The chance that Mr. Dehnicke might prolong his visit had been foreseen and provided for. Lilly needed only to ring and Mrs. Laue appeared in the famous brown velvet dress with one of Lilly's white fichus modestly tucked in the square-cut neck, and carrying a tea tray with two very dainty coffee cups. On being presented to Mr. Dehnicke she made a courtesy, than which none more aristocratic was to be seen at the b.a.l.l.s of Prince Orloffski. After saying a few suitable words about the great actors of the past and the photographs to which they had affixed their signatures especially for her, she took leave, as was proper.

Lilly displayed style as a hostess; and like the aroma of the coffee, the spirit of "better days" hovered over all.

About four days later the mail brought Mrs. Lilly Czepanek a money-order for 210 marks. Sender, Richard Dehnicke, of Liebert & Dehnicke, Mfrs. of Metal Wares. And on the left side was the remark: "Seven transparency-paintings with pressed flowers, sold at 30 mks. a piece."

The foundations of a livelihood had been laid.

CHAPTER V

Now followed happy times.

With part of the sum she had earned Lilly bought new material, and soon more sunsets glowed beyond woods of dried gra.s.s.

When she lay on her bed during the hot summer nights, sleepless from overwork, she would give herself up to wild dreams of what she would do when her art had conquered the world.

She would start a workshop, like Mr. Dehnicke's, employ about a dozen women with Mrs. Laue, of course, as forelady. Then hunt up her father, and transfer her poor crazy mother to a fine private insane asylum. What else? Oh yes, provide for Walter, certainly. Now that she felt she was his fiancee, and her future was his, this was her bounden duty. To be sure he must first let himself be heard from. But some day, Lilly knew, when he was at a loss where to turn, he would get word to her in some way or other. Then she would send him money--in abundance--in overflowing measure--everything her craft threw into her lap.

No, not everything. One task, the greatest, the holiest, merely to think of which was presumption, dominated her life.

Whether or not her father returned, his work, his immortal work, must never be allowed to sink into oblivion. Awaiting its summons to life the score of the Song of Songs still lay asleep in Lilly's locked trunk. But its sleep was no longer so sound, so dreamless as in the years just gone by. It began to stir and moan. It gave out a humming and ringing which echoed through the day's work and crooned in Lilly's sleep, causing chords and melodies to sound when she least expected them.

From the blue hills beyond which the sun set in flames came a soft strain as if blown by evening winds: "How beautiful are thy feet in sandals, O prince's daughter!" And out of the dark depths of the fabulous woods fluttered fragments of songs of the rose of Sharon and the lily of the valley.

It was almost as if invisible little beings were singing who led a pleasant existence inside those bright-windowed pasteboard huts.

Like Lilly herself the whole world would some day have a share in the treasure whose guardian fate had destined her to be.

Wherever she went or stood, whatever she did or thought, from all corners hopes came dancing forth, beckoning and smiling. A new, larger, purer existence was now to begin. The ends of that golden thread which her insane mother had cut in two with the bread knife, had been tied together again, and drew her upward, upward. She had divinations of something sacred which gave forth blessings, something to be prayed for and struggled for.

A few more months and it would all come to pa.s.s.

A piece of good fortune seldom comes unaccompanied by another; and so it happened that--miracle of miracles!--her betrothed gave a sign of life.

It was one of the first days in September between eleven and twelve o'clock in the morning when Mr. Dehnicke appeared at her door without having announced his coming. Lilly was not completely dressed, and refused at first to see him in. However, he was so insistent that the business on which he had come was extremely important, that she did not venture to dismiss him, and offering a thousand excuses she received him in her matinee.

He let a shy glance of admiration travel over her, and then drew a broad, strange-looking piece of paper from his pocket, which proved to be a check on the Lincoln and Ohio Bank for two thousand and some odd marks.

"What shall I do with it?" asked Lilly.

"Read the letter it came enclosed in," he replied unfolding a large sheet.

"Mr. Richard Dehnicke, Dear Sir," was informed that Mr. Walter von Prell had deposited five hundred dollars to be paid over to Baroness Lilly von Mertzbach.

Lilly was shaken by a storm of grat.i.tude.

She ran up and down the room pressing her handkerchief to her eyes.

_She_ had wanted to provide for him, and now _he_ was providing for _her_.

Suddenly she was fairly overwhelmed by a feeling of distrust.

She came to a standstill, and looked from the check to Mr. Dehnicke and back at the check again.

Both were wrapped in silence.

"Do explain," she cried, utterly perplexed.

"What is there for me to explain?" he rejoined. "I am merely the middleman, or, if you will, the agent in the affair, which really concerns no one but you and your affianced."

"If at least he had given his address," cried Lilly.

"It almost looks as if he wanted to eradicate all trace of himself," Mr.

Dehnicke observed.

It was so romantic and so unlike Walter--how could she help being at a loss!

But there was "Baroness von Mertzbach." Walter was the only person not likely to know of her having had to renounce her married name. That, at least, was an indication of the genuineness of the remittance.

Mr. Dehnicke inclined his head to the left as usual, and regarded her with calm indifference--he was the innocent middleman, nothing more.

"After this unexpected turn of events," he finally said, "you will, of course, no longer refuse to take up the sort of life that accords with your social position and is so essential for the sale of your works."

She shook her head, biting her lips.

Hereupon he became insistent, more insistent than she had thought his modesty would permit him to be.

"You _must_. For his sake you must. I am responsible to him for that. If he should return and want to marry you, he must not find a decla.s.see. I am responsible to him for that."

Lilly asked for time to consider.

From now on her distant lover held sway over her life with a certain emphasis. What had been mere fancy became reality.

Not that she thought of him unqualifiedly as the real sender of those mysterious five hundred dollars. On the contrary, the voice would not be silenced that said to her: "You are being played with." But she was afraid to listen to it, or even draw inferences and come to conclusions.

For if she were to lose the single friend she had, then what?

In order to down all her doubts and scruples she worked diligently, and nearly once a week had batches of sunsets ready to be taken away. And in the meantime Mr. Kellermann had brought her new motifs: a Gothic cathedral perched on perpendicular rocks, a hunting lodge with many gleaming windows, and--_chef d'oeuvre_--the moon rising over peaceful waters, whose silvery sheen was broken by fern fronds.

October came.

The first Sunday of the month Mr. Dehnicke called to take Lilly out walking. He had come for her twice before, and Lilly had accompanied him gladly. Had he offered to take her to the country, her happiness would have been complete.

The autumnal sun lay peacefully upon the tattered leaves of the bare little trees that edged the square fountain. Groups of people sauntered by aimlessly, looking bored and depressed. The winter was already laying its icy touch on men's spirits.