The good lady could not decide as to the sentiments entertained by the tutor for her guest, indeed the young man was more of a puzzle to her than ever. Immediately after his arrival at the castle he had become quite a different creature, had been transformed from an awkward, uncouth Candidate into a courteous, well-bred gentleman, a restlessness of manner peculiar to him had entirely vanished, and now since Bertha's arrival he had undergone another metamorphosis.
His eyes again showed the same restless gleam that animated them when he was agitated, the scornful smile, so long absent from his lips, again often hovered there, accompanying some sneering remark, and there was a want of repose about him which made itself especially apparent when he improvised upon the piano. Frau von Osternau often seemed to hear the cry of a wounded heart in the strange, wild melodies that echoed beneath his fingers, and anon she would be carried away by the din and strife of a chaos of tones which harassed and troubled her, and from which there was no escape save by a crashing dissonance. His playing was always admirable, but it no longer brought refreshment to the mind, it was bewildering, confusing. Lieschen was profoundly aware of this; her eyes did not fill with tears as she listened, but her cheek paled and her downcast glance would avoid that of the player when he had finished. When he noticed this he would turn away with a shiver, and pass his hand across his eyes as if to brush away some cloud, then, seating himself again at the instrument, he would evoke from it such touching sounds as quickly reconciled Frau von Osternau to the artist.
His conduct towards Bertha grew to be as contradictory as his music. When he gazed at her his eyes would glow darkly, but when they were turned upon Lieschen their fire faded, a happy expression took its place, too often to be banished again by the mere sound of Bertha's voice. He seldom appealed directly to her in conversation; he even avoided all tête-à-têtes with her, but what he said to others was constantly addressed indirectly to her. And this was frequently the case, as Lieschen told her mother, during their rides. The Herr Candidate addressed Fritzchen or herself, but what he said was meant for Bertha.
In short, Pigglewitch had become entirely changed since Bertha's arrival; he was the same only in one respect,--his duties were most scrupulously fulfilled. Over Fritzchen he exercised the same affectionate superintendence, beneath which his little pupil made extraordinary progress, and he acted with the same conscientiousness in his instruction of Lieschen. During the music-lessons he had neither eyes nor words for the lovely Fräulein von Massenburg, he seemed to live only for his pupil, and Lieschen showed her gratitude by giving him her undivided attention.
These lesson-hours had come to be the happiest time of the day for the young girl, who had so lately been little more than a careless, happy child. Since Bertha's coming to the castle there had been a change in the daughter of the house, which filled her mother with anxiety. The girl no longer ran races with Fritzchen when lessons were over, her merry laughter no longer came floating up every day from the lawn, the charming romp, who had deserved and received many a loving reproof from her father, had vanished, and in her stead there was a serious, gentle, sensible maiden, almost too serious, her mother thought, remembering her former playfulness. It did not please Frau von Osternau that Lieschen had suddenly lost all pleasure in her childish games, that she would sit for a long while at times over her embroidery, not always working, sometimes in a profound revery, with hands clasped in her lap. Of what could she be thinking? Her mother would have given much to know; such knowledge might have relieved her of a great dread,--a dread never quite laid to rest in her mind,--lest Lieschen should cherish a warmer affection for her music-teacher than her parents could approve,--an affection now shown, perhaps, by an awakening jealousy of Bertha von Massenburg.
This really seemed the only explanation of the change wrought in the young girl. This might be the reason why Lieschen withstood the charm which Bertha exercised upon all the other members of the household. She alone treated Bertha with a scrupulously courteous reserve, which was not to be overcome by any effort on the part of the guest to win her affection.
"What is your objection to Bertha Massenburg?" Frau von Osternau asked her daughter one morning when they were alone together, Bertha having accompanied her uncle in his walk in the fields. "You treat her with a coldness and reserve that she really does not deserve at your hands. She will surely be offended by your manner some day."
"I think I show her all the courtesy that is her due," Lieschen replied, gravely, looking up from her work. "She has never heard an unkind word from me."
"That is not what I mean. It only seems to me that you might be more cordial and frank to so amiable a girl."
"I cannot feign what I do not feel."