Part 29 (2/2)

Even Johanna was surprised at Otto's unwearied zeal, but she could not help thinking that in his care for outward circ.u.mstances, the frame of life, he was overlooking the life itself, and his ardent tenderness could not indemnify her for the want of that congeniality of mind and thought which she had hoped for from her lover, and for which she longed daily. Otto declared that there would be time enough for philosophizing when they were settled in their Tannhagen solitude; at present it seemed to him best to discuss the alterations in the house, the laying out of the garden, the carpets, and the furniture. And since Johanna's taste differed widely from his own, which was all for the modern, the elegant, and the graceful, while she would have had her furniture in artistic harmony with her house, there was no end to discussions upon household matters, which left Otto no time for what interested Johanna more deeply.

She would not admit to herself that he lacked interest in everything save what was superficial, and after he had left her in the evening she made every effort to banish the feeling of discontent that a.s.sailed her.

She sought refuge more and more continually at her writing-table. The impression produced upon her imagination by Tannhagen at her first visit had not faded. She still in fancy saw the old house peopled with shapes upon whom, involuntarily, she bestowed the very life of her life, whom she caused to ask and answer, to love, to suffer, to hope, and to grieve, according to her own mood. And each of these phantoms had an individual existence, to which she felt forced--she knew not why--to give expression in words. She did it with mingled delight and pain. Form and colour would sometimes elude her, or the shape which she had thought stable would fade and vanish, while at other times, without the slightest effort on her part, her brain would be crowded with clear and lovely images, whose very being she could understand and interpret. What would come of all this she never asked herself. She believed that in writing she was but obeying an impulse to reveal herself absolutely to Otto. She called these outpourings of her very self 'apocryphal love-letters,' and she wrote herself to rest, as some sing themselves to sleep.

Thus the winter pa.s.sed. It was unusually stormy and severe, even for these mountains. All the more welcome to Johanna were the first spring breezes, the coming of the first birds of pa.s.sage, and the bursting of the sheaths of the first blossoms. Her rides and walks with her grandfather were not long enough. Elinor was saddled for her in the early morning, and it was sometimes hard to turn back in time for breakfast.

One morning she had started earlier than usual. The eager March air and the suns.h.i.+ne blended harmoniously. A lark poured his 'full heart' 'from heaven or near it.' With Leo barking about her, she turned her mare into the woodland path leading to the 'Forest Hermitage.'

It was long since she had seen her proteges. The Freiherr had not forbidden her to visit them, but it vexed him to hear them mentioned.

Therefore, when she crossed the forest path upon her road home from Tannhagen with her grandfather, she did not venture to turn into it. She learned from Otto, who now and then brought her a greeting from Christine, that the couple were content and happy, and she should be glad to hear this from Christine herself.

But she found an invalid. An old woman opened the door for her, with a curtsey. The young wife lay on the sofa, propped with pillows, her face pale and wan, her eyes dim, and the hand she held out to Johanna burned with fever.

”Christine, what has been the matter?” Johanna exclaimed, in dismay.

”When Herr Otto saw you a week ago he brought me such good news of you!”

Christine's eyes wore an anxious, terrified expression. ”I was taken ill just afterwards,” she answered, in a weak voice. ”But please, Fraulein, say nothing about it now: I hear Jakob coming; he is too anxious, and I am a great deal better.”

Her husband entered. Johanna was startled by his gloomy, haggard looks.

”The gracious Fruleen!” he cried, and tore off his hat.

Johanna thought she detected a shade of reproach in his tone. ”I did not know that Christine was ill, or I should have come long ago,” she said.

”Why did you not send me word? I should have been so glad to do something for her.”

”Thanks, gracious Fruleen,” he replied; ”she has wanted for nothing. The Klausenburg doctor has been here every day, and she has had plenty of medicine,--there, little one, is a fresh bottleful,--and she shall have whatever she wants to eat and drink, if I have to run miles for it.” He laughed, and ran his fingers through his bushy red hair, so that it stood out all over his head.

Christine looked at him beseechingly. ”Yes, yes, Fraulein,” she said, ”he has tended me as if I were a princess. He is on his feet day and night.”

”That's the part you tell!” he interrupted her; ”but that it is all my fault----”

”Jakob, what did you promise me?” the sick woman implored him, lifting her clasped hands.

”That I would not speak evil of any one,” he answered, gloomily, ”and I won't. But I may tell of what I have done myself. Yes, gracious Fruleen, it is my fault, the fault of my bad temper, that the poor little thing is lying there, disappointed of her pleasure in soon having a child again. And when I see her, as patient as a lamb----But if she dies----”

He raised his sound arm and shook his clinched fist. ”If she dies----G.o.d in heaven!”

With this cry he sank back into a chair, covered his face with his hands, and sobbed aloud.

Christine half arose. ”Let me! let me!” she begged, trying to resist Johanna's efforts to detain her.

”See now, I always do her harm,” he said, gently putting her back among the pillows. ”Be good, child, and reasonable for both of us. I cannot be, for I have nothing but you; and whoever takes you from me, whether it be a man or G.o.d Almighty----”

She pressed her hand upon his lips. ”Hush, hus.h.!.+” she said, ”do not blaspheme. I am better. We shall stay with each other for a while yet.

Let us pray for it; try to, for my sake.”

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