"Yes, the angel-roses. Oh, come, see, let us go to the angel-roses!"
and he ran down the bank of gra.s.s, and over the lawn among the people.
I was very much surprised at his gleeful impatience, not knowing a whit to what they alluded; and I only marvelled that no one came to fetch him, that we were suffered so long to retain him. We followed, I not even daring to look at the girl who had so expressed herself in my hearing, as to make me feel there were others who also _felt_; and turning the corner of the pavilion, we came into the shadow of a lovely walk planted and arched with lindens. It ran from a side door of the school house to an indefinite distance. We turned into this grove, and there again we found him.
"How green, how ravishing!" he exclaimed, as the sunsprent shadows danced upon the ground. "Oh! that scent of scents, and sweetest of all sweetnesses, the linden flower! You hold with me there, I think?"
"Yes, entirely; and yet it seems just sweet enough to promise, not to be, all sweetness."
"I do not hold with you there. All that is sweet we cherish for itself,--or I do,--and I could not be jealous of any other sweetness when one sweetness filled up my soul."
"Yes," I thought; but I did not express it, even to myself, as it now occurs to me,--"_that_ is the difference between your two temperaments." And so indeed it was: _he_ aspired so high that he could taste all sweetness in every sweetness, even here; _she_--younger, weaker, frailer--could only lose herself between the earth and heaven, and dared not cherish any sweetness to the utmost, while here unsafely wandering.
"And this conservatory,--how do you use it?"
"We do not use it generally; we may walk round it: but on state occasions refreshments are served there to our professors and their friends. I daresay it will be so to-day."
"There will be people in there, you mean? In that case I think I shall remain, and sun myself on the outside. You, Carlomein, shall go in and look at the picture for me."
"Is it a picture, sir? But I cannot see it for you; I should be afraid. I wish you would come in, sir!"
"Ah, I know why! You are frightened lest Aronach should pounce upon you,--is it not?"
I laughed. "A little, sir."
"Well, in that case I _will_ come in. It does look inviting,--pretty room!"
We stopped at the conservatory door. It was rather large, and very long; a table down the centre was dressed with flowers, and overflowing dishes decked the board. There were no seats, but a narrow walk ran round, and over this the foreign plants were grouped richly, and with excelling taste. The roof was not curtained with vine-leaves, as in England, but it was covered with the immense leaves and ivory-yellow blossoms of the magnolia grandiflora, which made the small arched s.p.a.ce appear expanded to immensity by the largeness of its type, and gave to all the exotics an air of home.
At the end of the vista, some thirty feet in length, there were several persons all turned from us; and as we crept along, one by one, until we reached that end, the odors of jasmine and tuberose were heavy upon every breath. I felt as if I must faint until we attained that point where a cool air entered; refreshing, though itself just out of the hottest sunshine I had almost ever felt. This breeze came through arched doors on either hand half open and met in two embracing currents where the picture hung. All were looking at the picture, and I instantly refrained from criticism. It was hung by invisible cords to the framework of the conservatory, and thence depended. About it and around it cl.u.s.tered the deep purple bells and exquisite tendrils and leaves of the maurandia, while the scarlet pa.s.sion-flower met it above and mingled its mystic splendors. Other strange glories, but for me nameless, pressing underneath, shed their glowing smiles from fretted urns or vases; but around the frame, and so close to the picture as to hide its other frame entirely, lay the cool white roses, in that dazzling noon so seeming, and amidst those burning colors. The picture itself was divine as painting can render its earthly ideal, so strictly significant of the set rules of beauty. All know the "Saint Cecilia" of Raphael d"Urbino; this was one of the oldest copies, and was the greatest treasure of the committee, having been purchased for an extravagant sum by the president from the funds of the foundation,--a proceeding I did not clearly comprehend, but was too ignorant to tamper with. It was the young lady who enlightened me as I stood by her side. Of those who stood there I concluded the most part had already refreshed themselves; they held plates or gla.s.ses, and in a few moments first one and then another recognized our companion, and that with a reverential impressiveness it charmed me to behold. It may have been the result of his exquisitely bright and simple manner, for he had wholly put aside the awful serene reserve that had controlled the crowd in public. Milans-Andre happened to be there; I beheld him now, and also saw that, taking hold upon that arm I should not have presumed to touch, he drew on our guide as if away from us.
But this one stayed, and resting his hand upon the table, inquired with politeness for a court,--
"Where is your wife? Is she here to-day? I want to show her to a young gentleman."
Milans-Andre looked down upon him, for he was quite a head taller, though not tall himself. "She is here, but not in here. I left her with the Baroness Silberung. Come and see her in-doors. She will be highly flattered."
"No, I am not coming; I have two children to take charge of. Where is Professor Aronach?"
"In the committee-room, and in a great rage,--with you, too, it appears, Chevalier."
"With me, is it? I am so glad!"
He stepped back to us.
"I do not believe that any one can make him so angry as I can! It is charming, Carlomein!"
Oh, that name, that dear investment! How often it thrilled me and troubled me with delight that day.
"I suppose, sir, I have something to do with it."
Before he could reply, Milans-Andre had turned back, and with scornful complacency awaited him near a gla.s.s dish of ices dressed with ice-plant. He looked revengeful, too, as he helped himself; and on our coming up, he said, "Do you eat nothing, Chevalier?" while filling a plate with the pink-frozen strawberry.
"Oh! I could eat it, if I would; for who could resist that rose-colored snow? But I have no time to eat; I must go find Aronach, for I dreamed I should find him here."
"My dear Chevalier, drink then with me!"
"In Rhine wine? Oh, yes, mein Herr Professor! and let us drink to all other professors and chevaliers in ourselves represented."
The delicately caustic tones in which he spoke were, as it were, sheathed by the unimpeachable grace of his demeanor as he s.n.a.t.c.hed first one, and then another, and the third, of three tall gla.s.ses, and filling them from the tapering bottle to the brim, presented one to the lovely girl who had screened herself behind me, one to myself, and the third to himself; all the while regarding Milans-Andre, who was preparing his own, with a mirthful expression, still one of the very sweetest that could allure the gaze.
When Andre looked up, he turned a curious paleness, and seemed almost stoned with surprise. I could neither understand the one nor the other; but after our pledge, which we two heartily responded to, my maiden companion gave me a singular beckoning nod, which the instant reminded me of Miss Lawrence, and at the same time moved and stood four or five steps away. I followed to the pomegranate plant.
"Come even closer," she whispered; "for I daresay you are curious about those two."
If she had not been, as she was, most unusually beautiful to behold, I should dearly have grudged her that expression,--"those two;" but she constrained me by her sea-blue eyes to attentive silence.
"You see what a power has the greater one over the other. I have never seen _him_ before, but my brother has told me about him; besides, here he is worshipped, and no wonder. The Cecilia School was founded by one Gratianos, a _Bachist_, about forty years ago, but not to succeed all at once, of course; the foundations were too poor, and the intentions too sublime. Louis Spohr"s works brought us first into notice, because our students distinguished themselves at a certain festival four years ago. The founder died about that time, and had not Milans-Andre put himself in the way to be elected president, we should have gone to nothing; but he was rich, and wanted to be richer, so he made of us a speculation, and his name was sufficient to fill the cla.s.ses from all parts of Europe. But we should have worse than gone to nothing soon, for we were slowly crystallizing into the same order as certain other musical orders that shall not be named, for perhaps you would not know what I mean by quoting them."
"I could, if you would explain to me, and I suppose you mean the music that is studied is not so select as it should be."
"That is quite enough to the purpose," she proceeded, with quite an adult fluency. "About three months ago we gave a great concert. The proceeds were for enlarging the premises, and we had a great crowd,--not in the room we used to-day, which is new, but in the large room we shall now keep for rehearsals. After the concert, which Andre conducted, and at which all the prodigies a.s.sisted, the conductor read us a letter. It was from one we had all heard of, and whom many of us loved secretly, and dared not openly, for reasons sad and many,--from the "Young Composer," as Andre satirically chose to call him, the Chevalier Seraphael."
"Oh!" I cried, "is that his name? What a wonderful name! It is like an angel to be called Seraphael."
"Hush! none of that now, because I shall not be able, perhaps, to tell you what I want you to know before you come here. Seraphael had just refused the post of Imperial pianist, which had been pressed upon him very earnestly; and the reason he gave for refusing it certainly stands alone in the annals of artistic policy,--that there was only one composer living to whom the office of Imperial pianist should be confided, and by whom it must be a.s.sumed,--Milans-Andre himself. Then it went on to insinuate that by exclusive exchange only could such an arrangement be effected; in short, that Milans-Andre, who must not go out of Austria, should be prevailed upon, in that case, to resign the humble position that detained him here, to the young composer himself.
Now Milans-Andre did resign, as you may suppose; but, they say, not without a douceur, and we presented him with a gold beaker engraved with his own arms, when he retired,--that was not the douceur, mind; he had a benefit."
"That means a concert, with all the money it brought for himself. But why did you not see the Chevalier until to-day?"
"Some of ours did,--the band and the chorus; but I do not belong to either. You have no idea what it is to serve music under Milans-Andre; and when he came to-day, we all knew what it meant, who were wishing for a new life. It was a sort of electric snapping of our chains when he played to-day."
"With that Volkslied?"
"Yes," she responded, with tremulous agitation, "with that Volkslied.
Who shall say he does not know all hearts?"
"But it is not a Burschen song,[16] nor like one; it is like nothing else."
"No, thank G.o.d! a song for the women as well as the men. You never heard such tones, nor I. Well it was that we could put words to them, everybody there."
"And yet it was a song without words," said a voice so gentle that it stole upon my imagination like a sigh.
"Oh, sir, is it you?"
I started, for he was so near to us I was afraid he might have been vexed by hearing. But she was unchanged, unruffled as a flower of the conservatory by the wind without. She looked at him full, and he smiled into her very eyes.
"I only heard your very last words. Do not be afraid, for I knew you were talking secrets, and that is a play I never stop. But, Carlomein, when you have played your play, I must carry you to your master, whom I might call _ours_, and beg his pardon for all my iniquities."
"Oh, sir! as if you needed," I said; but the young lady answered,--