"But," said Gabriele, with all her natural refinement, "to be happy in these homes, they must be able to read a pleasant book or to sing a beautiful song, else their lives, spite of all their waterfalls, would be very dry!"
The Judge smiled, kissed his little daughter, and tears of delight filled his eyes.
Henrik, in the mean time, had gone into another room and seated himself at a window. His mother followed him.
"How do you feel, my Henrik?" said she affectionately, gently taking away the hand which shaded his eyes. His hand was concealing his tears. "My good, good youth!" exclaimed she, her eyes also overflowing with tears, and throwing her arms around him. "Now see!" began she consolingly, "you should not distress yourself when your father speaks in a somewhat one-sided manner. You know perfectly well how infinitely good and just he is, and that if he be only once convinced of the genuineness of your poetic talent, he will be quite contented. He is only now afraid of your stopping short in mediocrity. He would be pleased and delighted if you obtained honour in your own peculiar way."
"Ah!" said Henrik, "if I only knew whether or not I had a peculiar way—a peculiar vocation. But since Stjernhök has been here, and I have talked with him, everything, both externally and internally, seems altered. I don't any longer understand myself. Stjernhök has shown me how very little I know of that which I supposed myself to know a great deal, and what bungling my work is! I see it now perfectly, and it distresses me. How strong-minded and powerful Stjernhök is! I wish I were able to resemble him! But it is impossible, I feel myself such a mere nothing beside him! And yet, when I am alone, either with my books, or out in the free air with the trees, the rocks, the waters, the winds around me, and with heaven above, thoughts arise in me, feelings take possession of me, nameless sweet feelings, and then expressions and words speak in me which affect me deeply, and give me inexpressible delight; then all that is great and good in humanity is so present with me; then I have a foretaste of harmony in everything, of God in everything; and it seems to me as if words thronged themselves to my lips to sing forth the gloriousness of that which I perceive. In such moments I feel something great within me, and I fancy that my songs would find an echo in every heart. Yes, it is thus that I feel sometimes; but when I see Stjernhök all is vanished, and I feel so little, so poor, I am compelled to believe that I am a dreamer and a fool!"
"My good youth," said the mother, "you mistake yourself. Your gifts and Stjernhök's are so dissimilar: but if you employ your talents with sincerity and earnestness, they will in their turn bring forth fruit. I confess to you, Henrik, that it was, and still is, one of my most lively wishes that one of my children might become distinguished in the fields of literature. Literature has furnished to me my most beautiful enjoyments; and in my younger years I myself was not without my ambition in this way. I see in you my own powers more richly blossoming. I myself bloom forth in them, my Henrik, and in my hopes of you. Ah! might I live to the day in which I saw you honoured by your native land; in which I saw your father proud of his son, and I myself able to gladden my heart with the fruit of your genius, your work—oh, then I would gladly die!"
Enthusiastic fire flamed in Henrik's looks and on his cheeks, as whilst, embracing his mother, he said, "No, you shall live, mother, to be honoured on account of your son. He promises that you shall have joy in him!"
The sunbeam which just then streamed into the room fell upon Henrik's beautiful hair, which shone like gold. The mother saw it—saw silently a prophesying in it, and a sun-bright smile diffused itself over her countenance.
Petrea read the "Magic King." She ought properly to have read it aloud to the family circle in an evening, and then its dangerous magic would have been decreased; but she read it beforehand, privately to herself during the night, and it drew her into the bewildering magic circle. She thought of nothing, dreamed of nothing, but wonderful adventure; wonderfully beautiful ladies, and wonderfully brave heroes! She was herself always one of them, worshipped or worshipping; now combating, cross in hand, against witches and dragons; now wandering in dreamy moonlight among lilies in the Lady Minnetrost's Castle. It seemed as if the chaotic confusion of Petrea's brain had here taken shape and stature, and she now took possession with redoubled force of the phantasy world, which once before, under the guise of the Wood-god, had carried away her childish mind and conducted her into false tracks; and it was so even now; for while she moved night and day in a dream-world in which she luxuriated to exultation, in magnificent and wonderful scenes, in which she herself always played a part, she got on but lamentably in real and every-day life. The head in which so many splendid pictures and grand schemes were agitating, looked generally something like a bundle of flax; she never noticed the holes and specks in her dress, nor her ragged stockings and trodden-down shoes; she forgot all her little, every-day business, and whatever she had in her hand she either lost or dropped.