Part 5 (2/2)
Meanwhile, Lisbeth had seized upon the large envelope lying upon the table, and was trying to spell out the address.
”What a funny letter! Is it to you? Why is there no 'Fraulein' on it?”
she asked, handing the letter to her sister, who observed for the first time that the envelope was addressed 'To my grand-daughter Johanna.'
She now remembered that letters from Donninghausen to her mother had always been sent in an enclosure, and the address only of the envelope within had been written by her grandfather, and had always been 'To my daughter Agnes.' The Freiherr could not bring himself to write the hated name of the actor.
With a sigh, Johanna broke the seal and read:
”MY DEAR CHILD,--Now that you are, as I learn, an orphan indeed, it seems to me a matter of course that you should come as soon as possible to your natural home,--that is, to my house. Write to me when you intend to start, that I may send you a suitable escort.
”Your affectionate grandfather,
”JOHANN HEINRICH V. DoNNINGHAUSEN.”
Johanna's hands fell by her sides. Not one word of pity for her loss, of sympathy for the death of the famous artist, or of welcome for the unknown grandchild. No, she could never find a home in a house where her father's name was despised!
But then she recalled what her cousin Otto had said of her grandfather's n.o.ble nature, which his harsh exterior continually gainsaid. Perhaps it might be given to her to reconcile the old n.o.bleman with her father's memory; and Magelone was there, witty and talented, and Cousin Otto made frequent visits to Donninghausen. He would always pay to the dead the tribute of admiration which she coveted. Should she go? Her glance fell upon Lisbeth, sitting opposite her, her eyes fixed upon the ground, her little face sad with that look of misery which is so indescribably pathetic in a child. ”No, I cannot leave my darling. What is Donninghausen to me?” she said to herself, and clasped her sister in her arms.
Meanwhile, Otto had returned to his hotel, whence before leaving town he wrote to Magelone:
”GRACIOUS SOVEREIGN,--Your commands are obeyed. When I delivered our grandfather's letter I exercised in your behalf all the power of observation with which I am gifted, and can state, so far as can be learned in the limits of a brief interview, that the reality coincides with excellent Frau Werth's description. Our cousin is rather plain than pretty, but looks clever and distinguished, has quiet, pleasing manners,--in a word, she seems to me entirely presentable, and eminently adapted to indemnify you for the fatiguing society of your Knight of the Rueful Countenance.
”I seize this favourable opportunity for prostrating myself--only metaphorically, alas!--at the smallest feet in the world, and am, as ever, O fairest Magelone,
”Your cousin and slave,
”OTTO.”
CHAPTER IV.
FUTURE PLANS DECIDED.
Immediately after her father's death, Johanna had received an affectionate letter from Ludwig, and her grandfather's note was scarcely read before a second budget from Lindenbad brought her letters from each member of the Werner family.
Old Dr. Werner, after his own simple and cordial manner, begged Johanna to return to them. Mathilde a.s.sured her in choice phraseology that she should rejoice to welcome her dear foster-sister, who, she trusted, would not feel too deeply the change from the luxury and freedom from restraint which belonged to an artist's world, to a quiet, monotonous existence spent in devotion to duty. Ludwig, writing in his turn, feared lest he might have wounded her by his bluntness in their last interview, and offered, if for any reason she would avoid living beneath the same roof with him, to spend the winter in Weimar, where he could easily complete his work.
The advantage that the public library in Weimar would be to him would be an abundant motive to a.s.sign for this step, and he added: ”What I shall do with myself afterwards I do not know. At all events, all idea of the Lindenbad idyl is relinquished. I pray you to acquaint me unreservedly with your wishes, and I a.s.sure you that you will delight us all by coming to us, and most of all your brother LUDWIG.”
”How good and kind he is!” Johanna said to herself. ”It is a great pity that, with all his goodness and kindness, he should be so unattractive.”
Otto's image rose in her memory in strong contrast,--the elegant ease of his bearing, his courtesy, which occasionally seemed more than mere courtesy, his fine figure and handsome face. Was her grandfather like him? And the beautiful Magelone,--did she really possess everything that he ascribed to her,--beauty, wit, talent, amiability? Perhaps he loved her.
”All are loved save myself,” Johanna thought. ”I have been here a whole year, and have won no single heart except that of my little sister, who would soon, after the fas.h.i.+on of a child, forget me were I to leave her.
Ludwig's love I lost before I knew that I possessed it, and even the father whom I idolized had not a single thought for me in his last moments.”
Her own sentiments, however, she vowed to herself, never should be influenced by this knowledge. As in a sanctuary, she would guard and cherish in her heart the memory of her father and of the lofty service he had rendered to art, and where could she better do this than here, where everything reminded her of him, where she inhaled, as it were, the aroma of his personality? The longer she reflected, the clearer was her conviction that she must stay where she was.
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