Lena was much pleased with all that she saw, and began to examine the pictures that hung in broad frames to the right and left of the bed. They were engravings, the subjects of which interested her keenly, and so she wanted to read the inscriptions under each. One was inscribed "Washington Crossing the Delaware" and the other "The Last Hour at Trafalgar." But she could get no further than merely to decipher the syllables, and although it was a very small matter, it gave her a pang, because it emphasised the chasm that divided her from Botho. He was, indeed, in the habit of making fun of learning and education, but she was clever enough to know what to think of such jesting.
Close to the entrance door, above a rococo table, on which stood some red glasses and a water carafe, hung a gay colored lithograph with an inscription in three languages: "Si jeunesse savait"--a picture which Lena remembered having seen at the Dörrs'. Dörr loved such things. When she saw it here again, she shivered and felt distressed. Her fine sensibility was hurt by the sensual quality of the picture as if it were a distortion of her own feeling, and so, in order to shake off the impression, the went to the window and opened both sashes to let in the night air. Oh. how refreshing it was! She seated herself on the windowsill, which was only a couple of hands' breadth from the floor, threw her left arm around the middle bar and listened to hear what was happening on the veranda. But she heard nothing. Deep stillness reigned, except that in the old elm there was a stirring and rustling, and any discomfort that might have lingered in her mind disappeared at once, as she gazed with ever-growing delight on the picture spread out before her. The water flowed gently, wood and meadow lay in the dim evening light, and the thin crescent of the new moon cast its light on the stream and showed the tremulous motion of the rippling waves.
"How beautiful," said Lena, drawing a deep breath. "And I am so happy," she added.
She could hardly bear to leave the view. But at last she rose, placed a chair before the glass and began to let down her beautiful hair and braid it. While she was thus occupied Botho came in.
"Lena, still up! I thought that I should have to wake you with a kiss."
"You are too early for that, however late you come."
And she rose and went to him. "My dearest Botho, How long you stayed away ..."
"And your fever? And your little attack?"
"It has passed off and I have felt well again for the last half hour. And I have been waiting for you all that time." And she led him over to the open window: "Only look. Would not the beauty of that view fill any poor human heart with longing?"
And she clung to him and just as she was closing her eyes, she looked up at him with an expression of rapture.