Franka pinned on her hat; it was black, for she still wore mourning, but it was pretty and very becoming. Under the direction of Dr. Fixstern’s wife, she had provided herself with new and elegant clothing, and she was not insensible to the comfortable feeling of being neatly and correctly dressed, although nothing was farther from her nature than vanity and a love of finery.
The train came to a stop, and Franka’s heart began to beat: so now, now was the beginning of a new life.... Would there be any one from the castle to meet her and greet her?... The platform was full of people, but merely passengers of the third class, waiting for the next train—peasants, market-women with baskets or bundles. There was also a servant in livery. He approached the coach from which Franka and her escort were dismounting. On the street in front of the station an automobile was waiting—a great open limousine, the white lacquer of which glittered in the sun. The chauffeur was standing beside it and helped Franka to enter. It was the first time in her life that she had ever been in such a vehicle. Indeed, a new life in every respect!
Along a road between red-blooming clover-fields, through a fir forest, the branches of which were loaded with bright green cones, and then up a long avenue of ancient chestnut trees, the chauffeur took them toward the castle with its towers and pinnacles, its bow-windows and verandas, which now began to be visible against the horizon in the distance. The weather was warm, but the air, fragrant with spring, fanned Franka’s face with refreshing coolness as the machine swiftly sped along. Franka took deep breaths; her cheeks were aglow with color and a smile of joy played around her young mouth. She had only just been shedding tears, and now a keen feeling of delight swept through her whole being. The future must bring her something beautiful ... she would not have to be always so alone...! The wide world is, indeed, a savings bank in which rich funds of love are deposited, and youth, in itself, is a kind of checkbook.
Along park drives bordered with shrubbery, past flower-beds and pools, from which rose glittering fountains, flew the machine, and came to a stop under the porte-cochère of the castle. Several servants stood waiting and took her hand-luggage. On the steps above, Franka was received by the count’s sister.
“Welcome, dear child.... How are you, Dr. Fixstern ... so you have brought the child with you safely, have you? Come, Franka, we will go directly to my brother—he is waiting for you in great anticipation.”
The lady spoke in a friendly tone, and her face wore a friendly expression; but the doctor, who knew her well, could not help perceiving that both in her voice and in the expression of her face there was a tone and a look of insincerity.
Through a long corridor adorned with potted plants and hung with paintings, Franka was conducted into another wing and ushered into the count’s apartment. It was a room paneled with dark leather and filled with ancient furniture. In a tall armchair near the window sat the count, a pillow behind his head and a covering over his knees. Pale and ill as he looked, he was a handsome old man. Noble, regular features, his white beard trimmed close and to a point, large blue eyes beaming with friendliness, his hair silver-white, but still brushed up in a thick mass above his forehead.
“Here, Eduard, I bring you your granddaughter.... Come, Dr. Fixstern, let us go into the adjoining room; we will leave the two alone for a little.”
A young man, who was sitting in one corner of the room at a table covered with writings, stood up and was about to leave the room.
“Remain, if you please, Mr. Helmer, and continue your writing; you will not disturb me. And you, my girl, come nearer, quite close, so that I may look at you.... My eyes are growing dim....” He held out to her a slim white hand.