Not long ago Prince Theobald had built a splendid palace in the Maximilian Strasse; it was destined for the Countess Angela, in the case that she agreed to her grandfather's wish as to her marriage. The palace was furnished with the utmost magnificence. The countess, however, had thought otherwise. She broke off her marriage with Sondersheim; she had good reasons, no doubt, but she need not have openly defied her grandfather. It was unwise of her so to do, for Evila was weaving her spell closer round the old man's heart, and Angela had best be prudent, and return speedily to Vienna, else the palace in the Maximilian Strasse will be presented, without a shadow of doubt, to Madame Kaulmann.
Arpad's letters had made Ivan acquainted with the ins and outs of the whole affair; through them he had learned that the woman he had loved had become the wife of another man, and was likely to be the mistress of a third. The first blow he could bear with a certain resignation; he wished her all happiness; but that she should sink up to the neck in shame, led thither by the act of her own husband, was a bitter thought! No, that she should be saved from, if Ivan could compass her deliverance. For this end he remained in Pesth. Hence it seemed to him he could pull the strings of this complex drama, and defeat the conspiracy against Evila's honor; for this purpose he went into a world that he despised, affected a manner of life totally inconsistent with his ideas, and cultivated a friendship with the Countess Angela, that his influence might induce her to play the part of the good angel.
Was he a fool to sacrifice his own feelings for a woman who had inflicted upon him the severest mortification a man can endure? Those whose hearts are dominated by cold prudence will judge his folly perhaps rightly; those who have hearts that feel for others will acknowledge that he did well in obeying its dictates, and from his own point of view, perhaps, he acted for his own ultimate advantage.
If Prince Theobald is induced to consent to the lease of his property to the Bondavara Company, Ivan's little coal-mine is ruined. Good if he can, while working for another, help himself. A man of business is always a speculator; therefore we say to the warm-hearted and compassionate that Ivan acted a part to save Evila from shame, and to the cold-hearted and unfeeling that it was all in the way of business, to save, if he could, his little all from the monster company ready to devour it bodily.
Arpad continued to send the photographs. They were of all kinds, tragic and comic. "Medea," with her murderous revenge and jealousy; the daughter of Herod, with her voluptuous dance to gain the saint's head; the cruelty of "Judith," the wild laughter of "Jeanne la Folle," the devotion of a holy nun, the coquettish tricks of a grisette, a languid Creole, a supernatural "Will-o'-the-Wisp"—these were the principal representations in which Ivan found rather studied effort at catching an artistic effect than natural instinct or expression. This was the school of Madame Grissac, to whom Felix had intrusted Evila's education. Two portraits that came at the end produced upon Ivan a painful impression. One represented a mother by the cradle of her child, the other a peasant girl, a coal-carrier, with her hair plaited down her back, and a red frock tucked up above her ankles. It pained Ivan deeply that she should profane these two sacred subjects. Why take a mother's love to be made a vehicle to create an old man's admiration? And the girl with the red frock! Ah, that was unpardonable! He could not forgive her for having wounded him to the very heart.
One day the artist wrote to Ivan—
"My good patron, Felix Kaulmann, is an out-and-out scoundrel. Up to the present he generally attends the rehearsals when the prince is present. Yesterday Prince Theobald seemed quite excited, so much so that Kaulmann was struck by it. To his question the prince said that he was very happy. He had received a letter from his granddaughter, the Countess Angela. She wrote in the most friendly manner. She told him that she had met a certain Ivan Behrend, who had the courage to give her a regular scolding, and had told her to her face what was the duty of the Hungarian magnates towards their country, a duty in which they were wanting, and which Prince Theobald would fulfil if he left Vienna and came to reside in Pesth, in which case the countess would agree to a reconciliation. The old prince seemed so happy at the idea of seeing his child again! Kaulmann, however, looked very black, blacker still when the prince said he would consider the matter; but that, as the countess had taken a fancy to Pesth, he thought he would go there. Inwardly Felix gnashed his teeth with rage, outwardly he expressed great satisfaction that the countess had at last broken the ice; it was a good sign that she was getting tired of her obstinacy. But if he were in the prince's situation he would try and persuade the countess to come to Vienna, instead of going himself to Pesth. The prince listened to this suggestion; he fell into the trap, and will not go at once to Pesth, but will try to bring back the countess. In the meantime we are to have the two last rehearsals. The thirty-second is the representation of 'Julia Gonzaga,' whose story you will find in any library. The most interesting part of this scene is the toilette of the heroine, who appears in a night-dress made of muslin, with her feet naked. In spite of this rather risky costume the lady's virtue was irreproachable, for in her hand she held a dagger, and threatened to kill any one who ventured to look at her feet. As I wrote to you, Kaulmann has always been present at these rehearsals, but from this one of 'Julia Gonzaga' he is obliged to absent himself, as he has to go away for a few days. I believe that my office should be called garde des dames. As it happens, however, on this occasion I, too, am unavoidably prevented from being present. When I went home and showed mamma the enclosed photograph she shuddered, and positively forbade me to assist at a rehearsal in which a woman appeared in such a costume. I must plead illness or any other cause, but stay at home I must. I thought over several lies, but at last I decided that I would tell my gracious pupil the truth; so I did.
"'Listen,' I said. 'My mother will not allow me to accompany you if you sing barefoot. If it is really the point of the piece that 'Julia' must present herself without stockings on her feet, then I must deny myself the pleasure of playing on the piano.'
"The silly child laughed very much, and said she would get somebody else. She may do as she likes; I don't care. Mamma is perfectly right in forbidding me to go, and I think that I have done perfectly right to tell my pupil why I refuse to accompany her."
This letter depressed Ivan. For a long time he looked at the photograph, considering it from every point of view. Evila in a dress the thin material of which showed every motion of her plastic limbs; in one hand she gathered the folds across her breast, her eyes had a murderous glare in their violet depths, her long and beautiful hair fell to her feet; in her right hand she pointed a dagger towards a motionless form which lay at her feet covered by a rug. This was the second time that Ivan had heard the story from a lady.