Bruning continued his introductions: “The Countess Vera Petrovna Solnikova, of Petersburg, who has had the kindness to invite us to a feast of Lucullus; Madame Felsen, from Reval; Baron Gaston de la Rochère, from Bretagne; His Excellency, Marchese Rinotti, from Rome, the coming director of the destinies of Italy; and this is Herr Regenburg, the well-known Viennese sportsman. And now, tell us—does the Rose-Spectacle start off to-day?”
The Countess Vera motioned Helmer to sit down and offered him a cup of coffee, which he accepted.
“Yes,” said she; “tell us how it is all planned—the programme is so indefinite. Shall we hear you to-day?”
“No, not to-day. To-day a great man is going to speak,”—and he mentioned the name of the French author,—“and there are to be others. Yet I must not tell you. It is characteristic of Mr. Toker’s programme, that no programme is announced. If the public should know in advance on which day this or that person was to speak and know what would be the subject, then they would be able to pick and choose, and Mr. Toker wants all to be heard by all. It is like a salon, where the guests do not know what sort of artistic offerings are to be presented. It is all a surprise.”
“If I can only succeed in hearing one of that divine Polish master’s compositions, than I shall be rewarded for having made the journey to Lucerne,” said the countess, with a sentimental upward glance of her eyes. “And you, Annette, you are especially crazy over Mlle. Garlett, the famous feminist, aren’t you?”
“Yes, that I am, although I do not care about women’s rights, but I have heard so much about that lady....”
“Fräulein Garlett is no ‘Feminist,’” interrupted Helmer eagerly, “and she does not preach emancipation. She is not so desirous of winning rights for women as of doing away with ancient prerogatives, which they possess to the injury of all.”
“How so? what prerogatives?” asked the others.
“Of being idle; of having an empty brain; of disclaiming all care for the common weal; of thinking themselves absolved from the bother of logical thought ... and so of robbing humanity of half its intellectual working power.”
“I don’t understand you,” said Annette.