"We have been baptized these hundred years, and my grandmother came from a Christian family, and was a Fräulein Fliedermüller."
"Then, besides, I found you too--how shall I say?--too 'pretty' for a man, and the others all said you were amiable. Pretty and amiable men have always been intolerable to me. They are generally conscious of it, and contemplate themselves in the glass at moments when they are not watched, and comb their beard and even their eyebrows. And all the while they care for no one but themselves; and, if they pretend to grow sentimental over a woman, it is done in such a way that the unfortunate person thus favored would rather receive a box on the ear than such homage, if her heart is in the right place. Don't get angry, Rosenbusch; it isn't your fault that you have such a pretty little nose and are so amiable--for that you really are. But you will understand; an old girl who is no longer pretty, and who never was considered amiable--"
"Oh, Angelica!--"
"No, you mustn't interrupt me. It would be very stupid of me if I were not wise enough to know how I look, and what impression I make upon people after having had nearly thirty years in which to make my own acquaintance. How old are you, Rosenbusch?"
"I shall be thirty-one on the fifth of August."
"Then there is scarcely thirteen months difference between us. Don't you see, that in itself is an objection? But to proceed: your flute-playing, your white mice, your many love-affairs; can you blame me for looking upon you as a man who was not in the slightest degree dangerous--to me, at least? I had formed a very different idea of the man who was to win my heart, and, if I chanced to find such a one, I knew at once that it would be an unfortunate affair if I regarded the matter seriously. For such men want very different wives, and in that they are quite right. So I intrenched my poor soul behind my sense of humor, and, as you see, that was both a good and a bad thing to do; good, because it has helped me over many a bitter hour; bad, because it made me appear even less amiable than I really am at bottom. A woman who has humor, who does not weigh each of her words--where are the men who still believe that a good, womanly heart lies behind it all? The conceited men, like yourself, for instance, are especially repelled by such a one. Unless we cower in sweet bashfulness before your great words and beards, we are not worthy to be loved by your great souls. For that reason I was truly never more astonished by anything than by what you have just said to me. It is true, that since--well, for some time past I will say--I have gained a very different opinion of you; it is my duty to confess this to you after having so candidly told you the rest to your face. I have learned to esteem you highly, Rosenbusch; I--I even believe I must make use of a stronger expression; I have conceived a hearty love and affection for you--no, you mustn't interrupt me by a single word, it must all come out first. Do you know, on that night when you behaved so naughtily--you recollect it, don't you?--you took a liberty which you regarded merely as the toll of gallantry, but which a girl who has any respect for herself--though I have no prudish notions about such things when people are really in love with one another--and that was it that made me feel so badly, because you took such a liberty without really loving me; and I believe I didn't close an eye half that night, and that I shed many secret tears, because--because, do what I would, I couldn't be angry with you for it!"
"Angelica!" he cried, eagerly, approaching to seize her hand, which, however, she instantly drew back. "Why do you speak this way, if you will not make me happy--if you will not even let me kiss your hand? No, I won't be kept from speaking any longer; for, no matter how much about my bad qualities you may still have on your conscience, you can no longer deny that you like me, that you think well of me; and that is the main thing and a thousand times better than I ever dared to hope. Dearest, best Angelica, only try and believe that even a thirty-one-year-old battle-painter can improve. I will stop up my flute with lead, I will give my mice strychnine in a piece of Swiss cheese, and will wear a covering over my nose so that the children shall run away at sight of me. And, finally, in regard to my love-affairs--do you really believe I am so wanting in taste, to say nothing of all nobler motives, as to have eyes for such every-day doll-faces, after having found in your countenance the image of all love and goodness, of all wisdom and grace?"
In the mean while he got possession of one of her hands and pressed it so earnestly, at the same time gazing into her face with such true-hearted, mischievous eyes, that she grew quite red and came very near losing her firmness. However, she quickly recovered herself again and said:
"You are a truly dangerous man, Rosenbusch. I begin to realize that now from my own experience. If I did not call to my aid all the little sense and self-consciousness I possess, we should now fall into one another's arms, and ruin would take its course. One more name would stand on your list; you would go to the war, and there, in the great events that go to make up the history of the world, you would find the very best excuse for letting this little affair of the heart drop completely out of your memory. No, my friend, I think too much of myself for that. I confidently believe that my respected person has merely become of importance in your eyes, because I have heretofore withstood your amiability in a perfectly incomprehensible way. As soon as you should become convinced that I too am only a weak woman, I should become a matter of great indifference to you. Now, it is true, my stupid honesty has prevented me from concealing this from you; but I don't regard myself as hopelessly lost even yet. Now, if you go to the war, we shall both be equally well off. We shall both have ample time and opportunity for forgetting one another. I, to be sure, here alone in this deathly quiet house, where I hear nothing but the squeak of your mice--I shall have somewhat the harder time. But perhaps some other dangerous youth will move into your quarters--a dark-complexioned Hungarian or Pole--I have always had a partiality for brunettes, and for that reason alone it is a great mistake for me to love you with your red beard."
She had to turn her head away, it was impossible for her to conceal her emotion any longer by forced jests. She stealthily pressed her curls against her overflowing eyes, but, nevertheless, she shook her head when he put his arm around her and drew her to his breast.