And now she stood opposite him, and the only look that was exchanged between them showed her that he had come into her presence not less unexpectedly.
A violin concerto, which, to Rosenbusch's great disgust, interrupted him in an eloquent description of the pleasant summer weather in the Bavarian mountains, gave her time to collect her thoughts and to recover herself so far, at least, as not to betray by her manner the emotions that were at strife within her. But what would come next--what she ought to do--was no clearer to her now, when the last tones of the violins were dying away, than in the first few minutes.
"My friend the baron has suddenly disappeared," Rosenbusch now began again. "You must have got a curious impression of him; for, upon my word, he stood before you like a painted Turk, as they say here in Munich. I'll eat my head if I can understand why he suddenly became such a stick. He is generally a devilish jolly fellow, and not at all bashful in the presence of ladies."
"He is--your friend?" she asked, in an almost inaudible voice.
"We have known each other for several weeks, and you know, until one has eaten salt with a man--in the mean time, I imagine I think more of him than he does of your humble servant."
"Your friend--is also an artist?"
"Most certainly, Fräulein. He has devoted himself to sculpture under the instruction of his old friend, the celebrated Jansen. How he suddenly came to do it, no one knows. Don't you, too, think he looks more like a cavalier? At all events there is something so romantic, interesting, and Lord Byronish about him that I should not wonder at all if he found tremendous favor with the women. I beg pardon, if I have expressed myself too freely."
He grew red and plucked at his cuffs. She appeared to take no offense at his forcible style, but merely asked again, in the most indifferent tone:
"You think he has no talent?"
"How much talent he has, God only knows," replied his friend candidly. "But one thing is certain, a gigantic courage and a devilish deal of perseverance are required of one who ventures to take up with sculpture nowadays. You wouldn't believe, Fräulein, how difficult it is--in this profession of all others--to find the means with which to mount to the source, in this strait-laced civilization of ours, with its conventional prejudices. The days when three goddesses did not think it improper to get a certificate of their beauty from a royal goatherd--I beg a thousand pardons, I always do wax warm when I think of our wretched art-condition, and then I blurt out whatever comes into my head. This much is certain: if my friend has allowed himself to be induced merely by his love of beauty to become an artist, instead of living on his estates, he will find he has reckoned without his host even here in Munich. There are charming girls here, to be sure;--seen on the street as they sweep by in their coquettish costumes, with their little hats and chignons, one might almost be tempted to sell one's soul to the devil out of pure delight--but when one comes to examine them by a stronger light--"