Only a Girl: or, A Physician for the Soul.

by Wilhelmine von Hillern

"I cannot imagine how you can give way so. You never used to do it. When I think of the self-control that you were wont to exercise,--your determination would have done honour to a man,--and now! Oh, it is deplorable!"

"You torture me, uncle!" cried Ernestine, as she threw several books into a chest at her side. "You will not believe that I am really much weaker than I have ever been before. It is of my own free will that I am going away--why should I not hasten as much as I can?"

Her uncle looked askance at her with a smile. "You are mistaken, my child. It is not your will that is acting,--it is only a whim that thus urges you on. And a whim is the child of circumstances, and can be controlled by them."

"I do not know what circumstances could control this 'whim,' as you are pleased to call it. Nothing can happen to-day or to-morrow to change my determination. What delay can you apprehend? No one knows of my departure, so that it cannot be impeded by remonstrances from any quarter. I have not even told good old Leonhardt that I am going, and Willmers heard it only this morning. Could I do more to prove to you that I am in earnest?"

Leuthold looked at her again with his sarcastic smile. He knew well that Ernestine had preserved this strict silence concerning her departure only because she did not feel strong enough to withstand any friendly remonstrances. Therefore he trembled lest some unforeseen accident might yet divulge her plans. His very existence depended upon her staying or going. During the four weeks that had elapsed since Ernestine's return from town, Leuthold's entire influence had been exerted to remove Ernestine from this part of the country, and, if possible, from Germany. She must never again see the man who had evidently made such an impression upon her. Now less than ever could she be allowed to form any attachment, for, if she were now to marry, and require her property at his hands, he was lost! He had cautiously managed to secure an appointment, through an American agent, in a large chemical manufactory in New York. To Ernestine he had opened the brilliant prospect of delivering a course of scientific lectures there. The fact that she had received the prize from a German university for one of her papers would surely suffice to make her reputation in America,--and Leuthold had honestly done his best to have her fame as an intellectual phenomenon noised abroad. In his present embarrassed circumstances, it was of the greatest importance to him that she should be placed in a position to support herself, that she might not be a burden to him. If the lectures did not succeed, she would have to earn her living as a "female physician." But upon this point he prudently forbore to enlighten her. He fired her imagination with the enormous advantages, pecuniary and other, that must accrue from her lectures. The means that he employed to win her to his purpose were to an ambitious woman irresistible. She saw before her a future such as no woman had hitherto enjoyed. She saw herself in one of the vast halls of New York, lecturing to a crowd of men who were all listening attentively to--a girl! She saw herself regarded as the miracle of her sex. The most secret dreams of her pride were to be realized,--the seeds of her quiet diligence were to spring up and bud forth in the sight of all,---the world should ring with the fame of what a woman could do. And yet it was hard to decide; it was weeks before she could bring herself to sign the simple letters of her name to the acceptance of these proposals; no labour of her life--nothing whereon she had expended days and nights of study--ever cost her as much as this single signature.

Möllner's grave, earnest face had scared her back from clutching these new honours, as Banquo's ghost frightened the usurper from the royal chair. It seemed to her that she was guilty of a crime towards him,--and at last, in a torment of doubt, she secretly wrote to him. She told him everything, and begged for his counsel and advice. She did not conceal from him that she could not take so decisive a step without his blessing. Why this letter never reached Möllner, no one knew besides Leuthold, except Käthchen and her parents.

Day after day passed, and of course Ernestine waited in vain for an answer. She waited as if for a decree of life or death. Sleep refused to visit her burning eyelids. She took barely sufficient nourishment to support life. She pined with desire for only one word--one single word--from Möllner,--and it did not come. She was no longer worth a stroke of his pen. Since her refusal of his suit, he would none of her. He had conquered himself,--had given her up,--and in how short a time!

And the more she had longed for a letter or a visit from him, the greater was her bitterness of mind,--the offence to her pride,--when she received neither. As often as she approached her writing-table, her eyes were greeted by the large capitals of the flattering proposal she had received, with all its alluring promises. What was there now to wait for? Why should she hesitate now? And so she signed her acceptance.

And now nothing should cause her to waver in her pride of purpose. She would have the revenge of being irrevocably lost to him, she would vanish without one word of farewell, that from a distant quarter of the globe the fame of her greatness might reach his ears.

She did not even confide in Willmers, for she dreaded her garrulity. Only on the very last day the housekeeper received orders to dispose of Ernestine's movables as quickly as possible, and then to follow her, for Leuthold wished, before sailing, to take leave of Gretchen, whom he purposed to leave in Germany for the present. But Ernestine was to accompany him. He would not,--he dared not now,--lose sight of her for a moment.