One lady plucked the sleeve of her neighbour. "See her sit with her elbows upon the table!"

"How coa.r.s.e!"

"There now, see how quickly you have made enemies of all these people,"

whispered old Heim. "You are not wrong from your point of view,--but where is the use of battering so at the door of a house where you have been received as a guest? If you wish to a.s.sociate with mankind, you must not go about treading upon their toes."

"I do not wish to a.s.sociate with these people," said Ernestine.

"Oh, yes, you do! You must wish it. Do you suppose that you need no help, no support,--that you can get along entirely alone in the world?

How unpractical! how terribly exaggerated!"

"I do not understand you, Father Heim."

"I don't suppose you do----"

Angelika here interrupted the conversation, saying, as she handed Ernestine a plate of apricot creme, which was greatly lauded, "You must eat some of this, Fraulein Ernestine. I made it myself, and I am very proud of it."

"You have just heard how Fraulein von Hartwich despises the n.o.ble art of cookery. Don't pride yourself upon it before her," sneered Moritz.

Angelika compa.s.sionated Ernestine's mortification at these words, and, while the other ladies were deep in a discussion regarding the preparation of the delicious creme, she said kindly, "You are quite right in lamenting that we women attach so much importance to such things, but they are part of our daily life, and we cannot entirely ignore them. Why did G.o.d give us organs of taste, if we are not to enjoy the flavour of our food? It is so natural to try to make the life of those whom we love pleasant, even by the most trivial means, amongst which are justly ranked eating and drinking."

"Forgive me for asking the question," said Ernestine, "but could not their enjoyment be equally well secured by the hands of a cook while you were employing your time with something better?"

"Yes," cried Angelika, amid general amus.e.m.e.nt, "if we had the money to pay eighty gulden for an excellent cook. But, as we have not, one must either superintend matters one's self, or put up with bad cooking. And you would not have a poor man, coming hungry and tired from his day's work, do that. No, I a.s.sure you, when I see Moritz enjoying something that I have prepared for him myself, it gives me almost as much pleasure as it does to feed a child."

Ernestine looked at her blankly. This was entirely beyond her horizon.

Angelika continued: "But indeed it does not make us servants. A service rendered for love cannot degrade,--voluntary obedience is not slavery.

We must be guided by some one in life,--why not by a husband who protects and labours for us?" And she held out her hand to Moritz.

"But," said Ernestine, "if we learn to labour for ourselves we need be beholden to no one,--dependent upon no one."

"Oh," said Angelika, with a charming smile and a roguish glance at Moritz out of her large innocent eyes, "we cannot do without them, these stern lords of creation,--at least I could not live without Moritz, if I were ever so rich and wise."

Loud applause greeted this frank declaration; it seemed as if a sudden breath of fresh air were admitted into a sultry, closed apartment,--all breathed more freely. Angelika's genuine sunny nature was a relief to every one, after the distorted, gloomy views that Ernestine had broached.

"And you expect to bring that fool to reason?" whispered Moritz to Johannes.

"Yes," replied the latter curtly.

"Well, I wish you all success. I would not win a wife at such a price."

Supper was ended. The Staatsrathin rose from table, and the company adjourned to the adjoining room, where punch was served.

Johannes silently conducted Ernestine thither. His duties as host then compelled him to leave her. She stood alone in the middle of the room, looking around for some one to whom she might turn. No one came near her. The ladies whispered together, casting occasional glances in her direction, and the gentlemen stood about in groups, either turning their backs upon Ernestine or eyeing her through their gla.s.ses. She stood alone, as upon the stage before an audience. She did not know what to do. It seemed cowardly and undignified to flee for refuge to a corner, and yet this cross-fire of keen eyes was as hard to endure as it had been years before at the Staatsrathin's. What did her intellect or learning avail her now? She was as much shunned, despised, and misunderstood among people of refinement and culture as by the peasants. What fatality was it that thus attended her? Who would solve the riddle for her?

An unexpected end was put to her torment. Elsa glided up to her upon Mollner's arm.

"Fraulein Herbert wishes to be presented to you," he said.

Ernestine gazed in amazement at the strange flower-crowned elderly child, and took with some hesitation the damp, withered little hand held out to her.

"I begged my--our friend--" she looked round, but Mollner had again joined the other guests--"to make us acquainted with each other, because I feel myself so strangely drawn towards you. Your observations upon the brain impressed me greatly,--for I too am wild about natural science, and am myself half scientific. I dote on phrenology. I am a disciple of Schewe's, whose striking diagnosis of my characteristics converted me to Gall's theory. Heavens! what a delight it would be to discuss this subject with you, who have studied the brain so thoroughly! I am sure we should understand one another. You must let me examine your head--so remarkable a head for a woman. What a treat it will be for me! Come,--pray sit down."

Ernestine made an impatient gesture of refusal.

"What! you do not wish it? Oh, don't be afraid that I shall prove an _enfant terrible_ and tell what I discover. I never tell tales."

"I am not afraid of that," replied Ernestine bluntly. "If you could discover my character from the shape of my skull, there would be no need of your silence. I have nothing to conceal. But I take no interest in such nonsense."

"Nonsense do you call it?" cried Elsa, clasping her withered hands.

"Then you do not believe in Gall's doctrine?"

"What do you mean by believe?" said Ernestine. "I do not believe in anything that has not been proved, and when anything has been proved I do not believe it,--I know it. Gall's theory is like Lavater's physiognomy, an hypothesis based upon coincidences, fit only to amuse idlers, but not worthy the attention of an earnest labourer in the cause of science."

"Oh, you cut me to the heart," sighed Elsa, who saw the scientific nimbus with which she had crowned her brows thus falling off like a theatrical halo of gold-paper. She was greatly offended. She had meant so well,--for Mollner's sake she had conquered herself and attempted to make a friend of Ernestine. He should see how her wounded but self-renouncing heart would open to her rival. She had been so glad not to come quite empty-handed to this learned woman; for, as far as she had understood the anatomical conversation at table, it coincided wonderfully with Gall's theory, which she had lately mastered that she might have the pleasure of subjecting Mollner's head to an examination.

And now, just as she had hoped to recommend herself to him whom she loved by her one little bit of scientific acquirement, even this unselfish pleasure was denied her, and the attempt had failed entirely.

Oh, Ernestine was a hard--a terrible woman!

While Elsa had been talking to Ernestine, the gentlemen had cast significant glances towards them, and said among themselves, "There is a wonderful combination,--the Hartwich and Fraulein Elsa! It must be worth studying."

And so they gradually drew near the two women. At last, Moritz, who, like a child with its doll, always had his wife hanging on his arm, could not refrain from joining in the conversation, for he pursued a jest like a boy after a b.u.t.terfly. "Tell me, then, Fraulein Elsa, what did Schewe say to your head?" he asked.

"What?" and Elsa smiled diffidently. What an attraction she possessed for the other s.e.x! Here were all the gentlemen gathered around her again. "What? oh, modesty forbids me to tell you."

"Then he was very complimental?"

"He was indeed."

"That was the reason, then, you found his diagnosis so striking,"

laughed Moritz.

Elsa became embarra.s.sed.

"That is just what makes that man so successful," said Moritz. "He flatters every one, and therefore every one believes him."

"Oh, you do him great injustice!" Elsa remonstrated. "He is so in earnest about his science. He can be quite rude. He would certainly be rude to you, Professor Kern."

The gentlemen all laughed. "Fraulein Elsa is severe."

"Dove-feather'd raven! wolfish-ravening lamb!"

quoted the youthful tutor.

"Oh, I admire the man so much," said the offended lady, "he is an adept in the sense of touch,--really he not only feels, he thinks and sees, with the tips of his fingers. After he had examined my head, and was standing aside with closed eyes, as if to recapitulate mentally what he had discovered, it seemed to me that he was actually holding my soul in his closed hand, like a bird just taken from the nest."