One Sunday afternoon in May we had taken a delightful walk, and on our return the little almshouse chapel stood before us in its dense robe of ivy, illumined by the full radiance of the sun, looking so beautiful and venerable that, for the first time, we gazed at it attentively and remarked how strange it was that we had never desired to see the interior. Though we now heard from the seven matrons that it was perfectly bare and the walls had nothing but spiders' webs, Frau Luise asked for the key, which had not been used for years, and, attended by the whole train of knitting courtiers, we entered the deserted old chapel.

There was, in truth, nothing remarkable to be seen. A tolerably bright light fell through four long, narrow, arched windows, but illumined nothing save bare walls dest.i.tute of pillars, entablatures, or other architectural decorations. Within the choir there was only the square, brick foundation of the altar, raised one step above the floor. In a corner opposite stood a bier covered with a black pall, thickly coated with dust. The little almshouse chapel had doubtless served for a receiving tomb so long as the graveyard outside was used. This thought did not make the cellar-like place more agreeable, and we were about to go back to the warm spring sunshine when my eyes fell upon a high, narrow, wooden box, which stood on the other side just opposite to the altar. Great was my surprise when, after having vainly fumbled about the case for a time, a lid suddenly flew back, and an old harmonium appeared. How it came there I could never ascertain. These instruments are still very rare in our province, and it is hardly probable that years ago the almshouse had a pious and wealthy patron in the city, who desired to aid the religious service in the poor little church by such an endowment.

So we examined our treasure with astonished eyes. When I touched the keys, dull and somewhat rusty, yet not wholly discordant notes stole forth, as if the sleeping soul, so long confined there, were waking, and its first sound was a timid expression of thanks to its deliverers.

The case was instantly drawn forward, and I prepared to play. Frau Luise, with sparkling eyes, came to my side. I began "A mountain fastness is our Lord," and she joined in with her voice, at first timidly, it was so long since she had sung a note, but soon with all her former depth of feeling, till my heart thrilled with ecstasy. When it was over, I began the introduction to our beloved Orpheus aria, and how my friend's marvelous alto voice rang through the lofty, empty chapel! The seven old dames sat silently on the step of the altar, the click of the knitting-needles was no longer heard, nothing mingled with the melody except the low twittering of the birds. So in the utmost delight we practiced for some time, not stopping with this one aria, and many airs which we had sung to our little Joachim returned to his mother's mind.

At last emotion overpowered her, and I ceased playing, rose, and held out my hand, which she cordially pressed. We knew what remained unuttered.

"This must not be the last time we are happy here," I said; "later in the summer this concert-room will be a pleasant refuge, though now the damp, close atmosphere oppresses us. I wonder that you could control your voice so well, Frau Luise."

She made no reply, but pa.s.sed out through the doorway. I walked by her side, and the seven maids-of-honor followed. But what was our amazement to see a crowd of people gathered outside the threshold, who respectfully formed into two lines to allow the singer and her train to pa.s.s. Not only some of the plain people from the few neighboring houses had flocked hither, attracted by the music, but several of the prominent families in the city, among them the burgomaster and his two daughters, who while returning from a Sunday walk had heard with astonishment the strong, beautiful tones issuing from the long silent chapel, and stopped to enjoy the free concert.

The burgomaster himself, a great lover of music, seemed so amazed by the discovery that so admirable an artist had been concealed in the humble almshouse that he did not utter a word to express his homage--only bowed low and silently lifted his hat as she pa.s.sed. The audience of both high and low degree speedily dispersed; yet, as I walked home in the evening, I caught many a word from the worthy citizens, sitting before their doors or going to get their beer, which betrayed how our church-music still echoed in the ears of the listeners.

The Canoness at the almshouse formed the topic of every conversation during the evening, and no three women whispered together ten minutes over their coffee without saying something for or against their interesting new neighbor.

When, on the following afternoon, I went to my friend, she asked, smiling: "Guess what distinguished visitor I have had to-day, Johannes?" Then she told me that the burgomaster himself had called on her, and, amid many compliments on, her singing, asked if she would give lessons to his daughters. The two girls, who had been waiting outside, entered, blushing, and, as she did not refuse the request, sang to her at their father's bidding in fresh, though untrained, young voices, after which she gladly consented to give them two lessons a week, and was to begin the next morning. The only point now was to procure a piano, the harmonium being far too powerful to be used to accompany singing.

It was difficult for me to repress my joy at these glad tidings. Now she is ours, I thought. Now she need no longer pore over the advertis.e.m.e.nts in the last pages of the Voss and Spener journals.

But I said quite calmly: "This happens capitally. I have a piano"--this one luxury had been procured for little money, as, though the old instrument was originally good, it had seen much service--"and I will send it early to-morrow to the almshouse, where there are plenty of vacant rooms which would be cheerfully given up to you for your lessons."

This plan was accomplished. Ere a month had pa.s.sed, all the girls from fifteen to five-and-twenty were enrolled in my friend's volunteer corps of singers, and it was considered as fashionable to send a daughter to the Canoness as it is in the capitals to secure admission to the conservatory.

She had fixed a very moderate price for her lessons. Still, as she also superintended choir-singing, and soon had all her time occupied, her income was so large that I jestingly said she would soon be able to buy an estate.

She shrugged her shoulders, smiling, and I well knew what this meant.

For her left hand was never aware of what her right hand was doing, and, though our town had an organized system of charity, there was ample opportunity for deeds of benevolence.

We never exchanged a word about her remaining in the almshouse. But she persistently resisted the entreaties of her young pupils and their parents to move into better lodgings in the city. "I could not do without my seven guardian angels," she said, smiling. She merely obtained somewhat better furniture for her room, sent for Uncle Joachim's old chest of drawers and the two pictures of Napoleon--he had left her everything he possessed--and added two beautiful engravings from my aunt's legacy. The large room with two windows, adjoining her own, was fitted up for her lessons, and my piano was moved into it.

Many an afternoon, when I had arrived before the close of the lessons, I sat outside on the bench in her little garden, listening to the chirping within, the regular _solfeggios_ and runs, and the magnificent bell-like tones of the teacher ringing out between them, or the sweet voices of the full choir, which practiced not only solemn _motettos_ and _cantatas_, but sought recreation in Mendelssohn, Schubert, and Schumann.

The service she was rendering the young people could not fail to dispel their parents' prejudices against the wife of the strolling actor, and make them endeavor to draw her to their houses. But on this point she was inexorable. "I detest these provincial entertainments," she said to me. "I will cheerfully give the people among whom I live as much of my life as can be of service to them, but the rest I will keep for myself.

To sit on the sofa a whole evening between the wives of the burgomaster and the councilor, and talk about servants and betrothals, would kill me. Besides, my opinions would rouse their displeasure before an hour was over. There is where Mother Schulzen, Mother Grabow, and the other five Fates deserve praise. They think me a saint, though I don't go to church."

But, while she retained this view and avoided the society of the mothers, she was all the more friendly in her intercourse with the daughters. Every other Sunday her pupils, about twenty in number, were allowed to spend the evening with her, and she gave them a little supper of tea, cake, and bread and b.u.t.ter. But these pleasant meetings were not intended merely for merry talk with the children--they were expected to produce better results. She read to them from the works of our cla.s.sic writers the most beautiful and enn.o.bling selections adapted to their age and culture, a couple of acts from one of Schiller's tragedies, which they were afterward to finish at home, once the whole of Iphigenia, at another time ballads from Goethe and Uhland, and then let her youthful audience express their ideas of what they had heard, only adding a few wise remarks of her own.

I did not attend these readings, but took the liberty of lingering outside the open window and listening to her recitations. I will not speak of the indescribable enjoyment that fell to my lot. But, though my love for this woman may make me appear somewhat partial, the a.s.sertion can be believed that she would have surpa.s.sed many a famed tragic actress, had she given her readings on the stage.

How completely she captivated her young listeners!

Many of the older people were made somewhat anxious by finding that the actor's wife was on such intimate terms with her young pupils that she directed not only their singing but their thoughts and feelings. But the last ice melted, though it was the very middle of winter; when a nocturnal conflagration destroyed several houses and robbed some families of their whole property. Frau Luise instantly advertised a concert in the town-hall for the benefit of the sufferers. She herself sang, her pupils helped to the best of their ability in solos, choir-singing, and recitations. Every nook in the hall, spite of the high price of admission, was occupied, and the next day there was but _one_ verdict in house and hovel, namely, that no such pleasure had ever been enjoyed by even the oldest inhabitants, and no more n.o.ble soul ever dwelt in woman's breast than in the tuneful one of this greatly misjudged lady.

So she had reached this point.

The swan, that had lost its way in the marsh, had plunged into the clear water of this quiet country lake, shaken its feathers, and lo!

they were once more snow-white as in its early days.

Even the pastor, who had been unable to forgive her for not appearing at his church and having even chosen as her only intimate friend a renegade theologian, whom he could not help doubly condemning--even this zealous shepherd of souls could not permanently refuse her his esteem. After the concert he called on her, and had a conversation which lasted two hours. I met him just as he was leaving the almshouse.

His face looked as I imagine Moses' might have done after he had seen the Lord in the naming bush. I did not even consider this strange. What victory over human hearts might I not have expected this woman to achieve!

The "overflowing treasure of grace" she so lavishly bestowed benefited me also. For the first time, my modest greeting to the secretly resentful man was returned with a friendly gesture, in which I fancied I noticed a shade of curious interest. We afterward became better acquainted, and learned to sincerely value each other.

My position as the Canoness's special friend was of course much envied by my colleagues and other acquaintances, and many questions were asked about her. But, as I had no intimacies, I was not obliged to put any unusual bolts on my heart, that it might keep its secrets. And I must add one thing more which, amid such narrow, provincial environments, does the highest honor to human nature: never, by even the most trivial jest, was the slightest shadow cast upon the purity of my intercourse with her.

Nay, a still more extraordinary thing: even the most arrogant among the wives of the dignitaries willingly yielded her the precedence she never claimed, and without envy or hatred beheld this stranger, who had been received into the almshouse from Christian charity, ruling the city as it were from her little room--at least, in all matters relating to the common welfare of the inhabitants and their intellectual life. Even the burgomaster's wife and her friends, who gathered at society meetings and coffee-parties, did not consider it beneath their dignity to seek the Canoness's advice on any charitable business, or any question concerning education or etiquette, with a faith as devout as if the almshouse were the oracle of Delphi, and Frau Luise sat on the tripod as priestess. She told me the drollest stories about these occasions, which I, as a faithful servant of the temple, vowed to silence, must not betray here.

Thus the renown of her talents and virtues could not fail to extend beyond the precincts of our little town, till at last even the newspapers mentioned her. She took no notice of it; indeed, she did not look at the papers, now that the advertis.e.m.e.nts no longer interested her. I think she secretly dreaded to accidentally read the name of the man whom she desired to forever forget.

But her concert for the sufferers by the conflagration had made such a sensation that all Preignitz and Uckermark rang with its fame. So one day, when I came to chat with her a little while after she had finished her lessons, I saw standing in front of the almshouse a dusty carriage, on whose door I recognized the coat of arms of her own family, though the faces of coachman and footman were unfamiliar to me.

Nevertheless, I did not hesitate to knock at her door, and, on entering, saw a pretty, stylish young lady sitting on the sofa by her side, while at the first glance I recognized in her companion my former pupil--Baron Achatz. He had not grown much taller, but a little blonde mustache had ventured forth under his turned-up Zieten nose, and the light-blue eyes beneath his low brow had so frank an expression that I was instantly reminded of his excellent mother, now resting in the peace of G.o.d.

"Come nearer, my dear friend," cried Frau Luise. "You will find an old acquaintance, who has already been inquiring for you, and his young wife. This is our candidate, dear Luitgarde, of whom Achatz has often told you. What do you say, Herr Johannes? My cousins have come in person to invite me to spend the rest of my life with them. They have heard I was an inmate of an almshouse, which did not seem to them a proper place for a member of their family. Now they want to carry me off in triumph to their castle, like a precious jewel that has been taken from the family treasures and at last found again. Is it not kind in these young people, who could not be blamed if, for a time, they had thought only of themselves and their own happiness. But you are misinformed, my dear cousins. I live here just as I desire, and want for nothing, though my claims upon life are not the most modest. Tell Achatz, my dear Johannes, how I am spoiled here. Am I not pleasantly lodged? The adjoining room is my music-hall, and my reception-day is always crowded. The attendance leaves me nothing to desire, seven maids and waiting-women, whose united ages number more than five hundred years; where should I ever find the like again? If you could stay longer, you would be convinced that I am at least as well cared for here as though I were living in a chapter, while I need not even wear the veil and dress of the order, but can cut my garments according to my own taste. Nevertheless, I thank you from my heart for your kind intentions"--and as she spoke she kissed the young wife, whose blushes followed each other in swift succession--"but, if you really must go to-day, you must first see that your old cousin can offer her guests a very tolerable cup of tea. First, however, I will take you over my little kingdom, of whose orderly government I am so vain that the sarcastic candidate is fond of calling me 'the queen of the almshouse.'"

She rose, tied her little black kerchief over her hair, and then drew the young baroness' slender arm through hers. We men followed, and, while Frau Luise, with sportive self-ridicule, pointed out all the modest beauties of the building and its environs, and finally gathered a bouquet for the bride in her little garden, my pupil (pardon the slip) plucked up courage to beg me, in a whisper, to persuade his cousin to accept his well-meant offer. Even if she herself was satisfied with her humble position, it would place him and the whole family in a bad light if it should be rumored that he had allowed his nearest relative to live in an almshouse, and from considerations of kinship she owed it to him and to herself to return to--

"My dear baron," I replied, "you overestimate my influence with your cousin. She knows exactly what she owes to herself. But, if you speak of family considerations, allow me to say, with all the freedom warranted by my old acquaintance with you, that the occurrences during your father's life-time must absolve Frau Luise before G.o.d and man from any duty to her family. And now, pray, let us say no more about it. I congratulate you sincerely upon your marriage. Your wife seems endowed with every physical and mental gift that would have led your mother to greet her joyfully as her son's wife, and love her most tenderly."

The good fellow silently pressed my hand, and I saw his honest little eyes sparkle.

When we returned to the house--the lake and ivy-mantled chapel had fairly enraptured the somewhat romantic young wife--we found the tea-table set, a task for which Mother Schulzen, whose day it was, possessed especial skill, and supplied with fresh bread, golden b.u.t.ter, and a little cold meat. "The cups are not Sevres," said Frau Luise in a jesting tone, "and, as I had more pressing wants than silver table-ware, you must be content with pewter spoons and bone-handled knives and forks. While I am making the tea, friend Johannes will give you a proof of his greatest talent, which consists in b.u.t.tering bread."

She was so irresistibly charming in her quiet cheerfulness that the young wife at last lost her embarra.s.sment, and we four sat together for an hour, talking in the gayest manner like old friends. When the time for departure had come, the ladies affectionately embraced each other, and promised to correspond regularly. The young baron kissed his cousin's hand, but she embraced him with maternal tenderness, saying: "I can not see the kind face you have inherited from your mother, Achate, without remembering how often I kissed that saintly woman's cheek. Now, farewell; remember me to old Liborius, and Krischan, too, though he has become a drunkard, and, when you meet Leopoldine, tell her that I should be very glad to see her again. But traveling is uncomfortable for an old woman like myself; she must come to me."

This visit, which of course was much discussed in the little city, greatly increased and strengthened the love and reverence my friend enjoyed. It was considered greatly to her credit that she had resisted the temptation to return to her aristocratic circle, and preferred the humble almshouse to the proud castle. Mother Schulzen, of course, under the pretext that she must be close at hand, had listened at the door, and, though she usually declared herself to be hard of hearing, had not lost a word of the conversation.

From that time Frau Luise was secretly regarded as a sort of honorary citizen of our town, and would have been cheerfully granted the most jealously guarded privilege of citizenship, that of fishing in the lake, had she displayed any love for angling.

Yet she continued to live on in the una.s.suming manner previously described, and, as she enjoyed perfect health, she compared, in her droll way, her own condition with that of the little dismantled steamer that lay anch.o.r.ed in the calm inland lake, resting comfortably from every storm.

But one more tempest burst over her, which threatened to shake even her steadfast nature.