LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XX, Issue 1493, 28 November 1878, Page 3

LITERATURE.

CHRISTMAS AT THE 13 A "RON'S. By twio Author ok "German HomeLife." ' Dans los grandes crises le rcour sc brise ou se bronze. I—Balzac. 1 —Balzac. (Continued.) Chapter IV. ' And yo'i ■will o«me to us at Christmas?' ' If John shou'd be well enough ' 'Ho will be well enouefh. Grace, I want to a-<k you something ; a favour ; and yet I scarcely kn->w. People h»ve talked against me I have no one I can trust —' • Not amongst your friends at Stolpenstiffel?' ' My friends ! ' cried Minna, blazing into a sudden passion of rage and scorn. ' What sort of friends are they ? A set of spiteful, envious canting hypoerit&s ; mean enough to listen to your secrets, and then scandalise you in Ihe coffee party they go to. False enough to flatter and fawn upon ym, and then betray you to your own father, because their feeble vanity recommends them to obtain his ' friendship.' at any cost, and sanctifies a faded flirtation on the pretext of a disinterested interest, in his disobedient daughter. No! You Englishwomen m*y have friendships : your interests a>-e wide, enough, your country Hg enough, your lives free enough. But for us, we have more or less hidden enmities instead. We have envies, hatreds, mali /- es, and all conceivable and inconceivable uncharitablenesses. We have spite 3 and jealousies and meannesses innumerable. My bos'un friend of the hour has generally betrayed m O , to the intimate of the m >m;-iit. No ! Heaven preserve me from rny friends ! lam glad we are not going into Stolp nstiefel for the winter. An extra regiment has been ordered from the frontier. Papa has lent his house to the Colonel. Glad but for one thing—can I trust you, ' Grace'? —but for one thing —' 'And thatis—' 1 Yes ! Eyes like yours never betrayed trust; you are loyal, lady Britannia. And you can help me if you will..' ' 1 will if I can. How V ' As our friends, you and Captain Digby will be asked to Court. You must call on people. Papa will give you the list of the honorabilities ("swells" you call them in your mad ridiculous language). Y r ou will know I General von Haften.' 'Yes.' ' And the dear old Ccncraliu. She knew my mother \vh >n she was my age. Give her my love, ami say —say J, never will forget her ; and—' ' Apres ?.' ' \V< !1, yea —fist, but not least,Grace, you ; wi'.l pea tbeir son—Hund. Ts it i ot » quaint old German name? Hund Haften! Don't you feel the romance of chivalry floating round you? Isn't there a breath of the Crusades m it? J lis ancestors must have had a dogged courage and faithfulness, Ityi the good old German bl >od ; tren. wnd feat. Look at this old bi f . of Floroaiine enamel,' cried Minna, drawing & quaint thin little ring from her bosom, where it lmug upon a ribb'-,;. See the dog, and the star of hope i abovn, at which he is e;> steadfastly giziug. Head the old motto written in tinv letters at the back of the ring—'Turin Kino, '."OTTO AUnENTE." And to think taat Itilia-i lov r?, loug made ami wore it! It might iave bc'i-.i Borneo's. Juiiet might have thug it at her neck—' ' But ITerr von luiuiia''' • Ah, yea .' Well, he is coining on leave of abi;e;ic?. Ho will stay with his parents over , Chris vnas ' ' Am I to give luV any message V 'No. Only if J >o speaks of me, answer him ; say vihpt you hke, what you thin':,' ' Does he know v, .' u love him?' < [ np»or said I did.' '.Vol; to him. ft»ritapjj ; but to mc you Uave. Ycu\i c/es have said it, your color | has Daid i^ —'

1 Well, yea 1 lo\ c biia, Look here, Graoe,

All that is light and rain and frivolous in me is not me. It is something I have put on, as other women heap themselves about with gewgaws and trinkets. All that is sharp and hard and heartless in me is not me. but my life, wbi'ih has been sdiarp and hard and loveless All is light of speech and scathing of tongue in me is not me ; it is the bitterness that never wept itself out on a mother's br<M«t. was never waslied with wholesome tears. All that is dofiant and daring i s me i *t is the sham of shams ; it is the protest against vretence ; "it is a truth that, i-hows fals ly. Look at my father, Grace But he will do anything for you. You must use your influence with him to —' ' You go too far, Minna. You expect too much ' ' No. But ho will listen to you. Captain Digby may hear every word you say, Promise me.' 'I cannot promise.' ' Papa insulted the old General von Haften for sending his son into the Austrian service. Then he insulted Hund himself—and you know whoever insuUs an officer still more grossly insults his uniform, aud with that his country, his government, his Emperor. The code ot honor exacts that a man shall doff the uniform he ha 3 suffered to be degraded. Fortunately it was not quite so bad as that. Papa was an older man ; Hund was in mufti, the" affair was patched up ; but we were forbidden to speak to each other again, and that was three years ago, and now I am twenty, Grace ' ' Is that the way you Germans love one another ?' ' Yes. Much as you English and Irish love one another; much as your American cousins and you Jove one another.' ' What ? You insult me at the same moment that you ask me to do you a favour ?' •Itis my wretched tongue. Forgive me, dear Lady Britannia. You are great—you can afford to be magnanimous.' Chapter V. 'English or American, it's all the same The freedom of these women! The Grand Puke has been talking to her for an hour. If she were only good-lo king, one might understand the fusa all you men are making about her.' ' Are we ?' ' Yes And though I never repeat the ill-natured things I hear, I have been told that her friendship for that unlucky little Minna von Waldstein is merely a cloak to the serious flirtation she is carrying on with the General.' ' I think, without unduly stretching our Christian charity, we may consider that affection purely platonic' ' HJatonism in love affairs is not supposed to be the General's weakness. Bat here oomes the goddess of the hour. It is an impertinence for a woman to dress as plainly as that, and an affectation into the bargain.' Lady Britannia! she is beautiful!' It was Karl Werner who spoke. Baron Waldstein had produced his protege, and had procured him the title of Bof-maler. In consideration of this newly-won distinction he w.is at the Court-ball to night. The ' rand Duke had a (dressed a few gracious words of recnan tion as to his pa-<t and augury as to his future, and the fortunate young paint r had siid inlo the background, glad to regain his native obscurity. Close beside him st od Hund von H if l en, in'he superb uniform of the Radetzfcy Hu.s a f s As the beautiful Mrs Digby walked out of the tpa-r r om, attended by one of the <*rand "uke's aides 'le camp a slight flu t?r passed ♦hro'igh the well-dressed rrob. Captdn v n HifUn pressed 'orward and claimed the next dance; Baron Wald J tein scowled across ihe circle at the handsome couple ; Karl Werner sighed as he thought of the one woman in the world, and conf* ssed that beauty at its brightest left him cold and comfortless where sop was not. It was to talk of Minna, to ask after Minna —to pl«n, hope, despair, and be comforted—that Hund von Haften so constantly sought Mrs D gbv's (O'uV.y. Captain Digby bore things with great equanimity; wondered if all men in love were such confounded pr-sts ; hoped matters might soon come t"> a climax ; aud, blissfully ignorant of a word of German, was utterly unconscious of the malevolent remarks his apparently accommodating conduct called forth. ' Ah, those English husbands are very convenient ! said an emphatic lady in the crowd buzzing behind the poor young artist. 'Englishmen never fight duels, you know, so no harm can come of things ; and then they a*e a 1 so absurdly 'under the pantoffeV that they dare not say their souls are their own.' B»ron Waidstcin, looking on, felt a severe wound to his vanity. Karl Warner, gazing wearily round, was conscious of a shock to his honor. Chafj-er VI. In many places the suow had drifted thirty and forty feet. Out on the hieb road gangs of prisoners were at work cutting out huge frozen blocks that were carted away like salt or marble. Where the drift was deepest, the tops of the trees peeped out like nedgerows from above the snow. Vast flocks of birds sat upon the house roofs, starved into temporary tameness ; and out in the silent country all was one monotonous death shroud. All that autumn Karl Werner had worked at the portrait of his patrou's daughter. All through chill October and dark November Minna had come and gone to the forester's house. Had they been living in town—had the artist been a stranger to them—the Baron and Baroness would certainly have cor sidced some sort of surveillance or ehaperonage neceasary. But only just across the courtyard at Waldstein, in the forester's house—whore the kindly, prudent, motherly Frau Foraterin moved heavily to and f ro, or eat in the painting room with her interminable stocking knitting—no official duenna was neces-ary. N<> paternal representations had been able to instil coldness into Minna's intercourse with hor foster mother. She played round her, teased her, fondled her, provoked her— I was sweet and saucy, and cross and coaxing, all in a breath. It was beautiful to see the large placid woman's broad smiles of delight as her trickuy nursling patted and soothed her, fluttered in and out, broke upon them like a ray of sunshine, laughed and sang, and was sweet and gentle with them all. ' S'ixf ebb wahrer Bngel ! she would exclaim delightedly. And Minna— O dear good people, why am I not always with you ? Why are not the people [am with like you? It is nonsense, iVioiher Lisa, to say we are " HcrrSvhait," aud you only humble folk. Whether ' is it better to live in the forests with the trees and the beautiful wild creatures, or to sit ia an old chicory fabrilt, grinding up rootß aud counting out your money ? You are the real noble pimple. You are the salt of the'.'.nth.' And the wild eyed fantastic girl would snatch the stocking out of her toitirtimtln r's h ind and jump on her k' ce jm<t a< she had 'loneany time during the last liftecu year a (To he continued.)