Forgive and forget

Chapter I

“Oh, this is beautiful — perfectly magnificent. I must take back my skeptical remarks. And I’m glad to be able to do so. You see I have changed but little. I’m always saying whatever comes into my mind, without waiting to see if my prejudices are borne out by the facts. I’m indeed surprised.”

The young man, coming leisurely out of one of the winding and bosky by-paths of the park of Castle Mannheim into the main drive, had involuntarily stood still when confronted suddenly by the splendid outlines of the castle, while the friend accompanying him smiled with a superior satisfaction.

To be sure this was the most favorable time to bring a stranger to look upon the glories of Mannheim. The red light of the sinking sun and the fresh bloom and green of spring alike threw their spell upon the massive building, which at other times and seasons might well have been called monotonous and heavy. The projecting tower, dividing the main wings, was festooned by a growth of ivy. It wreathed the long rows of closed windows with their Venetian blinds, whose white and gilt ornamentation suggested the magnificence of the interior they shut off from the outside world. Graceful garlands of the ivy hung over the arches of the entrance-way and clung to every projecting ledge of the reddish stone, glowing deeper in the light of the late sun. The distinctive charm of the view, however, was the towers and domes of the Jesuit church, rising above a group of magnificent old trees, so near to the castle that they appeared to he a continuation of the castle itself.

“Now, don’t you agree that the castle is fine at least from this point? The inteidor is notable, too, and a visit to the portrait gallery will fill a few idle hours pleasantly during the next few days.”

“The next few days! You forget that I must leave to-morrow. Considering that fact, time seems too valuable to fritter it away in some old picture galleries, which, I suppose, do not contain anything really worth while. Why, you never even mentioned the pictures at Mannheim before to-day.”

“And why should I have done so in Berlin? In the sight of your sandy wastes, ' I might have tried to picture to you the green flood of the Rhine and the lovely valleys of the N eckar, and of the gay and pleasant life, which is alien to the North. But to talk to you of picture collections in view of the treasures of the city — ^why I had almost forgotten myself that we had anything like art down here. But now that we are, for the present at least, far from the attractions of that happy time in the city, I think I could venture to show even you what we have here.”

“Yes, it was a happy time,” said the other young man, and a wistful look passed over his finely modeled face. “And I must confess, Charles, that I have often wondered since, whether it would not remain the happiest time of my life.”

“Otto!” said the other young man, startled, and looked searchingly into his friend’s face. But the momentary seriousness had even tlien given way to the customary look of bubbling gaiety, and Otto said laughingly: “Oh, well, why philosophize? Let’s do once more even as we did in Berlin, and enjoy the moment at its best?”

Then he thrust his arm through His friend’s and together they started toward the park entrance, leading to what is known as the Broad, or Neckar street, which divides the town from one end to the other.

“That’s my idea, too,” said Charles, “and so I’ll say nothing about the ‘to-morrow’ of which you spoke a moment ago, but stick to ‘to-day.’ You don’t seem to be tired, and so my plans for the rest of the day will probably he in order.”

“But I hope your program does not mean that we are to do anything except go to your room and tell each other what we have done that was wise and perhaps, too, what was foolish, since we last saw each other, and Avhat we intend to do in the near future. Time is too valuable for anything else, don’t you think so?”

“Well,” said his friend laughingly, “the two main things we have already found out about each other, involuntarily perhaps — ”

“And what are they?”

“That our friendship is still the same and—”

“And?” asked Otto, wonderingly.

“Well, that we must in some way remember our good old Professor.”

Otto stood still for a moment. “Fischer?” he said then, “you are thinking of it still? Yes, you are right, old fellow. And in gratitude for this thought, I am at your disposition for the rest of the day.”

“I am not generous enough to refuse your offer,” said Charles. “On the contrary I expect to make a very large use of your agreeableness provided you are not at all tired.” “Oh, not in the least. I rested and slept at Mainz and took in the cathedral — ^but where are you taking me ?” he asked as Charles stopped at the door of a stately corner residence. “Surely you are not living in such a palace as this seems to he?”

“Not on the first floor, that is sure,” replied Charles. “Yet I think you will like my place just the same. Won’t you come in?”

Ferns and palms and statuettes lined the hall into which they entered. A subdued light came through a high rose window and cast a mosaic of delicate lights on the stairs up which they were going. It was so quiet that it seemed as if no one else lived there. Otto involuntarily walked softly as if afraid of disturbing the awesome silence, until his friend opening a door said “Here is my Tusculum.” To be sure they had climbed up four flights of stairs. Otto looked about tbe room quickly. “Just the same as ever, except for this,” and he pointed to the tea table on which some light refreshments were laid, ready for the guest.

“You are most welcome to my own little nest. You don’t know how I have longed for this moment. Now make yourself comfortable. Refresh the outer man now, and after that the inner man may have his rights.”

A minute later the friends were sitting side by side on the old-fashioned sofa beside the tea table. “But who in the world lives in this palace besides you? There is such a distinguished air and such an aristocratic quiet that I was almost afraid to whisper outside your door.”

“A lady and a gentleman, brother and sister. They have given me this room as a special favor. Every one who knows them is astonished that they have taken me at all, as they live a very quiet and retiring life. I have been told that my presence consoles them in a measure for the absence of a nephew, whom they had raised and who left them when he was grown. But these are merely idle speculations on the part of other people. They have never said a word to me themselves, although they are very kind to me.”

“And you find them pleasant?”

“Very. They take such a lively interest in all my efforts, they have such sympathy with everything that is happening in the world in spite of their retired way of living, and, with it all, nothing that is narrow or one-sided, as is so common with people who live in seclusion, that I always look forward to the time I am to spend with them with great delight.” “Indeed!” laughed Otto. “That sounds dangerous. If I had not heard that the lady is somebody’s aunt I would insist on meeting her.”

He sprang to his feet and went to the open window. “I must see what the outlook is here. Ah, regular boulevards to the right and to the left the bridge. I like it, indeed.” Charles came to the window and explained. “We are right in the middle of the city here.

I think we’ll take a little walk along the promenade later this evening. Just now the heat is still too great for many people to be out. You will hardly meet a lady on the street.”

“A lady. Aha! That is it, my friend. Own up.”

Charles took out his wateh and looked at it unruffled. “Six o’clock. Two hours more before the concert begins. We have a little while to talk.”

“So we are to go to a concert?” asked Otto in astonishment.

“It is for a charitable purpose and is going to be very fine, so it is said. Wouldn’t you like to go?”

“To be sure. Especially as I suppose there are to be ladies there,” he added teasingly.

“Wouldn’t you find it rather tiresome if there were nothing but black coats at the concert, and if you met nothing but high hats on the promenade? But sit down again and let us talk sensibly. Tell me first of all how your people are getting along and about our friends in Berlin, and why you are going on this trip, and what your plans are for the future.”

“You have my lesson cut out for me. Well, to begin. My parents and my brother are very well. My father is still the same conscientious bureaucrat and the same easy-going family man. My mother’s health is better, and I am sure she would be quite well if she were not always forgetting herself in her care for others. It was rather hard on her to have me go away.”

Otto paused reflectively for a few moments, and a wistful look crept into his eyes. “And Henry?” asked Charles, looking at his friend searchingly.

“Oh, you would find him very much changed. The fact that he is doing well in every respect has made it easier for me to leave my parents for a considerable time.”

“And you are going — ”

“To join the North Pole expedition. Everything has been arranged. Pirker is going with me. We have great hopes. I shall explain later. My parents consented only on condition that I would take this little trip for recreation first, as a bracer to my ‘overstrained nerves,’ as they put it. Country air for a few weeks is supposed to be the needful thing. I don’t know whether I ever told you that we have friends in Bavaria. The head forester at Rauheneck, Baerens, was a college friend of my father’s. Though they have seen but little of each other since their student days they have always corresponded. This visit of mine is in response to an often expressed wish on the part of both my father and his friend. After that I expect to travel around a little in Southern Germany, for I do not fancy that the forest air, no matter how delightful it may he, will do other than fill me with a desire to turn wanderer and seek new places very soon. I hope you can arrange to take some little trips with me.”

“That would be splendid. I’ll work doubly hard so as to be free to go with you. You must come to my shop to-morrow and see my work. I have something big on hand. No, I’ll not tell you anything about it, I want to see the impression it will make on you,” he went on quickly, as Otto tried to interrupt him. “Tell me something, rather, about the old bachelor with whom you are to have your headquarters in the forest. I may come to see you there some time.”

“What bachelor? You are jumping at conclusions. He is married and has a family.”

“Married? Family? Very good, very good. That changes the whole business.

You never spoke of him, how could I tell — perhaps, for all I know, he has a pretty daughter?”

Charles uttered the words as suddenly as the thought came into his mind, and then he looked expectantly at his friend to note the impression they had made.

Otto laughed. “To be sure. He has one only daughter. Whether she is pretty is another question. According to the photograph which we have of her, and which shows her as a plump youngster of about four years standing between her parents, one would rather think not. But how you get worked up over nothing.”

In spite of the careless and laughing manner in which Otto made this explanation, his friend noted a slight embarrassment in his manner.

“Then you don’t know her at all,” he said. “I should think you would have almost unconsciously made a picture of her in your mind.”

“Oh, I do think of her as a pleasant and wholesome child of nature. But sometimes I have a fear that I may find instead the spoiled and petulant darling of fond parents, whose whims one must endure for the sake of her parents. Just think, barring six months spent with an aunt, she has never been away from home.”

“I don’t understand you, Otto. Instead of being pleased at the thought of meeting a delightful, or at least a probably delightful girl, you are turning her possible shortcomings over in your mind. For my part I think you are an unconscionably lucky fellow.”

Otto looked at his friend as if to make sure whether he was jesting or not.

“Just look at me,” Charles went on with mock pathos. “I am in dead earnest. How I would like to have such a chance to meet and become acquainted with a nice young girl! Both of us have arrived at the age when we begin to long for a pleasant and comfortable home. I am free to confess that this is true in my case at least. I am independent now and sure of a fair income, and have to ask nobody’s permission to marry, because I am all alone in the world. But how can I find an opportunity to become acquainted with young women, how gain entrance to families without being looked upon as a candidate for marriage from the very beginning, and thus be robbed of a measure of choice and liberty? I repeat, an opportunity like yours is not to be scorned.”

Charles had risen as he talked, and was walking up and down the room excitedly.

“It is always the same old story,” said Otto smilingly. “We yearn for that which we have not, or that which is hard to get. The things which circumstances offer us as a matter of course lose half their charm in that very fact. Come here and sit down beside me again. Y ou have at least given me the courage to talk a little more about this matter. I don’t mind telling you in confidence that it is the dearest wish of my parents that I should marry Carola. My mother especially is haunted by the fear that I may bring home to her as a daughter some modern society girl, who can talk about every possible subject except of the things that concern our daily needs ; who is instructed in all the arts except the one of making a comfortable home for her husband. In this regard my mother and my father, too, are still children of the good old times and look suspiciously and belittlingly upon every innovation of the age. Don’t think, however, that I agree with them in this respect. On the contrary, I am of the opinion that it is comparatively easy to acquire an understanding for the cook-book and the household, if the brain and the heart have been properly developed in other directions and the mental and moral outlook is not too limited. You know me. I wouldn’t be an exacting husband nor make excessive demands on my wife as a housekeeper. But the thought of marrying a woman, in whose presence I could never be sure that she would not make some mistake that would reveal her ignorance and her inexperience, would be unbeai'able to me.”

“Can it be that you are still thinking of Frederika von Sesenheim? The young lady whom you are going to visit has cultured parents and is undoubtedly carefully taught. I for my part agree with your parents, that it is much easier for a bright woman to acquire a social polish denied her by surroundings or opportunity in early life, than it is for a woman never trained to household order and cares to understand and learn to create the atmosphere of a comfortable and well managed home. If I found such a woman, I assure you I wouldn’t worry about her social polish. I’d trust that she’d acquire it, and if she did not it is only a secondary consideration at best.”

“That depends, Charles. In certain circles—”

“Don’t be angry with me,” replied Charles. “But just at present you seem to me like a hungry child crying for candy and refusing bread and butter. You don’t know how to appreciate a comfortable home, because you’ve never been without one. If you’d learned, as I have, what it means to wander from boarding-house to boarding-house, at the mercy of laundresses and housekeepers, and cleaning women and all the hosts of serving spirits who never serve, you’d know what a comfortable home means in a man’s life.”

Otto got up gaily. “Well spoken, bravely defended. It is particularly refreshing to find you holding such solid and stable opinions, for artists are usually credited with allowing their emotions to run away with their sense. One thing, however, is settled — we will both go to Rauheneck to-morrow. I’ll present you to my friends, and you’ll have an opportunity to become acquainted with Carola.”

“I don’t know whether I shall accept your invitation or not. It might be that we would both fall in love with her. At any rate,” he added in a lighter manner, have all the

advantages as compared to me. But we mustn’t forget the present in the contemplation of your future chances. The promenade is showing signs of lif e ; I reserve the privilege of taking up this theme after the concert. It is easier to talk about such things after the noise of the day is over and the lights are out. It seems to me almost like a profanation to discuss the young lady in sober daylight by the open window of my bachelor abode. Nevertheless I’d be willing to wager ten to one that you will find her exceedingly charming.” “And why do you think that?”

“I can’t tell you, but you’ll find that it is so.” “There is one thing about her that pleases me greatly as it is.”

“And what is that?” Charles asked expectantly.

“That her name is the feminine of that of my very best, my dearest friend.”

Charles looked at him warmly. “No one has ever been as dear to me as you, Otto,” he said, “and I believe and hope that we are to be friends for life.”

“For life, Charles. I can think of nothing ■which could part us.”

“Then I must not go to Rauheneck ■with you,” Charles said in reply. “I am beginning to feel embarrassed even now when I think of Carola, and it would really be too tragic if both of us should — ”

He did not finish, and Otto took up the thought, saying gaily: “And if it were to be

so, it should not part us. If you should prove the happier man I would devote myself with greater energy to my explorations, and you for your part, if you lost, would find peace by immortalizing and idealizing her image in your art.”

“Don’t speak so lightly, Otto. There must be something peculiar about love. Philosophy ends at this chapter.”

“Oh, yes, with weak-hearted and characterless fools. Not with real men.”

Charles looked at him dubiously.

“That is a point upon which you must make up your mind before you ever fall in love at all,” Otto went on in a superior manner. “You must never permit yourself to be governed entirely by your emotions. Reason, my friend, reason must always remain in control or you are lost. Why are there so many unhappy marriages? Because people do not use their reason at the beginning of an acquaintance. Afterward they are too much taken up with each other, and too blind to the mutual qualities to reason about anything, and by the time their eyes are really opened it is too late. Oh, if one has an anxious mother all this is made clear to you in time. Moreover, science will always be my first and dearest love. Sometimes, I think, my only love.”

“Well,” Charles put in laughingly, “I am consoling myself with the thought that theory and practice are often and usually miles apart. If it were not so, I would be sorry for your future wife.”

“On the contrary, don’t misunderstand me. My attitude can only be a gain to her. I wouldn’t make half so many demands on her as would a man who looks for all the happiness of his life in marriage.”

It had become cooler outside and a number of people were walking along under the great trees.

“I didn’t think that you could possibly have such fine shops here,” said Otto, lingering in front of the window of an art shop. “Look at those beautiful etchings. One might almost call them masterpieces.”

“You are right. I often stop here to look at one thing or another. Recently there was a very excellent — but look there, quick!” He interrupted himself while his voice sank to a whisper. “Did you ever see anything more beautiful ?”

“Where? What?” asked Otto staring at his friend.

“Look inside, quick — she is perfectly charming.”

“Who?” Otto was going to ask. But the question died on his lips, and, as if caught by a spell, his eyes, too, rested on the lovely girl who was looking at prints inside, her graceful body bent slightly over the counter. She seemed to select two of them, and, after saying a few words more to the young man who was waiting on her, turned to go. Otto looked mechanically toward the door in which the slender figure appeared a moment later. A pair of soulful dark eyes met his for a moment. But it was only for a moment. Then she turned and went around the corner into the next street.

“Did you see her? Wasn’t she the most charming blond that ever — ”

“What, a blond? A blond? She was dark. At least she had the most beautiful brown eyes that one could imagine.”

“Why, Otto — Oh, yes, that is so. She had a companion. Could you possibly mean her?”

“I don’t know. I saw but the one.”

“Why, that is fine. I, at least, saw that there were two of them. But how you could overlook the blond, I don’t understand. She was mueh larger and statelier than the other one.”

“I saw but one pair of eyes and they were very dark.”

ft’

“That may be so. I don’t know. But why didn’t we follow them, instead of standing here — ”

“May be we can still follow. It isn’t too late. Hurry,” said Otto, going around the corner. “They can hardly be twenty feet ahead of us.”

“Yes, but this town is cut up into so many short blocks. Can you see anything? Your eyes are better than mine.”

“Nothing but a light dress seems to be disappearing over there? Could that he them?”

The friends hastened their footsteps, but they found nothing, and, after following illusive figures through several blocks, they concluded to go back to their rooms and dress for the concert.

“They will be at the concert, for everybody is going to be there,” Charles said when they arrived at his room. The friends had spoken very little on the way back, as each was perhaps a little ashamed of his absorbing interest in a passing face. “For my part,” Charles went on then, “any hesitation I had between a black tie and dark gloves or a white tie and white gloves is settled. Can I help you out with one or the other?”

Otto smiled slyly and took a package of tissue paper out of his handbag.

“Ah, that’s nice,” Charles nodded. “You’re of my opinion, I see. The concert has become more important in your eyes. We’ll keep near the entrance. W e’ll surelv sret there before the ladies, for it will certainly take them longer to dress than it does us. And now come, brother.”

To their astonishment they found the large auditorium almost filled, although there was a good half hour left before the beginning of the concert. “This is painful punctuality, Charles,” said Otto. “Look at all the ladies who are already crowded up near the platform.”

“You go up toward the front. You may look at the medallion paintings in the frieze for awhile, and reconnoiter a little. I shall stay down here and watch the people coming in.”

Otto nodded. His eye-glasses Avere flashing here and there even then. No matter how hard he looked, he saw nothing but strange faces, and concluded at last that he had better look about for a seat. Charles was coming toward him. His quest, too, had been in vain.

After an introductory selection by the orchestra, there was a solemn silence and all eyes rested expectantly on the stage, which showed a fine platform.

“See, there, isn’t that one of them?” Avhispered Charles, nudging his friend, who was lost in reveries. When Otto looked up at the platf orm, he saw a tall young woman in a flowing white garment. She held a bouquet of white camellias and violets in her hand. Her dark, wavy hair was bound together by a silver fillet, its only ornament.

“She seems like a Delphic priestess, who is to announce our fate in advance,” said Otto, as he shook his head. “I am anxious to hear what she will say.”

In a fvdl and even voice, the reader began her tale. She took her audience into a quiet valley in Switzerland, whose inhabitants were still untouched by the confusion and the strife of the world outside. The words flowed from her lips as soft and pleasing as the pictures she unfolded. But her tone became more tender, more moving, as she began to speak of the love which bound two young shepherd children.

“Then it happened that a strange hunter came into the valley. He was tall of figure and slender, and his face was full of strength and gentleness. He was pleasant to all the people, but when he saw Ita his eyes shone and his cheeks took a higher color. Soon Ita’s companions and friends tAvitted her playfully about the handsome hunter. Half in jest and half in earnest, Lienhardt’s friends warned him against the spell which the stranger was casting over his girl. But Lienhardt paid no attention to such talk. Even as Ita grew more shy and reserved, avoiding being alone with him whenever possible, he did not suspect the real cause of her changed manner. So firm was his belief in her love. But, one day, when he came at an unexpected hour and sought the pine tree under which he was wont to meet her, he found the hunter standing before her, holding her hand and looking into her eyes. His heart seemed to turn to ice. Without a word he went away from the yalley and wandered around in the wide, wide world.

“But the son of the mountains and the hills is neyer happy out there. Great though the beauty of the fertile plains may be, something draws him back yearningly to the narrow boundary which he left behind, the gorges and the yales in which he was at home. The fibers of his innermost being cling to these. So it was, too, that before two years had passed, Lienhardt stood once more on the very place from which he had turned in wild pain. How desolate all was now round about him! The cold wind of November moaned through the tree tops and shook dead branches and yellow leaves on the brown earth at his feet. Like a suffering soul it wailed over the heights, which the returning wanderer had climbed. Lonely and gray seemed to him now the beloved valley, for which he had yearned and pined in the strangers’ land. His mind and heart had pictured it ever in the bloom of spring and the joy of summer. When he went among the people and asked hesitatingly about Ita, he learned that she had never been merry and gay again after his going, but had refused the hunter, who had also left the valley soon after. She herself then went up into the Alps, away up into the mountains, and was living as a dairymaid in a place on the heights, from which she had vowed never to come down again.

“After this Lienhardt wandered from mountain to mountain. Whenever he saw a herder’s hut, a bit of high pastureland, or dairy house, he went to ask after the maid he sought. Each time, however, the answer but sent him farther on his wanderings, his heart filled with increasing bitterness. Thus winter came on. One day Lienhardt was crossing the mountain as village messenger. The snow was falling in thick, silent flakes. No living being passed him. No sound was to be heard. Listen ! Out of the depths somewhere a f aint cry seemed to reach him. He threw himself on the ground, and leaning over the edge of the precipice he saw the figure of a woman, who seemed to be making the last exhausted eff orts to keep her hold on a pro j ecting ledge. He threw down his pack, tore otf his heavj'^ coat, and started down. Below was the sheer precipice, the ground was slippery and yielding under tlie falling snow, and his hands were torn on the sharp edges of the rocks and the thorns of the straggling bushes to which he clung. At last he reached the ledge. But what was his feeling when he loosened the frantic clutch of the woman on the ledge and turned her face, half unconscious from fear and exhaustion, to his.