LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XX, Issue 1492, 27 November 1878, Page 3

LITERATURE.

CHRISTMAS AT THE BARON’S. By the Author of “ German Home-Li-u.” * Dans les grandes crises le errur so hrise ou se bronz —Balzac. Chapter I. ‘ Come and see my pororait.’ Two iZrls were standing on the perron of Sch’o s W ddstein. It was an Oc ober morning, bright, crisp, and keen. The sun was warm, the air was cold, the woods were russet. Dew spa> k'ed on the grass ; a dew which had been frost earlier in the day, but, kissed hard try the palo god of morning, had trembled into the tears that were now clropp:ng on to the col i earth, over which the death of the year had already cast its irrevocable chill. ‘ I hate these grandes chnanes ,’ said the younger and shorter of the two girls; ‘the days seem so long One gets up early, and after all the fuss and excitement of breakfast, life falls rather flat, and it’s a little difficult to work oneself up to the proper amount of enthusiasm, or to care how many hares or f xea have been shot, when these se’fl-h men return.’ ‘ We don’t shoot foxes in my country.’ ‘No. You prefer spending a fortune on a kennel and breaking yonr necks in pursuit of the meanest and timidest of creatures. It is ridiculous to think that it takes a pack of hounds, a thoroughbred horse. Heaven knows how many officials, and a herd of mad scamperinc men and w men to destroy a wretched little beast like a h ire or a fox Come, confess now', Lady Britannia ’ 'I he sp l aker was a short slight girl some twenty years of age, wdiose thick black hair, large lambent hazH-gre* n eyes, irregular features, and little pointed chio, gave her a quaint attractive beauty, which, strictly speaking, was no beauty at all, but rather a piquant charm, leaving one quite in the dark a° to the real amount of good looks Nature had endowed her withal.

‘ Do you think Minna Waldstein pretty ?’ was a question often heard. Ho one had ever been found t > say ‘ yes ’ or ‘ no ’ to it. H r beauty depended on her mood, on her h r alth, on the lucky, or unlucky chances of dress and circumstance. It depended still more on the sympathies of her critics Beauty’s prosperity lies in the eye of him that sees it, no less than wit’s effect in the ear of him that hears. Seen by the cold critical eye early in the d .y, the t ray light falling on her swarthy skin, the chill air s aaing the bh od in her veins, her large pale green eyes empty <f passion or mirth, her irregula- features unlit by pleasure or amu ement, it was no wonder if women declared Minna von Waldstein to be an ugly, sallow insignificant little thing. Bat seen, as I have seen her over and over again, flushed with exercise wild with s irits, her blood all aglow with the madde-t gallop across country, her eyes sparkling with excitement and delight, she M r as simply bewitching. Worse still, in a ballroom she was absolutely dan?°rous. Her sallow skin then appeared like ivory ; the rose tint on her cheeks added a strange dazzling lu tre to her la'ge somewhat prominent eyes ; those < yes t'at look d b own shot with green or gre-n shot wth brown, or green pure and simple, or brown aft and honest, according to her irmod and f-nicv. The la u hes were long and curly ; black, with curi us b onze lig ts at the ti s, that gave a s'range uncertain fire to her gaze. And when she 1 >oked at you kindly and laughed, it was as though a whole flood of sunshine had suddenly poured over you. Anything mo-e un-German (according to the popular idea of Gr“rmanity) could not be imagined. Yet Minna Waldst in was a T ulmness of the Teutons in so far as blood went. Her last new passion was Lady Britannia ‘ Minna Waldstein i=> so fickle. The little Wa’dstein is so capricious Die Minna hat ja Item Gem.vthl ’ Such were the judgments of her adrair ng friends. But Lady Britannia had set aside all foregone conclusions, and had accented Minna at her own estimate. ‘I am not so bad, if you will only take the trouble to find out my good points,’the girl had sail, humblv en nigh, to her now friend ; and Grace Digby for all reply had turned and kissed the spritcly penitent between the eyes. ‘ Come and see my portrait.’

Chapter IT. In a large empty room at the back of the foreste-’a house, a young man stood before an easel The shutters were c'osed over the lower part of the windows : only the thin tr-ee-tons were visible as one looked up at the cold northern sky. The uncertain light in the room, i f s bareness and roughness, lent concentration to the light that fell up m the one object of interest within the four blank walls of the bare apartment. The young man was the forester’s son. He had studied in Paris, in London, in Home, His name was beginning to bo heard in the world of art. Picture-dealers and picturefarmers respected Ins signature. He was a straight limbed, strong thewod young fe low, with ‘broad brows and fair, a fincnt hair and fine,’ square forward chin, and firmly chiselled mouth. A man who would do, or die in the doing ; full of energy, purpose, live blood ; possessed by a large, ardent, tierce ambition, with all the lire and none of the inconstancy of genius, He had come home to see his parents. What more natural than that ho should offer to paint the portrait of his patron’s daughter, grown since he had seen her last, as his little foster sister, into wayward womanhood ? The offer was made and was accepted. Baron Waldstein. a poor hut proud man, lov'd everything that could add to his prestige. He went about the Ilesidcnz-town puffing his new p'ofrgc , predicting great things of him, parad ng the mystery of some wonderful portrait that was to astonish the art-world when tlv timeenne, whde he kept Karl Wernor. a wil'ing captive, shut up in Schloss Waldstcin to work at Minna’s likeness. ‘This sort of peordemnst be made to know the’r place,’ he bad said, in a lordly manner, to his yopng daughter. ‘ Never forget, Minna, that the Herr Forster is a paid servant, just as much as the meanest scul'i n or kit hen-wench. And his sou is as far from you as the son of your lady's-maid could be.’ ‘Not quite father. Karl Werner and I had one mother.’ Minna’s own mother had gasped out a broken-hearted existence at Minna’s birth, when the kindly Frau Forstorin had taken the feeble, sickly little infant to her ample bosom, and given it of her own strong wholesome life. ‘Stuff and nonsense, Minna! Once for all, I forbid that sort of sentimentality. If the young man is taught to know his place, he, will behave himself ; if he behaves himself, I may recommend him to the Ora ad Puke, perhaps to the King. The (jnecn gives herself the air of patronising the fine arts. He may eventually become Cmrt painter Only mind you keep him in his place ’ To keep him more surely in his place the Baron in-isted upon heaping Minna’s little neck and arms with all the jewelry of her plain, underbred hourt/rois stepmother. Like other proud men ho had not hem too proud to parch his fortunes with plebein money, and when he marrii d t’>o uely daughter of i I err Markworth, the old chicory m >rchant, be fei': that ha had accomplished a virtuous

Virtuous actions bad not b°en ho con spicuou 3 in his Ido that ho should forget this one ; and it was said that Miss M u-kworth was often r- minded of it in terms not exactly (1 -.tt 'rintr to her an,our proprc She revenged hers-If hy tdudyhig how to h cnnie oven more unpleasant than had intended her- to b ■, and it va* general’y agreed that a large ipjasmo of success had crowned her e d or-ts, ttaron 'WahMein was avowedly that most miserable «-f beings known as an homwa ii bonnes fortunes He was a General in the S (d|>ei sti°fel army. G-and lLe-edita>y Stirrup-holder, Chamberlain, Aide-de-camp,

and undiscovered titles only know what besides. He was one of the vainest men that ever buckled on a sword or swaggered across a parade-ground He ogled every woman he met, and said bitt-T things of such as refused to succumb to his charms He had been lampooned in the local papers, persijU'd bv the Radio 1 comic journal, and still afforded more scandal to censorious spinsters a d waning dowagers t an any other pe'son within the Added to this he was an euragirte Preusser, and when the question of the Stolpenstieller succession was discussed amongst local politic! ms, his voice was ever loudest in proclaiming that he would die rather than become Austrian. The wags made a picture of him fal ing on his sword like an antique hero, wth the Emperor of Austria rising above and the King of Prussia setting below the horiz m, and a whole circle of weeping c .rypheos, suppoted to bo portraits of the ■'tolpenstieder corps dr. ballet, lamenting the death of the elderly Alcibiades, Having no sense of humour he felt himself to be grossly outraged by the somewhat vulgar cartoon, and blustered loudly about the tiues and imprisonment presently to be inflicted on the offenders by the outraged of Serenity of Stolpenstiefel But that accomplished prince, considering the moment unfavorable to signal severity, preferred to let the matter drop until a more convenient season. It may be added that Lady Britannia was Baron Waldstein’s last vanity.

Chapter 111. ‘ Well, what do you think of it?’ *fim Ito speak the truth? Am I to say what I think of it, or what you wish me to think of it ?’ 4 I have no wish on the subject. I want to hear a our opiui m. ’ ‘My candid opinion ? Not a bit of candour and a lump of compliment ?’ * No. Just what you think,’ * Well—it is like—but— ’ ‘But—’ ‘ You will not be offended—flattered.’ ‘Not that,’ said Karl Werner, speaking for the first time. ‘That is a word that pains the artist; it presupposes an insincerity of soul- it— ’ Grace Digby turned and locked at him. Up to that time they had taken no more notice of him than if he had been a la r, quey. 4 1 beg your pardon,’ she said, * idealised—that is the word I should have chosen in the first instance, had I not been thinking more of the model than of the artist.’ Her pale beautiful face flushed, and a generous light shone out of her eyes as she spoke. Karl Werner wished that modern etiquette included the kissing of garment hems amongst its prescribed formulae. But being a brave and ready young fellow, and having seen many English and American ladies in his atelier at Rome, he only acknowledged the amendin'nt wuh a gesture of satisfaction, such as would h -ve nit illbecome the Duke of Stolpeaetiefel himself in a gracious hour. ‘ I see you hace not put in the Markworth diamon’s yet.’ Minna said, shooting a mischievous glance at the young man. ‘No I hoi.e you may still prevail on the Herr Ba>ou to be gracious to me on that point. Ah it is. I have not been a 1 le to do justice <o my subject. To pvint you in a ball dress is a violation of the fitness of things. One might as wed put a dryad into a Pompadour costume ’

‘ l api will never consent, to hide the light of the Ma k worth diamonds under a bushel. I’ut in trie family gems without further prnte t (for 1 suppose they wi I figure as aid stem jewels in the next g-nfritiou) and hand in ' down to posterity adorned with chicory charms.’ There was a hitter lightness in her tone that caused Gr>ce Digby to press her arm. Karl 1 okcd at her with grave eyes that were tender and pitiful in spite of their gravity ‘ Come,’ Grace said, drawing her towards the door, ‘we are only hindering Herr Werner. ‘ But once outside, she paused and said, ‘ *rs you not unduly familiar with Mr Werner, Minna? Hoes it not strike you that, by adopting this tone, you place him on an equality w ith v ourself ? ’ * I too familiar with him ? O you sweet prude, n ou severe saint, you wise matron! Am I not familiar with my dogs? Are you not fri ndly with your h-rse ? Do you not know that Karl Werner is nothing more to me than the son of my lady’s maid could be ? That his father, the hrave old fores'er, is no less a paid servant than any kitchen wench or scullion in my father’s house ? That sort ( f people can be treated with fami’iarity just because they are at an immeasurable distance from us. They are machines, automatons, with mechanical fingers that work for us. Sexless, brainless beings, made for our pleasure and pastime, without passions or feelings of their own ; sparing ns the trouble and fatigue of consideration I ’seful, bat conveniently free from all individuality—’ ‘ Herr Werner did not seem to me like that.’ ‘He has to seem to me like that Besides, what impropriety could there be in my spe tking to him of the chicory and the diamonds 1 Wealth has a certain aristocracy. A lean, spiteful old maid, with a shrewish tongue, and a temper to set one’s teeth on edge and gold galore in hanks and manufactories, is a very superior person t > aycung struggling artist, whose fatter and mother are poor honest people, going their dull humble way without a thought beyond the next parish.’ ‘Take care, Minna.’ ‘Of whom ? Not of myself. I need no care ’ ‘ Then of him. If I am not mistaken, there lies a great future before that young man But even in his obscure present he is not a person to bo trifled with. Do not trifle with him Things might turn out so that you would not escape scot free.’ {To he continued.)