Part 4 (1/2)

”Of course I cannot withdraw my stipulations,” Roderich added, ”and therefore cannot renew my contract, favourable as its conditions were for me.”

”You can get another anywhere else quite as favourable, and even more so,” said Helena.

”But not the accessories which I have here,” Roderich declared. ”Not the intelligent public, nor the charming _mise-en-scene_ which makes each separate performance a work of art.”

”That is no affair of yours,” said Helena. ”Each for himself, and G.o.d for us all. And as for the public, I can't see that it is especially intelligent. Wherever else you go you receive more applause than you get here, and so do I.”

”Applause!” he repeated, with an impatient shrug. ”Dear Helena, there is a kind of applause that makes me blush with mortification; but from your point of view you can hardly understand this.”

How gladly would Johanna have a.s.sured him that she understood him perfectly! But while she was struggling with her natural shyness, Helena exclaimed, ”If you think so meanly of me, pray do not proclaim it before other people; it is more than I can bear.”

Roderich changed colour. ”To accuse me of unkindness just when I am sacrificing all my plans for your sake is rather hard!” he said. And, rising from table, he left the room suddenly, slamming the door noisily behind him.

Lisbeth, terrified, began to cry, the others were amazed. Never before had he allowed himself to be so carried away by temper.

”He must be ill,” said Johanna.

”Nonsense! he is out of temper,” said Helena, ”and he shall not hear a kind word from me until he begs my pardon.”

Johanna was right. In half an hour Friedrich announced that the Herr had one of his attacks of headache, and could see no one.

On such days there seemed to be a spell upon the entire household. Every voice was lowered, every footfall was as light as possible, and Friedrich m.u.f.fled the bell upon the landing.

This time, Johanna learned from Friedrich, the pain was not so intense as usual, but it did not pa.s.s away at the end of twenty-four hours.

When, in spite of it, Roderich went to rehearsal the next day, he returned more ill than ever. The third day fever set in, and the physician ordered him to bed.

Helena had not forgiven the scene at table.

”It surely is not very bad, doctor,” she said, as she accompanied the physician from the room. ”I am just ordering a magnificent costume for Desdemona. Oth.e.l.lo comes out next week; you must have him well by that time.”

”We will hope for the best,” the old man said, as he took his leave.

Johanna, who overheard his words, was startled. She knew from Dr. Werner what these words signified in a physician's mouth. Whilst Helena carelessly returned to her costume, Johanna waited with a throbbing heart at her father's door until the servant made his appearance.

”Pray ask papa, Friedrich, whether I may not come in,” she said.

The sick man heard her. ”Come!” he called. His voice, usually so full and sonorous, sounded m.u.f.fled, and his face was still more changed: it was colourless, and looked pinched and wan upon the pillow.

Johanna went to his bedside, with difficulty suppressing all signs of emotion. ”Papa,” she entreated, ”let me stay with you. You have Friedrich, it is true, but I know better than he how to nurse an invalid.”

For a while he gazed at her as if he scarcely understood her words.

”Yes, stay with me,” he said; ”I think I am really very ill, and you are more careful, quieter, stronger----”

He did not finish the sentence, but she understood what he meant.

”Ah, thank you!” she said, kissing his burning hand.

He drew his daughter closer to him. ”My dear, good child!” he said, pressing his feverish lips to her forehead. She did not dream that it was a farewell caress.

The disease progressed rapidly, and was p.r.o.nounced by the physician the next day to be a nervous fever. He was quite content with Johanna's calm, careful treatment of his patient, but he begged Helena, who could not control her agitation, to spare her own delicate health for the sake of her child, and to be as little as possible in the sick-room. She sighed and submitted.