"I suppose you do not come from our parts," said she, scrutinizing him openly; "for I have never seen you nor heard your name before. But there is one thing I can answer for. You have never seen on either side of the Rhine a sweeter girl than Alide Duroc. She is a perfect darling. Mamma often tells me I am wrong to praise her so much, for I shall never please where she is a favorite,—she is too stately and reserved. But, pshaw! what do I care? What is in me, that will come out, and I have my eyes well open. I know whom she has already pleased. Do you know what I will do? We are to have plenty of games this afternoon; I suppose you can play them, though you do look like His Highness's lord-in-waiting. Well, I will warrant you, when we play jack's-a-light, to win a forfeit from Alide, and you may ask for whatever you please. You don't look like a lad who would let his chances slip through his fingers."
Before Goethe could remonstrate, they had reached the crest of the little hill, and found themselves in Alide's "Rest." Her "surprise" was a luncheon spread in the middle of the grove; and the exclamations of delight and admiration which broke from the guests rewarded her for the pains she had bestowed on the tasteful decoration of her arbor. The meal was enjoyed with the buoyant merriment of youth, and here, as elsewhere, Goethe led the gayety. With song, jest, and anecdote he amused those within hearing, and exhilarated all by the contagious example of his own almost reckless spirits. Whatever he did, he did in earnest. It is this faculty of great men which makes their simplest action fresh and original; they are generous of their soul, they meet with abundant vitality the demands of every hour, and thus shed a peculiar glory upon whatever claims their regard. To have seen Goethe at such a moment as this, one would have supposed him ambitious of no higher enjoyment than that of a frolic or a festival; he was the veriest boy of the party in liveliness and fun. And yet it needed no keen observer to perceive that "nothing he did but smacked of something greater than himself," for the magnetism of his personality bore as emphatically the impress of his genius as anything durable that he has left behind.
During the day and evening he succeeded skillfully in evading the forfeit of a kiss from Alide, though his escape was rendered the more difficult by the roguish interference of Rosa Stockmar and her companions, who tried to force them together in order to be amused with their confusion. The greater part of the day was spent in the open air, and the soft sunshine, the transparent haze, the delicate purity of the remote pale sky imperceptibly did their share towards filling with joyful serenity these two youthful hearts just expanding into the perfect blossom of love. The knowledge that each heart beat only for the other sufficed to make the presence of all this merry company unreal as any dream. The swift eyebeams interchanged, the pressure of a hand in the game, the close embrace in the rapid waltz, made a mute, delicious communication that satisfied them both for the time.
After dinner, Goethe had been talking with the pastor about the old gentleman's favorite theme, the rebuilding of the parsonage, and had offered to prepare a ground-plan. Dr. Duroc, highly pleased, hurried off at once to confer with the schoolmaster, so that the yard and foot measure might be ready early on the morrow. At that moment Alide hastened to Goethe's side. "How kind, how good you are," she said, "to humor my dear father on his weak side!—not, like others, to get weary of this subject, to avoid him, or to break it off. I must indeed confess to you that the rest of us do not desire this building: it would be too expensive for the congregation, and for us also. A new house, new furniture! Our guests would not feel comfortable with us, now that they are accustomed to the old building. Here we can treat them liberally; there we should find ourselves straitened in a wider sphere. But do not you fail to be agreeable. I thank you for it from my heart."
On the following day the measurement of the house took place. It was a slow proceeding, for Goethe was as little of an adept in the art as the schoolmaster himself. At last he decided to return to Strasburg immediately, to prepare more conveniently and deliberately the plan which had occurred to him. The good father was delighted at the young man's interest in the scheme, and granted permission to leave at once. Alide herself dismissed him with joy; now that each felt certain of the other's love, the six leagues seemed no longer any distance, and a constant communication could be kept up through the diligence, messengers, and letters. He therefore once more bade farewell, with the promise of a speedy return, and, supported by a buoyant feeling of hope, set forth on his journey to town.
It was already dark when he reached his lodging, but the first thing he did was to seat himself at his desk and draw as neatly as possible the plan which he had conceived. When he had succeeded in sketching out a tolerably good idea of the whole, he laid it aside with a sigh of pleasure and satisfaction, and began a letter to Alide. It was late at night before he could tear himself away from this charming occupation. While he wrote, she seemed to be before him, brightening his dingy, lamp-lit room with her own open-air atmosphere. He could not weary of conjuring up in imagination the endowments of her beautiful nature and nourishing the hope of seeing her soon again. Early the next morning this letter was dispatched, with a little package of books, and his own messenger brought back to him her answer of thanks and affection. Thus for a few days the delicious nothings of love were transported between these bewitched ones, annihilating space and time, and uniting them in the closest communion of thoughts and feelings. There was no longer any need of an address from his worthy medical instructor. Those words spoken at the right time had so completely cured him of his morbid desires that he had no particular inclination to see the professor or the patients again. At the end of the week he received a letter from Alide inviting him to a festival, for which some friends from the other side of the Rhine were also coming, and begging him to make arrangements for a long stay. This he did by packing at once a stout portmanteau on the diligence, and in a few hours he was in her presence.
She was standing in the centre of a noisy group of young people, holding her arm upraised, while they tried to guess what she concealed in her closed hand. He had not been announced, but she felt his presence as he stood in the doorway. Her arm dropped by her side; "Wolfgang!" she murmured under her breath, as she sprang forward to welcome him. But her delight was saved from seeming conspicuous by the apparently equal pleasure manifested on the part of all her family. "Papa, mamma, here is our good friend Goethe!" cried Rahel, as she warmly pressed his hand, while the pastor and his wife greeted him with the familiarity of an old friend.
"Who can he be?" "One would say they were all in love with him!" "Where can he have come from?" were the whispered comments of the guests as they saw their sport interrupted by this intruder.
But soon the rich, resonant voice of Goethe was heard above them all. "Do not let me interfere, my dear, kind friends, with your pleasure. It is like coming home to find myself again in your happy circle; but, if Madame Mamma and the young ladies will excuse me, I will retire at once with you, Dr. Duroc, to show you the sketches I have brought, and with your permission I will return soon and enter into the game."
"What! already you have made these sketches? Impossible!" exclaimed the delighted pastor. "You are a capital fellow! Come with me at once, and we will look them over on the porch." And, resting his hand in a fatherly manner on the young man's shoulder, he went with him from the room.