CHAPTER X.

NEW VIEWS AND NEW SCHEMES.

JACOBI was come; Gabriele complained jest- | ingly to her mother, "that the brother-in-lawelect had almost overturned her, the little sister-in-law-elect, in order to fly to his Louise."

Louise received Jacobi with more than customary cordiality; so did the whole family. What Jacobi had lost in worldly wealth he seemed to have won in the esteem and love of his friends, and it was the secret desire of all to indemnify him, as it were, for the loss of the parsonage. Jacobi on this subject had also his own peculiar views; and after he had refreshed himself with the food that he so much loved, which Louise served up to him in abundance, and after he had had a conference of probably three hours' length with her, the result of the same was laid before the parents, who looked on the new views thus opened to them, not without surprise and disquiet.

she neither now, nor in the future, so far as in you lies, shall miss the paternal home?"

"God help me! so certainly as I will exert myself to effect it, she shall not!" answered Jacobi, with emotion, and gave his hand to the | Judge.

"Go then, children," exclaimed he, " and ask the blessing of your mother-mine you shall have,” and with tearful eyes he clasped them in his arms.

Elise followed the example of her husband. She felt now that Louise and Jacobi's firm devotion to each other; their willingness to work; and their characters, so excellent, and beyond this, so well suited to each other, were more secure pledges of happiness than the greatest worldly treasure. With respect to the time of the marriage, however, she made serious objections. All that the parents could give to their daughter was a tolerably handsome outfit, and this could not by any possibility be so speedily prepared. Louise took her mother's view of the question, and Jacobi saw himself, although reluctantly, compelled to agree that it should remain as at first arranged, namely, for the second day in Whitsuntide, which in this

It was Jacobi's wish and intention now immediately to celebrate his marriage with Louise, and afterwards to go to Stockholm, where he thought of commencing a school for boys. To those who knew that all Jacobi's savings amount-year fell at the end of May. ed to a very inconsiderable capital; that his yearly income was only fifty crowns; that he had displeased his only influential patron; that his bride brought him no dowry; and thus that he had nothing on which to calculate excepting his own ability to work-to all those then who knew thus much, this sudden establishment had some resemblance to one of those romances with their "diner de mon cœur, et souper de mon âme," which is considered in our days to be so infinitely insipid.

But Jacobi, who had already arranged and well considered his plans, laid them with decision and candour before the parents, and besought their consent that he might as soon as possible be able to call Louise his wife. Elise gasped for breath; the Judge made sundry objections, but for every one of these Jacobi had a reasonable and well-devised refutation.

"Are Jacobi's plans yours also, Louise?" asked the Judge, after a momentary silence; "are you both agreed?"

Louise and Jacobi extended a hand to each other; looked on each other and then on the father, with tearful yet with calm and assured eyes.

"You are no longer children," continued the father; "you know what you are undertaking. But have you well considered?"

Both assented that they had. Already, before there had been any expectation of the living, they had thought on this plan.

"It is a fatiguing life that you are stepping into," continued the Judge, seriously, "and not the least so for you, Louise. The result of your husband's undertaking will depend for the greatest part on you Will you joyfully, and without con.plaint, endure what it will bring with it; will you, from your heart, take part in his day's work?"

After this the betrothed hastened to the sisters to communicate to them the new views and schemes. There was many an Oh! and Ah! of astonishment; many a cordial embrace, and then, of course, what industry in the oakleaf garland!

But as the mother at the usual time came in, she saw plainly that "the little lady" was somewhat impatient towards the brother-in-lawelect, and but little edified by his plans.

From that kind of sympathy which exists between minds, even when not a single word is spoken, especially between persons who are dear to each other, the dissatisfaction of Gabriele took possession also of the mother, who began to discover that Jacobi's plans were more and more idle and dangerous. Thus when Jacobi, not long afterwards, sought to have a tête-à-tête with her, in order to talk about his and Louise's plans, she could not help saying that the more she thought about the undertaking the more foolish did it appear to be.

To which Jacobi answered gaily, "Heaven is the guardian of all fools!"

Elise recollected at that moment how it had fared with a person with whom she was acquainted, who hoped for this guardianship in an undertaking that in most respects resembled Jacobi's, yet nothing had prevented all his affairs from going wrong altogether, and at length. ending in bankruptcy and misery. Elise related this to Jacobi.

"Have you not read, mother," replid he, "a wise observation which stands at the end of a certain medical work?"

"No," said she; "what observation is it?" "That what cured the shoemaker killed the tailor," said Jacobi.

Elise could not help laughing, and called him a conceited shoemaker. Jacobi laughed too, "Yes, that I will!" replied Louise with en-kissed Elise's hand, and then hastened to mintire and hearty confidence.

"And you, Jacobi," continued he, with unsteady voice, "will you be father and mother and sisters to her? Will you promise me that

gle in the group of young people, who assembled themselves round the tea table to see and to pass judgment on an extraordinary kind of tea-bread wherewith Louise would welcome

her bridegroom, and which, according to her opinion, besides the freshet freshness, was possessed of many wonderful qualities.

Whilst at tea, the mother whispered slyly into Louise's ear as Jacobi put sugar into his tea, "My dear child, there will be a deal of sugar used in your house-your husband will not be frugal."

Louise whispered back again, "But he will not grumble because too much sugar is used in the house. So let him take it then, let him take it !"

Both laughed.

Later in the evening, as the mother saw Jacobi dance the gallopade with Louise and Gabriele, whilst he made all happy with his joy, and his eyes beamed with life and goodness, she thought to herself-even virtue has her carelessness; and she was well satisfied with his plans.

One day Jacobi related the particulars of his audience with the excellence D., at P., to Louise and her mother; his relation was as follows:

his Excellence with violence, 'like a regular bedlamite have you behaved yourself! Things like this, sir, may do in romance, but in actual life they serve to no other purpose than to make their actors and all that belong to them beggars. But you have unpardonably compromised me! The thousand! you should have thought over all these things and these feelings before you had obtained my recommendation! Can I know of all supplicants with poverty, merits, and nine children? On your account in this business I have written letters; given dinners; made fine speeches; paid compliments in order to silence other claimants. I obtained for you that living, one of the best in the whole bishoprick, and now you have given it away as if it were a ———. It is really too bad! Don't come any more to me; and don't mix me up again in your concerns, that I say to you! I shall for the future meddle in nothing of the kind. Don't you ask me ever again for any thing!'

"I was wounded, but still more distressed than wounded, and said, 'The only thing which "When I came up into the saloon the Bish- I shall ask from you, and shall ask for till I obop N. was coming backwards, with low bows, tain it, is the forgiveness of your Excellence! out of the chamber of his Excellence. Within My error in this affair was great; but after I a powerful voice was heard speaking polite and had seen it, there was nothing for me to do jocular words, and immediately afterwards his but to retrieve it as well as lay in my powExcellence himself, with his foot wrapped in aer, and then to bear the consequences, even woollen sock, accompanied the Bishop out. The lofty figure, clothed now in a dark green morning coat, seemed to me more imposing than ever. He swung a stick in his hand, upon which a grey parrot was sitting, which, while it strove to maintain its balance, screamed with all its might after the Bishop, Adieu to thee! adieu to thee !'

"The sunshine which was diffused over the expressive countenance of his Excellence as he came out of his room, vanished the moment he saw me (I had already informed him by letter of the use I had made of his goodness), and a severe repulsive glance was the only greeting which I received. When the Bishop at length, accompanied by the parting salutations of the parrot, had left, his Excellence motioned the servants out, and riveted upon me his strong, bright, grey eyes, and with an actually oppressive look inquired short and sharp, 'What want you, Sir?'

"I had never seen him behave thus to me before, and whilst I endeavoured to overcome a really choking sensation, I answered, would thank you for the goodness which

I

"Which you have thrown away as if it were a very trifle,' interrupted his Excellence. You must have a confounded many livings at command I think. You can perhaps throw such away on all sides.'

"He spoke these words in a hard ironical tone. I conjured him to hear me; and laid before him shortly, but with the utmost clearness, the reasons which had compelled me to give up the good fortune which his favour had procured for me. I concluded by saying, that the only consolation which I had for my loss, and the danger of having displeased my benefactor, was the feeling that I had done my duty and acted according to my conscience, and the persuasion that I had acted right.

"You have acted like a fool!' interrupted

though they be as bitter as I now find them. Never again shall I make any claim to your goodness-you have already done more than enough for me. My intention is now to try if I cannot maintain myself by my own powers as teacher. I intend to establish a school for boys in Stockholm, whither I shall travel as

soon as

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With this greeting, perhaps the last in the house of his Excellence, I retired; but not without, I must confess, stopping a few moments on the steps and wetting the stones with my tears. It was not the loss of a powerful patron which gave me so much pain, but-I had so admired this man, I had loved him with such an actual devotion; I looked up to him as to one of the noblest and most distinguished of men. He also seemed really to like me-at least I thought so, and now all at once he was so changed, so stern towards me, and as it seemed to me so unreasonable. It actually gave me pain to find so little that was noble in him, so little that was just! These were my feelings in those first bitter moments. When

one. She even was reserved before Leonoie, although she, like a good angel, stood by her side, resting her soft eyes upon her with a tender disquiet, endeavouring to remove from her every annoyance, taking upon herself every painful occupation, and evincing towards her all that anxious care which a mother shews to a sick child. Eva permitted all this, and was daily more and more consumed by her untold men

I came to think over the whole event more calmly, I could almost believe that he had received beforehand an unjust representation of the whole affair, and that I encountered him while under its influence. Over and above, he had reason to be dissatisfied with the whole thing, and then just at that moment a fit of the gout seized him! I have written to him from this place, and I feel it impossible to give up the hope of seeing his sentiments mollified to-tal sufferings. The engrossing cares which at wards me."

Louise, however, did not think so favourably of his sentiments; thought Jacobi quite too indulgent, and was altogether irritated against his Excellence.

"It is quite the best not to trouble oneself about him," said she.

Jacobi smiled. "Poor Excellence!" said he.

CHAPTER XI.

this time occupied the family, prevented almost every one from paying attention to Eva s state of mind, and thus she was often left to herself.

For several of the last evenings Eva had gone down into her own chamber directly after tea-for in their present dwelling some of the daughters occupied the ground-floor-and on the plea of headache had excused herself from again returning to her family during the evening. It was a principle of the parents never to make use of any other means of compulsion with their children, now that they were grown up, than love, be it in great things or in small. But then love had a great power in this family; WHILST May wrote its romance in leaves and and as the daughters knew that it was the highlife; whilst Jacobi and Louise wrote many est delight of their father to see them all round sweet chapters of theirs in kisses; whilst all in him in an evening, it became a principle with the house was in motion on account of the mar- them neither to let temper nor any other unriage, and joy and mirth sprang up to life like necessary cause keep them away. As now, butterflies in the spring sun, one glance was ev-however, this was the third evening on which

A RELAPSE.

er darker, one cheek ever paler, and that was Eva's.

Eva had been absent, the father became uneasy, and the mother went down to her, whilst the rest of the family and some friends who were with them were performing a little concert together. But Eva was not to be found in her chamber, and the mother was hastening back again, full of disquiet, when she met Ulla, who was going to make the beds.

"Where is Eva?" asked she, with apparent indifference.

Ulla started, was red and then pale, and answered hesitatingly, "She is gone out-I fancy."

"Where is she gone ?" asked Elise, suddenly uneasy.

"I fancy-to the grave of the young master," returned Ulla.

"To the grave?-so late! Has she gone there or several evenings ?" inquired the mother.

"This is now the third evening," said Ulla : "Ah, best, gracious lady, it goes really to my heart-it is not justly right there!"

People say commonly that love is a game for the man, and a life's-business for the woman. If there be truth in this, it may arise from this cause, that practical life makes commonly too great a demand on the thoughts and activity of the man for him to have much time to spend on love, whilst on the contrary the woman is too much occupied with herself to have the power of withdrawing herself from the pangs of love (may the Chamberlain's lady forgive us talking so much about man and woman! It has not been our lot here in the world to scour either a room or a kettle, though, to speak the truth, we do not consider ourselves incapable of so doing). Eva found nothing in her peaceful home which was powerful enough to abstract her from the thoughts and feelings which for so long had been the dearest to her heart. The warm breezes of spring, so full of love, fanned up that glimmering fire; so did also that innocent life of the betrothed, so full of cordiality and happiness; so did also a yet more poisonous wind. "That Mamselle Eva goes out to the grave One piece of news which this spring brought so late, and does not come back again till it has was the betrothal of Major R. with one of the struck ten, and that she will be so much alone," beauties of the capital, a former rival of Eva-returned Ulla. "Yesterday Mamselle Leonore news which caused a deep wound to her heart. She wished to conceal, she wished to veil what was yet remaining of a love which no one had favoured, and over which she could not now do other than blush; she had determined never again to burden and grieve her family with her weakness, her sorrows; she would not disturb the peace, the cheerfulness, which now again began to reign in the family, after the misfortunes which had shaken it, but under the endeavour to bear her burden alone, her not strong Greatly disturbed by what she had heard, spirit gave way. She withdrew more and more Elise hastened to seek her husband. She found from the family circle; became ever more silent him deeply engaged over his books and papers, and reserved, sought for solitude, and was un-but he left all the moment he saw the troubled willing to have her solitude disturbed by any countenance of his wife. She related to him

"What is not justly right, Ulla?"

even cried, and begged of her not to go, or to allow her to go with her. But Mamselle Eva would not let her, but said she would not go, and that Mamselle Leonore should go up stairs, and leave her alone; but as soon as Mamselle Leonore had left her she went out for all that, with only a thin kerchief over her head. And this evening she is gone out also. Ah! it must be a great grief which consumes her, for she gets paler every day!"

what she had heard from Ulla, and informed hirm that it was her intention to go now immediately to the churchyard.

"I will go with you," said the Judge, "only tell Louise to defer supper for us till we come back; I fancy nobody will miss us, they are so occupied by their music."

No sooner said than done. The husband and wife went out together; it was half-past nine in the middle of May, but the air was cold, and a damp mist fell.

"Good heavens !" said the Judge softly, "she'll get her death of cold if she stops in the churchyard so late, and in air like this!"

was open. This feeling, this love for him-Oh, it has swallowed up my whole soul! For som time I believed I should be able to conquer it—. but now I believe so no longer—"

"Do you repent of your renunciation ?" asked Leonore; "it was so noble of you! Would you yet be united to him ?"

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No, no! the time for that is gone by," said Eva. "I would rather die than that; but you see, Leonore, I loved him so I have tasted love, and have felt how rapturous, how divine life might be !-Oh, Leonore, the bright sunwarm summer-day is not more unlike this misty evening hour, than the life which I lived for a season is unlike the future which now lies before me!"

"It seems so to you now, Eva-you think so now," answered her sister; "but let a little

As they approached the churchyard, they saw that a female form passed hastily through the gate. It was not Eva, for she sat on the grave of her brother; she sate there immoveable upon the earth, and resembled a ghost. The church-time pass over, and you will see that it will be yard was, with this exception, deserted. The figure which had entered before them, softly approached the grave, and remained standing at the distance of a few paces.

"Eva!" said a beseeching mournful voice; it was Leonore. The parents remained standing behind some thick-leaved fir-trees. On precisely the same spot had the father stood once before, and listened to a conversation of a very different kind.

"Eva!" repeated Leonore, with an expression of the most heartfelt tenderness.

"What do you want with me, Leonore ?" asked Eva, impatiently, but without moving. "I have aleady prayed you to let me alone."

"Ah! I cannot leave you, dear Eva!" replied her sister, "why do you sit her on the ground, on this cold, wet evening. Oh, come home with me!"

"Do you go home, Leonore! this air is not proper for you! Go home to the happy, and be merry with them," returned Eva.

"Do you not remember," tenderly pleaded Leonore, "how I once, many years ago, was sick both in body and mind? Do you know who it was then that left the gay in order to comfort me? I prayed her to leave me-but she went not from me-neither will I now go away from you."

"Ah, go! leave me alone!" repeated Eva, "I stand now alone in the world!"

quite otherwise; that the painful feelings will subside, and life will clear up itself before you. Think only how it has already afforded you pleasure to look up to heaven when the clouds separated themselves, and you said, 'see how bright it will be! how beautiful the heaven is!' and your blue eyes beamed with joy and peace, because it was so. Believe me, Eva, the good time will come again, in which you will thus look up to heaven, and feel thus joyful and thus gay!"

"Never!" exclaimed Eva, weeping; "Oh, never will that time return! Then I was innocent, and from that cause I saw heaven above me become clear-now so much that is bad, so much that is impure has stained my soulstains it yet!-O Leonore, if you only knew all that I have felt for some time you would never love me again! Would you believe it that Louise's innocent happiness has infused bitterness into my soul; that the gaiety which has again begun to exist in the family has made me feel bitterness towards my own family-my own beloved ones! Oh, I could detest myself! I have chastised myself with the severest words -I have prayed with bitter tears, and yet-"

"Dear Eva, you must have patience with yourself," said Leonora, "you will not—"

"Ah, I am already weary of myself, of my life!" hastily interrupted Eva; "I am like some one who has already travelled far, who is al"Eva, you distress me!" said her sister, ready spent, but who must still go on, and can "you know that there is no one in this world never come to his journey's end. It seems to that I love like you: I mourned so much when me as if I should be a burden to all who belong you left us-the house without you seemed to me; and when I have seen you all so happy, empty, but I consoled myself with the thought so gay one with another, I have felt my heart that Eva will soon come back again. You and my head burn with bitterness; then have I came, and I was so joyfull, for I believed that been obliged to go out-out into the cold evenwe should be so happy together. But I haveing dew, and I have longed to repose in the seen since how little consequence I am to you! | still I love you as much as ever, and if you think that I have not sympathized in your sorrows, that I have not wept with you and for you, you do me certainly injustice! Ah, Eva, many a night, when you have believed perhaps that I lay in sweet sleep, have I sate at your door, and listened how you wept, and have wept for you, and prayed for you, but I did not dare to come in to you because I imagined your heart to be closed to me!" And so saying, Leonore wept bitterly.

"You are right, Leonore," answered Eva, "muck has become closed in me which once

earth upon which it fell-I have longed to be able to hide myself from every one-deep, deep in the grave below!"

"But from me," said Leonore, "you will not be able to hide yourself; nor to go from me, since where you go there will I follow. Oh, what were life to me if you were to leave it in despair! You would not go alone to the grave, Eva. I would follow you there; and if you will not allow that I sit by your side, I will seat myself on the churchyard wall, that the same evening damps which penetrate you may penetrate me also; that the same night wind which chills your bosom may chill mine; that I may

be laid by your side and in the same grave with you. And willingly would I die for you, if— you will not live for me, and for the many who love you so much. We will try all things to make you happier. God will help us, and the day will come in which all the bitter things of this time will seem like a dream, and when all the great and beautiful feelings, and all the agreeable impressions of life will again revive in you. You will again become innocent-nay, become more, because virtue is a higher, a glorified innocence. O Eva, if he whose dust reposes beneath us, if his spirit invisibly float around us if he who was better and purer than all of us, could make his voice audible to us at this moment, he would certainly join with me in the prayer-'O Eva, live-live for those who love thee. Mortal life, with all its anguish and its joy, is soon past; and then it is so beautiful that our life should have caused joy to one another on earth; it causes joy in heaven. The great Comforter of all affliction will not turn from thee; only do not thou turn from Him! Have patience; tarry out your time. Peace comes, comes certainly—"

The words ceased; both sisters had clasped their arms round each other, and mingled their tears. Eva's head rested on Leonore's shoulder as she, after a long pause, spoke in a feeble voice:

"Say no more, Leonore; I will do what you wish. Take me; make of me what you will; I am too weak to sustain myself at this moment-support me; I will go with you; you are my good angel."

Other guardian angels approached just then, and clasped the sisters in a tender embrace. Conducted by them, Eva returned home. She was altogether submissive and affectionate, and besought earnestly for forgiveness from all. She was very much excited by the scenes which had just occurred, drank a composing draught which her mother administered, and then listened to Leonore, who read to her, as she lay in bed, till she fell asleep.

The Judge paced up and down his chamber uneasily that night, and spoke thus to his wife, who lay in bed.

"A journey to the baths, and that in company with you, would be quite the best thing for her. But I don't know how I can do without you; and more than that, where the money is to come from. We have had great losses, and see still great expenses before us: in the first place Louise's marriage; and then, without a little money in hand, we cannot let our girls go from home; and the rebuilding of our house. But we must borrow more money; I see no other way. Eva must be saved, her mind must be enlivened and her body strengthened let it cost what it may. I must see and borrow

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"Five-and-twenty years ago," began she. Five-and-twenty years?" interrupted he, "heaven help me, you promised to go no farther back than fifteen."

"Patience, my love; this is part the first of my story. Do you not remember, then," said she, "how, five-and-twenty years ago, at the commencement of our married life, you made plans for a journey into the beautiful native land of your mother? I see now, Ernst, that you remember it. And how we should wander there you planned, and enjoy our freedom and God's lovely nature; you were so joyful in the prospect of this; but then came adversity, and cares, and children, and never-ending labour for you, so that our Norwegian journey retreated more and more into the background. Nevertheless, it remained like a point of light to you in the future; but now for some time you seem to have forgotten it; for you have given up all your own pleasures in labouring for your family; have forsaken all your own enjoyments, your own plans, for your own sphere of activity and your home. But I have not forgotten the Norwegian journey, and in fifteen years have obtained the means of its accomplishment." "In fifteen years! what do you mean?" asked he.

"Now I am arrived," she answered, " at part the second of my history. Do you still remember, Ernst, that fifteen years ago we were not so happy as we are now? You have forgotten? Well, so much the better; I scarcely remember it myself any more, for the expansive rind of love has grown over the black scar. What I, however, know is, that at that time I was not so properly at home in actual life, anď did not rightly understand all the good that it offered me, and that to console myself on that account I wrote a romance. But now it happened that by reason of my romance characters I neglected my duties to my lord and husband, for the gentlemen are decidedly unskilled in serving themselves—

"Very polite !" interposed the Judge, smiling. "Be content!" continued she, " now it happened that one evening his tea and my romance came into collision-a horrible story followed. But I made a vow in my heart that one of these days the two rivals should become reconciled. Now you see my manuscript you had the goodness to call it rubbish-I sent to a very enlightened man, a man of distinguished taste and judgment, and thus it befell, he found taste in the rubbish; and, what say you to it? paid me a pretty little sum for permission to bring it before the world. Do not look so grave, Ernst ; I have never again taken up the pen to write romances; my own family has found me enough to do; and besides, I never again could wish to do anything which was not pleasant to you. You have displaced all rivals, do you see! But this one I decided should be the means of your taking the Norwegian journey. The little sum of two hundred crowns banco which it produced me have I placed in the savings' bank for this purpose, and in fifteen years it has so much augmented itself that it will perfectly accom"What sort of a history can that be?" said plish that object; and if ever the time for its he, smiling gaily, while he seated himself on employment will come, it is now. The desire the bed, and took the hand which Elise extend-for travelling is gone from me-I covet now ed to him.

"It is not necessary, Ernst," said Elise; and the Judge, making a sudden pause, gazed at her with astonishment; while she, half raising herself in bed, looked at him with a countenance beaming with joy. "Come," continued ɛhe, "and I will recal something to your memory which occurred fifteen years ago."

only rest. But you and