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Updated: May 27, 2025
Your much attached friends, The Journal notes a six weeks' tour with Mrs. Reeve in Switzerland and Germany: August 1st. To Paris and Geneva, via Dieppe. Saw Thiers in Paris. He had been turned out of office on May 4th. On August 4th reached Binet's campagne. Family dinners, &c., at Geneva. 12th, called at Blumenthal's chalet, near Vevey. 14th, to Berne, Grindelwald, and Ragaz, by Zurich.
What was the good of going to school and coming back with Claribel's songs and Blumenthal's Deux Anges lying on the top of your box, with a social education, moreover, so advanced that the dancing mistress had invariably made you waltz alone round the room for the edification and instruction of the assembled company, if all you had to do at home was to dust and wash up, and die with envy of girls with reprobate fathers?
For although, now that I had seen her, I stood ready to confess to large possibilities of fascination on Madame Blumenthal's part, and even to certain possibilities of sincerity of which my appreciation was vague, yet it seemed to me less ominous that he should be simply smitten than that his admiration should pique itself on being discriminating.
Fitzgerald has great dread of her father's knowing anything about it," responded Rosa; "and I have an earnest desire to spare her pain as far as possible. It seems as if she had a right to judge in the premises." Mrs. Delano took Mr. Blumenthal's view of the subject, and it was decided to leave that point for further consideration.
She was tall, and so far as Mr Blumenthal had ever seen, extremely grave for her years. But Mr Blumenthal's opportunities of observing Miss Dene had been limited. The "gams" had disappeared. Miss Dene was looking down the road that leads to Schicksalsee. There was not much visible there except a whirl of dust raised by the sudden evening wind.
The major, I imagine, had never read a work of fiction in his life, but he knew by hearsay that Madame Blumenthal's literature, when put forth in pink covers, was subversive of several respectable institutions.
"Good!" he cried; "I wanted an occasion to break a rule to leap a barrier. Here it is. I stay!" I made him a mock bow for his energy. "That's very fine," I said; "but now, to put you in a proper mood for Madame Blumenthal's tea, we will go and listen to the band play Schubert under the lindens." And we walked back through the woods.
No sooner had he gone than she sat down to the piano, and began singing, song after song, as she had never sung before English, German, French, Italian songs of passion and of pain Beethoven's Kennst du das Land, and Spohr's Rose softly blooming, and Blumenthal's Old, Old Story, and then Il Segreto and O mio Fernando and Stride la vampa, and rising to heights she seldom attempted, Modi ab modi and Ab fors' e lui che l'anima; pouring forth without restraint all the long-pent yearing of her heart, all the madness and misery of a desire which might be expressed in no other way; until outside in the street the passers-by slackened their steps and lingered before the windows, wondering at that strange storm of melody.
Glancing at Pickering, I was prompted to believe that he was in a state of beatific exaltation which weighed Madame Blumenthal's smiles and frowns in an equal balance. They were equally hers; they were links alike in the golden chain. He looked at me with eyes that seemed to say, "Did you ever hear such wit? Did you ever see such grace?"
During the anxious months that followed Mr. Blumenthal's departure, the sisters and their families were almost daily at the rooms of the Sanitary Commission, sewing, packing, or writing.
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