Chapter I

It was the week after Whitsunday, when the days are so long that it seems as if the dazzling light would never come to an end. But to-day the sun was already hidden behind the church-tower of Wilmersdorf and instead of the light, with which it had filled the front garden all day, the shades of evening had already fallen, and the half mysterious silence was only surpassed by that of the little house which was occupied by old Frau Nimptsch and her adopted daughter Lena as tenants. But Frau Nimptsch was sitting as usual by the large low hearth in her front room, which took in the whole width of the house, and, bending forward, she was gazing at a blackened old tea kettle, whose lid kept up a continual rattling, although the steam was pouring out of the spout. The old woman was holding her hands out towards the glowing embers and was so lost in her thoughts and dreams that she did not hear the hall door open and a stout woman enter somewhat noisily. Only when the latter cleared her throat and greeted her friend and neighbor, our Frau Nimptsch, quite affectionately by name, did the latter turn around and speak to her guest in friendly fashion and with a touch of playfulness: “Well, this is good in you, dear Frau Dörr, to come over again. And from the “castle” too. For it is a castle and always will be. It has a tower. And now do sit down.… I just saw your dear husband go out. Of course he would have to. For this is his evening at the bowling alley.”

She who received this friendly greeting as Frau Dörr was not only stout, but was an especially imposing-looking woman, who produced the impression of narrow-mindedness as well as that of kindliness and trustworthiness. Mean-while Frau Nimptsch apparently took no offence and only repeated: “Yes, his evening at the bowling alley. But what I was going to say was, that Dörr’s hat really will not do any longer. It is all threadbare and really disgraceful. You ought to take it away from him and put another in its place. Perhaps he would never know the difference.… And now draw up your chair, dear Frau Dörr, or perhaps over there where the footstool is.… Lena, you know, has slipped out and left me in the lurch again.”

“Has he been here?”

“Of course he has. And they have both gone a little way towards Wilmersdorf; nobody comes along the footpath. But they may be back again any minute.”

“Well, then I had better go.”

“Oh, no indeed, dear Frau Dörr. He will not stay. And even if he should, you know, he would not mind.”

“I know, I know. And how are things then?”

“Why, how should they be? I believe she is thinking of something even if she does not want others to know it, and she is imagining something or other.”

“Oh, my goodness,” said Frau Dörr, as she drew up a somewhat higher stool instead of the footstool that had been offered her. “Oh, my goodness, then it’s bad. Whenever one begins to imagine things, trouble begins. It is just like the Amen in church. See here, dear Frau Nimptsch, it was just the very same with me, only there was no imagining. And that is just why everything was really quite different.”

Apparently Frau Nimptsch did not really understand what Frau Dörr meant, and so the latter went on: “And because I never took any notions into my head, things always went perfectly well and smoothly and now I have Dörr. Oh well, that isn’t much, but still it is something respectable and I can show my face everywhere. And that is why I went to church with him too, and not merely to the registrar’s office. If you only go to the registrar’s office, there will always be talk.”

Frau Nimptsch nodded.

But Frau Dörr repeated: “Yes, in church, in the Matthäikirche. But this is what I was really going to say, don’t you see, my dear Frau Nimptsch, I was really taller and more pleasing than Lena, and if I was not prettier (for that is something one can never rightly know and tastes differ so), yet my figure was stouter and a great many like that. Yes, so much is certain. But even if I was, as you might say, more solid and weighed more, and there was a something about me—well yes, there was something about me—yet I was always very innocent, almost simple; and as to him, my Count, with his fifty years on his shoulders, well, he was very simple too and always very gay and would never behave properly. And before very long, I told him: “No, no, Count, this will never do; I can’t allow anything like this.…” And old people are always like that. I will only say, dear Frau Nimptsch, you can’t imagine anything of the sort. It was dreadful. And now when I see Lena’s Baron, it makes me ashamed to think what mine was like. And now as to Lena herself. My Lord, of course she isn’t exactly an angel, but she is neat and industrious and knows how to do everything, and loves order and practical things. And don’t you see, Frau Nimptsch, that is just the sad part of it. These fly-abouts, that are here to-day and there to-morrow, well, they never come to grief, they always fall on their feet like a cat, but such a good child, who takes everything seriously, and does everything for the sake of love, that is bad.… Or perhaps it may not be so bad; you only adopted her and she is not your own flesh and blood and perhaps she is a princess or something like that.”

At this conjecture Frau Nimptsch shook her head and looked as if she were about to answer. But Frau Dörr had already risen and said, as she looked along the garden path: “Heavens, there they come. And he is just in civilian’s clothes, with coat and trousers to match. But you would notice him all the same! And now he is whispering something in her ear and she is smiling to herself. But she is blushing so.… And now he is going away. And now… Really, I believe, he is turning back. No, no, he is only saying good-bye again and she is throwing him a kiss.… Yes, I think something like that would have suited me.… No, mine was not like that.”

Frau Dörr went on talking, until Lena came in and greeted both women.