Part 17 (1/2)
The old lady withdrew with an air of surprise. Johann Leopold lay still, staring before him, while Johanna contemplated him with compa.s.sion. His sunken temples, his neglected beard, his haggard eyes, made him still look very ill.
”Red Jakob,--what do you know of him?” he asked at last.
”I asked Ludwig--Dr. Werner, I mean--to take your place there,” she replied. ”You can depend upon him----”
”I know that,” he interrupted her. ”Well, what does he think?--how is Jakob?”
”Not well; Ludwig thinks his arm will always be useless.”
”I thought so,” said the sick man. ”Does Christine know it?”
”Yes; I wrote her about it,” Johanna made answer. ”She was with him yesterday, and came to me afterwards. She was very sad----”
”And has given the poor fellow up, of course,” the invalid interposed.
”You do not really believe that,” said Johanna. ”Do you not remember calling them the 'happy unfortunates'? Christine considers it a matter of course that she is now to take care of the helpless man. 'G.o.d has taken from me my little Jakob, and so I am better able to work for the big one,' she said; adding that she would do it joyfully if he would only be content, but that it would almost break his heart not to be able to earn his own living.”
”Perhaps he may do so yet. I may be able to help him in that,” said Johann Leopold. And after a pause he went on, in a hard tone, ”Suppose I were no longer the heir, but ill and a cripple for my lifetime, how would my future betrothed behave to me? Do not reply. I know that our opinions upon this point agree, and that I cannot lay any claim to affection.”
He looked so unhappy as he spoke that Johanna felt compelled to contradict him, but he cut her words short impatiently.
”Let us consult about Red Jakob,” he said. ”With whole limbs he would have had to go, for the sake of grandpapa's game; but crippled he may stay. About a mile and a half from here, among the mountains, I have a small estate, inherited from my mother. It is called Forest Hermitage, and the house is little more than an observatory. The grounds about it I have laid out as a forester's garden. The man who has had the care of it wishes to move down among his children in the valley. What do you think?
Would Jakob and Christine like to live in that solitude?”
”They would be enraptured----” Johanna began.
The invalid interrupted her. ”Then Dr. Werner shall propose it to Jakob,” he said, and, covering his eyes with his hand, he sighed heavily. ”It would enrapture no one to live in a solitude with me,” he said, as if to himself, as Johanna, filled with solicitude lest the conversation should have been too much for him, called Aunt Thekla from the next room.
But the exertion seemed to have enabled Johann Leopold completely to conquer his disease. From this time he made rapid strides in convalescence; he was soon able to leave his bed, and at the end of January Aunt Thekla announced one morning with tears of joy, ”He is coming down at noon to-day.”
Just after this news, as Johanna and Magelone were left alone in the room, the latter said, ”Have you written to Otto?”
”No, not yet.” And Johanna bent over her work.
”He begged you so earnestly to do so. Why should you be so cruel to your friend?” Magelone continued. ”You really must do it; I ask you for my own sake. Otto must have carried off with him my little ivory tablets which he took from me to tease me. Write to him to send them back to me.”
”Why not do so yourself?” Johanna asked. ”Then you could inform him concerning Johann Leopold.”
”I? What are you thinking of?” exclaimed Magelone. ”I think he showed great tact in asking you to write.”
”Tact?” Johanna repeated. ”I do not understand you.”
”Why, yes; of course it would have been painful for me to destroy Otto's hopes. You are unconcerned, and can do so much better. How you look at me!” she went on. ”Did you never think that if Johann Leopold were to die, Otto would be the heir?”
”Magelone! You cannot believe that Otto reckoned upon that?” cried Johanna.
”I do not believe it: I know it. He has talked with me of it more than once,” Magelone replied. And after a pause she added, with a mocking smile, ”How you look, my dear Johanna! Is it possible that you can have been at all mistaken in our cousin Otto? His is no ideal character. He is a thorough man of the world, selfish and grasping in the extreme.”
Johanna made no reply, and was glad when Magelone soon after left the room. How could it be that this woman, who had known Otto from childhood, should judge him so falsely? A man of the world, yes; but far too gay and warm-hearted to be capable of the calculation with which Magelone accredited him. Johanna told herself that she had been wrong to delay sending him the letter for which he had begged her, and she resolved to write to him to-day.