Judith Trachtenberg: A Novel

by Karl Emil Franzos

The burgomaster (he was the apothecary of the town) began his address. He was a small, thin man, with a shrivelled-up face, who, when silent, made one think of a sick chicken; but he had a lion's voice in his throat, and was celebrated as the Demosthenes of the countryside. He did not discredit his reputation on this occasion, as he plunged with enthusiasm into the depths of the Middle Ages, raising the query as to whether the family of the Baranowskis was more ancient than that of the Jagellon, and thus embracing a comprehensive glance over Polish history.

Count Agenor, a young, well-built man, with a sad, handsome face, which was very pale by contrast with his jet-black beard, listened attentively at first, and then began to look about him. His eyes swept the windows of the Trachtenberg house, and Judith colored violently, for she saw distinctly how his face kindled as they rested on her window. Was this for her?

Her neighbors remarked it, too, and one hissed to the other, "The colors have had effect!" She heard it distinctly, and was about to withdraw, but the apothecary just at that moment ended his speech; the crowd shouted "Huzza!" The count said a few words of thanks, and was about to enter his carriage again, when Nathaniel stepped forward.

She saw how the young nobleman turned impatiently away and looked up at her window, and again she blushed painfully.

Her father said but a few words; the count thanked him by an inclination of his head, and, preceded by his escort, he drove on. As he passed the window, he looked up and saluted, placing his hand on his jewelled konfederatka.

"It is evident he has no liking for us," Trachtenberg remarked at dinner, a few hours later; but when Raphael made another cutting observation, he said, good-humoredly, "Do you think he would like us better if, contrary to usage and good-breeding, we had taken no part in his welcome?"

Raphael made no reply, but sat looking moodier than ever, until, dinner ended, he quitted the room, going, as he said, to pack his trunks. Judith then plucked up courage and offered her assistance, somewhat flippantly, indeed, making a jest of his awkwardness.

She adopted this manner to keep up her courage and to prepare an opening for escape in case of a snub; but Raphael heard only the mockery, and answered, bitterly, that he would be able to do without help, and left the room angrily. Still she kept to her good resolutions, and was glad when another opportunity was thrown in her way.

Late that afternoon, shortly after Von Wroblewski had returned from the reception at the Baranowski castle, Wanda came running down-stairs to beg Judith, in her mother's name, to go up that evening, as several young ladies had declined just at the last moment. This had frequently occurred, and, owing to their intimacy, Judith had taken it in good part. But on this occasion she declined, since it was Raphael's last evening at home. Wanda, however, would not allow this. "You must come! Bring Raphael with you."

He had not gone on their stairs for more than a year, and that Lady Anna should invite "that gloomy follower of the Talmud" to her most brilliant party was surprising. It shot through her brain--"She is inviting him because she knows he will not go." So she answered she would accept the invitation with pleasure if she could induce Raphael to do so too.