Part 21 (1/2)

Hannah von Gropphusen, however, was smiling once more; though in sooth on her pallid countenance the smile had something of a ghastly look.

”No, no, Frau Klare,” she a.s.sured her; ”I am better alone.”

Once more saying, ”Forgive me, won't you?” she departed.

Guntz meanwhile had not been able to quiet the little screamer, and was glad enough when Klare took the child from him.

”What is the matter with her?” he asked.

Klare shrugged her shoulders. ”She did not tell me; perhaps she could not. The trouble may be too profound, too terrible.”

”You have left her alone?”

”She has gone.”

The senior-lieutenant looked out of window. His wife, with the baby in her arms, came and stood beside him.

”See!” he cried. ”There she goes! Young, beautiful, rich, fas.h.i.+onable--has she not everything to make her happy?” And shaking his head he added, ”Poor, poor woman!”

He vowed to himself not to make depreciatory remarks about the Gropphusen in the future. One thing, however, he felt he must impress on his wife: ”Look here, Klare,” he cautioned her, ”you won't let her hold the boy often, will you?”

With the returning spring Hannah von Gropphusen seemed to awaken from her depression. She had one great pa.s.sion, to which she eagerly resorted as soon as the days became fit for it: this was tennis.

In their small garrison she had no real match; the only person who came anywhere near her was Reimers. He had, of course, been absent from the tennis club for a whole year, and she was all the more delighted at the approach of fine weather.

Frau von Gropphusen and Reimers were always the last to leave the ground, when the b.a.l.l.s were often hardly discernible in the gathering twilight. She soon found that her opponent had, during his absence, come on very much in his play. At Cairo he had played with English people, acknowledged masters of the game; whilst she herself, through playing with indifferent performers, had lost much of her former facility; so now they were well matched.

Feeling this, Reimers played more easily and surely than of old, and consequently had greater leisure to remark what he had formerly been indifferent to--the beauty and grace of his opponent.

Meeting her during the winter in society, when she was as though bowed down by her secret sorrow, and took little part in the gay life around her, he had thought her looking older. But now, in the budding springtime, in the warm suns.h.i.+ne, animated by the game, she seemed to have bathed in the fountain of youth.

Her tennis costume--with which, of course, she wore no corset, but only a narrow belt--was very becoming: a light blouse, a mouse-coloured skirt, close fitting over the hips and not reaching to her ankles, grey silk stockings, and white suede shoes guiltless of heels.

The ladies of the regiment p.r.o.nounced this attire ”indecent”; though not one of them would have hesitated to dress similarly, if it had suited her as well as it did Frau von Gropphusen.

Frau Kauerhof (_nee_ von Luben) had indeed once attempted to appear in a like toilet, only her skirt was navy-blue. It was difficult to say wherein the difference consisted,--perhaps her skirt was a little longer than the other's,--but the whole effect was not so successful.

And yet Frau Kauerhof was a pretty creature enough; not exactly slim, but rather of a blonde plumpness, and this was somewhat noticeable in her loose s.h.i.+rt. The glances of the young lieutenants dwelt rather insistently thereon. They were also able to make another interesting discovery. Frau Kauerhof's calves began immediately above her ankles.

They were very fat calves.

Furthermore, Frau Kauerhof's white shoes advertised the fact that her feet were enormous. This the ladies decided with absolute unanimity; and they begged Frau Wegstetten, the highest in rank among the women tennis-players, to give her a hint.

That lady shrank from the commission. It was unpleasant to offend one whose papa was in the Ministry of War; and the situation might therefore have continued, perhaps to the satisfaction of the younger officers, if a fortunate chance had not brought Kauerhof himself to the tennis-ground.

He escorted his wife chivalrously home, and led her, without a word, to the mirror.

Her starched s.h.i.+rt was crumpled, and wet through with perspiration, also her shoes were trodden all out of shape.

”Dear Marion,” he said, ”I have no objection to your going to b.a.l.l.s as _decolletee_ as ever you please, for you are beautiful ...” and he kissed her neck; ”but I do beg you not to exhibit yourself like this again.”