"The porch is entirely out of harmony with the rest of the building," sneered another: "one might as well vault a Gothic arch over an Ionic capital."
"It is not possible to throw the stairs so far back," suggested the wisest head of all. "It looks well on paper, but a very little practical experience would have told him that it could not be carried into effect."
Goethe stood by in calm superiority, with a feeling of intense amusement. It was as if he had no interest in the success of these sketches which he had wrought out so diligently and with such admirable skill. He was too happy in Alide's presence to entertain a moment's anger, and he heard their rude and ignorant remarks with the unconcerned critical pleasure with which he might have sat a spectator of one of Molière's comedies. But Alide was flushed with shame and indignation at the unmannerly behavior of her guests, no less than at their injustice to this gifted, courteous, incomparable young man. She could not have conceived that their opinions were not of the slightest account to him, for this was all her world, and she longed to go forward to Goethe and efface the painful impression with kind, encouraging words.
As for the pastor, he assumed an odd expression of wonder and bewilderment on hearing such unsparing censure of that which had to him appeared so excellent. But all other feelings were absorbed in rage when a pompous, officious, elderly man behind him, coolly taking a pencil from his pocket, drew with a bold, free hand such coarse lines and marks upon the clear white paper as irretrievably to destroy the symmetry of the original design.
"How dare you, sir?" cried the pastor, suffocated with anger and disappointment. "How have you the insolence——"
"Papa! papa!" interposed Rahel, trying to calm him.
"Do not be so vexed, dear sir," said Goethe, quietly stepping forward. "It is nothing, I assure you, that cannot be easily remedied. I am more than indebted to this experienced gentleman for his generous suggestions. In reality, sir, no harm is done. You know I told you these were but the sketches from which the perfect drawings were afterwards to be constructed; and I doubt not that I shall be able to devise something far better on a second trial."
"Yes, you are kind, you are generous," said the pastor; "but this is too outrageous. Perhaps in a little while I may be able to forget it." And, endeavoring to conceal his excited temper, he hastened from the room.
Alide now advanced to Goethe, and, taking him frankly by the hand, she thanked him aloud for his attention to her father and for his patience under so great an annoyance. Just then the discomfited author of all this mischief, who had erred only through ignorance, mustered sufficient courage to step up to them both, and earnestly begged Goethe's pardon for the vexation he had caused him. Goethe was only too glad to accept his excuses, and thus in a few moments perfect harmony was restored.
"Do you not recognize Raymond and Melusina?" whispered Alide, as the repentant mar-feast retired. "It is Herr Bernard, and that dainty little creature in the corner is his wife. We call her Melusina ever since you read to us in the summer-house."