Life in a German Crack Regiment

by Graf von Wolf Ernst Hugo Emil Baudissin

But the terrible anxiety which always reigned in her home kept her at her aunt's. "I would rather endure these secret remarks than see the poverty and misery at home, and bear their reproaches." At intervals she confessed to herself that she stayed on George's account; not that she could say she was exactly in love with him. The question of marriage had been so much and so often talked about, that love seemed a ridiculous thing, and it all depended on whether the man had money or not. The holiest of feelings had been so unreservedly discussed in her presence that she believed that her heart was no longer accessible to love. In George she saw a reliable friend. He was always very attentive to her; as soon as he saw her by herself he came to her side, and she felt his glance continually on her. His glance seemed to say: "I do not know, of course, what anxiety is troubling you, but I know that you are feeling sad and lonely here, just as I am, and I want, therefore, to do what I can for you."

This evening she was to meet him again. There was a great reception at the American ambassador's, and she was delighted at the prospect of seeing him. She had dressed herself specially well for his benefit, and had put on a new costume which her aunt had just given her. In pleasant anticipation of the entertainment she had begun to dress sooner than usual, and now a quarter of an hour before it was time to go she was standing in front of the looking-glass and regarding herself smilingly. She was pleased with her own beauty, and knew that to-day, at any rate, she would once again arouse admiration.

She was standing deep in thought when a knock at the door aroused her. "Is it time yet? I am quite ready. I'll come at once."

"Madam has plenty of time. The carriage is not yet at the door, but there is an express message for you."

Hildegarde was alarmed. An express letter for her! Whatever could have happened?

She opened the door and took the letter from the girl, and she shuddered involuntarily when she recognised her brother's handwriting.

"Oh, dear!" She threw the letter on the table with annoyance. Without opening she knew perfectly well that it contained a request for money. A feeling of repugnance came over her. "Why should he spoil my pleasure just at this moment? How can I possibly ask my aunt for anything when she has just given me this costly dress?" All her pleasure had vanished. "Well," she said to herself at last, "the letter shall not spoil my temper to-day. I shall read it to-morrow, or this evening, when I get back again."

An inward feeling of anxiety, however, caused her to tear open the envelope, and she read:

"Dear little Hildegarde,—You know the old story how the watchman summoned a woman out of bed and called out to her: 'Mrs. Meyer, you are going to have a terrible shock; your husband is dead.' Well, I say to you now, dear Hildegarde, don't be frightened, but I must have four thousand marks. The deuce take it, but I haven't had a bit of luck lately. Yesterday morning I had a whole heap of dunning letters. I didn't know myself where all the people came from who suddenly demanded money. Where on earth am I to get it from without stealing it? So I tried my luck at cards, but the luck was against me, and when I woke up this morning with a splitting headache I found I had lost four thousand marks. Thank heaven I have three days' respite, but then I must settle the affair, or nothing else remains but to put the necessary bullet through my head. You know that other debts don't worry me, but gambling debts are debts of honour, and there must be no fleck on our honour. Rather than this, we must make our exit from this world. Better die than be dishonoured. So, dear Hilda, I must have four brown bits of paper, and you must manage to get them for me. I ask you this with much less reluctance than usual, because I hear with the greatest joy that you are just about to be engaged. Well, it's high time, Hilda, both for you and for us. Don't disappoint us again. You have gone off considerably during the last year or so. When I saw you last I had quite a shock. Don't misunderstand me. You are still, of course, a very pretty girl, but nothing compared with what you were. Well, the main thing now is for you to capture this Winkler or whatever he's called. What sort of a man is he? Aunt writes to mother that he pays you the very greatest attention. You can imagine how beside themselves with joy they are at home. Father wrote to me that in honour of the welcome news he had immediately completed his wine cellar, and like a chivalrous gentleman he drank your health in French champagne. He can't stand that German stuff any longer. Father suffers frightfully from indigestion, you know. Aunt tells us also that your future father-in-law manufactures buttons. It's a frightful idea, but is it really true? However, the main thing is that he manufactures enough of them! Keep him tight! You have fine eyes, use them well and you'll secure him. And when you are once engaged, which it is to be hoped will be within the next few days, then hurry on the marriage, so that he may not have time for regrets, and before he learns how we are reckoning on his money. When he's once my brother-in-law I'll manage to extract the ducats from him. I don't feel in the least anxious about that!