Before the public he purposely exhibited a haughty, rough manner, but when he knew himself unobserved, then he hid his head in his hands and wept like a little child.
The old pact with the devil was broken. He sought something else which he could not find--a musical expression for the new, elevating charm which had recently enthralled him and for which he forgot his old art.
XXXV.
"Dear Father:--I have a great joy to confide to you. My husband's parents have become reconciled with me. They are here in Venice, where they will pass several weeks. They live in a hotel, but I see them every day, and have already learned to love my mother-in-law dearly. She reminds me a little of Lady Banbury, only she is not quite so magnificent and wise, but she is a very kind and distinguished old lady, and friendly beyond expectation to me. She is indescribably charming with the children.
"You should only see her sitting on the floor building the St. Mark's Church with blocks for Harry. Harry is naturally the favorite; he has the Bärenburg family look.
"But still he has something of my dear, wild father; he prefers to build the Campanile than the St. Mark's Church, because 'it falls together with such a nice noise when it is finished,' he said to me yesterday, and then his eyes sparkled so, and he danced about so that I embraced him for it.
"Naturally my position has changed for the better. My mother-in-law is one of those who do nothing by halves. She has introduced me to many ladies, and already taken me several times 'into society'--the Venetian society as preliminary. Ah, if you knew how hard it was for me to go among people the first time! I could scarcely stand. Now I have almost accustomed myself to it. I still indeed prefer to remain at home, but my mother-in-law may be right when she forces me to 'show myself,' when she tells me that it is an injustice to my family to yield to my selfish preference for solitude. Yes, certainly she is right. The proof of it is the total change which has taken place in my husband since I have won my little place in society, and--I may say it to you without vanity--since I have been made something of, for they are really very good to me. My music comes to my help. Karl is as pleased as a child at my social success, and is not weary of repeating to me the compliments which they pay him about me.
"He suddenly sees me with quite different eyes, and pays court to me like a lover. He asks my advice in everything, and is never weary of saying how pleasant it is to have a clever wife who can think for one.
"And I, at first--I tell this to you only, papa--at first this change filled me with bitterness. I was no worse at that time when others would know nothing of me. But I restrain myself. Do I not fare better, much better, than I ever dared expect? Whatever I can do to make his life pleasant I will do.
"Can you guess who has done all this for me? My old friend, Nita. Soon after you left here she came to Venice to see me, because my letters had made her sad. And she did not rest until, with the powerful help of Lady Banbury, who is, as you know, the sister of my mother-in-law, she had brought about the reconciliation between Karl and his parents. What trouble she took, how many letters she wrote, how she travelled here and there--it is not to be described.