It was late in the afternoon when Helmer was announced. He had been away, and consequently had not received the telegram in time. Franka was beginning to grow impatient. She sat in her little salon; Frau Eleonore was reading to her from the evening paper, but Franka did not listen. If only Chlodwig would come soon.
When the footman announced her caller, her heart fluttered as if she were expecting a lover. But she was not in love. Helmer seemed to her only as the director of her future career; he was not only going to point out the way, but also to make it smooth for her, support her first steps. And then that kinship in ideas! Among all the strangers, among these indifferent people in whose midst she had lived since her father’s death, this was one person allied to her, a fellow-countryman from the home region of her soul—actually a brother; and therefore her heart was drawn toward him.
“Ask him to come in,” said she to the footman; and then, turning to her companion, she said: “Remain here, but please do not interrupt with a word or a question while we are talking; later you will know all about it.”
Chlodwig entered. He also was inwardly much agitated. He had not expected that Franka would so speedily accept his proposition. He was, therefore, filled with pride and delight at the thought of it; and beneath it all there was also a vague sense of being in love, yet without passion and without expectation. When he first saw her, his imagination had been somewhat kindled by her beauty, but never had he gone to the extent of thinking that it was within the bounds of possibility for him to win her; still less since she had become a millionairess. And now that she desired to devote herself to the vestal consecration of a great service, she seemed to him absolutely removed from the domain of love and marriage.
He drew nearer: “You sent for me, gnädiges Fräulein.”
The presence of the stranger disturbed him. Franka noticed it. She asked him to sit down.
“We can talk without constraint. My friend must be initiated into all my plans—she will accompany me on my tournées. And now, how am I to begin?”
Helmer paused to consider. “The first step,” he said after a little while, “is the engagement of an elocution teacher. The technical side must be conquered. After that one may get the mastery of the ideal side. Frau von Rockhaus will get the notion,” said he, in a different tone of voice, “that you are intending to go on the stage if she hears us talking of tournées and elocution masters. And yet how far, how high above that, stands our plan! What you propose to accomplish is related to the art of acting—however noble that may be—as the Zeppelin stands above a wheelbarrow.”
“Your thoughts move much in the upper regions of the air, Mr. Helmer.”
“Yes, Miss Franka, the conquest of this element gave me the impulse to my poetry and my aspirations, and this thought must also serve as the foundation of your work.”