IN A GERMAN PENSION

By Katherine Mansfield

Contents. 

 1. Germans at Meat. 2. The Baron. 3. The Sister of the Baroness. 4. Frau Fischer. 5. Frau Brechenmacher attends a Wedding. 6. The Modern Soul. 7. At Lehmann's. 8. The Luft Bad. 9. A Birthday. 10. The Child-Who-Was-Tired. 11. The Advanced Lady. 12. The Swing of the Pendulum. 13. A Blaze. 

1. GERMANS AT MEAT. 

Bread soup was placed upon the table. "Ah, " said the Herr Rat, leaningupon the table as he peered into the tureen, "that is what I need. My'magen' has not been in order for several days. Bread soup, and just theright consistency. I am a good cook myself"--he turned to me. 

"How interesting, " I said, attempting to infuse just the right amount ofenthusiasm into my voice. 

"Oh yes--when one is not married it is necessary. As for me, I have hadall I wanted from women without marriage. " He tucked his napkin into hiscollar and blew upon his soup as he spoke. "Now at nine o'clock I makemyself an English breakfast, but not much. Four slices of bread, twoeggs, two slices of cold ham, one plate of soup, two cups of tea--thatis nothing to you. "

He asserted the fact so vehemently that I had not the courage to refuteit. 

All eyes were suddenly turned upon me. I felt I was bearing the burdenof the nation's preposterous breakfast--I who drank a cup of coffeewhile buttoning my blouse in the morning. 

"Nothing at all, " cried Herr Hoffmann from Berlin. "Ach, when I was inEngland in the morning I used to eat. "

He turned up his eyes and his moustache, wiping the soup drippings fromhis coat and waistcoat. 

"Do they really eat so much?" asked Fraulein Stiegelauer. "Soup andbaker's bread and pig's flesh, and tea and coffee and stewed fruit, andhoney and eggs, and cold fish and kidneys, and hot fish and liver? Allthe ladies eat, too, especially the ladies. "

"Certainly. I myself have noticed it, when I was living in a hotel inLeicester Square, " cried the Herr Rat. "It was a good hotel, but theycould not make tea--now--"

"Ah, that's one thing I CAN do, " said I, laughing brightly. "I can makevery good tea. The great secret is to warm the teapot. "

"Warm the teapot, " interrupted the Herr Rat, pushing away his soupplate. "What do you warm the teapot for? Ha! ha! that's very good! Onedoes not eat the teapot, I suppose?"

He fixed his cold blue eyes upon me with an expression which suggested athousand premeditated invasions. 

"So that is the great secret of your English tea? All you do is to warmthe teapot. "

I wanted to say that was only the preliminary canter, but could nottranslate it, and so was silent. 

The servant brought in veal, with sauerkraut and potatoes. 

"I eat sauerkraut with great pleasure, " said the Traveller from NorthGermany, "but now I have eaten so much of it that I cannot retain it. Iam immediately forced to--"

"A beautiful day, " I cried, turning to Fraulein Stiegelauer. "Did youget up early?"

"At five o'clock I walked for ten minutes in the wet grass. Again inbed. At half-past five I fell asleep, and woke at seven, when I made an'overbody' washing! Again in bed. At eight o'clock I had a cold-waterpoultice, and at half past eight I drank a cup of mint tea. At nine Idrank some malt coffee, and began my 'cure. ' Pass me the sauerkraut, please. You do not eat it?"

"No, thank you. I still find it a little strong. "

"Is it true, " asked the Widow, picking her teeth with a hairpin as shespoke, "that you are a vegetarian?"

"Why, yes; I have not eaten meat for three years. "

"Im--possible! Have you any family?"

"No. "

"There now, you see, that's what you're coming to! Who ever heard ofhaving children upon vegetables? It is not possible. But you never havelarge families in England now; I suppose you are too busy with yoursuffragetting. Now I have had nine children, and they are all alive, thank God. Fine, healthy babies--though after the first one was born Ihad to--"

"How WONDERFUL!" I cried. 

"Wonderful, " said the Widow contemptuously, replacing the hairpin in theknob which was balanced on the top of her head. "Not at all! A friendof mine had four at the same time. Her husband was so pleased he gavea supper-party and had them placed on the table. Of course she was veryproud. "

"Germany, " boomed the Traveller, biting round a potato which he hadspeared with his knife, "is the home of the Family. "

Followed an appreciative silence. 

The dishes were changed for beef, red currants and spinach. They wipedtheir forks upon black bread and started again. 

"How long are you remaining here?" asked the Herr Rat. 

"I do not know exactly. I must be back in London in September. "

"Of course you will visit Munchen?"

"I am afraid I shall not have time. You see, it is important not tobreak into my 'cure. '"

"But you MUST go to Munchen. You have not seen Germany if you havenot been to Munchen. All the Exhibitions, all the Art and Soul lifeof Germany are in Munchen. There is the Wagner Festival in August, andMozart and a Japanese collection of pictures--and there is the beer! Youdo not know what good beer is until you have been to Munchen. Why, Isee fine ladies every afternoon, but fine ladies, I tell you, drinkingglasses so high. " He measured a good washstand pitcher in height, and Ismiled. 

"If I drink a great deal of Munchen beer I sweat so, " said HerrHoffmann. "When I am here, in the fields or before my baths, I sweat, but I enjoy it; but in the town it is not at all the same thing. "

Prompted by the thought, he wiped his neck and face with his dinnernapkin and carefully cleaned his ears. 

A glass dish of stewed apricots was placed upon the table. 

"Ah, fruit!" said Fraulein Stiegelauer, "that is so necessary to health. The doctor told me this morning that the more fruit I could eat thebetter. "

She very obviously followed the advice. 

Said the Traveller: "I suppose you are frightened of an invasion, too, eh? Oh, that's good. I've been reading all about your English play in anewspaper. Did you see it?"

"Yes. " I sat upright. "I assure you we are not afraid. "

"Well, then, you ought to be, " said the Herr Rat. "You have got no armyat all--a few little boys with their veins full of nicotine poisoning. "

"Don't be afraid, " Herr Hoffmann said. "We don't want England. If we didwe would have had her long ago. We really do not want you. "

He waved his spoon airily, looking across at me as though I were alittle child whom he would keep or dismiss as he pleased. 

"We certainly do not want Germany, " I said. 

"This morning I took a half bath. Then this afternoon I must take a kneebath and an arm bath, " volunteered the Herr Rat; "then I do my exercisesfor an hour, and my work is over. A glass of wine and a couple of rollswith some sardines--"

They were handed cherry cake with whipped cream. 

"What is your husband's favourite meat?" asked the Widow. 

"I really do not know, " I answered. 

"You really do not know? How long have you been married?"

"Three years. "

"But you cannot be in earnest! You would not have kept house as his wifefor a week without knowing that fact. "

"I really never asked him; he is not at all particular about his food. "

A pause. They all looked at me, shaking their heads, their mouths fullof cherry stones. 

"No wonder there is a repetition in England of that dreadful state ofthings in Paris, " said the Widow, folding her dinner napkin. "How can awoman expect to keep her husband if she does not know his favourite foodafter three years?"

"Mahlzeit!"

"Mahlzeit!"

I closed the door after me. 

2. THE BARON. 

"Who is he?" I said. "And why does he sit always alone, with his back tous, too?"

"Ah!" whispered the Frau Oberregierungsrat, "he is a BARON. "

She looked at me very solemnly, and yet with the slightest possiblecontempt--a "fancy-not-recognising-that-at-the-first-glance" expression. 

"But, poor soul, he cannot help it, " I said. "Surely that unfortunatefact ought not to debar him from the pleasures of intellectualintercourse. "

If it had not been for her fork I think she would have crossed herself. 

"Surely you cannot understand. He is one of the First Barons. "

More than a little unnerved, she turned and spoke to the Frau Doktor onher left. 

"My omelette is empty--EMPTY, " she protested, "and this is the third Ihave tried!"

I looked at the First of the Barons. He was eating salad--taking awhole lettuce leaf on his fork and absorbing it slowly, rabbit-wise--afascinating process to watch. 

Small and slight, with scanty black hair and beard and yellow-tonedcomplexion, he invariably wore black serge clothes, a rough linen shirt, black sandals, and the largest black-rimmed spectacles that I had everseen. 

The Herr Oberlehrer, who sat opposite me, smiled benignantly. 

"It must be very interesting for you, gnadige Frau, to be able towatch. .. . Of course this is a VERY FINE HOUSE. There was a lady fromthe Spanish Court here in the summer; she had a liver. We often spoketogether. "

I looked gratified and humble. 

"Now, in England, in your 'boarding 'ouse', one does not find the FirstClass, as in Germany. "

"No, indeed, " I replied, still hypnotised by the Baron, who looked likea little yellow silkworm. 

"The Baron comes every year, " went on the Herr Oberlehrer, "for hisnerves. He has never spoken to any of the guests--YET!" A smile crossedhis face. I seemed to see his visions of some splendid upheaval of thatsilence--a dazzling exchange of courtesies in a dim future, a splendidsacrifice of a newspaper to this Exalted One, a "danke schon" to behanded down to future generations. 

At that moment the postman, looking like a German army officer, came inwith the mail. He threw my letters into my milk pudding, and then turnedto a waitress and whispered. She retired hastily. The manager of thepension came in with a little tray. A picture post card was deposited onit, and reverently bowing his head, the manager of the pension carriedit to the Baron. 

Myself, I felt disappointed that there was not a salute of twenty-fiveguns. 

At the end of the meal we were served with coffee. I noticed the Barontook three lumps of sugar, putting two in his cup and wrapping up thethird in a corner of his pocket-handkerchief. He was always the firstto enter the dining-room and the last to leave; and in a vacant chairbeside him he placed a little black leather bag. 

In the afternoon, leaning from my window, I saw him pass down thestreet, walking tremulously and carrying the bag. Each time he passed alamp-post he shrank a little, as though expecting it to strike him, ormaybe the sense of plebeian contamination. .. 

I wondered where he was going, and why he carried the bag. Never had Iseen him at the Casino or the Bath Establishment. He looked forlorn, hisfeet slipped in his sandals. I found myself pitying the Baron. 

That evening a party of us were gathered in the salon discussing theday's "kur" with feverish animation. The Frau Oberregierungsrat sat byme knitting a shawl for her youngest of nine daughters, who was inthat very interesting, frail condition. .. "But it is bound to be quitesatisfactory, " she said to me. "The dear married a banker--the desire ofher life. "

There must have been eight or ten of us gathered together, we who weremarried exchanging confidences as to the underclothing and peculiarcharacteristics of our husbands, the unmarried discussing theover-clothing and peculiar fascinations of Possible Ones. 

"I knit them myself, " I heard the Frau Lehrer cry, "of thick grey wool. He wears one a month, with two soft collars. "

"And then, " whispered Fraulein Lisa, "he said to me, 'Indeed you pleaseme. I shall, perhaps, write to your mother. '"

Small wonder that we were a little violently excited, a littleexpostulatory. 

Suddenly the door opened and admitted the Baron. 

Followed a complete and deathlike silence. 

He came in slowly, hesitated, took up a toothpick from a dish on the topof the piano, and went out again. 

When the door was closed we raised a triumphant cry! It was the firsttime he had ever been known to enter the salon. Who could tell what theFuture held?

Days lengthened into weeks. Still we were together, and still thesolitary little figure, head bowed as though under the weight of thespectacles, haunted me. He entered with the black bag, he retired withthe black bag--and that was all. 

At last the manager of the pension told us the Baron was leaving thenext day. 

"Oh, " I thought, "surely he cannot drift into obscurity--be lost withoutone word! Surely he will honour the Frau Oberregierungsrat of the FrauFeldleutnantswitwe ONCE before he goes. "

In the evening of that day it rained heavily. I went to the post office, and as I stood on the steps, umbrellaless, hesitating before plunginginto the slushy road, a little, hesitating voice seemed to come fromunder my elbow. 

I looked down. It was the First of the Barons with the black bag and anumbrella. Was I mad? Was I sane? He was asking me to share thelatter. But I was exceedingly nice, a trifle diffident, appropriatelyreverential. Together we walked through the mud and slush. 

Now, there is something peculiarly intimate in sharing an umbrella. 

It is apt to put one on the same footing as brushing a man's coat forhim--a little daring, naive. 

I longed to know why he sat alone, why he carried the bag, what he didall day. But he himself volunteered some information. 

"I fear, " he said, "that my luggage will be damp. I invariably carryit with me in this bag--one requires so little--for servants areuntrustworthy. "

"A wise idea, " I answered. And then: "Why have you denied us thepleasure--"

"I sit alone that I may eat more, " said the Baron, peering intothe dusk; "my stomach requires a great deal of food. I order doubleportions, and eat them in peace. "

Which sounded finely Baronial. 

"And what do you do all day?"

"I imbibe nourishment in my room, " he replied, in a voice that closedthe conversation and almost repented of the umbrella. 

When we arrived at the pension there was very nearly an open riot. 

I ran half way up the stairs, and thanked the Baron audibly from thelanding. 

He distinctly replied: "Not at all!"

It was very friendly of the Herr Oberlehrer to have sent me a bouquetthat evening, and the Frau Oberregierungsrat asked me for my pattern ofa baby's bonnet!

*****

Next day the Baron was gone. 

Sic transit gloria German mundi. 

3. THE SISTER OF THE BARONESS. 

"There are two new guests arriving this afternoon, " said the manager ofthe pension, placing a chair for me at the breakfast table. "I haveonly received the letter acquainting me with the fact this morning. The Baroness von Gall is sending her little daughter--the poor child isdumb--to make the 'cure. ' She is to stay with us a month, and then theBaroness herself is coming. "

"Baroness von Gall, " cried the Frau Doktor, coming into the room andpositively scenting the name. "Coming here? There was a picture of heronly last week in 'Sport and Salon. ' She is a friend of the court: Ihave heard that the Kaiserin says 'du' to her. But this is delightful!I shall take my doctor's advice and spend an extra six weeks here. Thereis nothing like young society. "

"But the child is dumb, " ventured the manager apologetically. 

"Bah! What does that matter? Afflicted children have such pretty ways. "

Each guest who came into the breakfast-room was bombarded with thewonderful news. "The Baroness von Gall is sending her little daughterhere; the Baroness herself is coming in a month's time. " Coffee androlls took on the nature of an orgy. We positively scintillated. Anecdotes of the High Born were poured out, sweetened and sipped: wegorged on scandals of High Birth generously buttered. 

"They are to have the room next to yours, " said the manager, addressingme. "I was wondering if you would permit me to take down the portrait ofthe Kaiserin Elizabeth from above your bed to hang over their sofa. "

"Yes, indeed, something homelike"--the Frau Oberregierungsrat patted myhand--"and of no possible significance to you. "

I felt a little crushed. Not at the prospect of losing that vision ofdiamonds and blue velvet bust, but at the tone--placing me outside thepale--branding me as a foreigner. 

We dissipated the day in valid speculations. Decided it was too warm towalk in the afternoon, so lay down on our beds, mustering in great forcefor afternoon coffee. And a carriage drew up at the door. A tall younggirl got out, leading a child by the hand. They entered the hall, weregreeted and shown to their room. Ten minutes later she came down withthe child to sign the visitors' book. She wore a black, closely fittingdress, touched at throat and wrists with white frilling. Her brown hair, braided, was tied with a black bow--unusually pale, with a small mole onher left cheek. 

"I am the Baroness von Gall's sister, " she said, trying the pen on apiece of blotting-paper, and smiling at us deprecatingly. Even for themost jaded of us life holds its thrilling moments. Two Baronesses in twomonths! The manager immediately left the room to find a new nib. 

To my plebeian eyes that afflicted child was singularly unattractive. She had the air of having been perpetually washed with a blue bag, andhair like grey wool--dressed, too, in a pinafore so stiffly starchedthat she could only peer at us over the frill of it--a social barrier ofa pinafore--and perhaps it was too much to expect a noble aunt to attendto the menial consideration of her niece's ears. But a dumb niece withunwashed ears struck me as a most depressing object. 

They were given places at the head of the table. For a moment we alllooked at one another with an eena-deena-dina-do expression. Then theFrau Oberregierungsrat:

"I hope you are not tired after your journey. "

"No, " said the sister of the Baroness, smiling into her cup. 

"I hope the dear child is not tired, " said the Frau Doktor. 

"Not at all. "

"I expect, I hope you will sleep well to-night, " the Herr Oberlehrersaid reverently. 

"Yes. "

The poet from Munich never took his eyes off the pair. He allowed histie to absorb most of his coffee while he gazed at them exceedinglysoulfully. 

Unyoking Pegasus, thought I. Death spasms of his Odes to Solitude!There were possibilities in that young woman for an inspiration, notto mention a dedication, and from that moment his suffering temperamenttook up its bed and walked. 

They retired after the meal, leaving us to discuss them at leisure. 

"There is a likeness, " mused the Frau Doktor. "Quite. What a manner shehas. Such reserve, such a tender way with the child. "

"Pity she has the child to attend to, " exclaimed the student from Bonn. He had hitherto relied upon three scars and a ribbon to produce aneffect, but the sister of a Baroness demanded more than these. 

Absorbing days followed. Had she been one whit less beautifully born wecould not have endured the continual conversation about her, the songsin her praise, the detailed account of her movements. But she graciouslysuffered our worship and we were more than content. 

The poet she took into her confidence. He carried her books when wewent walking, he jumped the afflicted one on his knee--poetic licence, this--and one morning brought his notebook into the salon and read tous. 

"The sister of the Baroness has assured me she is going into a convent, "he said. (That made the student from Bonn sit up. ) "I have written thesefew lines last night from my window in the sweet night air--"

"Oh, your DELICATE chest, " commented the Frau Doktor. 

He fixed a stony eye on her, and she blushed. 

"I have written these lines:

"'Ah, will you to a convent fly, So young, so fresh, so fair? Spring like a doe upon the fields And find your beauty there. '"

Nine verses equally lovely commanded her to equally violent action. I amcertain that had she followed his advice not even the remainder of herlife in a convent would have given her time to recover her breath. 

"I have presented her with a copy, " he said. "And to-day we are going tolook for wild flowers in the wood. "

The student from Bonn got up and left the room. I begged the poet torepeat the verses once more. At the end of the sixth verse I saw fromthe window the sister of the Baroness and the scarred youth disappearingthrough the front gate, which enabled me to thank the poet so charminglythat he offered to write me out a copy. 

But we were living at too high pressure in those days. Swinging from ourhumble pension to the high walls of palaces, how could we help but fall?Late one afternoon the Frau Doktor came upon me in the writing-room andtook me to her bosom. 

"She has been telling me all about her life, " whispered the Frau Doktor. "She came to my bedroom and offered to massage my arm. You know, I amthe greatest martyr to rheumatism. And, fancy now, she has already hadsix proposals of marriage. Such beautiful offers that I assure you Iwept--and every one of noble birth. My dear, the most beautiful wasin the wood. Not that I do not think a proposal should take place ina drawing-room--it is more fitting to have four walls--but this wasa private wood. He said, the young officer, she was like a young treewhose branches had never been touched by the ruthless hand of man. Suchdelicacy!" She sighed and turned up her eyes. 

"Of course it is difficult for you English to understand when you arealways exposing your legs on cricket-fields, and breeding dogs in yourback gardens. The pity of it! Youth should be like a wild rose. Formyself I do not understand how your women ever get married at all. "

She shook her head so violently that I shook mine too, and a gloomsettled round my heart. It seemed we were really in a very bad way. Did the spirit of romance spread her rose wings only over aristocraticGermany?

I went to my room, bound a pink scarf about my hair, and took a volumeof Morike's lyrics into the garden. A great bush of purple lilac grewbehind the summer-house. There I sat down, finding a sad significancein the delicate suggestion of half mourning. I began to write a poemmyself. 

"They sway and languish dreamily, And we, close pressed, are kissingthere. "

It ended! "Close pressed" did not sound at all fascinating. Savoured ofwardrobes. Did my wild rose then already trail in the dust? I chewed aleaf and hugged my knees. Then--magic moment--I heard voices from thesummer-house, the sister of the Baroness and the student from Bonn. 

Second-hand was better than nothing; I pricked up my ears. 

"What small hands you have, " said the student from Bonn. "They are likewhite lilies lying in the pool of your black dress. " This certainlysounded the real thing. Her high-born reply was what interested me. Sympathetic murmur only. 

"May I hold one?"

I heard two sighs--presumed they held--he had rifled those dark watersof a noble blossom. 

"Look at my great fingers beside yours. "

"But they are beautifully kept, " said the sister of the Baroness shyly. 

The minx! Was love then a question of manicure?

"How I should adore to kiss you, " murmured the student. "But you know Iam suffering from severe nasal catarrh, and I dare not risk giving itto you. Sixteen times last night did I count myself sneezing. And threedifferent handkerchiefs. "

I threw Morike into the lilac bush, and went back to the house. A greatautomobile snorted at the front door. In the salon great commotion. TheBaroness was paying a surprise visit to her little daughter. Clad in ayellow mackintosh she stood in the middle of the room questioning themanager. And every guest the pension contained was grouped about her, even the Frau Doktor, presumably examining a timetable, as near to theaugust skirts as possible. 

"But where is my maid?" asked the Baroness. 

"There was no maid, " replied the manager, "save for your gracious sisterand daughter. "

"Sister!" she cried sharply. "Fool, I have no sister. My child travelledwith the daughter of my dressmaker. "

Tableau grandissimo!

4. FRAU FISCHER. 

Frau Fischer was the fortunate possessor of a candle factory somewhereon the banks of the Eger, and once a year she ceased from her laboursto make a "cure" in Dorschausen, arriving with a dress-basket neatlycovered in a black tarpaulin and a hand-bag. The latter containedamongst her handkerchiefs, eau de Cologne, toothpicks, and a certainwoollen muffler very comforting to the "magen, " samples of her skillin candle-making, to be offered up as tokens of thanksgiving when herholiday time was over. 

Four of the clock one July afternoon she appeared at the PensionMuller. I was sitting in the arbour and watched her bustling up the pathfollowed by the red-bearded porter with her dress-basket in his arms anda sunflower between his teeth. The widow and her five innocent daughtersstood tastefully grouped upon the steps in appropriate attitudesof welcome; and the greetings were so long and loud that I felt asympathetic glow. 

"What a journey!" cried the Frau Fischer. "And nothing to eat in thetrain--nothing solid. I assure you the sides of my stomach are flappingtogether. But I must not spoil my appetite for dinner--just a cup ofcoffee in my room. Bertha, " turning to the youngest of the five, "howchanged! What a bust! Frau Hartmann, I congratulate you. "

Once again the Widow seized Frau Fischer's hands. "Kathi, too, asplendid woman; but a little pale. Perhaps the young man from Nurnbergis here again this year. How you keep them all I don't know. Each year Icome expecting to find you with an empty nest. It's surprising. "

Frau Hartmann, in an ashamed, apologetic voice: "We are such a happyfamily since my dear man died. "

"But these marriages--one must have courage; and after all, give themtime, they all make the happy family bigger--thank God for that. .. Arethere many people here just now?"

"Every room engaged. "

Followed a detailed description in the hall, murmured on the stairs, continued in six parts as they entered the large room (windows openingupon the garden) which Frau Fischer occupied each successive year. Iwas reading the "Miracles of Lourdes, " which a Catholic priest--fixinga gloomy eye upon my soul--had begged me to digest; but its wonders werecompletely routed by Frau Fischer's arrival. Not even the white rosesupon the feet of the Virgin could flourish in that atmosphere. 

". .. It was a simple shepherd-child who pastured her flocks upon thebarren fields. .. "

Voices from the room above: "The washstand has, of course, been scrubbedover with soda. "

". .. Poverty-stricken, her limbs with tattered rags half covered. .. "

"Every stick of the furniture has been sunning in the garden for threedays. And the carpet we made ourselves out of old clothes. There is apiece of that beautiful flannel petticoat you left us last summer. "

". .. Deaf and dumb was the child; in fact, the population considered herhalf idiot. .. "

"Yes, that is a new picture of the Kaiser. We have moved thethorn-crowned one of Jesus Christ out into the passage. It was notcheerful to sleep with. Dear Frau Fischer, won't you take your coffeeout in the garden?"

"That is a very nice idea. But first I must remove my corsets and myboots. Ah, what a relief to wear sandals again. I am needing the 'cure'very badly this year. My nerves! I am a mass of them. During the entirejourney I sat with my handkerchief over my head, even while the guardcollected the tickets. Exhausted!"

She came into the arbour wearing a black and white spotteddressing-gown, and a calico cap peaked with patent leather, followed byKathi, carrying the little blue jugs of malt coffee. We were formallyintroduced. Frau Fischer sat down, produced a perfectly clean pockethandkerchief and polished her cup and saucer, then lifted the lid of thecoffee-pot and peered in at the contents mournfully. 

"Malt coffee, " she said. "Ah, for the first few days I wonder how Ican put up with it. Naturally, absent from home one must expect muchdiscomfort and strange food. But as I used to say to my dear husband:with a clean sheet and a good cup of coffee I can find my happinessanywhere. But now, with nerves like mine, no sacrifice is too terriblefor me to make. What complaint are you suffering from? You lookexceedingly healthy!"

I smiled and shrugged my shoulders. 

"Ah, that is so strange about you English. You do not seem to enjoydiscussing the functions of the body. As well speak of a railway trainand refuse to mention the engine. How can we hope to understandanybody, knowing nothing of their stomachs? In my husband's most severeillness--the poultices--"

She dipped a piece of sugar in her coffee and watched it dissolve. 

"Yet a young friend of mine who travelled to England for the funeralof his brother told me that women wore bodices in public restaurants nowaiter could help looking into as he handed the soup. "

"But only German waiters, " I said. "English ones look over the top ofyour head. "

"There, " she cried, "now you see your dependence on Germany. Not even anefficient waiter can you have by yourselves. "

"But I prefer them to look over your head. "

"And that proves that you must be ashamed of your bodice. "

I looked out over the garden full of wall-flowers and standardrose-trees growing stiffly like German bouquets, feeling I did not careone way or the other. I rather wanted to ask her if the young friend hadgone to England in the capacity of waiter to attend the funeral bakedmeats, but decided it was not worth it. The weather was too hot to bemalicious, and who could be uncharitable, victimised by the flappingsensations which Frau Fischer was enduring until six-thirty? As a giftfrom heaven for my forbearance, down the path towards us came the HerrRat, angelically clad in a white silk suit. He and Frau Fischer were oldfriends. She drew the folds of her dressing-gown together, and made roomfor him on the little green bench. 

"How cool you are looking, " she said; "and if I may make theremark--what a beautiful suit!"

"Surely I wore it last summer when you were here? I brought the silkfrom China--smuggled it through the Russian customs by swathing it roundmy body. And such a quantity: two dress lengths for my sister-in-law, three suits for myself, a cloak for the housekeeper of my flat inMunich. How I perspired! Every inch of it had to be washed afterwards. "

"Surely you have had more adventures than any man in Germany. When Ithink of the time that you spent in Turkey with a drunken guide who wasbitten by a mad dog and fell over a precipice into a field of attar ofroses, I lament that you have not written a book. "

"Time--time. I am getting a few notes together. And now that you arehere we shall renew our quiet little talks after supper. Yes? It isnecessary and pleasant for a man to find relaxation in the company ofwomen occasionally. "

"Indeed I realise that. Even here your life is too strenuous--you are sosought after--so admired. It was just the same with my dear husband. Hewas a tall, beautiful man, and sometimes in the evening he would comedown into the kitchen and say: 'Wife, I would like to be stupid for twominutes. ' Nothing rested him so much then as for me to stroke his head. "

The Herr Rat's bald pate glistening in the sunlight seemed symbolical ofthe sad absence of a wife. 

I began to wonder as to the nature of these quiet little after-suppertalks. How could one play Delilah to so shorn a Samson?

"Herr Hoffmann from Berlin arrived yesterday, " said the Herr Rat. 

"That young man I refuse to converse with. He told me last year thathe had stayed in France in an hotel where they did not have serviettes;what a place it must have been! In Austria even the cabmen haveserviettes. Also I have heard that he discussed 'free love' with Berthaas she was sweeping his room. I am not accustomed to such company. I hadsuspected him for a long time. "

"Young blood, " answered the Herr Rat genially. "I have had severaldisputes with him--you have heard them--is it not so?" turning to me. 

"A great many, " I said, smiling. 

"Doubtless you too consider me behind the times. I make no secret of myage; I am sixty-nine; but you must have surely observed how impossibleit was for him to speak at all when I raised my voice. "

I replied with the utmost conviction, and, catching Frau Fischer'seye, suddenly realised I had better go back to the house and write someletters. 

It was dark and cool in my room. A chestnut tree pushed green boughsagainst the window. I looked down at the horsehair sofa so openlyflouting the idea of curling up as immoral, pulled the red pillow on tothe floor and lay down. And barely had I got comfortable when the dooropened and Frau Fischer entered. 

"The Herr Rat had a bathing appointment, " she said, shutting the doorafter her. "May I come in? Pray do not move. You look like a littlePersian kitten. Now, tell me something really interesting about yourlife. When I meet new people I squeeze them dry like a sponge. To beginwith--you are married. "

I admit the fact. 

"Then, dear child, where is your husband?"

I said he was a sea-captain on a long and perilous voyage. 

"What a position to leave you in--so young and so unprotected. "

She sat down on the sofa and shook her finger at me playfully. 

"Admit, now, that you keep your journeys secret from him. For whatman would think of allowing a woman with such a wealth of hair to gowandering in foreign countries? Now, supposing that you lost your purseat midnight in a snowbound train in North Russia?"

"But I haven't the slightest intention--" I began. 

"I don't say that you have. But when you said good-bye to your dear manI am positive that you had no intention of coming here. My dear, I am awoman of experience, and I know the world. While he is away you have afever in your blood. Your sad heart flies for comfort to these foreignlands. At home you cannot bear the sight of that empty bed---it is likewidowhood. Since the death of my dear husband I have never known anhour's peace. "

"I like empty beds, " I protested sleepily, thumping the pillow. 

"That cannot be true because it is not natural. Every wife ought to feelthat her place is by her husband's side--sleeping or waking. It is plainto see that the strongest tie of all does not yet bind you. Wait untila little pair of hands stretches across the water--wait until he comesinto harbour and sees you with the child at your breast. "

I sat up stiffly. 

"But I consider child-bearing the most ignominious of all professions, "I said. 

For a moment there was silence. Then Frau Fischer reached down andcaught my hand. 

"So young and yet to suffer so cruelly, " she murmured. "There is nothingthat sours a woman so terribly as to be left alone without a man, especially if she is married, for then it is impossible for her toaccept the attention of others--unless she is unfortunately a widow. Ofcourse, I know that sea-captains are subject to terrible temptations, and they are as inflammable as tenor singers--that is why you mustpresent a bright and energetic appearance, and try and make him proud ofyou when his ship reaches port. "

This husband that I had created for the benefit of Frau Fischer becamein her hands so substantial a figure that I could no longer see myselfsitting on a rock with seaweed in my hair, awaiting that phantom shipfor which all women love to suppose they hunger. Rather I saw myselfpushing a perambulator up the gangway, and counting up the missingbuttons on my husband's uniform jacket. 

"Handfuls of babies, that is what you are really in need of, " mused FrauFischer. "Then, as the father of a family he cannot leave you. Think ofhis delight and excitement when he saw you!"

The plan seemed to me something of a risk. To appear suddenly withhandfuls of strange babies is not generally calculated to raiseenthusiasm in the heart of the average British husband. I decided towreck my virgin conception and send him down somewhere off Cape Horn. 

Then the dinner-gong sounded. 

"Come up to my room afterwards, " said Frau Fischer. "There is still muchthat I must ask you. "

She squeezed my hand, but I did not squeeze back. 

5. FRAU BRECHENMACHER ATTENDS A WEDDING. 

Getting ready was a terrible business. After supper Frau Brechenmacherpacked four of the five babies to bed, allowing Rosa to stay with herand help to polish the buttons of Herr Brechenmacher's uniform. Then sheran over his best shirt with a hot iron, polished his boots, and put astitch or two into his black satin necktie. 

"Rosa, " she said, "fetch my dress and hang it in front of the stove toget the creases out. Now, mind, you must look after the children and notsit up later than half-past eight, and not touch the lamp--you know whatwill happen if you do. "

"Yes, Mamma, " said Rosa, who was nine and felt old enough to manage athousand lamps. "But let me stay up--the 'Bub' may wake and want somemilk. "

"Half-past eight!" said the Frau. "I'll make the father tell you too. "

Rosa drew down the corners of her mouth. 

"But. .. But. .. "

"Here comes the father. You go into the bedroom and fetch my blue silkhandkerchief. You can wear my black shawl while I'm out--there now!"

Rosa dragged it off her mother's shoulders and wound it carefullyround her own, tying the two ends in a knot at the back. After all, shereflected, if she had to go to bed at half past eight she would keep theshawl on. Which resolution comforted her absolutely. 

"Now, then, where are my clothes?" cried Herr Brechenmacher, hanging hisempty letter-bag behind the door and stamping the snow out of his boots. "Nothing ready, of course, and everybody at the wedding by this time. Iheard the music as I passed. What are you doing? You're not dressed. Youcan't go like that. "

"Here they are--all ready for you on the table, and some warm waterin the tin basin. Dip your head in. Rosa, give your father the towel. Everything ready except the trousers. I haven't had time to shortenthem. You must tuck the ends into your boots until we get there. "

"Nu, " said the Herr, "there isn't room to turn. I want the light. You goand dress in the passage. "

Dressing in the dark was nothing to Frau Brechenmacher. She hookedher skirt and bodice, fastened her handkerchief round her neck with abeautiful brooch that had four medals to the Virgin dangling from it, and then drew on her cloak and hood. 

"Here, come and fasten this buckle, " called Herr Brechenmacher. He stoodin the kitchen puffing himself out, the buttons on his blue uniformshining with an enthusiasm which nothing but official buttons couldpossibly possess. "How do I look?"

"Wonderful, " replied the little Frau, straining at the waist buckle andgiving him a little pull here, a little tug there. "Rosa, come and lookat your father. "

Herr Brechenmacher strode up and down the kitchen, was helped on withhis coat, then waited while the Frau lighted the lantern. 

"Now, then--finished at last! Come along. "

"The lamp, Rosa, " warned the Frau, slamming the front door behind them. 

Snow had not fallen all day; the frozen ground was slippery as anicepond. She had not been out of the house for weeks past, and the dayhad so flurried her that she felt muddled and stupid--felt that Rosa hadpushed her out of the house and her man was running away from her. 

"Wait, wait!" she cried. 

"No. I'll get my feet damp--you hurry. "

It was easier when they came into the village. There were fences tocling to, and leading from the railway station to the Gasthaus a littlepath of cinders had been strewn for the benefit of the wedding guests. 

The Gasthaus was very festive. Lights shone out from every window, wreaths of fir twigs hung from the ledges. Branches decorated thefront doors, which swung open, and in the hall the landlord voiced hissuperiority by bullying the waitresses, who ran about continually withglasses of beer, trays of cups and saucers, and bottles of wine. 

"Up the stairs--up the stairs!" boomed the landlord. "Leave your coatson the landing. "

Herr Brechenmacher, completely overawed by this grand manner, so farforgot his rights as a husband as to beg his wife's pardon for jostlingher against the banisters in his efforts to get ahead of everybody else. 

Herr Brechenmacher's colleagues greeted him with acclamation as heentered the door of the Festsaal, and the Frau straightened her broochand folded her hands, assuming the air of dignity becoming to the wifeof a postman and the mother of five children. Beautiful indeed was theFestsaal. Three long tables were grouped at one end, the remainderof the floor space cleared for dancing. Oil lamps, hanging from theceiling, shed a warm, bright light on the walls decorated with paperflowers and garlands; shed a warmer, brighter light on the red faces ofthe guests in their best clothes. 

At the head of the centre table sat the bride and bridegroom, she in awhite dress trimmed with stripes and bows of coloured ribbon, giving herthe appearance of an iced cake all ready to be cut and served in neatlittle pieces to the bridegroom beside her, who wore a suit of whiteclothes much too large for him and a white silk tie that rose halfwayup his collar. Grouped about them, with a fine regard for dignity andprecedence, sat their parents and relations; and perched on a stool atthe bride's right hand a little girl in a crumpled muslin dress with awreath of forget-me-nots hanging over one ear. Everybody was laughingand talking, shaking hands, clinking glasses, stamping on the floor--astench of beer and perspiration filled the air. 

Frau Brechenmacher, following her man down the room after greeting thebridal party, knew that she was going to enjoy herself. She seemed tofill out and become rosy and warm as she sniffed that familiar festivesmell. Somebody pulled at her skirt, and, looking down, she saw FrauRupp, the butcher's wife, who pulled out an empty chair and begged herto sit beside her. 

"Fritz will get you some beer, " she said. "My dear, your skirt is openat the back. We could not help laughing as you walked up the room withthe white tape of your petticoat showing!"

"But how frightful!" said Frau Brechenmacher, collapsing into her chairand biting her lip. 

"Na, it's over now, " said Frau Rupp, stretching her fat hands over thetable and regarding her three mourning rings with intense enjoyment;"but one must be careful, especially at a wedding. "

"And such a wedding as this, " cried Frau Ledermann, who sat on the otherside of Frau Brechenmacher. "Fancy Theresa bringing that child with her. It's her own child, you know, my dear, and it's going to live with them. That's what I call a sin against the Church for a free-born child toattend its own mother's wedding. "

The three women sat and stared at the bride, who remained very still, with a little vacant smile on her lips, only her eyes shifting uneasilyfrom side to side. 

"Beer they've given it, too, " whispered Frau Rupp, "and white wine andan ice. It never did have a stomach; she ought to have left it at home. "

Frau Brechenmacher turned round and looked towards the bride's mother. She never took her eyes off her daughter, but wrinkled her brownforehead like an old monkey, and nodded now and again very solemnly. Herhands shook as she raised her beer mug, and when she had drunk she spaton the floor and savagely wiped her mouth with her sleeve. Thenthe music started and she followed Theresa with her eyes, lookingsuspiciously at each man who danced with her. 

"Cheer up, old woman, " shouted her husband, digging her in the ribs;"this isn't Theresa's funeral. " He winked at the guests, who broke intoloud laughter. 

"I AM cheerful, " mumbled the old woman, and beat upon the table withher fist, keeping time to the music, proving she was not out of thefestivities. 

"She can't forget how wild Theresa has been, " said Frau Ledermann. "Whocould--with the child there? I heard that last Sunday evening Theresahad hysterics and said that she would not marry this man. They had toget the priest to her. "

"Where is the other one?" asked Frau Brechenmacher. "Why didn't he marryher?"

The woman shrugged her shoulders. 

"Gone--disappeared. He was a traveller, and only stayed at their housetwo nights. He was selling shirt buttons--I bought some myself, and theywere beautiful shirt buttons--but what a pig of a fellow! I can't thinkwhat he saw in such a plain girl--but you never know. Her mother saysshe's been like fire ever since she was sixteen!"

Frau Brechenmacher looked down at her beer and blew a little hole in thefroth. 

"That's not how a wedding should be, " she said; "it's not religion tolove two men. "

"Nice time she'll have with this one, " Frau Rupp exclaimed. "He waslodging with me last summer and I had to get rid of him. He neverchanged his clothes once in two months, and when I spoke to him of thesmell in his room he told me he was sure it floated up from the shop. Ah, every wife has her cross. Isn't that true, my dear?"

Frau Brechenmacher saw her husband among his colleagues at the nexttable. He was drinking far too much, she knew--gesticulating wildly, thesaliva spluttering out of his mouth as he talked. 

"Yes, " she assented, "that's true. Girls have a lot to learn. "

Wedged in between these two fat old women, the Frau had no hope ofbeing asked to dance. She watched the couples going round and round; sheforgot her five babies and her man and felt almost like a girl again. The music sounded sad and sweet. Her roughened hands clasped andunclasped themselves in the folds of her skirt. While the music went onshe was afraid to look anybody in the face, and she smiled with a littlenervous tremor round the mouth. 

"But, my God, " Frau Rupp cried, "they've given that child of Theresa'sa piece of sausage. It's to keep her quiet. There's going to be apresentation now--your man has to speak. "

Frau Brechenmacher sat up stiffly. The music ceased, and the dancerstook their places again at the tables. 

Herr Brechenmacher alone remained standing--he held in his hands a bigsilver coffee-pot. Everybody laughed at his speech, except the Frau;everybody roared at his grimaces, and at the way he carried thecoffee-pot to the bridal pair, as if it were a baby he was holding. 

She lifted the lid, peeped in, then shut it down with a little screamand sat biting her lips. The bridegroom wrenched the pot away from herand drew forth a baby's bottle and two little cradles holding chinadolls. As he dandled these treasures before Theresa the hot room seemedto heave and sway with laughter. 

Frau Brechenmacher did not think it funny. She stared round at thelaughing faces, and suddenly they all seemed strange to her. She wantedto go home and never come out again. She imagined that all these peoplewere laughing at her, more people than there were in the room even--alllaughing at her because they were so much stronger than she was. 

. .. They walked home in silence. Herr Brechenmacher strode ahead, shestumbled after him. White and forsaken lay the road from the railwaystation to their house--a cold rush of wind blew her hood from her face, and suddenly she remembered how they had come home together the firstnight. Now they had five babies and twice as much money; BUT--

"Na, what is it all for?" she muttered, and not until she had reachedhome, and prepared a little supper of meat and bread for her man did shestop asking herself that silly question. 

Herr Brechenmacher broke the bread into his plate, smeared it round withhis fork and chewed greedily. 

"Good?" she asked, leaning her arms on the table and pillowing herbreast against them. 

"But fine!"

He took a piece of the crumb, wiped it round his plate edge, and held itup to her mouth. She shook her head. 

"Not hungry, " she said. 

"But it is one of the best pieces, and full of the fat. "

He cleared the plate; then pulled off his boots and flung them into acorner. 

"Not much of a wedding, " he said, stretching out his feet and wrigglinghis toes in the worsted socks. 

"N--no, " she replied, taking up the discarded boots and placing them onthe oven to dry. 

Herr Brechenmacher yawned and stretched himself, and then looked up ather, grinning. 

"Remember the night that we came home? You were an innocent one, youwere. "

"Get along! Such a time ago I forget. " Well she remembered. 

"Such a clout on the ear as you gave me. .. But I soon taught you. "

"Oh, don't start talking. You've too much beer. Come to bed. "

He tilted back in his chair, chuckling with laughter. 

"That's not what you said to me that night. God, the trouble you gaveme!"

But the little Frau seized the candle and went into the next room. Thechildren were all soundly sleeping. She stripped the mattress off thebaby's bed to see if he was still dry, then began unfastening her blouseand skirt. 

"Always the same, " she said--"all over the world the same; but, God inheaven--but STUPID. "

Then even the memory of the wedding faded quite. She lay down on the bedand put her arm across her face like a child who expected to be hurt asHerr Brechenmacher lurched in. 

6. THE MODERN SOUL. 

"Good-evening, " said the Herr Professor, squeezing my hand; "wonderfulweather! I have just returned from a party in the wood. I have beenmaking music for them on my trombone. You know, these pine-trees providemost suitable accompaniment for a trombone! They are sighing delicacyagainst sustained strength, as I remarked once in a lecture on windinstruments in Frankfort. May I be permitted to sit beside you on thisbench, gnadige Frau?"

He sat down, tugging at a white-paper package in the tail pocket of hiscoat. 

"Cherries, " he said, nodding and smiling. "There is nothing likecherries for producing free saliva after trombone playing, especiallyafter Grieg's 'Ich Liebe Dich. ' Those sustained blasts on 'liebe' makemy throat as dry as a railway tunnel. Have some?" He shook the bag atme. 

"I prefer watching you eat them. "

"Ah, ha!" He crossed his legs, sticking the cherry bag between hisknees, to leave both hands free. "Psychologically I understood yourrefusal. It is your innate feminine delicacy in preferring etherealisedsensations. .. Or perhaps you do not care to eat the worms. All cherriescontain worms. Once I made a very interesting experiment with acolleague of mine at the university. We bit into four pounds of the bestcherries and did not find one specimen without a worm. But what wouldyou? As I remarked to him afterwards--dear friend, it amounts to this:if one wishes to satisfy the desires of nature one must be strong enoughto ignore the facts of nature. .. The conversation is not out of yourdepth? I have so seldom the time or opportunity to open my heart to awoman that I am apt to forget. "

I looked at him brightly. 

"See what a fat one!" cried the Herr Professor. "That is almost amouthful in itself; it is beautiful enough to hang from a watch-chain. "He chewed it up and spat the stone an incredible distance--over thegarden path into the flower bed. He was proud of the feat. I sawit. "The quantity of fruit I have eaten on this bench, " he sighed;"apricots, peaches and cherries. One day that garden bed will becomean orchard grove, and I shall allow you to pick as much as you please, without paying me anything. "

I was grateful, without showing undue excitement. 

"Which reminds me"--he hit the side of his nose with one finger--"themanager of the pension handed me my weekly bill after dinner thisevening. It is almost impossible to credit. I do not expect you tobelieve me--he has charged me extra for a miserable little glass of milkI drink in bed at night to prevent insomnia. Naturally, I did notpay. But the tragedy of the story is this: I cannot expect the milk toproduce somnolence any longer; my peaceful attitude of mind towards itis completely destroyed. I know I shall throw myself into a fever inattempting to plumb this want of generosity in so wealthy a man as themanager of a pension. Think of me to-night. "--he ground the empty bagunder his heel--"think that the worst is happening to me as your headdrops asleep on your pillow. "

Two ladies came on the front steps of the pension and stood, arm inarm, looking over the garden. The one, old and scraggy, dressed almostentirely in black bead trimming and a satin reticule; the other, youngand thin, in a white gown, her yellow hair tastefully garnished withmauve sweet peas. 

The Professor drew in his feet and sat up sharply, pulling down hiswaistcoat. 

"The Godowskas, " he murmured. "Do you know them? A mother and daughterfrom Vienna. The mother has an internal complaint and the daughter isan actress. Fraulein Sonia is a very modern soul. I think you would findher most sympathetic. She is forced to be in attendance on her motherjust now. But what a temperament! I have once described her in herautograph album as a tigress with a flower in the hair. Will you excuseme? Perhaps I can persuade them to be introduced to you. "

I said, "I am going up to my room. " But the Professor rose and shook aplayful finger at me. "Na, " he said, "we are friends, and, therefore, I shall speak quite frankly to you. I think they would consider ita little 'marked' if you immediately retired to the house at theirapproach, after sitting here alone with me in the twilight. You knowthis world. Yes, you know it as I do. "

I shrugged my shoulders, remarking with one eye that while the Professorhad been talking the Godowskas had trailed across the lawn towards us. They confronted the Herr Professor as he stood up. 

"Good-evening, " quavered Frau Godowska. "Wonderful weather! It has givenme quite a touch of hay fever!" Fraulein Godowska said nothing. Sheswooped over a rose growing in the embryo orchard then stretched out herhand with a magnificent gesture to the Herr Professor. He presented me. 

"This is my little English friend of whom I have spoken. She is thestranger in our midst. We have been eating cherries together. "

"How delightful, " sighed Frau Godowska. "My daughter and I have oftenobserved you through the bedroom window. Haven't we, Sonia?"

Sonia absorbed my outward and visible form with an inward and spiritualglance, then repeated the magnificent gesture for my benefit. The fourof us sat on the bench, with that faint air of excitement of passengersestablished in a railway carriage on the qui vive for the train whistle. Frau Godowska sneezed. "I wonder if it is hay fever, " she remarked, worrying the satin reticule for her handkerchief, "or would it be thedew. Sonia, dear, is the dew falling?"

Fraulein Sonia raised her face to the sky, and half closed her eyes. "No, mamma, my face is quite warm. Oh, look, Herr Professor, thereare swallows in flight; they are like a little flock of Japanesethoughts--nicht wahr?"

"Where?" cried the Herr Professor. "Oh yes, I see, by the kitchenchimney. But why do you say 'Japanese'? Could you not compare themwith equal veracity to a little flock of German thoughts in flight?" Herounded on me. "Have you swallows in England?"

"I believe there are some at certain seasons. But doubtless they havenot the same symbolical value for the English. In Germany--"

"I have never been to England, " interrupted Fraulein Sonia, "but I havemany English acquaintances. They are so cold!" She shivered. 

"Fish-blooded, " snapped Frau Godowska. "Without soul, without heart, without grace. But you cannot equal their dress materials. I spent aweek in Brighton twenty years ago, and the travelling cape I boughtthere is not yet worn out--the one you wrap the hot-water bottle in, Sonia. My lamented husband, your father, Sonia, knew a great deal aboutEngland. But the more he knew about it the oftener he remarked to me, 'England is merely an island of beef flesh swimming in a warm gulf seaof gravy. ' Such a brilliant way of putting things. Do you remember, Sonia?"

"I forget nothing, mamma, " answered Sonia. 

Said the Herr Professor: "That is the proof of your calling, gnadigesFraulein. Now I wonder--and this is a very interesting speculation--ismemory a blessing or--excuse the word--a curse?"

Frau Godowska looked into the distance, then the corners of her mouthdropped and her skin puckered. She began to shed tears. 

"Ach Gott! Gracious lady, what have I said?" exclaimed the HerrProfessor. 

Sonia took her mother's hand. "Do you know, " she said, "to-night it isstewed carrots and nut tart for supper. Suppose we go in and take ourplaces, " her sidelong, tragic stare accusing the Professor and me thewhile. 

I followed them across the lawn and up the steps. Frau Godowska wasmurmuring, "Such a wonderful, beloved man"; with her disengaged handFraulein Sonia was arranging the sweet pea "garniture. "

. .. 

"A concert for the benefit of afflicted Catholic infants will take placein the salon at eight-thirty P. M. Artists: Fraulein Sonia Godowska, from Vienna; Herr Professor Windberg and his trombone; Frau OberlehrerWeidel, and others. "

This notice was tied round the neck of the melancholy stag's head inthe dining-room. It graced him like a red and white dinner bib for daysbefore the event, causing the Herr Professor to bow before it and say"good appetite" until we sickened of his pleasantry and left the smilingto be done by the waiter, who was paid to be pleasing to the guests. 

On the appointed day the married ladies sailed about the pension dressedlike upholstered chairs, and the unmarried ladies like draped muslindressing-table covers. Frau Godowska pinned a rose in the centre ofher reticule; another blossom was tucked in the mazy folds of a whiteantimacassar thrown across her breast. The gentlemen wore black coats, white silk ties and ferny buttonholes tickling the chin. 

The floor of the salon was freshly polished, chairs and benchesarranged, and a row of little flags strung across the ceiling--they flewand jigged in the draught with all the enthusiasm of family washing. Itwas arranged that I should sit beside Frau Godowska, and that the HerrProfessor and Sonia should join us when their share of the concert wasover. 

"That will make you feel quite one of the performers, " said the HerrProfessor genially. "It is a great pity that the English nation isso unmusical. Never mind! To-night you shall hear something--we havediscovered a nest of talent during the rehearsals. "

"What do you intend to recite, Fraulein Sonia?"

She shook back her hair. "I never know until the last moment. When Icome on the stage I wait for one moment and then I have the sensation asthough something struck me here, "--she placed her hand upon her collarbrooch--"and. .. Words come!"

"Bend down a moment, " whispered her mother. "Sonia, love, your skirtsafety-pin is showing at the back. Shall I come outside and fasten itproperly for you, or will you do it yourself?"

"Oh, mamma, please don't say such things, " Sonia flushed and grew veryangry. "You know how sensitive I am to the slightest unsympatheticimpression at a time like this. .. I would rather my skirt dropped off mybody--"

"Sonia--my heart!"

A bell tinkled. 

The waiter came in and opened the piano. In the heated excitement of themoment he entirely forgot what was fitting, and flicked the keys withthe grimy table napkin he carried over his arm. The Frau Oberlehrertripped on the platform followed by a very young gentleman, who blewhis nose twice before he hurled his handkerchief into the bosom of thepiano. 

"Yes, I know you have no love for me, And no forget-me-not. No love, no heart, and no forget-me-not. "

sang the Frau Oberlehrer, in a voice that seemed to issue from herforgotten thimble and have nothing to do with her. 

"Ach, how sweet, how delicate, " we cried, clapping her soothingly. Shebowed as though to say, "Yes, isn't it?" and retired, the very younggentleman dodging her train and scowling. 

The piano was closed, an arm-chair was placed in the centre of theplatform. Fraulein Sonia drifted towards it. A breathless pause. Then, presumably, the winged shaft struck her collar brooch. She imploredus not to go into the woods in trained dresses, but rather as lightlydraped as possible, and bed with her among the pine needles. Her loud, slightly harsh voice filled the salon. She dropped her arms over theback of the chair, moving her lean hands from the wrists. We werethrilled and silent. The Herr Professor, beside me, abnormally serious, his eyes bulging, pulled at his moustache ends. Frau Godowska adoptedthat peculiarly detached attitude of the proud parent. The only soul whoremained untouched by her appeal was the waiter, who leaned idlyagainst the wall of the salon and cleaned his nails with the edge of aprogramme. He was "off duty" and intended to show it. 

"What did I say?" shouted the Herr Professor under cover of tumultuousapplause, "tem-per-ament! There you have it. She is a flame in theheart of a lily. I know I am going to play well. It is my turn now. I aminspired. Fraulein Sonia"--as that lady returned to us, pale and drapedin a large shawl--"you are my inspiration. To-night you shall be thesoul of my trombone. Wait only. "

To right and left of us people bent over and whispered admiration downFraulein Sonia's neck. She bowed in the grand style. 

"I am always successful, " she said to me. "You see, when I act I AM. InVienna, in the plays of Ibsen we had so many bouquets that the cookhad three in the kitchen. But it is difficult here. There is so littlemagic. Do you not feel it? There is none of that mysterious perfumewhich floats almost as a visible thing from the souls of the Vienneseaudiences. My spirit starves for want of that. " She leaned forward, chinon hand. "Starves, " she repeated. 

The Professor appeared with his trombone, blew into it, held it up toone eye, tucked back his shirt cuffs and wallowed in the soul of SoniaGodowska. Such a sensation did he create that he was recalled to playa Bavarian dance, which he acknowledged was to be taken as a breathingexercise rather than an artistic achievement. Frau Godowska kept time toit with a fan. 

Followed the very young gentleman who piped in a tenor voice that heloved somebody, "with blood in his heart and a thousand pains. " FrauleinSonia acted a poison scene with the assistance of her mother's pill vialand the arm-chair replaced by a "chaise longue"; a young girl scratcheda lullaby on a young fiddle; and the Herr Professor performed the lastsacrificial rites on the altar of the afflicted children by playing theNational Anthem. 

"Now I must put mamma to bed, " whispered Fraulein Sonia. "But afterwardsI must take a walk. It is imperative that I free my spirit in the openair for a moment. Would you come with me as far as the railway stationand back?"

"Very well, then, knock on my door when you're ready. "

Thus the modern soul and I found ourselves together under the stars. 

"What a night!" she said. "Do you know that poem of Sappho abouther hands in the stars. .. I am curiously sapphic. And this is soremarkable--not only am I sapphic, I find in all the works of all thegreatest writers, especially in their unedited letters, some touch, somesign of myself--some resemblance, some part of myself, like a thousandreflections of my own hands in a dark mirror. "

"But what a bother, " said I. 

"I do not know what you mean by 'bother'; is it rather the curse of mygenius. .. " She paused suddenly, staring at me. "Do you know my tragedy?"she asked. 

I shook my head. 

"My tragedy is my mother. Living with her I live with the coffin of myunborn aspirations. You heard that about the safety-pin to-night. It mayseem to you a little thing, but it ruined my three first gestures. Theywere--"

"Impaled on a safety-pin, " I suggested. 

"Yes, exactly that. And when we are in Vienna I am the victim of moods, you know. I long to do wild, passionate things. And mamma says, 'Pleasepour out my mixture first. ' Once I remember I flew into a rage and threwa washstand jug out of the window. Do you know what she said? 'Sonia, itis not so much throwing things out of windows, if only you would--'"

"Choose something smaller?" said I. 

"No. .. 'tell me about it beforehand. ' Humiliating! And I do not see anypossible light out of this darkness. "

"Why don't you join a touring company and leave your mother in Vienna?"

"What! Leave my poor, little, sick, widowed mother in Vienna! Soonerthan that I would drown myself. I love my mother as I love nobody elsein the world--nobody and nothing! Do you think it is impossible to loveone's tragedy? 'Out of my great sorrows I make my little songs, ' that isHeine or myself. "

"Oh, well, that's all right, " I said cheerfully. 

"'But it is not all right!"

I suggested we should turn back. We turned. 

"Sometimes I think the solution lies in marriage, " said Fraulein Sonia. "If I find a simple, peaceful man who adores me and will look aftermamma--a man who would be for me a pillow--for genius cannot hope tomate--I shall marry him. .. You know the Herr Professor has paid me verymarked attentions. "

"Oh, Fraulein Sonia, " I said, very pleased with myself, "why not marryhim to your mother?" We were passing the hairdresser's shop at themoment. Fraulein Sonia clutched my arm. 

"You, you, " she stammered. "The cruelty. I am going to faint. Mamma tomarry again before I marry--the indignity. I am going to faint here andnow. "

I was frightened. "You can't, " I said, shaking her. 

"Come back to the pension and faint as much as you please. But you can'tfaint here. All the shops are closed. There is nobody about. Pleasedon't be so foolish. "

"Here and here only!" She indicated the exact spot and dropped quitebeautifully, lying motionless. 

"Very well, " I said, "faint away; but please hurry over it. "

She did not move. I began to walk home, but each time I looked behindme I saw the dark form of the modern soul prone before the hairdresser'swindow. Finally I ran, and rooted out the Herr Professor from his room. "Fraulein Sonia has fainted, " I said crossly. 

"Du lieber Gott! Where? How?"

"Outside the hairdresser's shop in the Station Road. "

"Jesus and Maria! Has she no water with her?"--he seized hiscarafe--"nobody beside her?"

"Nothing. "

"Where is my coat? No matter, I shall catch a cold on the chest. Willingly, I shall catch one. .. You are ready to come with me?"

"No, " I said; "you can take the waiter. "

"But she must have a woman. I cannot be so indelicate as to attempt toloosen her stays. "

"Modern souls oughtn't to wear them, " said I. He pushed past me andclattered down the stairs. 

. .. When I came down to breakfast next morning there were two placesvacant at table. Fraulein Sonia and Herr Professor had gone off for aday's excursion in the woods. 

I wondered. 

7. AT LEHMANN'S. 

Certainly Sabina did not find life slow. She was on the trot from earlymorning until late at night. At five o'clock she tumbled out of bed, buttoned on her clothes, wearing a long-sleeved alpaca pinafore over herblack frock, and groped her way downstairs into the kitchen. 

Anna, the cook, had grown so fat during the summer that she adored herbed because she did not have to wear her corsets there, but could spreadas much as she liked, roll about under the great mattress, calling uponJesus and Holy Mary and Blessed Anthony himself that her life was notfit for a pig in a cellar. 

Sabina was new to her work. Pink colour still flew in her cheeks; therewas a little dimple on the left side of her mouth that even when shewas most serious, most absorbed, popped out and gave her away. And Annablessed that dimple. It meant an extra half-hour in bed for her; it madeSabina light the fire, turn out the kitchen and wash endless cups andsaucers that had been left over from the evening before. Hans, thescullery boy, did not come until seven. He was the son of the butcher--amean, undersized child very much like one of his father's sausages, Sabina thought. His red face was covered with pimples, and his nailsindescribably filthy. When Herr Lehmann himself told Hans to get ahairpin and clean them he said they were stained from birth because hismother had always got so inky doing the accounts--and Sabina believedhim and pitied him. 

Winter had come very early to Mindelbau. By the end of October thestreets were banked waist-high with snow, and the greater number of the"Cure Guests, " sick unto death of cold water and herbs, had departed innothing approaching peace. So the large salon was shut at Lehmann's andthe breakfast-room was all the accommodation the cafe afforded. Herethe floor had to be washed over, the tables rubbed, coffee-cups setout, each with its little china platter of sugar, and newspapers andmagazines hung on their hooks along the walls before Herr Lehmannappeared at seven-thirty and opened business. 

As a rule his wife served in the shop leading into the cafe, but she hadchosen the quiet season to have a baby, and, a big woman at the best oftimes, she had grown so enormous in the process that her husband toldher she looked unappetising, and had better remain upstairs and sew. 

Sabina took on the extra work without any thought of extra pay. She loved to stand behind the counter, cutting up slices of Anna'smarvellous chocolate-spotted confections, or doing up packets of sugaralmonds in pink and blue striped bags. 

"You'll get varicose veins, like me, " said Anna. "That's what the Frau'sgot, too. No wonder the baby doesn't come! All her swelling's got intoher legs. " And Hans was immensely interested. 

During the morning business was comparatively slack. Sabina answered theshop bell, attended to a few customers who drank a liqueur to warm theirstomachs before the midday meal, and ran upstairs now and again toask the Frau if she wanted anything. But in the afternoon six or sevenchoice spirits played cards, and everybody who was anybody drank tea orcoffee. 

"Sabina. .. Sabina. .. "

She flew from one table to the other, counting out handfuls of smallchange, giving orders to Anna through the "slide, " helping the men withtheir heavy coats, always with that magical child air about her, thatdelightful sense of perpetually attending a party. 

"How is the Frau Lehmann?" the women would whisper. 

"She feels rather low, but as well as can be expected, " Sabina wouldanswer, nodding confidentially. 

Frau Lehmann's bad time was approaching. Anna and her friends referredto it as her "journey to Rome, " and Sabina longed to ask questions, yet, being ashamed of her ignorance, was silent, trying to puzzle it out forherself. She knew practically nothing except that the Frau had a babyinside her, which had to come out--very painful indeed. One could nothave one without a husband--that she also realised. But what had the mangot to do with it? So she wondered as she sat mending tea towels inthe evening, head bent over her work, light shining on her brown curls. Birth--what was it? wondered Sabina. Death--such a simple thing. She hada little picture of her dead grandmother dressed in a black silk frock, tired hands clasping the crucifix that dragged between her flattenedbreasts, mouth curiously tight, yet almost secretly smiling. But thegrandmother had been born once--that was the important fact. 

As she sat there one evening, thinking, the Young Man entered the cafe, and called for a glass of port wine. Sabina rose slowly. The long dayand the hot room made her feel a little languid, but as she poured outthe wine she felt the Young Man's eyes fixed on her, looked down at himand dimpled. 

"It's cold out, " she said, corking the bottle. 

The Young Man ran his hands through his snow-powdered hair and laughed. 

"I wouldn't call it exactly tropical, " he said, "But you're very snug inhere--look as though you've been asleep. "

Very languid felt Sabina in the hot room, and the Young Man's voice wasstrong and deep. She thought she had never seen anybody who lookedso strong--as though he could take up the table in one hand--and hisrestless gaze wandering over her face and figure gave her a curiousthrill deep in her body, half pleasure, half pain. .. She wanted to standthere, close beside him, while he drank his wine. A little silencefollowed. Then he took a book out of his pocket, and Sabina went backto her sewing. Sitting there in the corner, she listened to the sound ofthe leaves being turned and the loud ticking of the clock that hung overthe gilt mirror. She wanted to look at him again--there was a somethingabout him, in his deep voice, even in the way his clothes fitted. Fromthe room above she heard the heavy dragging sound of Frau Lehmann'sfootsteps, and again the old thoughts worried Sabina. If she herselfshould one day look like that--feel like that! Yet it would be verysweet to have a little baby to dress and jump up and down. 

"Fraulein--what's your name--what are you smiling at?" called the YoungMan. 

She blushed and looked up, hands quiet in her lap, looked across theempty tables and shook her head. 

"Come here, and I'll show you a picture, " he commanded. 

She went and stood beside him. He opened the book, and Sabina saw acoloured sketch of a naked girl sitting on the edge of a great, crumpledbed, a man's opera hat on the back of her head. 

He put his hand over the body, leaving only the face exposed, thenscrutinised Sabina closely. 

"Well?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, knowing perfectly well. 

"Why, it might be your own photograph--the face, I mean--that's as faras I can judge. "

"But the hair's done differently, " said Sabina, laughing. She threw backher head, and the laughter bubbled in her round white throat. 

"It's rather a nice picture, don't you think?" he asked. But she waslooking at a curious ring he wore on the hand that covered the girl'sbody, and only nodded. 

"Ever seen anything like it before?"

"Oh, there's plenty of those funny ones in the illustrated papers. "

"How would you like to have your picture taken that way?"

"Me? I'd never let anybody see it. Besides, I haven't got a hat likethat!"

"That's easily remedied. "

Again a little silence, broken by Anna throwing up the slide. 

Sabina ran into the kitchen. 

"Here, take this milk and egg up to the Frau, " said Anna. "Who've yougot in there?"

"Got such a funny man! I think he's a little gone here, " tapping herforehead. 

Upstairs in the ugly room the Frau sat sewing, a black shawl round hershoulders, her feet encased in red woollen slippers. The girl put themilk on a table by her, then stood, polishing a spoon on her apron. 

"Nothing else?"

"Na, " said the Frau, heaving up in her chair. "Where's my man?"

"He's playing cards over at Snipold's. Do you want him?"

"Dear heaven, leave him alone. I'm nothing. I don't matter. .. And thewhole day waiting here. "

Her hand shook as she wiped the rim of the glass with her fat finger. 

"Shall I help you to bed?"

"You go downstairs, leave me alone. Tell Anna not to let Hans grub thesugar--give him one on the ear. "

"Ugly--ugly--ugly, " muttered Sabina, returning to the cafe where theYoung Man stood coat-buttoned, ready for departure. 

"I'll come again to-morrow, " said he. "Don't twist your hair back sotightly; it will lose all its curl. "

"Well, you are a funny one, " she said. "Good night. "

By the time Sabina was ready for bed Anna was snoring. She brushed outher long hair and gathered it in her hands. .. Perhaps it would be a pityif it lost all its curl. Then she looked down at her straight chemise, and drawing it off, sat down on the side of the bed. 

"I wish, " she whispered, smiling sleepily, "there was a great biglooking-glass in this room. "

Lying down in the darkness, she hugged her little body. 

"I wouldn't be the Frau for one hundred marks--not for a thousand marks. To look like that. "

And half-dreaming, she imagined herself heaving up in her chair with theport wine bottle in her hand as the Young Man entered the cafe. 

Cold and dark the next morning. Sabina woke, tired, feeling as thoughsomething heavy had been pressing under her heart all night. There wasa sound of footsteps shuffling along the passage. Herr Lehmann! She musthave overslept herself. Yes, he was rattling the door-handle. 

"One moment, one moment, " she called, dragging on her stockings. 

"Bina, tell Anna to go to the Frau--but quickly. I must ride for thenurse. "

"Yes, yes!" she cried. "Has it come?"

But he had gone, and she ran over to Anna and shook her by the shoulder. 

"The Frau--the baby--Herr Lehmann for the nurse, " she stuttered. 

"Name of God!" said Anna, flinging herself out of bed. 

No complaints to-day. Importance--enthusiasm in Anna's whole bearing. 

"You run downstairs and light the oven. Put on a pan of water"--speakingto an imaginary sufferer as she fastened her blouse--"Yes, yes, Iknow--we must be worse before we are better--I'm coming--patience. "

It was dark all that day. Lights were turned on immediately the cafeopened, and business was very brisk. Anna, turned out of the Frau'sroom by the nurse, refused to work, and sat in a corner nursing herself, listening to sounds overhead. Hans was more sympathetic than Sabina. Healso forsook work, and stood by the window, picking his nose. 

"But why must I do everything?" said Sabina, washing glasses. "I can'thelp the Frau; she oughtn't to take such a time about it. "

"Listen, " said Anna, "they've moved her into the back bedroom abovehere, so as not to disturb the people. That was a groan--that one!"

"Two small beers, " shouted Herr Lehmann through the slide. 

"One moment, one moment. "

At eight o'clock the cafe was deserted. Sabina sat down in the cornerwithout her sewing. Nothing seemed to have happened to the Frau. Adoctor had come--that was all. 

"Ach, " said Sabina. "I think no more of it. I listen no more. Ach, Iwould like to go away--I hate this talk. I will not hear it. No, it istoo much. " She leaned both elbows on the table--cupped her face in herhands and pouted. 

But the outer door suddenly opening, she sprang to her feet and laughed. It was the Young Man again. He ordered more port, and brought no bookthis time. 

"Don't go and sit miles away, " he grumbled. "I want to be amused. Andhere, take my coat. Can't you dry it somewhere?--snowing again. "

"There's a warm place--the ladies' cloak-room, " she said. "I'll take itin there--just by the kitchen. "

She felt better, and quite happy again. 

"I'll come with you, " he said. "I'll see where you put it. "

And that did not seem at all extraordinary. She laughed and beckoned tohim. 

"In here, " she cried. "Feel how warm. I'll put more wood on that oven. It doesn't matter, they're all busy upstairs. "

She knelt down on the floor, and thrust the wood into the oven, laughingat her own wicked extravagance. 

The Frau was forgotten, the stupid day was forgotten. Here was someonebeside her laughing, too. They were together in the little warm roomstealing Herr Lehmann's wood. It seemed the most exciting adventurein the world. She wanted to go on laughing--or burst outcrying--or--or--catch hold of the Young Man. 

"What a fire, " she shrieked, stretching out her hands. 

"Here's a hand; pull up, " said the Young Man. "There, now, you'll catchit to-morrow. "

They stood opposite to each other, hands still clinging. And again thatstrange tremor thrilled Sabina. 

"Look here, " he said roughly, "are you a child, or are you playing atbeing one?"

"I--I--"

Laughter ceased. She looked up at him once, then down at the floor, andbegan breathing like a frightened little animal. 

He pulled her closer still and kissed her mouth. 

"Na, what are you doing?" she whispered. 

He let go her hands, he placed his on her breasts, and the room seemedto swim round Sabina. Suddenly, from the room above, a frightful, tearing shriek. 

She wrenched herself away, tightened herself, drew herself up. 

"Who did that--who made that noise?"

. .. In the silence the thin wailing of a baby. 

"Achk!" shrieked Sabina, rushing from the room. 

8. THE LUFT BAD. 

I think it must be the umbrellas which make us look ridiculous. 

When I was admitted into the enclosure for the first time, and saw myfellow-bathers walking about very nearly "in their nakeds, " it struck methat the umbrellas gave a distinctly "Little Black Sambo" touch. 

Ridiculous dignity in holding over yourself a green cotton thing witha red parroquet handle when you are dressed in nothing larger than ahandkerchief. 

There are no trees in the "Luft Bad. " It boasts a collection of plain, wooden cells, a bath shelter, two swings and two odd clubs--one, presumably the lost property of Hercules or the German army, and theother to be used with safety in the cradle. 

And there in all weathers we take the air--walking, or sitting in littlecompanies talking over each other's ailments and measurements and illsthat flesh is heir to. 

A high wooden wall compasses us all about; above it the pine-treeslook down a little superciliously, nudging each other in a way that ispeculiarly trying to a debutante. Over the wall, on the right side, isthe men's section. We hear them chopping down trees and sawing throughplanks, dashing heavy weights to the ground, and singing part songs. Yes, they take it far more seriously. 

On the first day I was conscious of my legs, and went back into my cellthree times to look at my watch, but when a woman with whom I had playedchess for three weeks cut me dead, I took heart and joined a circle. 

We lay curled on the ground while a Hungarian lady of immenseproportions told us what a beautiful tomb she had bought for her secondhusband. 

"A vault it is, " she said, "with nice black railings. And so large thatI can go down there and walk about. Both their photographs are there, with two very handsome wreaths sent me by my first husband's brother. There is an enlargement of a family group photograph, too, and anilluminated address presented to my first husband on his marriage. Iam often there; it makes such a pleasant excursion for a fine Saturdayafternoon. "

She suddenly lay down flat on her back, took in six long breaths, andsat up again. 

"The death agony was dreadful, " she said brightly; "of the second, Imean. The 'first' was run into by a furniture wagon, and had fifty marksstolen out of a new waistcoat pocket, but the 'second' was dying forsixty-seven hours. I never ceased crying once--not even to put thechildren to bed. "

A young Russian, with a "bang" curl on her forehead, turned to me. 

"Can you do the 'Salome' dance?" she asked. "I can. "

"How delightful, " I said. 

"Shall I do it now? Would you like to see me?"

She sprang to her feet, executed a series of amazing contortions for thenext ten minutes, and then paused, panting, twisting her long hair. 

"Isn't that nice?" she said. "And now I am perspiring so splendidly. Ishall go and take a bath. "

Opposite to me was the brownest woman I have ever seen, lying on herback, her arms clasped over her head. 

"How long have you been here to-day?" she was asked. 

"Oh, I spend the day here now, " she answered. "I am making my own'cure, ' and living entirely on raw vegetables and nuts, and each day Ifeel my spirit is stronger and purer. After all, what can you expect?The majority of us are walking about with pig corpuscles and oxenfragments in our brain. The wonder is the world is as good as it is. NowI live on the simple, provided food"--she pointed to a little bag besideher--"a lettuce, a carrot, a potato, and some nuts are ample, rationalnourishment. I wash them under the tap and eat them raw, just as theycome from the harmless earth--fresh and uncontaminated. "

"Do you take nothing else all day?" I cried. 

"Water. And perhaps a banana if I wake in the night. " She turned roundand leaned on one elbow. "You over-eat yourself dreadfully, " shesaid; "shamelessly! How can you expect the Flame of the Spirit to burnbrightly under layers of superfluous flesh?"

I wished she would not stare at me, and thought of going to look at mywatch again when a little girl wearing a string of coral beads joinedus. 

"The poor Frau Hauptmann cannot join us to-day, " she said; "she has comeout in spots all over on account of her nerves. She was very excitedyesterday after having written two post-cards. "

"A delicate woman, " volunteered the Hungarian, "but pleasant. Fancy, shehas a separate plate for each of her front teeth! But she has no rightto let her daughters wear such short sailor suits. They sit about onbenches, crossing their legs in a most shameless manner. What are yougoing to do this afternoon, Fraulein Anna?"

"Oh, " said the Coral Necklace, "the Herr Oberleutnant has asked me to gowith him to Landsdorf. He must buy some eggs there to take home to hismother. He saves a penny on eight eggs by knowing the right peasants tobargain with. "

"Are you an American?" said the Vegetable Lady, turning to me. 

"No. "

"Then you are an Englishwoman?"

"Well, hardly--"

"You must be one of the two; you cannot help it. I have seen you walkingalone several times. You wear your--"

I got up and climbed on to the swing. The air was sweet and cool, rushing past my body. Above, white clouds trailed delicately throughthe blue sky. From the pine forest streamed a wild perfume, the branchesswayed together, rhythmically, sonorously. I felt so light and free andhappy--so childish! I wanted to poke my tongue out at the circle on thegrass, who, drawing close together, were whispering meaningly. 

"Perhaps you do not know, " cried a voice from one of the cells, "toswing is very upsetting for the stomach? A friend of mine could keepnothing down for three weeks after exciting herself so. "

I went to the bath shelter and was hosed. 

As I dressed, someone tapped on the wall. 

"Do you know, " said a voice, "there is a man who LIVES in the Luft Badnext door? He buries himself up to the armpits in mud and refuses tobelieve in the Trinity. "

The umbrellas are the saving grace of the Luft Bad. Now when I go, Itake my husband's "storm" gamp and sit in a corner, hiding behind it. 

Not that I am in the least ashamed of my legs. 

9. A BIRTHDAY. 

Andreas Binzer woke slowly. He turned over on the narrow bed andstretched himself--yawned--opening his mouth as widely as possible andbringing his teeth together afterwards with a sharp "click. " The soundof that click fascinated him; he repeated it quickly several times, with a snapping movement of the jaws. What teeth! he thought. Sound as abell, every man jack of them. Never had one out, never had one stopped. That comes of no tomfoolery in eating, and a good regular brushing nightand morning. He raised himself on his left elbow and waved his right armover the side of the bed to feel for the chair where he put his watchand chain overnight. No chair was there--of course, he'd forgotten, there wasn't a chair in this wretched spare room. Had to put theconfounded thing under his pillow. "Half-past eight, Sunday, breakfastat nine--time for the bath"--his brain ticked to the watch. He sprangout of bed and went over to the window. The venetian blind was broken, hung fan-shaped over the upper pane. .. "That blind must be mended. I'llget the office boy to drop in and fix it on his way home to-morrow--he'sa good hand at blinds. Give him twopence and he'll do it as well as acarpenter. .. Anna could do it herself if she was all right. So wouldI, for the matter of that, but I don't like to trust myself on ricketystep-ladders. " He looked up at the sky: it shone, strangely white, unflecked with cloud; he looked down at the row of garden strips andbackyards. The fence of these gardens was built along the edge ofa gully, spanned by an iron suspension bridge, and the people had awretched habit of throwing their empty tins over the fence into thegully. Just like them, of course! Andreas started counting the tins, anddecided, viciously, to write a letter to the papers about it and signit--sign it in full. 

The servant girl came out of their back door into the yard, carrying hisboots. She threw one down on the ground, thrust her hand into the other, and stared at it, sucking in her cheeks. Suddenly she bent forward, spat on the toecap, and started polishing with a brush rooted out of herapron pocket. .. "Slut of a girl! Heaven knows what infectious disease maybe breeding now in that boot. Anna must get rid of that girl--evenif she has to do without one for a bit--as soon as she's up and aboutagain. The way she chucked one boot down and then spat upon the other!She didn't care whose boots she'd got hold of. SHE had no false notionsof the respect due to the master of the house. " He turned away fromthe window and switched his bath towel from the washstand rail, sick atheart. "I'm too sensitive for a man--that's what's the matter with me. Have been from the beginning, and will be to the end. "

There was a gentle knock at the door and his mother came in. She closedthe door after her and leant against it. Andreas noticed that her capwas crooked, and a long tail of hair hung over her shoulder. He wentforward and kissed her. 

"Good morning, mother; how's Anna?"

The old woman spoke quickly, clasping and unclasping her hands. 

"Andreas, please go to Doctor Erb as soon as you are dressed. "

"Why, " he said, "is she bad?"

Frau Binzer nodded, and Andreas, watching her, saw her face suddenlychange; a fine network of wrinkles seemed to pull over it from under theskin surface. 

"Sit down on the bed a moment, " he said. "Been up all night?"

"Yes. No, I won't sit down, I must go back to her. Anna has been in painall night. She wouldn't have you disturbed before because she said youlooked so run down yesterday. You told her you had caught a cold andbeen very worried. "

Straightway Andreas felt that he was being accused. 

"Well, she made me tell her, worried it out of me; you know the way shedoes. "

Again Frau Binzer nodded. 

"Oh yes, I know. She says, is your cold better, and there's a warmundervest for you in the left-hand corner of the big drawer. "

Quite automatically Andreas cleared his throat twice. 

"Yes, " he answered. "Tell her my throat certainly feels looser. Isuppose I'd better not disturb her?"

"No, and besides, TIME, Andreas. "

"I'll be ready in five minutes. "

They went into the passage. As Frau Binzer opened the door of the frontbedroom, a long wail came from the room. 

That shocked and terrified Andreas. He dashed into the bathroom, turnedon both taps as far as they would go, cleaned his teeth and pared hisnails while the water was running. 

"Frightful business, frightful business, " he heard himself whispering. "And I can't understand it. It isn't as though it were her first--it'sher third. Old Schafer told me, yesterday, his wife simply 'dropped' herfourth. Anna ought to have had a qualified nurse. Mother gives way toher. Mother spoils her. I wonder what she meant by saying I'd worriedAnna yesterday. Nice remark to make to a husband at a time like this. Unstrung, I suppose--and my sensitiveness again. "

When he went into the kitchen for his boots, the servant girl wasbent over the stove, cooking breakfast. "Breathing into that, now, Isuppose, " thought Andreas, and was very short with the servant girl. She did not notice. She was full of terrified joy and importance in thegoings on upstairs. She felt she was learning the secrets of life withevery breath she drew. Had laid the table that morning saying, "Boy, "as she put down the first dish, "Girl, " as she placed the second--ithad worked out with the saltspoon to "Boy. " "For two pins I'd tell themaster that, to comfort him, like, " she decided. But the Master gave herno opening. 

"Put an extra cup and saucer on the table, " he said; "the doctor maywant some coffee. "

"The doctor, sir?" The servant girl whipped a spoon out of a pan, andspilt two drops of grease on the stove. "Shall I fry something extra?"But the master had gone, slamming the door after him. He walked down thestreet--there was nobody about at all--dead and alive this place on aSunday morning. As he crossed the suspension bridge a strong stench offennel and decayed refuse streamed from the gulley, and again Andreasbegan concocting a letter. He turned into the main road. The shutterswere still up before the shops. Scraps of newspaper, hay, and fruitskins strewed the pavement; the gutters were choked with the leavings ofSaturday night. Two dogs sprawled in the middle of the road, scufflingand biting. Only the public-house at the corner was open; a young barmanslopped water over the doorstep. 

Fastidiously, his lips curling, Andreas picked his way through thewater. "Extraordinary how I am noticing things this morning. It's partlythe effect of Sunday. I loathe a Sunday when Anna's tied by the legand the children are away. On Sunday a man has the right to expect hisfamily. Everything here's filthy, the whole place might be down with theplague, and will be, too, if this street's not swept away. I'd like tohave a hand on the government ropes. " He braced his shoulders. "Now forthis doctor. "

"Doctor Erb is at breakfast, " the maid informed him. She showed himinto the waiting-room, a dark and musty place, with some ferns under aglass-case by the window. "He says he won't be a minute, please, sir, and there is a paper on the table. "

"Unhealthy hole, " thought Binzer, walking over to the window anddrumming his fingers on the glass fern-shade. "At breakfast, is he?That's the mistake I made: turning out early on an empty stomach. "

A milk cart rattled down the street, the driver standing at the back, cracking a whip; he wore an immense geranium flower stuck in the lapelof his coat. Firm as a rock he stood, bending back a little in theswaying cart. Andreas craned his neck to watch him all the way down theroad, even after he had gone, listening for the sharp sound of thoserattling cans. 

"H'm, not much wrong with him, " he reflected. "Wouldn't mind a taste ofthat life myself. Up early, work all over by eleven o'clock, nothingto do but loaf about all day until milking time. " Which he knew was anexaggeration, but he wanted to pity himself. 

The maid opened the door, and stood aside for Doctor Erb. Andreaswheeled round; the two men shook hands. 

"Well, Binzer, " said the doctor jovially, brushing some crumbs from apearl-coloured waistcoat, "son and heir becoming importunate?"

Up went Binzer's spirits with a bound. Son and heir, by Jove! He wasglad to have to deal with a man again. And a sane fellow this, who cameacross this sort of thing every day of the week. 

"That's about the measure of it, Doctor, " he answered, smiling andpicking up his hat. "Mother dragged me out of bed this morning withimperative orders to bring you along. "

"Gig will be round in a minute. Drive back with me, won't you?Extraordinary, sultry day; you're as red as a beetroot already. "

Andreas affected to laugh. The doctor had one annoying habit--imaginedhe had the right to poke fun at everybody simply because he was adoctor. "The man's riddled with conceit, like all these professionals, "Andreas decided. 

"What sort of night did Frau Binzer have?" asked the doctor. "Ah, here'sthe gig. Tell me on the way up. Sit as near the middle as you can, willyou, Binzer? Your weight tilts it over a bit one side--that's the worstof you successful business men. "

"Two stone heavier than I, if he's a pound, " thought Andreas. "The manmay be all right in his profession--but heaven preserve me. "

"Off you go, my beauty. " Doctor Erb flicked the little brown mare. "Didyour wife get any sleep last night?"

"No; I don't think she did, " answered Andreas shortly. "To tell you thetruth, I'm not satisfied that she hasn't a nurse. "

"Oh, your mother's worth a dozen nurses, " cried the doctor, with immensegusto. "To tell you the truth, I'm not keen on nurses--too raw--raw asrump-steak. They wrestle for a baby as though they were wrestling withDeath for the body of Patroclus. .. Ever seen that picture by an Englishartist. Leighton? Wonderful thing--full of sinew!"

"There he goes again, " thought Andreas, "airing off his knowledge tomake a fool of me. "

"Now your mother--she's firm--she's capable. Does what she's told witha fund of sympathy. Look at these shops we're passing--they're festeringsores. How on earth this government can tolerate--"

"They're not so bad--sound enough--only want a coat of paint. "

The doctor whistled a little tune and flicked the mare again. 

"Well, I hope the young shaver won't give his mother too much trouble, "he said. "Here we are. "

A skinny little boy, who had been sliding up and down the back seat ofthe gig, sprang out and held the horse's head. Andreas went straightinto the dining-room and left the servant girl to take the doctorupstairs. He sat down, poured out some coffee, and bit through half aroll before helping himself to fish. Then he noticed there was no hotplate for the fish--the whole house was at sixes and sevens. He rang thebell, but the servant girl came in with a tray holding a bowl of soupand a hot plate. 

"I've been keeping them on the stove, " she simpered. 

"Ah, thanks, that's very kind of you. " As he swallowed the soup hisheart warmed to this fool of a girl. 

"Oh, it's a good thing Doctor Erb has come, " volunteered the servantgirl, who was bursting for want of sympathy. 

"H'm, h'm, " said Andreas. 

She waited a moment, expectantly, rolling her eyes, then in fullloathing of menkind went back to the kitchen and vowed herself tosterility. 

Andreas cleared the soup bowl, and cleared the fish. As he ate, theroom slowly darkened. A faint wind sprang up and beat the tree branchesagainst the window. The dining-room looked over the breakwater of theharbour, and the sea swung heavily in rolling waves. Wind crept roundthe house, moaning drearily. 

"We're in for a storm. That means I'm boxed up here all day. Well, there's one blessing; it'll clear the air. " He heard the servant girlrushing importantly round the house, slamming windows. Then he caught aglimpse of her in the garden, unpegging tea towels from the line acrossthe lawn. She was a worker, there was no doubt about that. He took up abook, and wheeled his arm-chair over to the window. But it was useless. Too dark to read; he didn't believe in straining his eyes, and gas atten o'clock in the morning seemed absurd. So he slipped down in thechair, leaned his elbows on the padded arms and gave himself up, foronce, to idle dreaming. "A boy? Yes, it was bound to be a boy thistime. .. " "What's your family, Binzer?" "Oh, I've two girls and a boy!"A very nice little number. Of course he was the last man to have afavourite child, but a man needed a son. "I'm working up the businessfor my son! Binzer & Son! It would mean living very tight for the nextten years, cutting expenses as fine as possible; and then--"

A tremendous gust of wind sprang upon the house, seized it, shook it, dropped, only to grip the more tightly. The waves swelled up along thebreakwater and were whipped with broken foam. Over the white sky flewtattered streamers of grey cloud. 

Andreas felt quite relieved to hear Doctor Erb coming down the stairs;he got up and lit the gas. 

"Mind if I smoke in here?" asked Doctor Erb, lighting a cigarette beforeAndreas had time to answer. "You don't smoke, do you? No time to indulgein pernicious little habits!"

"How is she now?" asked Andreas, loathing the man. 

"Oh, well as can be expected, poor little soul. She begged me to comedown and have a look at you. Said she knew you were worrying. " Withlaughing eyes the doctor looked at the breakfast-table. "Managed to pecka bit, I see, eh?"

"Hoo-wih!" shouted the wind, shaking the window-sashes. 

"Pity--this weather, " said Doctor Erb. 

"Yes, it gets on Anna's nerves, and it's just nerve she wants. "

"Eh, what's that?" retorted the doctor. "Nerve! Man alive! She's gottwice the nerve of you and me rolled into one. Nerve! she's nothingbut nerve. A woman who works as she does about the house and has threechildren in four years thrown in with the dusting, so to speak!"

He pitched his half-smoked cigarette into the fireplace and frowned atthe window. 

"Now HE'S accusing me, " thought Andreas. "That's the second timethis morning--first mother and now this man taking advantage of mysensitiveness. " He could not trust himself to speak, and rang the bellfor the servant girl. 

"Clear away the breakfast things, " he ordered. "I can't have themmessing about on the table till dinner!"

"Don't be hard on the girl, " coaxed Doctor Erb. "She's got twice thework to do to-day. "

At that Binzer's anger blazed out. 

"I'll trouble you, Doctor, not to interfere between me and my servants!"And he felt a fool at the same moment for not saying "servant. "

Doctor Erb was not perturbed. He shook his head, thrust his hands intohis pockets, and began balancing himself on toe and heel. 

"You're jagged by the weather, " he said wryly, "nothing else. A greatpity--this storm. You know climate has an immense effect upon birth. Afine day perks a woman--gives her heart for her business. Good weatheris as necessary to a confinement as it is to a washing day. Notbad--that last remark of mine--for a professional fossil, eh?"

Andreas made no reply. 

"Well, I'll be getting back to my patient. Why don't you take a walk, and clear your head? That's the idea for you. "

"No, " he answered, "I won't do that; it's too rough. "

He went back to his chair by the window. While the servant girl clearedaway he pretended to read. .. Then his dreams! It seemed years since hehad had the time to himself to dream like that--he never had a breathingspace. Saddled with work all day, and couldn't shake it off in theevening like other men. Besides, Anna was interested--they talked ofpractically nothing else together. Excellent mother she'd make for aboy; she had a grip of things. 

Church bells started ringing through the windy air, now sounding asthough from very far away, then again as though all the churches inthe town had been suddenly transplanted into their street. They stirredsomething in him, those bells, something vague and tender. Just aboutthat time Anna would call him from the hall. "Andreas, come and haveyour coat brushed. I'm ready. " Then off they would go, she hanging onhis arm, and looking up at him. She certainly was a little thing. Heremembered once saying when they were engaged, "Just as high as myheart, " and she had jumped on to a stool and pulled his head down, laughing. A kid in those days, younger than her children in nature, brighter, more "go" and "spirit" in her. The way she'd run down theroad to meet him after business! And the way she laughed when theywere looking for a house. By Jove! that laugh of hers! At the memory hegrinned, then grew suddenly grave. Marriage certainly changed a womanfar more than it did a man. Talk about sobering down. She had lost allher go in two months! Well, once this boy business was over she'd getstronger. He began to plan a little trip for them. He'd take her awayand they'd loaf about together somewhere. After all, dash it, they wereyoung still. She'd got into a groove; he'd have to force her out of it, that's all. 

He got up and went into the drawing-room, carefully shut the door andtook Anna's photograph from the top of the piano. She wore a white dresswith a big bow of some soft stuff under the chin, and stood, a littlestiffly, holding a sheaf of artificial poppies and corn in her hands. Delicate she looked even then; her masses of hair gave her that look. She seemed to droop under the heavy braids of it, and yet she wassmiling. Andreas caught his breath sharply. She was his wife--that girl. Posh! it had only been taken four years ago. He held it close to him, bent forward and kissed it. Then rubbed the glass with the back of hishand. At that moment, fainter than he had heard in the passage, moreterrifying, Andreas heard again that wailing cry. The wind caught it upin mocking echo, blew it over the house-tops, down the street, far awayfrom him. He flung out his arms, "I'm so damnably helpless, " he said, and then, to the picture, "Perhaps it's not as bad as it sounds; perhapsit is just my sensitiveness. " In the half light of the drawing-room thesmile seemed to deepen in Anna's portrait, and to become secret, evencruel. "No, " he reflected, "that smile is not at all her happiestexpression--it was a mistake to let her have it taken smiling like that. She doesn't look like my wife--like the mother of my son. " Yes, thatwas it, she did not look like the mother of a son who was going to bea partner in the firm. The picture got on his nerves; he held it indifferent lights, looked at it from a distance, sideways, spent, itseemed to Andreas afterwards, a whole lifetime trying to fit it in. The more he played with it the deeper grew his dislike of it. Thricehe carried it over to the fireplace and decided to chuck it behind theJapanese umbrella in the grate; then he thought it absurd to wastean expensive frame. There was no good in beating about the bush. Annalooked like a stranger--abnormal, a freak--it might be a picture takenjust before or after death. 

Suddenly he realised that the wind had dropped, that the whole housewas still, terribly still. Cold and pale, with a disgusting feeling thatspiders were creeping up his spine and across his face, he stood in thecentre of the drawing-room, hearing Doctor Erb's footsteps descendingthe stairs. 

He saw Doctor Erb come into the room; the room seemed to change into agreat glass bowl that spun round, and Doctor Erb seemed to swim throughthis glass bowl towards him, like a goldfish in a pearl-colouredwaistcoat. 

"My beloved wife has passed away!" He wanted to shout it out before thedoctor spoke. 

"Well, she's hooked a boy this time!" said Doctor Erb. Andreas staggeredforward. 

"Look out. Keep on your pins, " said Doctor Erb, catching Dinzer's arm, and murmuring, as he felt it, "Flabby as butter. "

A glow spread all over Andreas. He was exultant. 

"Well, by God! Nobody can accuse ME of not knowing what suffering is, "he said. 

10. THE CHILD-WHO-WAS-TIRED. 

She was just beginning to walk along a little white road with tallblack trees on either side, a little road that led to nowhere, andwhere nobody walked at all, when a hand gripped her shoulder, shook her, slapped her ear. 

"Oh, oh, don't stop me, " cried the Child-Who-Was-Tired. "Let me go. "

"Get up, you good-for-nothing brat, " said a voice; "get up and light theoven or I'll shake every bone out of your body. "

With an immense effort she opened her eyes, and saw the Frau standingby, the baby bundled under one arm. The three other children who sharedthe same bed with the Child-Who-Was-Tired, accustomed to brawls, slepton peacefully. In a corner of the room the Man was fastening his braces. 

"What do you mean by sleeping like this the whole night through--like asack of potatoes? You've let the baby wet his bed twice. "

She did not answer, but tied her petticoat string, and buttoned on herplaid frock with cold, shaking fingers. 

"There, that's enough. Take the baby into the kitchen with you, and heatthat cold coffee on the spirit lamp for the master, and give him theloaf of black bread out of the table drawer. Don't guzzle it yourself orI'll know. "

The Frau staggered across the room, flung herself on to her bed, drawingthe pink bolster round her shoulders. 

It was almost dark in the kitchen. She laid the baby on the woodensettle, covering him with a shawl, then poured the coffee from theearthenware jug into the saucepan, and set it on the spirit lamp toboil. 

"I'm sleepy, " nodded the Child-Who-Was-Tired, kneeling on the floorand splitting the damp pine logs into little chips. "That's why I'm notawake. "

The oven took a long time to light. Perhaps it was cold, like herself, and sleepy. .. Perhaps it had been dreaming of a little white road withblack trees on either side, a little road that led to nowhere. 

Then the door was pulled violently open and the Man strode in. 

"Here, what are you doing, sitting on the floor?" he shouted. "Give memy coffee. I've got to be off. Ugh! You haven't even washed over thetable. "

She sprang to her feet, poured his coffee into an enamel cup, and gavehim bread and a knife, then, taking a wash rag from the sink, smearedover the black linoleumed table. 

"Swine of a day--swine's life, " mumbled the Man, sitting by the tableand staring out of the window at the bruised sky, which seemed to bulgeheavily over the dull land. He stuffed his mouth with bread and thenswilled it down with the coffee. 

The Child drew a pail of water, turned up her sleeves, frowning thewhile at her arms, as if to scold them for being so thin, so much likelittle stunted twigs, and began to mop over the floor. 

"Stop sousing about the water while I'm here, " grumbled the Man. "Stopthe baby snivelling; it's been going on like that all night. "

The Child gathered the baby into her lap and sat rocking him. 

"Ts--ts--ts, " she said. "He's cutting his eye teeth, that's what makeshim cry so. AND dribble--I never seen a baby dribble like this one. " Shewiped his mouth and nose with a corner of her skirt. "Some babies gettheir teeth without you knowing it, " she went on, "and some take on thisway all the time. I once heard of a baby that died, and they found allit's teeth in its stomach. "

The Man got up, unhooked his cloak from the back of the door, and flungit round him. 

"There's another coming, " said he. 

"What--a tooth!" exclaimed the Child, startled for the first time thatmorning out of her dreadful heaviness, and thrusting her finger into thebaby's mouth. 

"No, " he said grimly, "another baby. Now, get on with your work; it'stime the others got up for school. " She stood a moment quite silently, hearing his heavy steps on the stone passage, then the gravel walk, andfinally the slam of the front gate. 

"Another baby! Hasn't she finished having them YET?" thought theChild. "Two babies getting eye teeth--two babies to get up for in thenight--two babies to carry about and wash their little piggy clothes!"She looked with horror at the one in her arms, who, seeming tounderstand the contemptuous loathing of her tired glance, doubled hisfists, stiffened his body, and began violently screaming. 

"Ts--ts--ts. " She laid him on the settle and went back to herfloor-washing. He never ceased crying for a moment, but she got quiteused to it and kept time with her broom. Oh, how tired she was! Oh, theheavy broom handle and the burning spot just at the back of her neckthat ached so, and a funny little fluttering feeling just at the back ofher waistband, as though something were going to break. 

The clock struck six. She set the pan of milk in the oven, and went intothe next room to wake and dress the three children. Anton and Hans laytogether in attitudes of mutual amity which certainly never existed outof their sleeping hours. Lena was curled up, her knees under her chin, only a straight, standing-up pigtail of hair showing above the bolster. 

"Get up, " cried the Child, speaking in a voice of immense authority, pulling off the bedclothes and giving the boys sundry pokes and digs. "I've been calling you this last half-hour. It's late, and I'll tell onyou if you don't get dressed this minute. "

Anton awoke sufficiently to turn over and kick Hans on a tender part, whereupon Hans pulled Lena's pigtail until she shrieked for her mother. 

"Oh, do be quiet, " whispered the Child. "Oh, do get up and dress. Youknow what will happen. There--I'll help you. "

But the warning came too late. The Frau got out of bed, walked in adetermined fashion into the kitchen, returning with a bundle of twigs inher hand fastened together with a strong cord. One by one she laid thechildren across her knee and severely beat them, expending a finalburst of energy on the Child-Who-Was-Tired, then returned to bed, witha comfortable sense of her maternal duties in good working order for theday. Very subdued, the three allowed themselves to be dressed and washedby the Child, who even laced the boys' boots, having found throughexperience that if left to themselves they hopped about for at leastfive minutes to find a comfortable ledge for their foot, and then spaton their hands and broke the bootlaces. 

While she gave them their breakfast they became uproarious, and the babywould not cease crying. When she filled the tin kettle with milk, tiedon the rubber teat, and, first moistening it herself, tried with littlecoaxing words to make him drink, he threw the bottle on to the floor andtrembled all over. 

"Eye teeth!" shouted Hans, hitting Anton over the head with his emptycup; "he's getting the evil-eye teeth, I should say. "

"Smarty!" retorted Lena, poking out her tongue at him, and then, when hepromptly did the same, crying at the top of her voice, "Mother, Hans ismaking faces at me!"

"That's right, " said Hans; "go on howling, and when you're in bedto-night I'll wait till you're asleep, and then I'll creep over and takea little tiny piece of your arm and twist and twist it until--" He leantover the table making the most horrible faces at Lena, not noticing thatAnton was standing behind his chair until the little boy bent over andspat on his brother's shaven head. 

"Oh, weh! oh, weh!"

The Child-Who-Was-Tired pushed and pulled them apart, muffled them intotheir coats, and drove them out of the house. 

"Hurry, hurry! the second bell's rung, " she urged, knowing perfectlywell she was telling a story, and rather exulting in the fact. Shewashed up the breakfast things, then went down to the cellar to look outthe potatoes and beetroot. 

Such a funny, cold place the coal cellar! With potatoes banked on onecorner, beetroot in an old candle box, two tubs of sauerkraut, and atwisted mass of dahlia roots--that looked as real as though they werefighting one another, thought the Child. 

She gathered the potatoes into her skirt, choosing big ones with feweyes because they were easier to peel, and bending over the dull heap inthe silent cellar, she began to nod. 

"Here, you, what are you doing down there?" cried the Frau, from the topof the stairs. "The baby's fallen off the settle, and got a bump as bigas an egg over his eye. Come up here, and I'll teach you!"

"It wasn't me--it wasn't me!" screamed the Child, beaten from one sideof the hall to the other, so that the potatoes and beetroot rolled outof her skirt. 

The Frau seemed to be as big as a giant, and there was a certainheaviness in all her movements that was terrifying to anyone so small. 

"Sit in the corner, and peel and wash the vegetables, and keep the babyquiet while I do the washing. "

Whimpering she obeyed, but as to keeping the baby quiet, that wasimpossible. His face was hot, little beads of sweat stood all over hishead, and he stiffened his body and cried. She held him on her knees, with a pan of cold water beside her for the cleaned vegetables and the"ducks' bucket" for the peelings. 

"Ts--ts--ts!" she crooned, scraping and boring; "there's going to beanother soon, and you can't both keep on crying. Why don't you go tosleep, baby? I would, if I were you. I'll tell you a dream. Once upon atime there was a little white road--"

She shook back her head, a great lump ached in her throat and then thetears ran down her face on to the vegetables. 

"That's no good, " said the Child, shaking them away. "Just stop cryinguntil I've finished this, baby, and I'll walk you up and down. "

But by that time she had to peg out the washing for the Frau. A wind hadsprung up. Standing on tiptoe in the yard, she almost felt she would beblown away. There was a bad smell coming from the ducks' coop, whichwas half full of manure water, but away in the meadow she saw the grassblowing like little green hairs. And she remembered having heard of achild who had once played for a whole day in just such a meadowwith real sausages and beer for her dinner--and not a little bit oftiredness. Who had told her that story? She could not remember, and yetit was so plain. 

The wet clothes flapped in her face as she pegged them; danced andjigged on the line, bulged out and twisted. She walked back to the housewith lagging steps, looking longingly at the grass in the meadow. 

"What must I do now, please?" she said. 

"Make the beds and hang the baby's mattress out of the window, then getthe wagon and take him for a little walk along the road. In front of thehouse, mind--where I can see you. Don't stand there, gaping! Then comein when I call you and help me cut up the salad. "

When she had made the beds the Child stood and looked at them. Gentlyshe stroked the pillow with her hand, and then, just for one moment, lether head rest there. Again the smarting lump in her throat, the stupidtears that fell and kept on falling as she dressed the baby and draggedthe little wagon up and down the road. 

A man passed, driving a bullock wagon. He wore a long, queer featherin his hat, and whistled as he passed. Two girls with bundles on theirshoulders came walking out of the village--one wore a red handkerchiefabout her head and one a blue. They were laughing and holding eachother by the hand. Then the sun pushed by a heavy fold of grey cloud andspread a warm yellow light over everything. 

"Perhaps, " thought the Child-Who-Was-Tired, "if I walked far enough upthis road I might come to a little white one, with tall black trees oneither side--a little road--"

"Salad, salad!" cried the Frau's voice from the house. 

Soon the children came home from school, dinner was eaten, the Man tookthe Frau's share of pudding as well as his own, and the three childrenseemed to smear themselves all over with whatever they ate. Then moredish-washing and more cleaning and baby-minding. So the afternoondragged coldly through. 

Old Frau Grathwohl came in with a fresh piece of pig's flesh for theFrau, and the Child listened to them gossiping together. 

"Frau Manda went on her 'journey to Rome' last night, and brought back adaughter. How are you feeling?"

"I was sick twice this morning, " said the Frau. "My insides are alltwisted up with having children too quickly. "

"I see you've got a new help, " commented old Mother Grathwohl. 

"Oh, dear Lord"--the Frau lowered her voice--"don't you know her? She'sthe free-born one--daughter of the waitress at the railway station. Theyfound her mother trying to squeeze her head in the wash-hand jug, andthe child's half silly. "

"Ts--ts--ts!" whispered the "free-born" one to the baby. 

As the day drew in the Child-Who-Was-Tired did not know how to fight hersleepiness any longer. She was afraid to sit down or stand still. As shesat at supper the Man and the Frau seemed to swell to an immense size asshe watched them, and then become smaller than dolls, with little voicesthat seemed to come from outside the window. Looking at the baby, itsuddenly had two heads, and then no head. Even his crying made her feelworse. When she thought of the nearness of bedtime she shook all overwith excited joy. But as eight o'clock approached there was the soundof wheels on the road, and presently in came a party of friends to spendthe evening. 

Then it was:

"Put on the coffee. "

"Bring me the sugar tin. "

"Carry the chairs out of the bedroom. "

"Set the table. "

And, finally, the Frau sent her into the next room to keep the babyquiet. 

There was a little piece of candle burning in the enamel bracket. Asshe walked up and down she saw her great big shadow on the wall like agrown-up person with a grown-up baby. Whatever would it look like whenshe carried two babies so!

"Ts--ts--ts! Once upon a time she was walking along a little whiteroad, with oh! such great big black trees on either side. "

"Here you!" called the Frau's voice, "bring me my new jacket from behindthe door. " And as she took it into the warm room one of the women said, "She looks like an owl. Such children are seldom right in their heads. "

"Why don't you keep that baby quiet?" said the Man, who had just drunkenough beer to make him feel very brave and master of his house. 

"If you don't keep that baby quiet you'll know why later on. "

They burst out laughing as she stumbled back into the bedroom. 

"I don't believe Holy Mary could keep him quiet, " she murmured. "DidJesus cry like this when He was little? If I was not so tired perhapsI could do it; but the baby just knows that I want to go to sleep. Andthere is going to be another one. "

She flung the baby on the bed, and stood looking at him with terror. 

From the next room there came the jingle of glasses and the warm soundof laughter. 

And she suddenly had a beautiful marvellous idea. 

She laughed for the first time that day, and clapped her hands. 

"Ts--ts--ts!" she said, "lie there, silly one; you WILL go to sleep. You'll not cry any more or wake up in the night. Funny, little, uglybaby. "

He opened his eyes, and shrieked loudly at the sight of theChild-Who-Was-Tired. From the next room she heard the Frau call out toher. 

"One moment--he is almost asleep, " she cried. 

And then gently, smiling, on tiptoe, she brought the pink bolster fromthe Frau's bed and covered the baby's face with it, pressed with all hermight as he struggled, "like a duck with its head off, wriggling", shethought. 

She heaved a long sigh, then fell back on to the floor, and was walkingalong a little white road with tall black trees on either side, a littleroad that led to nowhere, and where nobody walked at all--nobody at all. 

11. THE ADVANCED LADY. 

"Do you think we might ask her to come with us, " said Fraulein Elsa, retying her pink sash ribbon before my mirror. "You know, although sheis so intellectual, I cannot help feeling convinced that she has somesecret sorrow. And Lisa told me this morning, as she was turning out myroom, that she remains hours and hours by herself, writing; in fact Lisasays she is writing a book! I suppose that is why she never cares tomingle with us, and has so little time for her husband and the child. "

"Well, YOU ask her, " said I. "I have never spoken to the lady. "

Elsa blushed faintly. "I have only spoken to her once, " she confessed. "I took her a bunch of wild flowers, to her room, and she came to thedoor in a white gown, with her hair loose. Never shall I forget thatmoment. She just took the flowers, and I heard her--because the doorwas not quite properly shut--I heard her, as I walked down the passage, saying 'Purity, fragrance, the fragrance of purity and the purity offragrance!' It was wonderful!"

At that moment Frau Kellermann knocked at the door. 

"Are you ready?" she said, coming into the room and nodding to us verygenially. "The gentlemen are waiting on the steps, and I have asked theAdvanced Lady to come with us. "

"Na, how extraordinary!" cried Elsa. "But this moment the gnadige Frauand I were debating whether--"

"Yes, I met her coming out of her room and she said she was charmedwith the idea. Like all of us, she has never been to Schlingen. Sheis downstairs now, talking to Herr Erchardt. I think we shall have adelightful afternoon. "

"Is Fritzi waiting too?" asked Elsa. 

"Of course he is, dear child--as impatient as a hungry man listening forthe dinner bell. Run along!"

Elsa ran, and Frau Kellermann smiled at me significantly. In the pastshe and I had seldom spoken to each other, owing to the fact that her"one remaining joy"--her charming little Karl--had never succeeded inkindling into flame those sparks of maternity which are supposed to glowin great numbers upon the altar of every respectable female heart;but, in view of a premeditated journey together, we became delightfullycordial. 

"For us, " she said, "there will be a double joy. We shall be able towatch the happiness of these two dear children, Elsa and Fritz. Theyonly received the letters of blessing from their parents yesterdaymorning. It is a very strange thing, but whenever I am in the companyof newly-engaged couples I blossom. Newly-engaged couples, mothers withfirst babies, and normal deathbeds have precisely the same effect on me. Shall we join the others?"

I was longing to ask her why normal deathbeds should cause anyone toburst into flower, and said, "Yes, do let us. "

We were greeted by the little party of "cure guests" on the pensionsteps, with those cries of joy and excitement which herald so pleasantlythe mildest German excursion. Herr Erchardt and I had not met beforethat day, so, in accordance with strict pension custom, we asked eachother how long we had slept during the night, had we dreamed agreeably, what time we had got up, was the coffee fresh when we had appeared atbreakfast, and how had we passed the morning. Having toiled up thesestairs of almost national politeness we landed, triumphant and smiling, and paused to recover breath. 

"And now, " said Herr Erchardt, "I have a pleasure in store for you. TheFrau Professor is going to be one of us for the afternoon. Yes, " noddinggraciously to the Advanced Lady. "Allow me to introduce you to eachother. "

We bowed very formally, and looked each other over with that eye whichis known as "eagle" but is far more the property of the female thanthat most unoffending of birds. "I think you are English?" she said. I acknowledged the fact. "I am reading a great many English books justnow--rather, I am studying them. "

"Nu, " cried Herr Erchardt. "Fancy that! What a bond already! I have madeup my mind to know Shakespeare in his mother tongue before I die, butthat you, Frau Professor, should be already immersed in those wells ofEnglish thought!"

"From what I have read, " she said, "I do not think they are very deepwells. "

He nodded sympathetically. 

"No, " he answered, "so I have heard. .. But do not let us embitter ourexcursion for our little English friend. We will speak of this anothertime. "

"Nu, are we ready?" cried Fritz, who stood, supporting Elsa's elbow inhis hand, at the foot of the steps. It was immediately discovered thatKarl was lost. 

"Ka--rl, Karl--chen!" we cried. No response. 

"But he was here one moment ago, " said Herr Langen, a tired, pale youth, who was recovering from a nervous breakdown due to much philosophy andlittle nourishment. "He was sitting here, picking out the works of hiswatch with a hairpin!"

Frau Kellermann rounded on him. "Do you mean to say, my dear HerrLangen, you did not stop the child!"

"No, " said Herr Langen; "I've tried stopping him before now. "

"Da, that child has such energy; never is his brain at peace. If he isnot doing one thing, he is doing another!"

"Perhaps he has started on the dining-room clock now, " suggested HerrLangen, abominably hopeful. 

The Advanced Lady suggested that we should go without him. "I nevertake my little daughter for walks, " she said. "I have accustomed her tositting quietly in my bedroom from the time I go out until I return!"

"There he is--there he is, " piped Elsa, and Karl was observed slitheringdown a chestnut-tree, very much the worse for twigs. 

"I've been listening to what you said about me, mumma, " he confessedwhile Frau Kellermann brushed him down. "It was not true about thewatch. I was only looking at it, and the little girl never stays in thebedroom. She told me herself she always goes down to the kitchen, and--"

"Da, that's enough!" said Frau Kellermann. 

We marched en masse along the station road. It was a very warmafternoon, and continuous parties of "cure guests", who were givingtheir digestions a quiet airing in pension gardens, called after us, asked if we were going for a walk, and cried "Herr Gott--happy journey"with immense ill-concealed relish when we mentioned Schlingen. 

"But that is eight kilometres, " shouted one old man with a white beard, who leaned against a fence, fanning himself with a yellow handkerchief. 

"Seven and a half, " answered Herr Erchardt shortly. 

"Eight, " bellowed the sage. 

"Seven and a half!"

"Eight!"

"The man is mad, " said Herr Erchardt. 

"Well, please let him be mad in peace, " said I, putting my hands over myears. 

"Such ignorance must not be allowed to go uncontradicted, " said he, andturning his back on us, too exhausted to cry out any longer, he held upseven and a half fingers. 

"Eight!" thundered the greybeard, with pristine freshness. 

We felt very sobered, and did not recover until we reached a whitesignpost which entreated us to leave the road and walk through the fieldpath--without trampling down more of the grass than was necessary. Beinginterpreted, it meant "single file", which was distressing for Elsa andFritz. Karl, like a happy child, gambolled ahead, and cut down as manyflowers as possible with the stick of his mother's parasol--followedthe three others--then myself--and the lovers in the rear. And above theconversation of the advance party I had the privilege of hearing thesedelicious whispers. 

Fritz: "Do you love me?" Elsa: "Nu--yes. " Fritz passionately: "But howmuch?" To which Elsa never replied--except with "How much do YOU loveME?"

Fritz escaped that truly Christian trap by saying, "I asked you first. "

It grew so confusing that I slipped in front of Frau Kellermann--andwalked in the peaceful knowledge that she was blossoming and I was underno obligation to inform even my nearest and dearest as to the precisecapacity of my affections. "What right have they to ask each othersuch questions the day after letters of blessing have been received?" Ireflected. "What right have they even to question each other? Love whichbecomes engaged and married is a purely affirmative affair--they areusurping the privileges of their betters and wisers!"

The edges of the field frilled over into an immense pine forest--verypleasant and cool it looked. Another signpost begged us to keep to thebroad path for Schlingen and deposit waste paper and fruit peelings inwire receptacles attached to the benches for the purpose. We sat downon the first bench, and Karl with great curiosity explored the wirereceptacle. 

"I love woods, " said the Advanced Lady, smiling pitifully into the air. "In a wood my hair already seems to stir and remember something of itssavage origin. "

"But speaking literally, " said Frau Kellermann, after an appreciativepause, "there is really nothing better than the air of pine-trees forthe scalp. "

"Oh, Frau Kellermann, please don't break the spell, " said Elsa. 

The Advanced Lady looked at her very sympathetically. "Have you, too, found the magic heart of Nature?" she said. 

That was Herr Langen's cue. "Nature has no heart, " said he, verybitterly and readily, as people do who are over-philosophised andunderfed. "She creates that she may destroy. She eats that she may spewup and she spews up that she may eat. That is why we, who are forced toeke out an existence at her trampling feet, consider the world mad, andrealise the deadly vulgarity of production. "

"Young man, " interrupted Herr Erchardt, "you have never lived and youhave never suffered!"

"Oh, excuse me--how can you know?"

"I know because you have told me, and there's an end of it. Come back tothis bench in ten years' time and repeat those words to me, " said FrauKellermann, with an eye upon Fritz, who was engaged in counting Elsa'sfingers with passionate fervour--"and bring with you your young wife, Herr Langen, and watch, perhaps, your little child playing with--" Sheturned towards Karl, who had rooted an old illustrated paper out of thereceptacle and was spelling over an advertisement for the enlargement ofBeautiful Breasts. 

The sentence remained unfinished. We decided to move on. As we plungedmore deeply into the wood our spirits rose--reaching a point where theyburst into song--on the part of the three men--"O Welt, wie bist duwunderbar!"--the lower part of which was piercingly sustained by HerrLangen, who attempted quite unsuccessfully to infuse satire into it inaccordance with his--"world outlook". They strode ahead and left us totrail after them--hot and happy. 

"Now is the opportunity, " said Frau Kellermann. "Dear Frau Professor, dotell us a little about your book. "

"Ach, how did you know I was writing one?" she cried playfully. 

"Elsa, here, had it from Lisa. And never before have I personally knowna woman who was writing a book. How do you manage to find enough towrite down?"

"That is never the trouble, " said the Advanced Lady--she took Elsa's armand leaned on it gently. "The trouble is to know where to stop. My brainhas been a hive for years, and about three months ago the pent-up watersburst over my soul, and since then I am writing all day until late intothe night, still ever finding fresh inspirations and thoughts which beatimpatient wings about my heart. "

"Is it a novel?" asked Elsa shyly. 

"Of course it is a novel, " said I. 

"How can you be so positive?" said Frau Kellermann, eyeing me severely. 

"Because nothing but a novel could produce an effect like that. "

"Ach, don't quarrel, " said the Advanced Lady sweetly. "Yes, it is anovel--upon the Modern Woman. For this seems to me the woman's hour. It is mysterious and almost prophetic, it is the symbol of the trueadvanced woman: not one of those violent creatures who deny their sexand smother their frail wings under. .. Under--"

"The English tailor-made?" from Frau Kellermann. 

"I was not going to put it like that. Rather, under the lying garb offalse masculinity!"

"Such a subtle distinction!" I murmured. 

"Whom then, " asked Fraulein Elsa, looking adoringly at the AdvancedLady--"whom then do you consider the true woman?"

"She is the incarnation of comprehending Love!"

"But my dear Frau Professor, " protested Frau Kellermann, "you mustremember that one has so few opportunities for exhibiting Love withinthe family circle nowadays. One's husband is at business all day, andnaturally desires to sleep when he returns home--one's children are outof the lap and in at the university before one can lavish anything atall upon them!"

"But Love is not a question of lavishing, " said the Advanced Lady. "It is the lamp carried in the bosom touching with serene rays all theheights and depths of--"

"Darkest Africa, " I murmured flippantly. 

She did not hear. 

"The mistake we have made in the past--as a sex, " said she, "is in notrealising that our gifts of giving are for the whole world--we are theglad sacrifice of ourselves!"

"Oh!" cried Elsa rapturously, and almost bursting into gifts as shebreathed--"how I know that! You know ever since Fritz and I have beenengaged, I share the desire to give to everybody, to share everything!"

"How extremely dangerous, " said I. 

"It is only the beauty of danger, or the danger of beauty" said theAdvanced Lady--"and there you have the ideal of my book--that woman isnothing but a gift. "

I smiled at her very sweetly. "Do you know, " I said, "I, too, would liketo write a book, on the advisability of caring for daughters, and takingthem for airings and keeping them out of kitchens!"

I think the masculine element must have felt these angry vibrations:they ceased from singing, and together we climbed out of the wood, tosee Schlingen below us, tucked in a circle of hills, the white housesshining in the sunlight, "for all the world like eggs in a bird's nest", as Herr Erchardt declared. We descended upon Schlingen and demanded sourmilk with fresh cream and bread at the Inn of the Golden Stag, a mostfriendly place, with tables in a rose-garden where hens and chickensran riot--even flopping upon the disused tables and pecking at thered checks on the cloths. We broke the bread into the bowls, added thecream, and stirred it round with flat wooden spoons, the landlord andhis wife standing by. 

"Splendid weather!" said Herr Erchardt, waving his spoon at thelandlord, who shrugged his shoulders. 

"What! you don't call it splendid!"

"As you please, " said the landlord, obviously scorning us. 

"Such a beautiful walk, " said Fraulein Elsa, making a free gift of hermost charming smile to the landlady. 

"I never walk, " said the landlady; "when I go to Mindelbau my man drivesme--I've more important things to do with my legs than walk them throughthe dust!"

"I like these people, " confessed Herr Langen to me. "I like them very, very much. I think I shall take a room here for the whole summer. "

"Why?"

"Oh, because they live close to the earth, and therefore despise it. "

He pushed away his bowl of sour milk and lit a cigarette. We ate, solidly and seriously, until those seven and a half kilometres toMindelbau stretched before us like an eternity. Even Karl's activitybecame so full fed that he lay on the ground and removed his leatherwaistbelt. Elsa suddenly leaned over to Fritz and whispered, who onhearing her to the end and asking her if she loved him, got up and madea little speech. 

"We--we wish to celebrate our betrothal by--by--asking you all to driveback with us in the landlord's cart--if--it will hold us!"

"Oh, what a beautiful, noble idea!" said Frau Kellermann, heaving a sighof relief that audibly burst two hooks. 

"It is my little gift, " said Elsa to the Advanced Lady, who by virtue ofthree portions almost wept tears of gratitude. 

Squeezed into the peasant cart and driven by the landlord, who showedhis contempt for mother earth by spitting savagely every now and again, we jolted home again, and the nearer we came to Mindelbau the more weloved it and one another. 

"We must have many excursions like this, " said Herr Erchardt to me, "forone surely gets to know a person in the simple surroundings of the openair--one SHARES the same joys--one feels friendship. What is it yourShakespeare says? One moment, I have it. The friends thou hast, andtheir adoption tried--grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel!"

"But, " said I, feeling very friendly towards him, "the bother about mysoul is that it refuses to grapple anybody at all--and I am sure thatthe dead weight of a friend whose adoption it had tried would kill itimmediately. Never yet has it shown the slightest sign of a hoop!"

He bumped against my knees and excused himself and the cart. 

"My dear little lady, you must not take the quotation literally. Naturally, one is not physically conscious of the hoops; but hoopsthere are in the soul of him or her who loves his fellow-men. .. Take thisafternoon, for instance. How did we start out? As strangers you mightalmost say, and yet--all of us--how have we come home?"

"In a cart, " said the only remaining joy, who sat upon his mother's lapand felt sick. 

We skirted the field that we had passed through, going round by thecemetery. Herr Langen leaned over the edge of the seat and greeted thegraves. He was sitting next to the Advanced Lady--inside the shelter ofher shoulder. I heard her murmur: "You look like a little boy withyour hair blowing about in the wind. " Herr Langen, slightly lessbitter--watched the last graves disappear. And I heard her murmur: "Whyare you so sad? I too am very sad sometimes--but--you look young enoughfor me to dare to say this--I--too--know of much joy!"

"What do you know?" said he. 

I leaned over and touched the Advanced Lady's hand. "Hasn't it been anice afternoon?" I said questioningly. "But you know, that theory ofyours about women and Love--it's as old as the hills--oh, older!"

From the road a sudden shout of triumph. Yes, there he was again--whitebeard, silk handkerchief and undaunted enthusiasm. 

"What did I say? Eight kilometres--it is!"

"Seven and a half!" shrieked Herr Erchardt. 

"Why, then, do you return in carts? Eight kilometres it must be. "

Herr Erchardt made a cup of his hands and stood up in the jolting cartwhile Frau Kellermann clung to his knees. "Seven and a half!"

"Ignorance must not go uncontradicted!" I said to the Advanced Lady. 

12. THE SWING OF THE PENDULUM. 

The landlady knocked at the door. 

"Come in, " said Viola. 

"There is a letter for you, " said the landlady, "a special letter"--sheheld the green envelope in a corner of her dingy apron. 

"Thanks. " Viola, kneeling on the floor, poking at the little dustystove, stretched out her hand. "Any answer?"

"No; the messenger has gone. "

"Oh, all right!" She did not look the landlady in the face; she wasashamed of not having paid her rent, and wondered grimly, without anyhope, if the woman would begin to bluster again. 

"About this money owing to me--" said the landlady. 

"Oh, the Lord--off she goes!" thought Viola, turning her back on thewoman and making a grimace at the stove. 

"It's settle--or it's go!" The landlady raised her voice; she beganto bawl. "I'm a landlady, I am, and a respectable woman, I'll haveyou know. I'll have no lice in my house, sneaking their way into thefurniture and eating up everything. It's cash--or out you go beforetwelve o'clock to-morrow. "

Viola felt rather than saw the woman's gesture. She shot out her arm ina stupid helpless way, as though a dirty pigeon had suddenly flownat her face. "Filthy old beast! Ugh! And the smell of her--like stalecheese and damp washing. "

"Very well!" she answered shortly; "it's cash down or I leave to-morrow. All right: don't shout. "

It was extraordinary--always before this woman came near her shetrembled in her shoes--even the sound of those flat feet stumping upthe stairs made her feel sick, but once they were face to face she feltimmensely calm and indifferent, and could not understand why she evenworried about money, nor why she sneaked out of the house on tiptoe, noteven daring to shut the door after her in case the landlady should hearand shout something terrible, nor why she spent nights pacing up anddown her room--drawing up sharply before the mirror and saying to atragic reflection: "Money, money, money!" When she was alone herpoverty was like a huge dream-mountain on which her feet were fastrooted--aching with the ache of the size of the thing--but if it cameto definite action, with no time for imaginings, her dream-mountaindwindled into a beastly "hold-your-nose" affair, to be passed as quicklyas possible, with anger and a strong sense of superiority. 

The landlady bounced out of the room, banging the door, so that it shookand rattled as though it had listened to the conversation and fullysympathised with the old hag. 

Squatting on her heels, Viola opened the letter. It was from Casimir:

"I shall be with you at three o'clock this afternoon--and must be offagain this evening. All news when we meet. I hope you are happier thanI. --CASIMIR. "

"Huh! how kind!" she sneered; "how condescending. Too good of you, really!" She sprang to her feet, crumbling the letter in her hands. "Andhow are you to know that I shall stick here awaiting your pleasure untilthree o'clock this afternoon?" But she knew she would; her rage was onlyhalf sincere. She longed to see Casimir, for she was confident that thistime she would make him understand the situation. .. "For, as it is, it'sintolerable--intolerable!" she muttered. 

It was ten o'clock in the morning of a grey day curiously lighted bypale flashes of sunshine. Searched by these flashes her room lookedtumbled and grimed. She pulled down the window-blinds--but they gave apersistent, whitish glare which was just as bad. The only thing of lifein the room was a jar of hyacinths given her by the landlady's daughter:it stood on the table exuding a sickly perfume from its plump petals;there were even rich buds unfolding, and the leaves shone like oil. 

Viola went over to the washstand, poured some water into the enamelbasin, and sponged her face and neck. She dipped her face into thewater, opened her eyes, and shook her head from side to side--it wasexhilarating. She did it three times. "I suppose I could drown myself ifI stayed under long enough, " she thought. "I wonder how long it takes tobecome unconscious?. .. Often read of women drowning in a bucket. I wonderif any air enters by the ears--if the basin would have to be as deep asa bucket?" She experimented--gripped the washstand with both hands andslowly sank her head into the water, when again there was a knock on thedoor. Not the landlady this time--it must be Casimir. With her face andhair dripping, with her petticoat bodice unbuttoned, she ran and openedit. 

A strange man stood against the lintel--seeing her, he opened his eyesvery wide and smiled delightfully. "Excuse me--does Fraulein Schaferlive here?"

"No; never heard of her. " His smile was so infectious, she wanted tosmile too--and the water had made her feel so fresh and rosy. 

The strange man appeared overwhelmed with astonishment. "She doesn't?"he cried. "She is out, you mean!"

"No, she's not living here, " answered Viola. 

"But--pardon--one moment. " He moved from the door lintel, standingsquarely in front of her. He unbuttoned his greatcoat and drew a slip ofpaper from the breast pocket, smoothing it in his gloved fingers beforehanding it to her. 

"Yes, that's the address, right enough, but there must be a mistakein the number. So many lodging-houses in this street, you know, and sobig. "

Drops of water fell from her hair on to the paper. She burst outlaughing. "Oh, HOW dreadful I must look--one moment!" She ran back tothe washstand and caught up a towel. The door was still open. .. Afterall, there was nothing more to be said. Why on earth had she asked himto wait a moment? She folded the towel round her shoulders, and returnedto the door, suddenly grave. "I'm sorry; I know no such name" in a sharpvoice. 

Said the strange man: "Sorry, too. Have you been living here long?"

"Er--yes--a long time. " She began to close the door slowly. 

"Well--good-morning, thanks so much. Hope I haven't been a bother. "

"Good-morning. "

She heard him walk down the passage and then pause--lighting acigarette. Yes--a faint scent of delicious cigarette smoke penetratedher room. She sniffed at it, smiling again. Well, that had been afascinating interlude! He looked so amazingly happy: his heavy clothesand big buttoned gloves; his beautifully brushed hair. .. And thatsmile. .. "Jolly" was the word--just a well-fed boy with the world for hisplayground. People like that did one good--one felt "made over" at thesight of them. SANE they were--so sane and solid. You could depend onthem never having one mad impulse from the day they were born untilthe day they died. And Life was in league with them--jumped them on herknee--quite rightly, too. At that moment she noticed Casimir's letter, crumpled up on the floor--the smile faded. Staring at the letter shebegan braiding her hair--a dull feeling of rage crept through her--sheseemed to be braiding it into her brain, and binding it, tightly, aboveher head. .. Of course that had been the mistake all along. What had? Oh, Casimir's frightful seriousness. If she had been happy when they firstmet she never would have looked at him--but they had been like twopatients in the same hospital ward--each finding comfort in the sicknessof the other--sweet foundation for a love episode! Misfortune hadknocked their heads together: they had looked at each other, stunnedwith the conflict and sympathised. .. "I wish I could step outside thewhole affair and just judge it--then I'd find a way out. I certainly wasin love with Casimir. .. Oh, be sincere for once. " She flopped down onthe bed and hid her face in the pillow. "I was not in love. I wantedsomebody to look after me--and keep me until my work began to sell--andhe kept bothers with other men away. And what would have happened if hehadn't come along? I would have spent my wretched little pittance, andthen--Yes, that was what decided me, thinking about that 'then. ' He wasthe only solution. And I believed in him then. I thought his work hadonly to be recognised once, and he'd roll in wealth. I thought perhapswe might be poor for a month--but he said, if only he could have me, thestimulus. .. Funny, if it wasn't so damned tragic! Exactly the contraryhas happened--he hasn't had a thing published for months--neither haveI--but then I didn't expect to. Yes, the truth is, I'm hard and bitter, and I have neither faith nor love for unsuccessful men. I always end bydespising them as I despise Casimir. I suppose it's the savage pride ofthe female who likes to think the man to whom she has given herself mustbe a very great chief indeed. But to stew in this disgusting housewhile Casimir scours the land in the hope of finding one editorial opendoor--it's humiliating. It's changed my whole nature. I wasn't born forpoverty--I only flower among really jolly people, and people who neverare worried. "

The figure of the strange man rose before her--would not be dismissed. "That was the man for me, after all is said and done--a man without acare--who'd give me everything I want and with whom I'd always feel thatsense of life and of being in touch with the world. I never wanted tofight--it was thrust on me. Really, there's a fount of happiness in me, that is drying up, little by little, in this hateful existence. I'llbe dead if this goes on--and"--she stirred in the bed and flung out herarms--"I want passion, and love, and adventure--I yearn for them. Why should I stay here and rot?--I am rotting!" she cried, comfortingherself with the sound of her breaking voice. "But if I tell Casimir allthis when he comes this afternoon, and he says, 'Go'--as he certainlywill--that's another thing I loathe about him--he's under my thumb--whatshould I do then--where should I go to?" There was nowhere. "I don'twant to work--or carve out my own path. I want ease and any amount ofnursing in the lap of luxury. There is only one thing I'm fitted for, and that is to be a great courtesan. " But she did not know how to goabout it. She was frightened to go into the streets--she heard of suchawful things happening to those women--men with diseases--or men whodidn't pay--besides, the idea of a strange man every night--no, thatwas out of the question. "If I'd the clothes I would go to a really goodhotel and find some wealthy man. .. Like the strange man this morning. He would be ideal. Oh, if I only had his address--I am sure I wouldfascinate him. I'd keep him laughing all day--I'd make him give meunlimited money. .. " At the thought she grew warm and soft. She beganto dream of a wonderful house, and of presses full of clothes andof perfumes. She saw herself stepping into carriages--looking at thestrange man with a mysterious, voluptuous glance--she practised theglance, lying on the bed--and never another worry, just drugged withhappiness. That was the life for her. Well, the thing to do was tolet Casimir go on his wild-goose chase that evening, and while he wasaway--What! Also--please to remember--there was the rent to be paidbefore twelve next morning, and she hadn't the money for a squaremeal. At the thought of food she felt a sharp twinge in her stomach, asensation as though there were a hand in her stomach, squeezing it dry. She was terribly hungry--all Casimir's fault--and that man had lived onthe fat of the land ever since he was born. He looked as though hecould order a magnificent dinner. Oh, why hadn't she played her cardsbetter?--he'd been sent by Providence--and she'd snubbed him. "If I hadthat time over again, I'd be safe by now. " And instead of the ordinaryman who had spoken with her at the door her mind created a brilliant, laughing image, who would treat her like a queen. .. "There's only onething I could not stand--that he should be coarse or vulgar. Well, he wasn't--he was obviously a man of the world, and the way heapologised. .. I have enough faith in my own power and beauty to know Icould make a man treat me just as I wanted to be treated. ". .. It floatedinto her dreams--that sweet scent of cigarette smoke. And then sheremembered that she had heard nobody go down the stone stairs. Was itpossible that the strange man was still there?. .. The thought was tooabsurd--Life didn't play tricks like that--and yet--she was quiteconscious of his nearness. Very quietly she got up, unhooked from theback of the door a long white gown, buttoned it on--smiling slyly. Shedid not know what was going to happen. She only thought: "Oh, what fun!"and that they were playing a delicious game--this strange man and she. Very gently she turned the door-handle, screwing up her face and bitingher lip as the lock snapped back. Of course, there he was--leaningagainst the banister rail. He wheeled round as she slipped into thepassage. 

"Da, " she muttered, folding her gown tightly around her, "I must godownstairs and fetch some wood. Brr! the cold!"

"There isn't any wood, " volunteered the strange man. She gave a littlecry of astonishment, and then tossed her head. 

"You again, " she said scornfully, conscious the while of his merry eye, and the fresh, strong smell of his healthy body. 

"The landlady shouted out there was no wood left. I just saw her go outto buy some. "

"Story--story!" she longed to cry. He came quite close to her, stoodover her and whispered:

"Aren't you going to ask me to finish my cigarette in your room?"

She nodded. "You may if you want to!"

In that moment together in the passage a miracle had happened. Her roomwas quite changed--it was full of sweet light and the scent of hyacinthflowers. Even the furniture appeared different--exciting. Quick as aflash she remembered childish parties when they had played charades, andone side had left the room and come in again to act a word--just whatshe was doing now. The strange man went over to the stove and sat downin her arm-chair. She did not want him to talk or come near her--it wasenough to see him in the room, so secure and happy. How hungry she hadbeen for the nearness of someone like that--who knew nothing at allabout her--and made no demands--but just lived. Viola ran over to thetable and put her arms round the jar of hyacinths. 

"Beautiful! Beautiful!" she cried--burying her head in the flowers--andsniffing greedily at the scent. Over the leaves she looked at the manand laughed. 

"You are a funny little thing, " said he lazily. 

"Why? Because I love flowers?"

"I'd far rather you loved other things, " said the strange man slowly. She broke off a little pink petal and smiled at it. 

"Let me send you some flowers, " said the strange man. "I'll send you aroomful if you'd like them. "

His voice frightened her slightly. "Oh no, thanks--this one is quiteenough for me. "

"No, it isn't"--in a teasing voice. 

"What a stupid remark!" thought Viola, and looking at him again he didnot seem quite so jolly. She noticed that his eyes were set too closelytogether--and they were too small. Horrible thought, that he shouldprove stupid. 

"What do you do all day?" she asked hastily. 

"Nothing. "

"Nothing at all?"

"Why should I do anything?"

"Oh, don't imagine for one moment that I condemn such wisdom--only itsounds too good to be true!"

"What's that?"--he craned forward. "What sounds too good to be true?"Yes--there was no denying it--he looked silly. 

"I suppose the searching after Fraulein Schafer doesn't occupy all yourdays. "

"Oh no"--he smiled broadly--"that's very good! By Jove! no. I drive agood bit--are you keen on horses?"

She nodded. "Love them. "

"You must come driving with me--I've got a fine pair of greys. Willyou?"

"Pretty I'd look perched behind greys in my one and only hat, " thoughtshe. Aloud: "I'd love to. " Her easy acceptance pleased him. 

"How about to-morrow?" he suggested. "Suppose you have lunch with meto-morrow and I take you driving. "

After all--this was just a game. "Yes, I'm not busy to-morrow, " shesaid. 

A little pause--then the strange man patted his leg. "Why don't you comeand sit down?" he said. 

She pretended not to see and swung on to the table. "Oh, I'm all righthere. "

"No, you're not"--again the teasing voice. "Come and sit on my knee. "

"Oh no, " said Viola very heartily, suddenly busy with her hair. 

"Why not?"

"I don't want to. "

"Oh, come along"--impatiently. 

She shook her head from side to side. "I wouldn't dream of such athing. "

At that he got up and came over to her. "Funny little puss cat!" He putup one hand to touch her hair. 

"Don't, " she said--and slipped off the table. "I--I think it's time youwent now. " She was quite frightened now--thinking only: "This man mustbe got rid of as quickly as possible. "

"Oh, but you don't want me to go?"

"Yes, I do--I'm very busy. "

"Busy. What does the pussy cat do all day?"

"Lots and lots of things!" She wanted to push him out of the room andslam the door on him--idiot--fool--cruel disappointment. 

"What's she frowning for?" he asked. "Is she worried about anything?"Suddenly serious: "I say--you know, are you in any financial difficulty?Do you want money? I'll give it to you if you like!"

"Money! Steady on the brake--don't lose your head!"--so she spoke toherself. 

"I'll give you two hundred marks if you'll kiss me. "

"Oh, boo! What a condition! And I don't want to kiss you--I don't likekissing. Please go!"

"Yes--you do!--yes, you do. " He caught hold of her arms above theelbows. She struggled, and was quite amazed to realise how angry shefelt. 

"Let me go--immediately!" she cried--and he slipped one arm round herbody, and drew her towards him--like a bar of iron across her back--thatarm. 

"Leave me alone! I tell you. Don't be mean! I didn't want this to happenwhen you came into my room. How dare you?"

"Well, kiss me and I'll go!"

It was too idiotic--dodging that stupid, smiling face. 

"I won't kiss you!--you brute!--I won't!" Somehow she slipped out of hisarms and ran to the wall--stood back against it--breathing quickly. 

"Get out!" she stammered. "Go on now, clear out!"

At that moment, when he was not touching her, she quite enjoyed herself. She thrilled at her own angry voice. "To think I should talk to a manlike that!" An angry flush spread over his face--his lips curled back, showing his teeth--just like a dog, thought Viola. He made a rush ather, and held her against the wall--pressed upon her with all the weightof his body. This time she could not get free. 

"I won't kiss you. I won't. Stop doing that Ugh! you're like a dog--youought to find lovers round lamp-posts--you beast--you fiend!"

He did not answer. With an expression of the most absurd determinationhe pressed ever more heavily upon her. He did not even look at her--butrapped out in a sharp voice: "Keep quiet--keep quiet. "

"Gar--r! Why are men so strong?" She began to cry. "Go away--I don'twant you, you dirty creature. I want to murder you. Oh, my God! if I hada knife. "

"Don't be silly--come and be good!" He dragged her towards the bed. 

"Do you suppose I'm a light woman?" she snarled, and swooping over shefastened her teeth in his glove. 

"Ach! don't do that--you are hurting me!"

She did not let go, but her heart said, "Thank the Lord I thought ofthis. "

"Stop this minute--you vixen--you bitch. " He threw her away from him. She saw with joy that his eyes were full of tears. "You've really hurtme, " he said in a choking voice. 

"Of course I have. I meant to. That's nothing to what I'll do if youtouch me again. "

The strange man picked up his hat. "No thanks, " he said grimly. "ButI'll not forget this--I'll go to your landlady. "

"Pooh!" She shrugged her shoulders and laughed. "I'll tell heryou forced your way in here and tried to assault me. Who will shebelieve?--with your bitten hand. You go and find your Schafers. "

A sensation of glorious, intoxicating happiness flooded Viola. Sherolled her eyes at him. "If you don't go away this moment I'll bite youagain, " she said, and the absurd words started her laughing. Even whenthe door was closed, hearing him descending the stairs, she laughed, anddanced about the room. 

What a morning! Oh, chalk it up. That was her first fight, and she'dwon--she'd conquered that beast--all by herself. Her hands were stilltrembling. She pulled up the sleeve of her gown--great red marks on herarms. "My ribs will be blue. I'll be blue all over, " she reflected. "Ifonly that beloved Casimir could have seen us. " And the feeling of rageand disgust against Casimir had totally disappeared. How could the poordarling help not having any money? It was her fault as much as his, andhe, just like her, was apart from the world, fighting it, just as shehad done. If only three o'clock would come. She saw herself runningtowards him and putting her arms round his neck. "My blessed one!Of course we are bound to win. Do you love me still? Oh, I have beenhorrible lately. "

13. A BLAZE. 

"Max, you silly devil, you'll break your neck if you go careering downthe slide that way. Drop it, and come to the Club House with me and getsome coffee. "

"I've had enough for to-day. I'm damp all through. There, give us acigarette, Victor, old man. When are you going home?"

"Not for another hour. It's fine this afternoon, and I'm getting intodecent shape. Look out, get off the track; here comes Fraulein Winkel. Damned elegant the way she manages her sleigh!"

"I'm cold all through. That's the worst of this place--the mists--it's adamp cold. Here, Forman, look after this sleigh--and stick it somewhereso that I can get it without looking through a hundred and fifty othersto-morrow morning. "

They sat down at a small round table near the stove and ordered coffee. Victor sprawled in his chair, patting his little brown dog Bobo andlooking, half laughingly, at Max. 

"What's the matter, my dear? Isn't the world being nice and pretty?"

"I want my coffee, and I want to put my feet into my pocket--they'relike stones. .. Nothing to eat, thanks--the cake is like underdoneindia-rubber here. "

Fuchs and Wistuba came and sat at their table. Max half turned his backand stretched his feet out to the oven. The three other men all begantalking at once--of the weather--of the record slide--of the finecondition of the Wald See for skating. 

Suddenly Fuchs looked at Max, raised his eyebrows and nodded across toVictor, who shook his head. 

"Baby doesn't feel well, " he said, feeding the brown dog with brokenlumps of sugar, "and nobody's to disturb him--I'm nurse. "

"That's the first time I've ever known him off colour, " said Wistuba. "I've always imagined he had the better part of this world that couldnot be taken away from him. I think he says his prayers to the dear Lordfor having spared him being taken home in seven basketsful to-night. It's a fool's game to risk your all that way and leave the nationdesolate. "

"Dry up, " said Max. "You ought to be wheeled about on the snow in aperambulator. "

"Oh, no offence, I hope. Don't get nasty. How's your wife, Victor?"

"She's not at all well. She hurt her head coming down the slide with Maxon Sunday. I told her to stay at home all day. "

"I'm sorry. Are you other fellows going back to the town or stopping onhere?"

Fuchs and Victor said they were stopping--Max did not answer, but satmotionless while the men paid for their coffee and moved away. Victorcame back a moment and put a hand on his shoulder. 

"If you're going right back, my dear, I wish you'd look Elsa up and tellher I won't be in till late. And feed with us to-night at Limpold, willyou? And take some hot grog when you get in. "

"Thanks, old fellow, I'm all right. Going back now. "

He rose, stretched himself, buttoned on his heavy coat and lightedanother cigarette. 

From the door Victor watched him plunging through the heavy snow--headbent--hands thrust in his pockets--he almost appeared to be runningthrough the heavy snow towards the town. 

. .. Someone came stamping up the stairs--paused at the door of hersitting-room, and knocked. 

"Is that you, Victor?" she called. 

"No, it is I. .. Can I come in?"

"Of course. Why, what a Santa Claus! Hang your coat on the landing andshake yourself over the banisters. Had a good time?"

The room was full of light and warmth. Elsa, in a white velvet tea-gown, lay curled up on the sofa--a book of fashions on her lap, a box ofcreams beside her. 

The curtains were not yet drawn before the windows and a blue lightshone through, and the white boughs of the trees sprayed across. 

A woman's room--full of flowers and photographs and silk pillows--thefloor smothered in rugs--an immense tiger-skin under the piano--just thehead protruding--sleepily savage. 

"It was good enough, " said Max. "Victor can't be in till late. He toldme to come up and tell you. "

He started walking up and down--tore off his gloves and flung them onthe table. 

"Don't do that, Max, " said Elsa, "you get on my nerves. And I've got aheadache to-day; I'm feverish and quite flushed. .. Don't I look flushed?"

He paused by the window and glanced at her a moment over his shoulder. 

"No, " he said; "I didn't notice it. "

"Oh, you haven't looked at me properly, and I've got a new tea-gown on, too. " She pulled her skirts together and patted a little place on thecouch. 

"Come along and sit by me and tell me why you're being naughty. "

But, standing by the window, he suddenly flung his arm across his eyes. 

"Oh, " he said, "I can't. I'm done--I'm spent--I'm smashed. "

Silence in the room. The fashion-book fell to the floor with a quickrustle of leaves. Elsa sat forward, her hands clasped in her lap; astrange light shone in her eyes, a red colour stained her mouth. 

Then she spoke very quietly. 

"Come over here and explain yourself. I don't know what on earth you aretalking about. "

"You do know--you know far better than I. You've simply played withVictor in my presence that I may feel worse. You've tormented me--you'veled me on--offering me everything and nothing at all. It's been aspider-and-fly business from first to last--and I've never for onemoment been ignorant of that--and I've never for one moment been able towithstand it. "

He turned round deliberately. 

"Do you suppose that when you asked me to pin your flowers into yourevening gown--when you let me come into your bedroom when Victor was outwhile you did your hair--when you pretended to be a baby and let me feedyou with grapes--when you have run to me and searched in all my pocketsfor a cigarette--knowing perfectly well where they were kept--goingthrough every pocket just the same--I knowing too--I keeping up thefarce--do you suppose that now you have finally lighted your bonfireyou are going to find it a peaceful and pleasant thing--you are going toprevent the whole house from burning?"

She suddenly turned white and drew in her breath sharply. 

"Don't talk to me like that. You have no right to talk to me like that. I am another man's wife. "

"Hum, " he sneered, throwing back his head, "that's rather late in thegame, and that's been your trump card all along. You only love Victor onthe cat-and-cream principle--you a poor little starved kitten that he'sgiven everything to, that he's carried in his breast, never dreamingthat those little pink claws could tear out a man's heart. "

She stirred, looking at him with almost fear in her eyes. 

"After all"--unsteadily--"this is my room; I'll have to ask you to go. "

But he stumbled towards her, knelt down by the couch, burying his headin her lap, clasping his arms round her waist. 

"And I LOVE you--I love you; the humiliation of it--I adore you. Don't--don't--just a minute let me stay here--just a moment in a wholelife--Elsa! Elsa!"

She leant back and pressed her head into the pillows. 

Then his muffled voice: "I feel like a savage. I want your whole body. I want to carry you away to a cave and love you until I kill you--youcan't understand how a man feels. I kill myself when I see you--I'm sickof my own strength that turns in upon itself, and dies, and rises newborn like a Phoenix out of the ashes of that horrible death. Love mejust this once, tell me a lie, SAY that you do--you are always lying. "

Instead, she pushed him away--frightened. 

"Get up, " she said; "suppose the servant came in with the tea?"

"Oh, ye gods!" He stumbled to his feet and stood staring down at her. 

"You're rotten to the core and so am I. But you're heathenishlybeautiful. "

The woman went over to the piano--stood there--striking one note--herbrows drawn together. Then she shrugged her shoulders and smiled. 

"I'll make a confession. Every word you have said is true. I can't helpit. I can't help seeking admiration any more than a cat can help goingto people to be stroked. It's my nature. I'm born out of my time. And yet, you know, I'm not a COMMON woman. I like men to adore me--toflatter me--even to make love to me--but I would never give myself toany man. I would never let a man kiss me. .. Even. "

"It's immeasurably worse--you've no legitimate excuse. Why, even aprostitute has a greater sense of generosity!"

"I know, " she said, "I know perfectly well--but I can't help the way I'mbuilt. .. Are you going?"

He put on his gloves. 

"Well, " he said, "what's going to happen to us now?"

Again she shrugged her shoulders. 

"I haven't the slightest idea. I never have--just let things occur. "

. .. "All alone?" cried Victor. "Has Max been here?"

"He only stayed a moment, and wouldn't even have tea. I sent him home tochange his clothes. .. He was frightfully boring. "

"You poor darling, your hair's coming down. I'll fix it, stand still amoment. .. So you were bored?"

"Um--m--frightfully. .. Oh, you've run a hairpin right into your wife'shead--you naughty boy!"

She flung her arms round his neck and looked up at him, half laughing, like a beautiful, loving child. 

"God! What a woman you are, " said the man. "You make me so infernallyproud--dearest, that I. .. I tell you!"