Rahel kissed her sister impetuously, and cried, "Dear little Baby, you have grown older and wiser than I." And then, with a free heart once more, she confided to Alide her hopes and plans for her own wedding, which was to take place early in the following autumn.
She was quite like the Rahel of Sesenheim again, cheerful, merry, and talkative, when she appeared among the Burkhardt family. But Alide was thoughtful and abstracted: her sister's confession as to the real object of their visit awoke her somewhat roughly to a sense of the actual demands of her position. She could not but acknowledge to herself that she was no nearer a definite agreement with Goethe, concerning their mutual prospects, than the day she had first seen him; and in the eyes of the world they were betrothed. But nothing was to be gained by remaining in Strasburg; she felt a sincere compassion for her sister's vexations and homesickness, and was glad for her sake to leave. She did not dare to ask whether she herself were happy here; she would not have confessed in her inmost thoughts that the presence of Goethe was not all-sufficing for her; but she was conscious of an unrest and oppression ever since she had been in the city, which she attributed to the novelty and uncongeniality of town-life.
She was more impatient than usual for the hour of Goethe's accustomed visit. Punctually at one o'clock he was in the habit of presenting himself daily at the Burkhardts' house, and they generally passed the remainder of the day together. Perhaps when she told him so unexpectedly that she must leave Strasburg, he would come to some decision.
The morning passed slowly and quietly. At noon some visitors were announced, and the Duroc girls were called to receive them with their cousins. Alide's picturesque white skirt and, bodice displayed to perfection the grace and symmetry of her form; a silver comb fastened above her stately little head the loose twists of her auburn braids. Her face was transparently pale, and her eyes had the languid, drooping expression produced by a night of insufficient sleep. The strangers were charmed with her, and when the clock struck one they showed no intention of taking their leave. Her answers became more and more brief and abstracted; her eyes wandered continually to the door, which did not open; she grew restless and alarmed.
"Will you not, my dear?" were the words, uttered in a coaxing tone, that startled her from her reverie, and she found that she was expected to sing.
"One of the genuine Volkslieder, cousin," said Anna.
It was such a relief to Alide to know what they were talking about, that she rose willingly to go to the harpsichord. Who does not know the rapidly-succeeding emotions of vexation, uneasiness, anxiety, and fear in waiting beyond the appointed time for one who is dear to us? She had sufficient control over her voice to intone some of her Alsatian ballads; the words came mechanically to her lips, but all the time she was repeating to herself, "Why has he not let me know? If anything should happen to him! My darling, how harassed he looked last evening!" Before she had finished, the clock struck two; her heart beat high and loud in her breast. They pressed her for more, but she answered, in her simple, child-like way, "Please forgive me; I cannot sing any more just now."
"We are afraid it affects her chest, sometimes," said her mother; "she is so easily tired."
At last, to Alide's indescribable relief, the visit was brought to an end. It was nearly three o'clock: the one thought uppermost in her mind, that Wolfgang was ill, gained strength until it became a terrible certainty. All day her suspense was prolonged, and she was obliged to take part in the accustomed occupations and conversations of the household, and, moreover, to keep constantly on her guard, lest her agitation should be remarked. How could she wait until to-morrow? how could she lie motionless by her sister's side through the interminable hours of the night, and endure this intolerable distress and uncertainty?
Early in the evening a note was handed to her: she hurried to her room, dreading lest she should lose control over herself by a confirmation of her fears or a too sudden reaction of joy. With trembling fingers she broke the seal, and read: