CHAPTER III.
"OUT OF THE WORLD, AND OUT IN THE WORLD."
The first feeling was surprise, the second, quiet confidence, as theeyes of the Professorin and Manna met; each found the other differentfrom the preconceived image.
Manna remembered Eric's tall figure, and his resemblance to the pictureof St. Anthony, and before her stood a short, fair, gray-haired woman.Frau Dournay had pictured to herself Roland's handsome sister as likehim, and now she saw a slender, delicate creature, who, at first sight,gave no impression of beauty. A mole on her left cheek, and one on theright side of her upper lip, were quite conspicuous; her complexion wasrather dark, and her wonderful brown eyes glowed with deep and quietwarmth upon every one who looked into them.
Manna bowed ceremoniously to the Professorin, who rose and held out herhand with maternal kindness, saying that she was very glad to becomeacquainted with the daughter of her host, while paying a visit to herfriend, the Superior; and she added, with special emphasis, that shehad been so fortunate as to become quite intimate with Manna's mother.
"Is my mother well?" asked Manna, with a sweet tone of warmth in herlow and quiet voice. The Professorin told her of her mother's health,and added that the doctor said he had never known her so constantlycheerful as now.
"Now, I have a request to make," she continued in an animated tone;"since I have had the good fortune to be your parents' guest, I haveinsisted that the daily course of your brother's studies should not bein the least interfered with, and now let me beg you, my dear younglady, to go on with your usual occupations. I shall have the pleasureof dining with you, and after dinner, I shall be very glad if you willspare me a quarter of an hour."
"If you have any private message for Manna," said the Superior, "I willleave you together."
"I have not any private message."
Manna gave the Professorin her hand, and left the room. She did notknow what to make of it all; why had she been summoned when there wasso little to be said to her? It offended her a little to be so pushedabout by a stranger--for the lady was a stranger. But as she walkedthrough the long passage, she still saw before her the sincere andgentle countenance of the stranger, smiling at her as if saying, Youare a strange child!
Manna returned thoughtfully to her cell; she looked out of the windowand saw Pranken just entering a boat with his horse, and he was soon onthe opposite shore.
"Ah, Herr von Pranken!" cried a loud voice, and the echo repeated thesound.
What voice was that?
Pranken hurried up the bank and vanished behind the willows.
Manna longed for the time when the world would be shut out from her,and no more unrest could come over her, for now she was deeplydisturbed. There was Pranken; here, the tutor's mother--what did it allmean? She took her book of devotions, but could not succeed in drawingher thoughts from the subjects which occupied them.
In the mean time, the Professorin was listening to the Superior'saccount of Manna's strange nature, which seemed really to hold twonatures within it, one, humble and submissive, almost without a will ofits own; the other, struggling, defiant, and self-willed. She had atrue, earnest character, too serious, perhaps, for a girl of seventeen;she was often unable to, hold her feelings under control, but who couldalways do that at her age? A weight lay on her spirits which wasuncontrollable; it plainly had its source in the child's keen sense ofthe discord between her parents and its influence upon herself. TheSuperior asked Frau Dournay to tell her more of the characteristicpeculiarities of the parents, but she evaded the subject.
The appearance, as well as the bearing, of the two ladies offered asharp contrast. The Professorin's figure was full, and in her facethere was a constant expression of wide-awake animation; her hands wereround and plump; the Superior was tall and thin, her expression severeand earnest, as if just a moment before she had given some positiveorder, or was on the point of giving one; her hands were long andperfectly shaped. Both women had experienced hard trials: theProfessorin had won a gentle, smiling content; the Superior, a completepreparation to meet all events with firm and stoical endurance.
The first greeting between these early friends, after nearly thirtyyears of separation, had been a strange one, the Superior not hearing,or seeming not to hear, that Frau Dournay addressed her just as she hadin the old days.
"I did not think I should ever see you again in this world," she hadsaid directly, and when the Professorin tried to recall reminiscencesof their youth, she had replied that she knew the past no longer; shehad destroyed all its mementoes, and recognized only a future, the soleobject that ought to occupy our thoughts.
The Superior noticed that this distant manner of speaking startled herold friend, and she said, with the same composure, that she made nodistinction among the relations and acquaintances of her early life; noone was nearer to her or farther from her, and that any one who couldnot attain this state ought not to devote herself to a spiritual life.
The Professorin felt as if she had been turned off and shown out of thehouse, but she was calm enough to say:--
"Yes, you always had a strength of mind which used to frighten me, butnow I admire it."
The Superior smiled; then, as if angry at having been betrayed into anyself-satisfaction by this civil speech, she said,--
"Dear Clara, I beg you not to tempt me into vanity. I stand at my post,and have a strict watch to keep, until the Lord of Hosts shall call meto himself. Formerly, I must confess, I did not realize that you and Ilived in different worlds; in mine, it is one's duty not to rely onone's own strength."
With all this self-denial, it seemed to the Professorin that theSuperior spoke of the power and the greatness of the sphere inwhich she moved, with that pride, or at least with that loftyself-confidence, shown by all who belong to a great and powerfulcommunity. To the Superior, on the other hand, she seemed like anisolated, detached atom, floating it knew not whither.
They soon found, however, a point on which they could sympathize, inspeaking of the difficult task of educating the young.
The Superior was rich in experience, while the Professorin dependedalmost entirely on the precepts and opinions of her departed husband;and now that she took the attitude of a scholar, and listenedgratefully, gentler thoughts rose within the Superior, who had feltthat she had been somewhat harsh towards the excellent woman; and inthis mood, she imparted some things that she really meant to hold back.She told Frau Dournay that, at first, Manna's position in the conventhad been a very hard one, for a strange thing had happened. Herentrance into the convent seemed to bring about a revolution. TwoAmericans from the best families were then there, and they were notwilling to sit at the same table with the Creole, for such Mannaseemed; they told their fellow-pupils that, in their native country,such half-bloods always travelled in separate cars on the railroads,and, even in church, had places set apart for them. And as most of thechildren were from noble German families, they united in a protestagainst Manna's presence, without her knowing anything of it herself.While she slept, three of the pupils had examined her nails, in thepresence of a nun, and as no black spots were found on them, it wasproved that both parents were of pure blood. Manna was tolerated, andsoon succeeded in winning the blue ribbon by her quick mind and greatindustry.
The Professorin held back the words which rose to her lips, for she wasresolved to keep quiet and arouse no discussion; but her lips trembledas she longed to tell the Superior that it was her duty to have shownthe children, by precept and example, that there can be no distinctionof blood before God, and that such exclusiveness was impious andbarbarous.
Frau Dournay had to exercise still more self-control when the Superiorasked her to be kind enough to fold her hands when grace was said atdinner. The color flushed into her face, as she listened, andanswered,--
"My husband is gone to his eternal home, and I know that when he standsbefore the judgment-seat the Holy Spirit will say to him: Thou hastlived according to t
he purest convictions of thy soul; thou hasthonestly examined thyself, and hast attempted and done only what thoucouldst do in all sincerity. At our table, we had no formal prayer, butbefore we sat down to eat and drink, each of us spent a minute insilent self-communion, and in the thought of what it really is to renewour existence from the Fountain of life; and our meal was consecratedby pure and good thoughts."
"Well, well, I did not mean to wound you," said the Superior. "I heardwith sympathy that you had lost your husband, for whose sake yousacrificed yourself so nobly and gladly."
"I was happy with my husband," replied the Professorin; "our love grewstronger every day. But love for a lover or a husband is always dwelton; there is another kind of love, which, though very different, iswonderfully fresh and noble, and I think I know it. Forgive me forsaying it, but I mean that it seems as if love only rightly begins whenone has a high-minded, excellent son."
"I am glad that you are so happy; but tell me sincerely whether youhave not found that of ten married women, nine, at least, are unhappy."
The Professorin was silent, and the Superior continued,--
"Your silence is assent, and now look at the great difference; among ahundred nuns you find scarcely one unhappy one."
Frau Dournay was still silent; she did not wish to debate thisassertion: she was a guest, and would not try to convert or correct;but the Superior seemed to try to draw her out as she asked,--
"Do you know a more unhappy position than that of a girl who knowsherself, and whom others know, to be the heiress of millions? Is she tobelieve in the love of frail human creatures? Is she to believe thatshe is wooed for her own sake? There is nothing for her, but to giveherself and her wealth into the hands of the Eternal. This I say toyou--I know not what commission you have, and even if you have none,you can report it. We do not try to gain Manna and her future wealth,we insist that she shall go back into the world, and return to us onlyon her own free decision. There is neither compulsion nor intimidationon our part, but it is our duty to protect those who prefer theimperishable to the perishable, wherever they may be. Now you know all,and we will say no more on the subject."
The Superior left her, and Frau Dournay walked out alone upon theisland. It seemed to her that it would be a bold act, one ofunjustifiable rashness indeed, to take this child by force, even theforce of affection, from this sphere where she lived at peace andwished to end her life. She stood on the shore, and almost withoutknowing why, allowed herself to be taken across to the main-land, whereshe was not a little astonished to find Herr Sonnenkamp and Herr vonPranken, taking wine together, under the shady lindens of the inn.
Pranken was dressed so strangely that she thought she was mistaken, andshe was about to turn back; but she heard her name called, andapproached the two men in the garden.
Sonnenkamp was in high spirits, declaring himself very fortunate tohave met his friend Pranken here; he considered it a fine thing thatthe Baron had changed himself into a husbandman, hinting that hehimself had once been something of the kind; then he said,--
"We have no secrets from our friend, will Manna go home with us, FrauProfessorin?"
The Professorin replied that not a word had been said on the subject,and that it seemed hardly to be wished; it would be well to let Mannacomplete her time at the convent, and certainly to refrain from allcompulsion.
Pranken agreed very emphatically, but Sonnenkamp was much put out; itseemed to him dreadful that his daughter should be living here in themidst of a crowd of other girls, when a free and happy life was waitingfor her.
The noon-day bell rang from the Convent, and Frau Dournay said she mustgo back. Sonnenkamp accompanied her to the shore, and there said in alow voice:--
"Do not trouble yourself about Pranken. We will leave my daughter freein every respect."
The Professorin returned to the island; the children were already attable when she entered the dining-room; she stood with folded handsbehind her chair for a few moments before seating herself. When dinnerwas over, and thanks had been returned, the Superior said to Manna,--
"Now go with the friend of your family."
Frau Dournay and Manna walked towards the shady grove on the upper endof the island; and Heimchen, who was quite confiding towards theProfessorin, went with them; but she was quite willing to sit down witha book, under a tree, and wait till they came back for her.
"But you must not take Manna away with you," cried the child from herlow seat; they both started, for the child had given utterance, from aninstinctive feeling, to the fear of one and the hope of the other.
Das landhaus am Rhein. English Page 106