Part 29 (1/2)
”Say to her Highness that I am truly grateful to her, and that I will wait upon her to-morrow at the time appointed.”
”Her Highness will be very glad. Farewell.”
”Excuse me, Fraulein; one question more: is your name Roschen?”
A deep blush suffused the lovely face. ”Yes.”
Cornelia, deeply moved, went up to her, took her hands, and pressed a kiss upon her fresh lips. ”We have known each other a long time, have we not?”
Roschen was surprised and greatly agitated. ”Yes, yes!” she exclaimed, pressing Cornelia's hand to her lips. ”Let me thank you for all you have done for Albert. We can never repay you for it; but the dear G.o.d will know how to reward you.”
Cornelia gazed into her eyes for a long time with ever-increasing interest. ”You ought to have become Albert's wife: the poor fellow has suffered so much for your sake.”
”I cannot leave the princess, and besides,”--Roschen hesitated a little,--”besides, he did not wish it so very much. Ah, I understand it now: he who has once seen you can never love another.”
”Oh, my dear girl, what are you saying? You will be reconciled to each other again, or I shall regret what I did for Albert.” She glanced anxiously at the clock; for it was almost the hour when Ottmar might be expected.
This did not escape Roschen's natural delicacy of feeling. ”I am detaining you, dear Fraulein, and the princess is waiting. Farewell!
your kindness has made me very happy.”
”Will you not come again, that we may continue our talk?”
”With the greatest pleasure. But there is one thing more I had almost forgotten: the princess begs you to tell no one that you have been requested to come to her. She will refuse all visitors to-morrow on the plea of indisposition, and fears people might take it amiss if she----”
”I understand,” interrupted Cornelia, ”and will say nothing.”
After Roschen had gone she stood for a long time absorbed in thought.
The solution of this enigma could not be guessed. She rejoiced over the strange event, for she had loved Ottilie ever since she knew her relations with Ottmar; yet it grieved her to think that she would perceive at every breath a happiness denied the princess. Suppose her eyes should rest upon Cornelia with sorrowful jealousy as her fortunate rival.
The following day and the appointed hour came. In great agitation, and not without a little timidity at the idea of the grandeur that surrounded Ottilie, Cornelia entered the magnificent apartments of the princess. The groom of the chambers conducted her through a long succession of rooms. At last he paused, pointed to a half-open gla.s.s door, and disappeared. The silken portieres were drawn aside, and Ottilie stood before Cornelia!
A long pause followed. Both looked at each other in breathless suspense. Ottilie was paler than ever; Cornelia deeply flushed. At last Ottilie gently took her hand and murmured almost inaudibly, with a sort of sorrowful satisfaction, ”Yes; so my fancy pictured you! So you must be.”
”Your Highness bestows upon me so great a favor that I seek in vain for words to express my joyful surprise and grat.i.tude.”
”There can be no question of grat.i.tude here; but no doubt you were surprised that I should request you to visit me.” Ottilie seated herself, and drew Cornelia down upon the sofa beside her. ”I have a great and important matter to intrust to you, Fraulein, and believe I can read in your eyes, an your lofty brow, the certainty that I have applied to the right person.” Cornelia looked at Ottilie in eager expectation. After a short pause, the latter continued: ”Accident, Fraulein, or rather destiny, made me acquainted with your labors among the prisoners. I perceived with admiration how you had aimed at results which the wisest provisions of the law could not attain; how you were the first to strew over the lifeless forms of punishment the living germs from which sprang new life, remorse, and amendment. You will believe me when I say that no mere idle curiosity, but heartfelt sympathy, impelled me to make the acquaintance of so remarkable a character. I will even confess that I trembled lest I should find your person did not harmonize with the ideal I had formed.” She paused, and once more gazed long and earnestly into Cornelia's eyes; then bent towards her and pressed a kiss upon her brow. ”Thank G.o.d that I now dare love you in reality, as I have already done in fancy!”
”Your Highness,” began Cornelia, deeply moved as she sought for words, while her bosom rose and fell more rapidly, ”I know I do not deserve what you say; and yet a blissful content, for which I can find no expression, overflows my whole nature. You see me in the light that streams from yourself; but its rays fall upon my soul also, and wake their concealed powers of good, which fill me with pride,--not for what I have done, but for what I shall accomplish. G.o.d knows I performed these works of mercy without any desire or hope of recognition. I have long supposed I labored wholly un.o.bserved; but there is so great a recompense in this moment that it would crown the toil of a whole life; and I will struggle all my life to deserve it.”
”You are enthusiastic, my child; but this very enthusiasm makes you what you are; so I will accept the flattery contained in your words as the tribute every n.o.ble soul offers to the ideal towards which we all strive.”
”Oh, not as that alone, your Highness! Deign to accept the childlike, humble reverence of a heart which has long looked up to you as the n.o.blest of women. I know not whether I ought to express in words what has been hovering upon my lips ever since the first moment of our meeting. It might, perhaps, be a great offense against etiquette, but I hope your Highness will regard the essence rather than the form.”
”I hope you will do me the honor to be a.s.sured of it,” interposed Ottilie, with a smile.
”Well, then, permit me to tell your Highness that I have long loved you with my whole heart.”
”If that is true, my child, I rejoice to hear it. Love is a voluntary gift, which, whether deserved or not, we are always permitted to receive. I thank you for it; yes, I thank you from the inmost depths of a lonely heart.”
”Ah, if you were not a princess!” murmured Cornelia, involuntarily.
”My dear child, how often I have said that myself! G.o.d has placed me in this position only to test my strength; for that which compensates others in a similar station for their secret lack of happiness--delight in splendor and grandeur, sovereignty and renown--is denied me. Nothing has any charm for me; my joys are rooted solely in the heart; and even these are sparingly meted out. The gulf which severs the princess from her subjects does not exist in my soul, and cannot separate my affection from them. I love men, respect their rights, admire their works, and thus stand ever alone upon my lofty height, consumed with vain longings, and stretching out my arms across the abyss which yawns between me and the warm hearts of humanity.”