# The Garret-Window

Translation of "Das Dachfenster" from Erzählungen und Schwänke volume 1 (1818). Published in four parts in The Kaleidoscope; or, Literary and Scientific Mirror (1824): parts one, two, three, and four.
THE GARRET-WINDOW.
[ORIGINAL TRANSLATION, BY SPERANS, FROM THE GERMAN OF FREDERIC LAUN.]
Chapter 1st. The one thing needful.—I had scarcely paid the usual fees for my new employment when all my acquaintances showed themselves so over-anxious for my future happiness, that they almost succeeded in making me despair of it. The ladies, in particular, teazed me most unmercifully, by continually telling me, in a direct or an indirect manner, that there was no salvation without the bonds of lawful wedlock.
“Is it not true, my dear,” said a highly-gifted dame to her husband, “is it not true that the Comptroller does but half enjoy his life as long as he remains single?” The question was made rather abruptly, but it was accompanied with so penetrating a glance that the addressed person would have been guilty of absolute rudeness if the answer had not been implicitly confirmative. “Haller, you want a home, my dear,” said another; “without a fixed home man is but a miserable creature.”
I was unwilling to give offence to the fair advocates of holy matrimony, but I was equally loath to acknowledge the utter helplessness of my bachelorship, and contented myself with shrugging up my shoulders in silence. This, however, did not settle the business. I was told that such and such opportunities had escaped me very lately, and that men, in much less prosperous circumstances than myself, gave daily proofs of their actual veneration for the old and praiseworthy institution.
If I happened to take a pretty child in my arms, one lady would remark how well it became me, whilst another snatched the infant from me, and said that I had no right to amuse myself with other people’s property and acquirements. Such scenes would sometimes take place in the presence of unmarried females; and they were generally at a loss how or which way to look. Sometimes they pretended neither to hear nor to see; but, when now and then a woeful and striking picture of a lonely old man was held up to my consideration, the good-natured creatures could not help casting a modest glance on my countenance to observe the effect which the example might have produced on my spirits.
Chapter 2d. A confirmed Old Bachelor.—My embarrassments were still greater when I chanced to visit some of my married friends at a time that there were no strangers with them. They, then, thought themselves still more entitled to an uncontroled criticism on my arrangements, and they gave full career to their whims. They knew most eligible persons, and they were ready to assist me to the utmost. The proposed person was, of course, either a relation or one otherwise connected with the family, and she was represented in such a manner that nobody could have recognised the original; because virtue, intellect, accomplishments, and beauty were so lavishly imparted to one individual that there remained hardly any thing for others, although I might sometimes hear the very same qualities ascribed to other people who had no similarity whatever to the first-named.
All this lasted a good while, and, indeed, so long that several of the proposed females had either got other husbands or withdrawn from the lists: some had even done worse; and some of the married ones had not turned out quite so well as had been anticipated by their sanguine appraisers. I found now and then an opportunity to convey such remarks to the proper quarter, and they were received with the half-joking and half-vexed observation, “Oh! I see how it is; you will never get married.” This opinion, once fairly established, allowed me a little more quiet, and I began to think myself safe.
Chapter 3d. New Prospects.—Heaven had ordained it otherwise. A very amiable and pretty girl, the daughter of a country-collector, came, for the first time, to town. Her father was acquainted with most of my friends, and I met him and his daughter almost every day in company, The candid manner in which the young lady expressed her astonishment at some of the town-fashion would often produce a smile, and it procured her the appellation of nature’s own daughter: but this was exactly what pleased me, and I liked to converse with Miss Ida. At the same time, I could not help remarking that she had very fine sparkling eyes and a lively countenance, to which her curly hair imparted additional charms. I felt more and more attracted; and my attentions were soon observed by the witnesses. The whole of my female acquaintances surrounded me one evening, and congratulated me on my conversion. I awoke as out of a dream, and offered to plead not guilty; but my endeavours were vain, and facts spoke too clearly against me. There could be no doubt of my being finally captivated by the beauty and other qualities of the fair damsel; and to make security doubly sure, the match-makers told me, moreover, that there would be not only a good sum forthcoming as a marriage-portion, but that there were also considerable expectations from various quarters.
Chapter 4th. The Hint.—“Well,” said one of my patronesses, “have you bespoken a place for to-morrow’s solemnity?” “Not I,” said I, smiling; “a single man can easily shift for himself on such occasions.” “Oh! but you are not single now; such selfish considerations must no longer guide you, my good Sir: Ida longs to see the whole of the procession, and her father is a stranger in town; you would not, surely, let them both stand in the street.” The hint was broad enough, and could only be answered by my taking leave, to go in quest of proper accommodations.
Chapter 5th. Two Louisd’or.—The reception was to take place at the very gates of the town, where the public authorities were to make speeches, and virgins in white garments to present flowers. The spot was confined, and few of the houses in the neighbourhood seemed to afford a good prospect. I had vainly examined them all, and hurt myself in many, in ascending the dark and narrow stair-cases, which led to most of the upper-rooms. The windows and balconies, which offered any chance, were all bespoken. Nevertheless, I could not return with such a message; because speaking to women of impossibilities, when the gratification of their curiosity is the object proposed, is like preaching to the fishes; and I knew how I should be received. I returned once more to the landlord of the Golden Fox, and offered him two louisd’or. He reflected a little, and then said, “I have a garret-window, in my private house, undisposed of; and I shall feel very happy in obliging you with it, if it will answer your purpose. I accepted without hesitation, and ordered a breakfast for three persons.
Chapter 6th. The Golden Rule.—“You have spent a long time over your errand,” was my welcome. “Alas!” I replied, “and after all I have but indifferently succeeded. I made my report, and the lady of the house seemed to be but half pleased; some of the visitors were, however, more reasonable, and acknowledged that none but a true lover could have done as much. It was certainly awkward that we should only see the head of the expected monarch, which, besides being very bald, had never been the most brilliant part about him; but thousands of others would not even get a glance of that, and Ida had every reason to be thankful. The fair spinster had not joined ​in the conversation whilst I was relating the progress of my adventures; but her beautiful eyes had been turned towards me in the kindest manner, and they had spoken volumes. When I finally sat down near her, she regretted her having given me so much trouble; but an old lady, overhearing it, cried out, ‘Never mind, my dear; men should not have things made easy to them; the harder we make them work for our favours the higher they prize them: keep that uppermost in your memory, for it is what we experienced ones call the golden rule.’ I perceived that much had been said to the girl during my absence, and that all had been in my favour: there appeared a general rage for bringing us together, and the attempts were not always the most delicate. Ida herself seemed to be aware of these improprieties, and the disapprobation which I read in her glances, endeared her still more to my fancy. I resigned myself piously to my fate, and said within myself, “God’s will be done in this as in all things!”—The entertainments given on our account followed each other in endless succession; we were again both invited for the next day’s dinner; and my affairs did not well agree with so many amusements: but I knew that my friends would have been mortally offended at any attempt to withdraw, and I could not but comply. “To-morrow, at nine o’clock,” said I, on taking leave for the evening. “You shall not have to wait,” was the reply.
Chapter 7th. Scruples.—As early as seven in the morning I heard already the footsteps of the multitude in the direction of the appointed meeting-place; and as there appeared great hurry and bustle among the crowd, I began to think that the arrival of his Majesty was near at hand. On inquiry, I actually learned that he would come about an hour before the fixed time, and that the council-men were already at their respective posts. I lost not a moment, but ran forthwith towards the collector’s residence: finding no servant in the anti-room, I entered the parlour, where I found Ida at her toilet. She was greatly alarmed at my abrupt entrance, and sprang with the exclamation of “God in heaven!” into a side-room. I found, however, that there was no real ground for the young lady’s terror: since her morning-dress had every requisite decency, and mother nature had been so bountiful towards her, that she stood in little need of artificial embellishments. A sulky-looking servant protruded her face, soon after, through the half-opened door, and exhorted me to patience. In a short time papa made also his appearance, and showed his surprise at my early presence. I explained, and he urged his daughter to conclude, as quickly as possible, the labours of her toilette. She promised compliance; but the collector advised me to go and take possession of the window, because no engagement could be considered secure under such circumstances, and he would follow with Miss Ida as soon as possible.
​Chapter 8th. The Prisoner.—On my arrival at the Golden Fox, I found that my friend had been perfectly correct in his apprehensions for our places. The door of the bespoken room was locked; and, upon repeatedly knocking and shaking at it, I was at last answered by a request not to be so rude. I replied, that the rudeness was not on my side; and that I thought it very singular to be kept out of a room for which I paid so dearly.—During this explanation an elderly female came up stairs, knocked at the door, and said, “It is I, my dear, pray open.” Immediately the door opened, and a voice, which appeared twice as sweet as it had sounded the first time, said, “Come in, dear aunt.” I offered to follow, but was not quick enough; and only the flap of my coat was caught by the door as it was suddenly shut in my face. Under any other circumstances I should have laughed at the accident; but I found it impossible to do so at that moment. Unwilling, however, to betray the awkwardness of my situation, I merely continued to insist on gaining admittance; though the recollection of the sweet voice prevented me from urging my claims quite so imperatively as I otherwise should have done. I thanked God on hearing fresh steps on the staircase. Two gentlemen were seeking for windows, and asked me whether the garret would answer? I replied in the affirmative; and added, that some obstinate people in the inside wanted to keep it to themselves. Upon this, they ran down again to summon the landlord to the spot; but I heard no more of them, and they had, probably, met with other accommodations. At last, the fat host made his appearance, and asked whether I wished to have the breakfast brought up? I answered, angrily, that he must first keep his contract, and clear the room. “So, so,” he said, “then the little vixen persists in her obstinacy. Pray Miss open the door, or I’ll fetch the master-key.” “Do if you dare,” was the reply, “I shall have you before the magistrate for letting my room, whilst I pay my rent honestly and regularly.” “How is this?” inquired I with astonishment. “Well,” said mine host, “she has certainly taken the room some time ago; but it was for the year, and not for such extraordinary occasions. You offered me two Louis d’or; and I thought surely that a little milliner would be thankful to get a dollar or two out of the money, merely for giving up the room during one day, or rather during a couple of hours. I have even offered her as much as three dollars, but she would not consent to give it up; and I then thought that your own presence would produce more effect.” “You are a base man,” I ejaculated. “I beg you will not mention any such thing,” retorted mine host; “you gentlemen with fixed salaries have fine talking; but place yourself in my situation, with rent and taxes to pay in times like the present; two Louisd’or are not to be sneezed at; nor should a little milliner have refused three dollars. The people who take boxes at the theatre, do also take them for the whole year; but as often as new pieces or fresh performers make their appearance, a bonnement suspendu is put upon the play-bill. To day we have both a new piece and a grand performer; therefore I say a bonnement généralement suspendu.” “You are a vulgar good-for-nothing man,” I exclaimed. “I am your most obedient humble servant,” replied the host again, “but my banker will tell you a different story, and as long as my character stands well with him, I never mind what others think or say about it.” At that moment the collector came with his daughter, and said that it was high time, since the out-riders were already in sight. I stated my case, and Miss Ida called it a pretty story, betraying at the same time every mark of vexation. She resolved to stand in the street, rather than be disappointed altogether; and she was actually walking down again when I asked for a pair of scissors, with a fury which made her father turn round and discover my embarrassing predicament. “What! are you a captive?” he cried; but at that very moment the door opened, and the fair occupant said, with an elegant courtesy, “I beg your pardon; I was not prepared for this, but you will admit that the insulting offer of the landlord could not but be disagreeable. Moreover, I had offered the window to my aunt, and could not dispose of it without her consent: yet now, when she is herself willing to retire”—“Impossible!” I interrupted her, “the more I esteem your politeness, the less I ought to abuse it.” The collector and his daughter stared at me, and the latter said, in a whisper, that I observed rather too much ceremony with such people. In the mean time the two females had passed us, and the elder one assured us that they should see the procession in her own house, and that the reception itself must be more interesting to Miss Ida, than to her, who had seen such things before. I recollected the countenance and figure of the niece as having struck me very often; and I was glad to know where she lived, although the circumstance of her being called a little milliner, acted rather as a drawback on my pleasure. I looked after her whilst she was crossing the street; and, tracing her among the crowd, I leaned so far out of the window, that my companions were pleased to express an apprehension lest I should fall out altogether. This observation made me also remark, that the collector had been all the while walking up and down in the little room. I felt ashamed of my rudeness, and ran out to look after the ordered breakfast, although my guests assured me that there was no need to do so.
Chapter 9th. Foolish Whims.—“My dear host,” I said, as soon as I had got a fair hold of the good man’s greasy coat, “Pray tell me whatever you know of the girl in the little room.” “Oh, oh!” he replied, “then she has charmed you, as well as some of my other guests; but it is all of no use, there is nothing to be done with her. I have been often commissioned to make the most brilliant offers to her, and from very nice gentlemen too; but the foolish thing has no idea of management. Virtue is fine enough, when you have wherewithal to support it; but what is the use of it without money? and of that she has a plentiful lack: not for want of means to get it, even in her business; because she is very clever, and earns a good deal: but what do you think she does with it? I am sure you could never guess. She pays all away to a set of ragged people, who have come to loss by her late father; because she cannot bear the idea of their curses following the dead man to his grave. Did you ever hear of such foolish imaginations? when people have once departed this life, it matters not what their old neighbours think of them. Pray who was her father? Oh! he was great enough in his time; but none of the best house-keepers, I suppose. The girl’s mother brought him a very handsome fortune; but it all went away as well as his own. Lo! behold the young person coming back again; what the deuce can she want in such a hurry?” I stood behind the door, and looked through the crevice at the milliner, who approached in great agitation, and told the landlord that she was in great distress on account of her aunt, who had been overpowered by the pressure of the crowd, and lay ill in the next street. Some time ago the same accident had happened to her in the garret, and a bottle of something which the host had given to her, had procured immediate relief: she now came to request the loan of the same. “My dear Miss,” said the man, “this day’s confusion has even deprived me of my little bottle: a careless waiter wanted to remove it from a window-corner, and dropped it on the ground; the whole chamber smells yet of eau de Cologne.
Chapter 10th. Haste.—“Is it eau de Cologne you want?” said I, forgetting my incognito: “you shall have some immediately. I ran up stairs like lightning; because I recollected that Miss Ida had some. In my hurry I knocked down a man on the dark landing, and begged ten thousand pardons, without stopping for an explanation. I made my request, by stating that somebody had suddenly been taken ill; and the young lady thought it was a gentleman belonging to the deputation, who looked remarkably pale. I did not attempt to contradict her; for I wanted to be off again; and as soon as I had got hold of the specific, I returned quite as quickly as I had come.
Chapter 11th. The Cure.—“You have put your guest into a fine plight!” said the host, when I came back. I heard the words, without caring for their meaning, and handed the flacon to the fair petitioner. “I am infinitely obliged to you,” she said, and offered to go: but there was no getting through the crowd; and she looked round with anxiety. She appeared hardly able to support herself; and I could not do less than offer my arm. I had great difficulty in keeping off the crowd with my left elbow, but we did at length get to the other side of the street; where I might have been dismissed. But I pretended to think that I had but half fulfilled my duty, in as much as the remedy might not prove efficacious, and it would then be necessary to procure a physician. We arrived at the house where the aunt was, who had not yet recovered, and was, in some measure, alone; because the woman who had been left with her, finding it impossible to resist the attractions in the street, was looking out of the window. I tried myself to administer the restoring drops, and the success answered our expectations. The most grateful looks from both the ladies rewarded me beyond my merit; and the young one began to make me some excuses about the disagreeable scene at her chamber door. ​I protested that it was I who had to ask pardon for having disturbed her, but she replied that her refusal to open the door had been chiefly founded on the belief that I wanted to be alone with her; and that, consequently, she had been very wrong in judging of me by the conduct of others, from whom I seemed to differ in every respect. “My God!” she exclaimed then, “I now perceive that the ceremony is over, and that I have made you lose your time as well as your money.” Pray do not be distressed on that account,” said I, “the moments which I have spent with you could not possibly have been better employed. I have long wished to become acquainted with you, though you may never have noticed me.” “Supposing, however, that I had,” was the reply, “must not the difference in our circumstances have made me anxious to avoid an intimacy, rather than to encourage it?” “Then I beg that you will not, henceforward look upon our circumstances as an inseparable barrier.” “Mr. Haller, I have often had reason to repent of my having chosen my dwelling so near to an inn; but I did it in compliance with the request of a lady who lodged there, and who wished to have me within call. Men are but too apt to suppose that poverty opens the way to seduction; and, unfortunately, there is no want of examples to confirm the belief. I have sometimes considerable trouble in keeping intruders at a distance; and even some of the neighbours conceive themselves at liberty to use little ceremony with a person in my situation. What would they think if they saw me hold much communication with you?” “Think! well let them believe that we have business to transact; and, in order to make their belief a true one, I can let you have employment. I understand that you embroider in a superior manner, and it is in my power to recommend you.” “In that case, I can immediately show you something which my aunt happens to have in her care.” The piece was produced, and it actually proved to be finished in the best taste. I declared, forthwith, that I would take it as a specimen, and that she might fix her own price.
​Chapter 12th. Fancies.—I found the street quite altered when I returned to it; instead of the former bustle and pressure, there was now hardly a person to be met with; because the crowd had followed the monarch to the interior of the town. At my arrival at the inn, the waiter asked whether he should now bring up the breakfast? “What!” cried I, “you have not served it up yet?” “It was merely on account of your absence,” replied the man. “Well, let us have it then as quickly as you can; but where are my guests?” The garret was as empty as the street, and I had to breakfast alone. For this, however, I felt no inclination, and I asked for wine instead of it: with every fresh glass the image of the fair Emma presented itself in a more lively manner before me; and I began to be convinced, for the first time, that my friends had been perfectly correct in blaming my single state, and that I now wanted a wife, as much as I had before wanted a living; “but my dear Comptroller,” said I to myself, “would it not be rather a youthful trick to marry all at once, post haste; and whom? an embroiderer, forsooth! consider well about it, and remember all the unfortunate marriages which have been contracted in a hurry, and repented of at leisure.
Chapter 13th. The Note.—Whilst I was thus musing, a pretty white pigeon came flying through the open window: a happy sign, I thought; perhaps sent on purpose by the goddess of love! The pigeon was, moreover, so tame, that it walked about on the table, to pick up some bread-crumbs: I saw, also, that it had a piece of fine paper fastened to its neck with a red tape; and, as it made no resistance, I laid hold of it, and found the following billet: “Dear Emma, I am almost out of my senses: I have neither seen you nor heard of you all yesterday; and if it is to be so again this day, I shall surely die. Hasten, oh! hasten into the arms of him who cannot live without you.” I squeezed the note, convulsively, in my hand, and put it into my pocket; the pigeon stood, for some time, quietly before me, as if waiting for the accustomed answer, but I pushed the winged messenger so rudely from me, that I was soon left alone. The lines were writ​ten in a very fine, running, and bold hand, to which I wished, for the time being, every imaginable evil.
Chapter 14th. Incidents.—“Allow me the honour,” said some one, tapping me on the shoulder. I stared, as if awaking out of a dream, and lo! the fat landlord stood before me, with his large box, offering a pinch of snuff. I shook my head in silence. “You seem to be rather displeased, Mr. Haller—but who would not? The Corporation got pretty well out of the business; but the Institution, oh dear! oh dear!” I scarcely knew in what language the man was speaking, and looked at him with astonishment. “Well,” he continued, “do not you think yourself, that the University ought to have sent a better deputy?—the story will do us a vast deal of credit abroad.”—“What story?” I asked in my turn. “Bless me! have you not seen the sight? The gentleman’s sword got entangled between his legs, and he had not quite finished saying ‘Most magnanimous’ when he fell at the feet of his Majesty, with his nose in the mire.”—“Much good may it do to him,” said I, peevishly: “what do I care?”—“Oh! just as you please: but I see the young lady has already removed her best things.” I looked about, and missed a most elegant piece of embroidery, which had been in the frame; and the room appeared also otherwise in a state of disorder, which had not struck me before.
Chapter 15th. A Reprimand.—The Collector entered at that moment in breathless haste; and, after having looked about, with a show of surprise, he inquired for his daughter. I was surprised, in my turn, and said that I did not know what had become of her. He appeared almost choked with passion, and cried, “But when you knocked me down on the landing.”—“Good heavens! and was that you?”—“Who else should it have been? But I then left Ida in the room, and you found her, I suppose.”—“Oh! yes, then I found her, but I had afterwards an indispensible message to attend to.”—“Mighty well! Mr. Comptroller; and you left my poor girl to herself, in such a place, and on a day like this? You, who had invited us, and to whom I had stated that I should have to join a friend for about half an hour! Truly, Sir, there is something so remarkably singular in your conduct, that I should not be master of my feelings if I were to stay a moment longer.” He actually left us very abruptly.
Chapter 16th. Explanations.—“Excuse my liberty,” said mine host; “but is Miss Ida your intended bride?” Under existing circumstances, I thought myself fully authorized to answer with a very loud and intelligible “No.” “In that case, I may as well tell you that you had no sooner crossed the street than I heard a good deal of coughing in the higher regions, and when I looked up, I found that it proceeded from the fair damsel in the garret window, who nodded to somebody in the crowd. I was not long in finding out the happy individual to be a fresh-looking young gentleman, who made also corresponding signs upwards. They seemed to produce the desired effect, for soon after the female slipped through the door, and both she and her beau disappeared in an instant.”
Chapter 17th. Embarrassments.—“So, so,” I thought, after I had arrived at home, “I have made a fine morning’s work of it; and the afternoon is not likely to be much in my favour. How am I to face the company at dinner, and what can I say for myself? It would, perhaps, be best to be suddenly taken ill, and thus excuse myself from going: but no; I should by that means allow very unfavourable constructions to be put upon my conduct; and since heavy charges are likely to be made, I had better stand on my defence, and face them out at once.” In the mean time, I felt more uneasiness about the unfortunate paper of the pigeon than about all the rest. I had only been half persuaded into the fitness of my marrying Miss Ida, by the importunity of my friends; whereas my feelings for Miss Emma were genuine, and nothing short of the billet could have disturbed them.
Chapters 18th and 19th. Worse and worse.—“Oh! here he comes at last,” exclaimed the lady of the house; and the whole company turned round, with forced smiles, to welcome my entrance. There was, however, great astonishmentt when it appeared that I came without either the Collector or his daughter, and that I could not even tell what had become of them: but dinner had been so long delayed on our account, that it could not be put off any longer, and it was served up. I occupied a very conspicuous place, because it was between two empty chairs, and I had before me a large tart, which was the chief ornament of the table, and upon which I perceived two entwined letters of rose-coloured sugar, which were evidently the initials of Ida and Charles. The other guests were aware of the circumstance as well as myself; but I pretended not to understand their significant nods. The ceremony of the day furnished, of course, matter of conversation during dinner, and I was often appealed to when contested points were discussed, because none of the persons present had been so favourably placed as I was supposed to have been. I endeavoured to get through the business by shrugging my shoulders, smiling at what had been said by the gentlemen, and affirming what had been advanced by the ladies; but all would not do, and I had sometimes to speak decisively. For instance, when the fall of the learned Protector was mentioned, a young merchant, who was a lieutenant in the militia, gave it as his opinion that the man ought to be punished for bringing disgrace upon the town, and he expected me to confirm his verdict; but I could not find it in my heart, and I declared that the honour of the country would perhaps be best preserved if such mummeries were omitted altogether. This bold assertion did not seem to give much pleasure, and the ominous manner in which one of the fathers of the town shook his head predicted me no good; but I was not in a frame of mind to stop at local considerations. Another accident was said to have taken place, of which I then heard for the first time. A flock of sheep had been driven by some street lads in the rear of the young ladies who were to present poems and flowers to the monarch, and the animals had been goaded to such a degree, that, in their despair, they overturned every thing on their passage; and the leader of the virgins was asserted to have come into such close contact with a strong wether, that she had taken an involuntary ride on his back, and had actually been carried to a considerable distance. Several guests denied the latter circumstance, and I joined them, by proving a priori the impossibility of the situation, unless freely and willingly adopted by the fair rider; but it appeared soon, by my manner of describing the thing that I had not been an eye-witness, and my testimony was rejected altogether. A great dispute arose afterwards about the question, whether the King had been sitting bareheaded in his carriage on account of the heat, or whether he had uncovered himself out of respect to the deputies? I was once more appealed to; but, when my information proved to be quite as unsatisfactory on this point as it had been on all the rest, one of the ladies exclaimed, with impatience, “Well! I should like to know what the gentleman has seen for his two Louis d’or?”—“The two eyes of his beloved, to be sure!” said another.—“The entwined names for ever!” said a third; and all the glasses were emptied with shouts of applause. I really think that the three holy men in the burning furnace cannot have been much hotter than I felt at the time.
​Chapter 20th. A Message.—I attempted a show of displeasure, but it did not answer the purpose; on the contrary, I had the mortification to perceive a general disposition to laugh and titter at the very moment I intended to rise in a pet; and, when I became aware of the cause, I could not help laughing myself, although I felt otherwise but little inclination for it. In the excess of my bad humour, I had not only demolished the tart which stood before me, but I had actually swallowed the entwined names, just as I had before unconsciously despatched several full bumpers which my complaisant neighbours had poured out for me. At that moment, a servant came to tell me that somebody wanted to speak to me, and I was very glad to escape from my purgatory, even for a short time. A girl was in waiting for me with the following note:
“I am under the absolute necessity of requesting a moment’s conversation with you, and I will thank you to call in the evening. Emma Stern.”
I read the paper with so much attention, and so many times over, that the girl must surely have thought me a very beginner in the noble art of reading. At last, I promised to come, and returned to the room in as great confusion as I had left it.
Chapter 21st. Curiosity on the stretch.—A great alteration had taken place. The collector and his daughter must have passed me unheeded, since I found them, at my return, on their places; and, apparently, in very good spirits. The young lady said that their coming so late must be entirely attributed to me; and she asked me whether behaviour such as mine was very usual in large towns? The eyes of the company were fixed on the fair examiner, and she related, with exquisite humour, all that happened in the course of the morning, including my overturning of her father, and my disappearance with the pretty embroiderer. The guests were thunderstruck with surprise, and I was so with rage; but the collector added, “Indeed this wicked girl of mine has no great cause to boast of her own conduct, however. He lifted up his glass, winked significantly at his daughter, and made her pledge him with a chinking of glasses, during which she-blushed and cast down her eyes. The curiosity of all the spectators was on the rack.
Chapter 22d. A Marriage.—After dinner, the Collector became a little more communicative, and he told us that his daughter and the son of an old friend had long been destined for each other; but that a recent quarrel between the two families had broken off the match; and that the present journey had been chiefly undertaken with the view to make Miss Ida forget her grief. The latter had, nevertheless, found means to inform her lover of her stay in town, and he had taken the earliest opportunity to join her. His own father had already relented; and it had not been particularly difficult to win also the Collector, by a declaration of unchanged mutual love and affection. After having listened to this explanation, I exclaimed, with tolerable composure, “Well! it is then settled in the book of destiny that I am to die a bachelor.” The smile with which I uttered this was, however, a little forced; for the two notes, which I had in my pocket, did materially interfere with my affected tranquillity and stoical indifference.
Chapter 23d. The Robbery.—The clock struck seven, and I hastened to my appointment. I found the aunt with Emma; and was told there must have been thieves in the room, since her best things were gone. I now recollected that the circumstance had already been pointed out to me by the landlord; but I had not particularly noticed it at the time. Ida had left the door open; and I might have laid the blame on her: but what right had I to find fault with a young inconsiderate girl, whilst I was guilty of so many oversights myself. I offered, of course, to replace every thing; but Emma said that there were many articles among the stolen ones which she could easily do without; and that the loss must be borne by herself, since it was owing to my keeping her company that the misfortune had happened: she only requested me to assist her with a small loan, which her situation made indispensible, and for which she could not apply to any body else.
Chapter 24th. The mercantile hand.—Whilst she was yet speaking, the pigeon came again with another paper tied to its neck. Emma carossed the little carrier, and took the note with a smile. After having read it, she said to the aunt, “It appears that a previous billet has fallen into wrong hands.” “Into mine,” I exclaimed, presenting it at the same time. “I am much obliged to you,” she said, without showing any emotion, “a young lady, to whom I give instructions, feels amused with this kind of correspondence, and I take pleasure in humouring her.” “A girl?” I asked, quite shocked at the assurance with which she told me such a falsehood; but ​she repeated her assertion. I lost all patience; and, not thinking it worth while to conceal my sentiments any longer, I plainly declared, that it would require a more implicit faith than I was master of to take so bold and mercantile a hand-writing for that of a young girl; “No more it is,” replied the accused, “my little friend has hurt her arm, and her father has been good enough to act as her secratary since the accident.” The assurance with which all this was advanced drove me almost mad, and I resolved to set aside all delicacy. Consequently, I said, “This kind father has then rather outstepped his commission, since he writes in his own name; ‘hasten into the arms of him who cannot live without you.’” “There I must beg your pardon, Mr. Haller, here is the note, and, according to your own remark, the writing is very good and legible; here stands ‘into the arms of her,’ as plain as letters can make it,” “Astonishing (I ejaculated, whilst looking at the note;) I have read it three times, and every time the fatal him presented itself to my eyes, though I cannot now deny that it is her.” Emma smiled again, and I rather think I looked a little foolish at the time. Suddenly my joy became as great as my vexation had been a moment before. In my ecstasy I overleapt all the barriers of form and precedent; and, coming to the point at once, I spoke as follows:—“Dear Emma! after all that has passed to-day, this dwelling must have become more unpleasant to you than ever, and you cannot too speedily change your residence; in my own there is far more room than I shall ever want for myself alone, and all our discussions about indemnifications or loans would be best settled by your becoming my wife.” “Mr. Haller,” retorted Emma, “you do me infinite honour; but I should prefer the declaration made on calm conviction, to one which seems to be the effect of spontaneous feeling.” “Never mind all that, dear girl, I have now seen enough to be convinced that you are the very person I want.” Four weeks afterwards we became man and wife, and neither of us repent of it. My friends are freed from the fear of seeing me die an old bachelor; and the pattern of embroidery, which I purchased from Emma on the memorable day, has been given as a present to the lady whose instigations had caused me to bespeak the garret, in which my happiness began.
This work is a translation and has a separate copyright status to the applicable copyright protections of the original content.