CHAPTER XVI.
ABOUT ANOTHER AND FOR ANOTHER.
The Doctor kept close watch upon the behavior of the girls, andlistened to their conversation. Manna expressed her thanks for herfriend's kind attention, but preserved all the while in her manner acertain reserve, an indescribable something, the result of that life inthe convent which to Lina had been productive of nothing but anacquaintance with foreign languages.
The Doctor afterwards expressed to the Professorin, as they werewalking back and forth together in the garden, great curiosity to knowwhether worldly wisdom would succeed in triumphing over the influenceof the Church, and also his regret that she herself was not a Catholic,as in that case her task would be much easier. But the lady remainedfirm in her decision to exert no influence whatever on Manna; she wasnot only not required by her duty to do so, but would actually have noright, Manna being betrothed to Pranken.
"Who knows?" replied the Doctor, "who knows? The Huguenots not onlywent into exile themselves; their example made others emigrate: andoften our influence is greatest when it is quite unintentional."
Sonnenkamp wished Lina to spend some of these Spring weeks with hisdaughter, and Manna had no alternative but to second the invitation.Lina accepted, on condition of obtaining her parents' consent, andreturned with the Doctor to be sent for the next day.
Pranken, who remained through the evening, was rejoiced at Manna'sconfiding to him that she had already painfully experienced the world'stemptation to want of truthfulness; for that, to speak with perfectcandor, she did not desire a visit from Lina, and yet she had beenobliged to request it; that she thought was the great sin of the world,that it makes us false to ourselves.
Pranken hoped that Lina's visit would have an enlivening effect uponManna; to begin with, however, he wanted to find out how she liked theProfessorin. In approaching the subject he so carefully worded hisremarks that if Manna should speak with enthusiasm he could fall inwith it, and the same if she expressed dislike.
Manna repressed the confession that rose to her lips, that she feltherself already bewildered by the confusion that prevailed in thehouse, and longed for the well-ordered quiet of the convent, and merelycomplained of feeling so unlike herself in the world. But, when Prankenthanked her for this confidence, she recoiled and said, scarce aboveher breath, that the world made people talkative even when they wishedto be reserved.
"I am glad to hear you speak of reserve," resumed Pranken, after apause; "for our Archbishop enjoined it upon me lately in those verywords. 'Be reserved,' he said; 'persons who speak much and readily areat bottom nothing but dilettanti.'"
He thought Manna would perceive at once that he was referring to Eric,but, as she gave no sign of applying the charge of dilettantism to him,Pranken spoke more openly and said:--
"Do you not perceive something of the dilettante in the very talkativeHerr Eric?"
Manna answered shortly:--
"The man talks much, but----"
Here she made a long pause, and Pranken was in great suspense,wondering how she would finish her sentence.
"He talks much," she said, "but he thinks much too."
Pranken cast about for some turn he could give the conversation, which,with a skilful aim, could not fail to hit the mark. He might havespared himself his great pains, for a man whose activities extendedover so much ground as Eric's offered many points of attack.
Pranken began by declaring Eric to be a kind of Don Quixote, a man whowas always adventuring after great ideas, as in the case of theexaggerated sentiment of his toast. Disguising the cutting nature ofhis remarks under cover of gentle words, he attempted to turn Eric intoridicule. He thought it presumption in him, in the first place, to layclaim to any inward consecration as a cloak for his profanities, andfinally went so far as to accuse him of passing off counterfeit coin,in the hope of deceiving a childlike, confiding mind. He looked keenlyat Manna as he spoke, but she kept silence.
"Be on your guard," he added, "he plays the model man everywhere."
The expression seemed to please Pranken so well, that he ventured torepeat it.
"This playing the model man is very cunning, but we can see through it.You have no idea how much trouble this pattern of pedagogues, this HerrDournay, has given us. You must be on your guard; his every word isstamped with the conviction, that he unites in his own person allpossible examples of virtue."
Encouraged by a smile on Manna's face, which she tried in vain tosuppress, Pranken continued:--
"After all, his eloquence is only that of the hairdresser, who talks ofall kinds of things while he is curling your hair, only without settingup for so much scientific and religious aplomb. Observe how often heuses the word humanity; I counted it fourteen times, once, in a singlehour. He affects great modesty, but his conceit actually exceeds allbounds."
Pranken laughed, knowing how easy it is to throw ridicule upon a man inthe full tide of enthusiastic action; and with pleasure he perceivedthat his words were not without influence on Manna. If you can once seta man in a ridiculous light, there is no salvation for him. This,Pranken knew and hoped to accomplish in the present case; he, however,went on to say:--
"Our Roland has learned a great deal under this honorable gentleman,but he has had enough of him now; it is time he entered upon a widersphere."
Manna preserved her thoughtful silence, and soon after walked away,occasionally, as she went towards the villa, nodding to herself as ifassenting to what she had heard. Pranken looked after her inperplexity.
On the steps she met Eric, and both stopped. Eric felt obliged to saysomething, and therefore began,--
"I can imagine its being hard for you to have your first day at home afete day; it will, perhaps, make the days that follow seem dull."
"How should you know what is passing in my thoughts?" replied Manna, asshe went on up the steps.
She was indignant with the man for forgetting his position in thehouse, and taking upon himself to tell what was passing in her mind.What right had he to put into words what she did not choose to express?As she went up the steps, she pressed together in anger the lips whichhad spoken such cruel words; she was angry with herself too. But thewords had been said, and could not be unsaid.
She spent the whole evening in her room. At a late hour Roland knockedat the door, and insisted on being admitted.
"Ah, sister," he said, as he sat down beside her, "of all I have beenthrough to-day, one thing haunts me. Everybody to whom I gave a presentsaid he would pray for me. How is that possible, and what good would itdo? What good would it do to have another person pray for me, and sayof me and wish for me before God all sorts of good things? Of what usewould it be, if I were not in my own soul good and noble? No man canpray for another."
"Roland, what are you saying? What are you thinking of?" cried Manna,seizing him by both arms and shaking him; then, leaving the boystanding in amazement, she hurried into her chamber and threw herselfupon her knees.
On this first day at home the ruin of her house was revealed to her.She prayed for Roland, that his mind might be enlightened and deliveredfrom bondage, and even while she prayed, a feeling of strangeness stoleover her. She wrung her hands, she groaned, she wept. Is it true thatno one can stand in the place of another, can sacrifice himself foranother? No, it is not,--it cannot be. She felt herself burdened, as byan actual weight from heaven, at the stirring of this great question,this great anxiety within her. Can a human being, then, do more harmthan good to another? Is it so? Must it be so? There was a violentstruggle in her soul; at last she smiled; a great conflict is appointedfor me, she thought, and it is already beginning. She was to save thesoul of her brother, and this, she told herself, could not be done byviolence, but only by gentleness and humility.
She rose, and returning to the room where she had left Roland, held outher hand to him.
"I see," she said, "you are my grown-up brother; we must help oneanother to become better. We have muc
h to give and to take from eachother; that will come of itself."
She sat down quietly beside him, and held his hand tightly clasped inhers.
"How pleasant it must seem to you to be at home again!" exclaimedRoland. "The convent is no home for any one."
"For that very reason it is the best," returned Manna. "Every day,every hour reminds us that we have no home in this world; that ourwhole life is but a pilgrimage. If this world were our home, we shouldboth have, you and I--no. You too tempt me to say, what I should not."
"Eric is right," said Roland. "He says you are truly pious; whatmillions speak only with their lips, you utter from your heart."
"Did Eric say that?"
"Yes, and much more."
"But, Roland," interrupted Manna, "you should, never tell what oneperson says of another."
"Not if it is good?"
"Not even then. We cannot tell on that very account--no," sheinterrupted herself; "are you not very happy in having so true a friendin Eric?"
"Indeed I am; and do you not like him better than Pranken?"
A smile rose to Manna's lips, but she repressed it and said,--
"Your teacher should also teach you never to make comparisons. But now,dear brother, remember that I have come from a convent, and need to bemuch alone. Good-night!" she added, kissing him.
"Remember," he called back to her as he departed, "that you must takeyour two dogs with you when you go to walk."
Manna was even yet not allowed to be alone. In the convent she had hadno one to wait upon her, but here her father insisted on her having amaid to undress her.
The woman praised her beautiful black hair as she let it down.
"Ah, my Fraeulein, you have what is so rare in these days, good, healthyhair. Would you believe, Fraeulein, that almost all the hair we see onladies' heads is false or padded? they wear a hat hidden under theirhair."
And yet, thought Manna, this hair will fall. A sudden terror shotthrough her, as the maid passed her fingers through the loosened hair;she fancied that she already heard the clipping of the scissors.
At last Manna was alone. After devoting herself for some time tomeditation and prayer, she began a letter to the Superior.
"We have celebrated to-day my birthday and my return to my parents'house; but I long for my own birthday, which shall be my entrance intothe home of my Eternal Father--"
BOOK X.
Das landhaus am Rhein. English Page 131