will not allow it--I will not give up the child that I have long loved as dearly as my own,' therefore I would not fight hand and foot if anything should befall her that would be as dangerous to her as if you should give her brandy to drink? Yes, you may stare at me as much as you like, it is as I say! A child belongs only amid pure relations--don't be angry at the expression. What will you say to little Frances when she asks whether the beautiful lady with whom she lives is her papa's wife, because he always kisses and caresses her when he comes and goes, just as her foster-mother's husband used to do with his wife, only perhaps even more tenderly? Do you imagine the dear little thing hasn't eyes in her head, and very wise thoughts behind them? And no matter with what propriety you may act, there is something not quite right about the whole matter. Your Fräulein sweetheart has her head full of other things than what the child needs, and won't sit and talk and play and learn with her all day long, like grandmamma and our other children. Think the matter over again, and then put the plan out of your mind. Don't you remember you have often said to me that you would be glad if you only knew some way in which to repay me for my love and care for your child, and I always laughed at you for talking such nonsense? But to-day I do not laugh at all--to-day I tell you very seriously, if you really think you owe me anything, then pay me by saying that you will not take the child away from me, but will leave her here where she is happy."
She extended both her hands to him, which he seized and pressed heartily, though still with averted face.
"My best friend," he said, "you mean so well by our child--"
"And by her father, too!" she eagerly continued; "and even by her father's beautiful friend, with whom I have no need to eat salt in order to believe all the good you have said of her. But, for that very reason and because we are on this subject, do make a hearty resolve, dear Jansen, and procure the divorce now at any price and as soon as possible. You see, I am but a simple woman and have not seen much of the world, but still I have seen enough to know that even with the best intentions everything can't go exactly according to rule; and if you artists sometimes overstep the bounds rather more than is necessary, still you are not one of the kind who would do such a thing merely out of wantonness. And I know, too, why you haven't wanted things to be any different heretofore. But now--believe me, now you owe it to three beings to provide a pure atmosphere in which you can begin a new life. And, though you shake your head even now, as much as to say it is impossible, believe me--"
The door was suddenly thrown open, and little Frances came jumping in, holding a candied fruit in her hand, of which she had taken a bite, and which she insisted upon the little foster-mother's tasting too. Jansen took the dear little creature in his arms, pressed her passionately to his breast, and kissed her bright eyes. Then he gave her back to the little wife and said, in a voice choked with emotion:
"There, you have her again! God reward you for your kindness and good sense. We will finish our talk some other time."
He stepped into the room again where his two friends had been waiting, their conversation confined to a rather tiresome attempt to make themselves understood by the deaf old woman. Julie read in Jansen's eyes that his interview had not met with the desired success; but, hard as it was for her to relinquish her plan and not to take the child with her at once, she refrained from all hasty objections, and rested content with the promise that little Frances should soon visit her.
It was only after they were in the carriage that Jansen informed her of the objections raised by the little woman. Julie listened in silence, with downcast eyes and burning cheeks. Angelica, on the contrary, attempted, in her droll way, to protest against this project, to which she, as the protecting genius of the two foolish lovers, had given her consent, being considered so very wild and impracticable. By imperceptible degrees, however, she passed from scolding the capricious little woman to praising her, maintaining that she, as a portrait-painter, was a sufficiently good judge of human nature to know at once what sort of a character lay behind any face. And, consequently, she could not help admitting that, if the dear child was not to be with Julie, there was no place in the world where it would be better cared for than in this house.
Julie persisted in her silence. Her heart had grown heavy; she began, for the first time, to have a presentiment that her great happiness was not to be all sunshine, that storms were lowering on the horizon which the first gust of wind might roll across the sky, and cause to break upon the heads of herself and her lover.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 1]: Rosebush.
[Footnote 2]: Schöpfer--creator--a pun somewhat less irreverent to German than it would sound to English ears.
[Footnote 3]: The Germans say "to get the basket," as we say "to get the mitten."--Translator.
[Footnote 4]: Of course a play on Schafskopf (sheep's-head), the German phrase for a stupid fool.--Translator.