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Updated: May 28, 2025
“Why do you wish to settle down and live in Nuremberg, a city of such one-sided commercial interests?” continued Herr von Erfft, with an almost solicitous caution. “Would you not have a much better opportunity as a composer in one of the great cities?” “It is impossible to separate the daughter from her father,” replied Daniel with unusual candour. “It is impossible.
Sylvester von Erfft took a seat opposite him, and asked him in a most kindly tone whether he had any definite plans for the immediate future. “I am going back to Nuremberg and get married,” said Daniel. “My fiancée has been waiting for me for a long time.” Herr von Erfft asked him whether he was not afraid of premature marriage bonds.
Frau von Erfft was quite careful to avoid any reference to the family affairs.
The Chancellor cancelled his engagement, and the young men who had assembled for the rehearsals went quietly home. Herr von Erfft gave Daniel a considerable purse with which he might recompense his musicians for their trouble, and, not wishing to treat Daniel himself as though he were an ordinary mechanic, he invited him to spend a few more days on his estate.
One afternoon, a stately gentleman between fifty-five and fifty-six years old entered Daniel’s room, and introduced himself as Sylvester von Erfft, the owner of an estate. His mission was as follows: Every year, at this season, the Chancellor of the German Empire was taking the cure at the nearby Kissingen Baths.
If Daniel spoke to any one with such seeming harshness that the case was taken up with Herr von Erfft, the latter said: “Let the man have his way; he knows his business; there are not many like him.” Sylvia was the only one he treated with consideration. As soon as Herr von Erfft mentioned her name, Daniel listened; and as soon as he had seen her, he knew that he had seen her before.
The other members of the improvised company he handled with no greater indulgence than he had shown the singers of the Dörmaul troupe. They had to put up with his gruffness and snappishness, and to do it without a murmur. Herr von Erfft attended the rehearsals regularly, observing Daniel at all times with quiet admiration.
And where he was unable to take his part in the world of outward unrest, Sylvia’s influence interceded and made it possible for him to do what was expected of him. In May he accompanied her and her mother to Erfft. There they took long walks together every day, and talked a great deal about Eleanore. At first he spoke with noticeable reserve.
The next Wednesday Frau von Erfft with her daughter Sylvia arrived. “Clotilda acts as if she had lost her mind,” she said to Emilia after having spent an hour in the room with her sister. “I am going to see your father. I must have a long talk with Siegmund.” The Baron received his sister-in-law with marked coolness, though he had always had a great deal of respect for her.
The first was melancholy, the second triumphant, the third meditative, the fourth dreamy. Each was a hymn to forgotten joy. Herr von Erfft and Agatha were standing in the open door. Sylvia had sat down close beside him on a tabourette; there was a pleasing, far-away look in her eyes, riveted though they were to the floor. He suddenly stopped, as if to avoid both thanks and applause.
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