"I was so helpless," she said; "I felt lost in the wide, wide world. You cannot imagine, dear Johanna, the trials and hostilities to which an unprotected woman is exposed, particularly when, like myself, she is young, beautiful, and talented.
"You can have no idea of the intrigues and cabals with which I was surrounded. The more gracious,—yes, I might as well confess,—the more enthusiastic my reception was by the public, the more virulent my rivals became. They took refuge behind the critics, and slandered me to the public and to the management. Four times I obtained an engagement, and each time they contrived to have it fail. If we had time, I could tell you stories that would make your hair stand on end——"
Thus she went on for a long while, and then began upon Carlo Batti. "He is a wonderful man, and as kind as he is clever. And how he loves me! It is a perpetual surprise to me, although I ought to be used to adoration. Nothing seems to him good enough for me; he loads me with gifts. And how devoted he is to Lisbeth! That was what first decided me to marry him. It was my duty to insure to the child a home and a father's protection. Was I not right?"
To avoid a reply, Johanna bent over the little girl who stood beside her, and her heart ached as she looked into the pale little face.
"Do you think her changed?" asked Helena.
"Very much; she has grown pale and thin. How could you allow such a frail little creature to appear in public?"
"It did her no harm," Helena declared. "It was a simple little juvenile ballet, the prettiest thing you can imagine. Ten boys and ten girls in pink and silver——"
"But I was the prettiest of all," Lisbeth interposed, and her eyes sparkled; "and I danced the best, too. Everybody clapped their hands, and Uncle Carlo said that if I would take pains I could be a great artist, and then I should always have the loveliest clothes, and the others, who were not so pretty as I, would be half dead with vexation."
Helena laughed. "You see how he turns the child's head," she said; but it was evident that she was pleased. Johanna reflected with positive horror that if the child were left with these people, her inborn vanity would destroy the germs of good in her heart. She must save the little one from such a fate. Otto would let her have the child at Tannhagen.
Batti returned in an ill humour, because nothing had come of the purchase of horses, and the bad beer and black bread of the Remmingen inn were not calculated to soothe his irritation. Helena ought to have remembered to bring with them a couple of bottles of wine and some cold meat; but unless he himself attended to everything, great and small, nothing was ever done. Helena, who could not possibly submit to reproof, replied crossly that she had not expected to breakfast at a village inn, whereupon Batti angrily observed that another time she would please to rely upon his knowledge of the world and of human nature. He had from the first been averse to the d—d drive, and it was the last time he should accede to Helena's silly schemes.