"'If it's only not something of the same kind, a comparison which must result to the disadvantage of the man she has chosen, that is affecting our countess', I instantly said to myself. But I soon perceived that your old relations had not the slightest connection with the matter.
"In the first place, the count who made various confessions, such as are heard only by a physician or priest, did not give the slightest intimation that an older affection might be at the bottom of her mysterious conduct. He took me directly to his study and there gave me a detailed account of the four years of his married life. He knew that she became his wife without love. She had not attempted to conceal the fact from him for a moment, and, madly in love with her, as he was and unfortunately is to this hour, contented himself with the thought that he was no more repulsive to her than other men, toward whom she usually showed a coldness of which he cheerfully bore his share. The old, oft verified consolation that 'love will come after marriage,' and 'there's no ice which a real fire can't ultimately melt,' helped him through the short period of betrothal. Then came the strangeness of her new surroundings, her struggle with all sorts of hostile elements in his family, which to be sure resulted in a brilliant victory for the young plebeian, but which did not exactly win her to greater tenderness. But to his astonishment, even after marriage, the statue did not grow warm in his arms. Probably the worthy nobleman lacked many qualities essential to a Pygmalion. Yet he assured me that, despite her inflexible coldness and reserve, he had treated her with the utmost affection and spared her in every way.
"But now comes the strangest part of the tale. A child was born, a bright boy, yet even this most powerful of all mediators did not succeed in breaking the ice. Nay, it actually seemed as if the much desired happy event only estranged the young wife still more. After the child's birth, the countess, although she continued to live under the same roof, effected an entire separation from her husband, locked herself up in her own rooms, which he was never permitted to enter, and only spoke to him at table, at large entertainments, and at hunting parties, in which she took the most enthusiastic delight.
"All his efforts to break through this unnatural seclusion were in vain. Nay, she even extended her aversion to the child, and usually left it entirely to the nurse. But when, at seven months it suddenly fell sick with any apparent cause, she didn't leave its bed day or night and was evidently deeply affected by its death.
"But the expectations of her husband and the old countess that she would now be softened and feel disposed to resume the old relations again, were not verified. Nay, she began to seclude herself still more and to adopt an even more capricious mode of life. This went so far that she turned day into night and night into day, and only very seldom, on some unusual occasion, though always present at the hunting parties, did she appear among the guests in the castle. At such times there was nothing noticeable in her manner, she was cordial and even gay, and a stranger would have had no suspicion that anything unusual was taking place. When the count's mother died, she attended the funeral with every sign of sincere sorrow and held out her hand to her husband for the first time in a year. But directly after the body was interred, she again disappeared in her own rooms and continued the old hermit life.
"I asked the count whether he had not himself questioned her concerning the cause of this singular seclusion. He replied that he had done so more than once, but she would not speak frankly, and only said she perceived that she had been very foolish to marry him. She could not and would not reproach him, but it would be better for both if he would consent to a separation. She would never change her mind, never submit to live with him as his wife again. She was sorry for him, but she couldn't help it.
"In this resolution she remained firm, and neither kind measures nor harsh produced any effect. After lavishing prayers and endearments, anger overpowered him. The thought of being made a fool of by a woman, to whose obedience he had the best claim, made his brain whirl. In the madness of his pain and anger he burst into savage threats and cursed the hour when he first saw her. She looked at him with a perfect calmness and only replied: 'you're right to curse my existence; I curse it, too. Put an end to this sad story and set me free.'
"But this he could not resolve to do. He could not banish the thought that time must aid him. To give her a chance for reflection and perhaps to accustom himself to do without her, he spent six months in traveling and led a tolerably gay life in Paris and Berlin, but his love was not weakened nor did he find the smallest change in her on his return; If there was any alteration, it was for the worse; she was even colder, sterner, and more reserved toward him and more dissatisfied with life. Yet her bodily health had never been better, her sleep, her looks, her pleasure in hunting and even in dancing, when, during the winter, she was sometimes invited to neighboring castles. Now, however, even strangers couldn't fail to notice, that in the midst of the gayest mood her features would become terribly rigid and stony, and she either turned her horse and dashed off home, or left her partner standing on the ball room floor, and without the slightest reason or excuse ordered her horses to be harnessed. There were a great many discussions and consultations about the matter; the family physician, an old and tolerably skillful man, with whom I speedily came to an understanding, shrugged his shoulders; one medical notability after another, upon being consulted, could not even obtain an interview, or, like the christian physician in the harem, be permitted to feel the beautiful patient's pulse through a hole in the wall; so matters were as hopeless as they well could be, and the fear that monomania or some serious derangement of the mind was imminent, was unfortunately only too well justified.
"A lady who had known the count in Berlin, and in whose family I had once been successful in curing a patient, mentioned my name to him. So I came to the castle, and when on the following day I sent in my name to the countess, simply as an old acquaintance, who had accidentally wandered here while on a journey and merely wished to present himself to her, I cherished the brightest hopes of penetrating the secret, since I was at least admitted, a favor which had been obstinately refused to all the other physicians who had been summoned.
"But I was very much mistaken. She received me as frankly and cordially as in Jägerstrasse, seemed to remember every incident of those days, down to the magical feast in the Pagoda, which was the last time I saw her. She even inquired about you; you were doubtless married and no longer lived in Berlin; then she wished to know what had happened to the other guests at our bacchanalian revel at Charlottenburg. I clearly perceived that she listened to my answers absently, not as if she were giving herself airs, like a great lady who wishes to awe a plebeian, but with an expression of profound weariness, numbness, and joylessness, such as I have seen in the first stages of mental disorder, or in the half lucid intervals of incurable lunatics. I can truly say, that rarely have I so earnestly desired to be a medical genius, which--between ourselves--I'm not. She's a beautiful creature, you've no idea what she has become; I can easily understand, that a man who has once possessed her, would rather die than consent to a separation. If I say this, who knows tolerably well what beautiful women are, and that in the end one gets tired of even the fairest, it means something. She probably perceived what an impression she made upon me, and that I asked how she had fared with real friendly solicitude. 'Dear Herr Doctor,' said she, suddenly rising as if to close the interview, 'I know why you're here. The count wishes to learn from you whether I'm still in possession of my five senses, or if I run any risk of losing one or more of them. Give yourself no anxiety about me, I'm as well as a fish in water, and what I lack to be able to enjoy my life as thoughtlessly as most other women, is not to be had from an apothecary or discovered anywhere between heaven and earth. The count has doubtless told you that I should like to go away from here, and be free again. If you could persuade him to consent to this, it would be the best thing you could do and I should be sincerely grateful to you. Besides, it's more for his sake than my own, that I should like to be separated from him. I pity him, as I should pity a living man bound to a corpse. Just feel how cold! She held out her hand to me; it was really cold enough to startle one. 'Yes, yes,' said she, 'it's always so; I wish all was over. But what's done can't be undone.'