United States or Sierra Leone ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
He bought some old furniture, and adorned the slanting walls of the dilapidated barracks with such pictures as he had. One evening there was a knock at the green door of the cottage. Eberhard opened, and saw Herr Carovius standing before him.
To hear these words roll from her uncle’s tongue had been her ambition; and she had spared no pains to arrive at her goal. Herr Carovius was not spoiled. Since the days his sister had kept house for him, no woman had ever concerned herself about him in the least.
When she gave her first concert, Adler Hall was almost completely sold out. The musical critic of the Herold was captivated by her capricious playing. He called her an extraordinary talent, and predicted a brilliant future for her. Andreas Döderlein accepted the congratulations in the spirit of a seasoned patron of the arts; Herr Carovius was in the seventh heaven of joy.
He started off toward the Avenue, walking stiffly. It was not hard to see that he was ill at ease. Herr Carovius walked away with mincing, merry steps down toward the small end of the alley, singing an aria from the “Barber of Seville” as he went. At the end of the first week he was taken down with a disconcerting suspicion that the Baron had made a fool of him.
Late at night and in senseless excitement—for he was thinking of a bridal bed that filled him with the most intense pangs of jealousy—Herr Carovius sat in his room playing Chopin’s étude of the revolution.
It was impossible to understand what she was saying. She seemed distant, estranged. Eleanore hastened to her; Daniel looked at her with a scowl. Just then the bell rang, and M. Rivière went out. There was the sound of a man’s voice; it was disagreeable. The door was opened and—Herr Carovius entered. Herr Carovius bowed in all directions.
When the luncheon was finished, the men all withdrew and went about their business, with the exception of Herr Carovius. He remained to read the papers. For him it was one of the most important hours of the day. Having feasted his ears with friends in private, he now turned to a study of the follies, transgressions, and tragedies that make up everyday life.
During the rendition of this hallelujah-solo in praise of the nobility, Eberhard von Auffenberg intrenched himself behind a sullen silence. And though Carovius used every available opportunity from then on to flatter the young nobleman in his cunning, crafty way, he failed. The most he could do was to inspire Eberhard to lift his thrush-bearded chin in the air and make some sarcastic remark.
Then he began: “If you had ever known Marguerite Döderlein, she would have been just as unforgettable to you as she is to me. She and Eleanore—those were the two really musical women I have known in my life. They were both all nature, all soul. Marguerite’s youth was a prison; her brother Carovius was the jailer.
Herr Carovius pulled at his moustaches, moved his eyebrows up and down, went to his writing desk, opened his strong box, took out a hundred-mark bill, and gave it to her with turned head, as if he were afraid of the wrath of the protecting spirit of the money chest.
Word Of The Day