Villa Eden
Chapter 131 : Here she made a long pause, and Pranken was in great suspense, wondering how she would

Here she made a long pause, and Pranken was in great suspense, wondering how she would finish her sentence.

"He talks much," she said, "but he thinks much too."

Pranken cast about for some turn he could give the conversation, which, with a skilful aim, could not fail to hit the mark. He might have spared himself his great pains, for a man whose activities extended over so much ground as Eric's offered many points of attack.

Pranken began by declaring Eric to be a kind of Don Quixote, a man who was always adventuring after great ideas, as in the case of the exaggerated sentiment of his toast. Disguising the cutting nature of his remarks under cover of gentle words, he attempted to turn Eric into ridicule. He thought it presumption in him, in the first place, to lay claim to any inward consecration as a cloak for his profanities, and finally went so far as to accuse him of pa.s.sing off counterfeit coin, in the hope of deceiving a childlike, confiding mind. He looked keenly at Manna as he spoke, but she kept silence.

"Be on your guard," he added, "he plays the model man everywhere."

The expression seemed to please Pranken so well, that he ventured to repeat it.

"This playing the model man is very cunning, but we can see through it.

You have no idea how much trouble this pattern of pedagogues, this Herr Dournay, has given us. You must be on your guard; his every word is stamped with the conviction, that he unites in his own person all possible examples of virtue."

Encouraged by a smile on Manna's face, which she tried in vain to suppress, Pranken continued:--

"After all, his eloquence is only that of the hairdresser, who talks of all kinds of things while he is curling your hair, only without setting up for so much scientific and religious aplomb. Observe how often he uses the word humanity; I counted it fourteen times, once, in a single hour. He affects great modesty, but his conceit actually exceeds all bounds."

Pranken laughed, knowing how easy it is to throw ridicule upon a man in the full tide of enthusiastic action; and with pleasure he perceived that his words were not without influence on Manna. If you can once set a man in a ridiculous light, there is no salvation for him. This, Pranken knew and hoped to accomplish in the present case; he, however, went on to say:--

"Our Roland has learned a great deal under this honorable gentleman, but he has had enough of him now; it is time he entered upon a wider sphere."

Manna preserved her thoughtful silence, and soon after walked away, occasionally, as she went towards the villa, nodding to herself as if a.s.senting to what she had heard. Pranken looked after her in perplexity.

On the steps she met Eric, and both stopped. Eric felt obliged to say something, and therefore began,--

"I can imagine its being hard for you to have your first day at home a fete day; it will, perhaps, make the days that follow seem dull."

"How should you know what is pa.s.sing in my thoughts?" replied Manna, as she went on up the steps.

She was indignant with the man for forgetting his position in the house, and taking upon himself to tell what was pa.s.sing in her mind.

What right had he to put into words what she did not choose to express?

As she went up the steps, she pressed together in anger the lips which had spoken such cruel words; she was angry with herself too. But the words had been said, and could not be unsaid.

She spent the whole evening in her room. At a late hour Roland knocked at the door, and insisted on being admitted.

"Ah, sister," he said, as he sat down beside her, "of all I have been through to-day, one thing haunts me. Everybody to whom I gave a present said he would pray for me. How is that possible, and what good would it do? What good would it do to have another person pray for me, and say of me and wish for me before G.o.d all sorts of good things? Of what use would it be, if I were not in my own soul good and n.o.ble? No man can pray for another."

"Roland, what are you saying? What are you thinking of?" cried Manna, seizing him by both arms and shaking him; then, leaving the boy standing in amazement, she hurried into her chamber and threw herself upon her knees.

On this first day at home the ruin of her house was revealed to her.

She prayed for Roland, that his mind might be enlightened and delivered from bondage, and even while she prayed, a feeling of strangeness stole over her. She wrung her hands, she groaned, she wept. Is it true that no one can stand in the place of another, can sacrifice himself for another? No, it is not,--it cannot be. She felt herself burdened, as by an actual weight from heaven, at the stirring of this great question, this great anxiety within her. Can a human being, then, do more harm than good to another? Is it so? Must it be so? There was a violent struggle in her soul; at last she smiled; a great conflict is appointed for me, she thought, and it is already beginning. She was to save the soul of her brother, and this, she told herself, could not be done by violence, but only by gentleness and humility.

She rose, and returning to the room where she had left Roland, held out her hand to him.

"I see," she said, "you are my grown-up brother; we must help one another to become better. We have much to give and to take from each other; that will come of itself."

She sat down quietly beside him, and held his hand tightly clasped in hers.

"How pleasant it must seem to you to be at home again!" exclaimed Roland. "The convent is no home for any one."

"For that very reason it is the best," returned Manna. "Every day, every hour reminds us that we have no home in this world; that our whole life is but a pilgrimage. If this world were our home, we should both have, you and I--no. You too tempt me to say, what I should not."

"Eric is right," said Roland. "He says you are truly pious; what millions speak only with their lips, you utter from your heart."

"Did Eric say that?"

"Yes, and much more."

"But, Roland," interrupted Manna, "you should, never tell what one person says of another."

"Not if it is good?"

"Not even then. We cannot tell on that very account--no," she interrupted herself; "are you not very happy in having so true a friend in Eric?"

"Indeed I am; and do you not like him better than Pranken?"

A smile rose to Manna's lips, but she repressed it and said,--

"Your teacher should also teach you never to make comparisons. But now, dear brother, remember that I have come from a convent, and need to be much alone. Good-night!" she added, kissing him.

"Remember," he called back to her as he departed, "that you must take your two dogs with you when you go to walk."

Manna was even yet not allowed to be alone. In the convent she had had no one to wait upon her, but here her father insisted on her having a maid to undress her.

The woman praised her beautiful black hair as she let it down.

"Ah, my Fraulein, you have what is so rare in these days, good, healthy hair. Would you believe, Fraulein, that almost all the hair we see on ladies' heads is false or padded? they wear a hat hidden under their hair."

And yet, thought Manna, this hair will fall. A sudden terror shot through her, as the maid pa.s.sed her fingers through the loosened hair; she fancied that she already heard the clipping of the scissors.

At last Manna was alone. After devoting herself for some time to meditation and prayer, she began a letter to the Superior.

"We have celebrated to-day my birthday and my return to my parents'

house; but I long for my own birthday, which shall be my entrance into the home of my Eternal Father--"

BOOK X.

CHAPTER I.

THE GIANT'S TOY.