"Oh, yes, I begged your son to call me Ernestine,--it makes me feel like a child again, and as if I could begin my life anew!"

"But you should address him by his first name, and not have the intimacy all upon one side."

Ernestine blushed. "I cannot do so now,--by-and-by, perhaps."

"Leave it to time and Ernestine's own feelings, mother dear. I shall not ask for it until it comes naturally. Some time when she wishes to give me a special pleasure she will do it. And now good-by, Ernestine.

I must go. I lecture at nine, but as soon as I get through I will return."

Ernestine looked up at him with glistening eyes, and breathed, scarcely audibly, "Farewell, my friend."

Johannes pressed her hand, and then, turning to his mother, said, "Dear mother, I leave Ernestine to you for an hour, and hope with all my heart that you will understand each other. But, at all events, remember what you promised me."

"Most certainly I will, my son." He went as far as the door, then lingered, and, calling his mother to him, whispered imploringly, "Be kind to her,--all that you do for her you do for me."

And, with one more look of longing love at Ernestine, he was gone. It was very hard to go. It seemed to him that he must stay,--that Ernestine would escape him if he did not guard her well. He would have turned back again if his duty had not been so imperative. "If I only find her here when I return!" he said to himself one moment, and the next he blamed himself for his childish weakness. He loved her too well. The one hour of lecture seemed to him an eternity. He longed to see her again almost before he had crossed the threshold that separated him from her.

How beautiful she was to-day after her refreshing sleep,--how maidenly!

If, when he returned, she looked at him with those glistening eyes, he could not control himself,--he would throw himself at her feet and implore her to be his. The decisive word must be spoken,--he must have certainty. The state of doubt into which he was plunged by the strange contrast between Ernestine's cold, stubbornly expressed opinions and her tender personal behaviour towards himself was not to be borne any longer. Only one hour separated him from the goal for which he longed with every pulse of his strong, manly nature. Oh, were it only over!

"Do you like beans?" the Staatsrathin asked Ernestine.

"Why do you ask me?"

"Only because you are to have them at dinner to-day."

"Thank you, but I cannot dine with you."

"Why not?"

"My uncle might return unexpectedly from his journey, and be angry if he did not find me at home."

"Strange! How comes it that you, who contend so earnestly for freedom, are under such strict control? Is it not somewhat of a contradiction?"

Ernestine started.

The Staatsrathin continued: "You are battling for the independence of woman, you brand as slavery a wife's obedience to her protector, and yet a man who, as I understand the case, is far more dependent upon you than you are upon him, has such complete dominion over you that you do not dare to stay from home a day without his permission."

Ernestine was again startled and surprised. "You are right. But I have grown up under his control. It has become a habit with me, so that I am hardly conscious of it, and it has never yet been so opposed to my wishes as to induce me to shake it off."

"Now, let me ask you, my dear, whether you regard this dull, half-unconscious habit of submission as n.o.bler and loftier than the loving, voluntary obedience that a wife yields to a husband?"

Ernestine was silent for a moment, and then said with her own generous frankness, "No, it is not. But I have brought it upon myself, and cannot escape from it as long as my uncle possesses the legal right of my guardian."

"But this legal right does not in any way affect your personal freedom as long as you do not desire to do anything contrary to law."

"He always told me that the guardian was the master of the ward. And if this tyrannical regulation had not applied equally to the male and female s.e.x, I should long ago have attacked it in my publications."

"That would not have done much good, I fear," said the Staatsrathin dryly.

Ernestine shrugged her shoulders. "None of my writings effect much good. But they are not meant to be anything more than a few of the many drops of water that must one day wear away the stone that dams the course of the pure waters of reason."

"We will not discuss such abstract subjects," said the Staatsrathin evasively. "I would rather persuade you to stay with us to-day."

"If I only thought that I should not be a burden to you!"

"You certainly will not be to me, and you will give my son a pleasure far greater than the annoyance to which your absence may subject your guardian. But you are the best judge of what you ought to do."

Ernestine laid her hand upon the Staatsrathin's. "I will stay!"

"There,--that's right! Johannes would never have forgiven me if I had failed to persuade you to stay." She rang the bell. Regina appeared, and carried away the coffee-tray.

"You may bring me the beans, I will prepare them," said the Staatsrathin. Regina brought in the beans in a dish, with a bowl for the stalks.

"I'm sure you will excuse me," said the Staatsrathin to Ernestine, and she seated herself by the window, knife in hand, ready to begin her task.

Ernestine looked on in astonishment. "Do you do that yourself?"

"Why not? The cook has a great deal to do to-day, and I am glad to a.s.sist her."

"I would help you if I knew how," said Ernestine.

"Try it,--perhaps it will amuse you. It does not require much skill."

The old lady, quite delighted at Ernestine's interest in domestic affairs, handed her another knife and a bean, saying, "Look! you first strip off the stem and those tough fibres,--so. The people in this part of the country are apt to pay no attention to the fibres, but if you do not strip them off they are very tough. And now cut the bean lengthwise. Stop!--not so thick,--a little finer. Now, don't put the stems back in the dish, but here in this bowl! See! everything in the world can be learned, and, if you should not be compelled to do it, it is at least well to know how."

A gentle sigh escaped her as she remembered that her own circ.u.mstances had once, before she had lost her property by her brother's failure, been such as to make these homely offices entirely unnecessary.

Ernestine contemplated with smiling surprise the Staatsrathin's enthusiasm in encouraging her to undertake this new role. She asked herself seriously if it were possible that this was really an intellectual woman. But one glance at the broad, thoughtful brow and the clear, expressive eyes of the speaker convinced her of the truth.

Lost in these reflections, Ernestine continued her novel taskwork, but the Staatsrathin suddenly discovered, to her horror, that she was throwing the stems in with the beans, and the beans into the bowl of stems and strings.

"My dear," she cried, "see what you are doing! now I shall have to pick over the whole dishful!"

Ernestine threw down the knife and leaned back in her chair. "I never was made for such work! Forgive me, but I cannot think it worth while to learn it. I shall never be so situated as to need such knowledge."

"As you please," said the Staatsrathin coldly.

"Are you displeased with me? Is it possible that you are displeased with me because I cannot cut beans?" She seized the old lady's busy hand. "Frau Staatsrathin, make some allowance for me. You must not ask one to do what she is not fit for. Would you ask the fish to fly, or the bird to swim? Of course not. Do not, then, expect a person who is at home only in a different world to take an interest in the every-day concerns of this."

"This strife about the beans you make, When really crowns are now at stake,

we might say," remarked the Staatsrathin. "And certainly in our case these matters are not so widely different. What is most important cannot be entirely divided here from what is unimportant. Such little household occupations, slight, even insignificant, as they may appear, belong to the responsibilities of a woman's position. They are st.i.tches in the web of her life. If a single one is dropped, the whole is gradually frayed!"

Ernestine shrugged her shoulders. "You are perfectly right from your point of view, Frau Staatsrathin, but your point of view is not mine.

To me a woman's mission is something higher. A n.o.ble mind cannot condescend to occupy itself with such cares, which are--forgive me the expression--always more or less sordid."