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Updated: April 30, 2025
Tita clapped her hands with delight; for Charlie was a favourite of hers, and now he was returning like a hero, with a sprig of fir in his cap to show that he had killed a buck. "And here, Miss Franziska," he said, quite gaily, "here is a yellow fox for you. I was told that you wanted the skin of one."
"And besides," says Tita, "have you any notion as to how Franziska herself would probably take this mad proposal?" "No," says the young man, humbly.
He was standing outside the inn, in the sweet, resinous-scented air, watching Franziska coming and going, with her bright face touched by the early sunlight, and her frank and honest eyes lit up by a kindly look when she passed us. His conscience began to smite him for claiming that fox. We spent the day in fishing a stream some few miles distant from Huferschingen, and Franziska accompanied us.
Such experiences produced their inevitable reaction disillusionment. Finally in 1905 Director Reinhardt engaged him as an actor and he married the actress Tilly Niemann-Newes, with whom he has since lived happily, the father of a son, his troubled spirit in safe harbour at last, but not in the least changed, to judge from his play, Franziska, a Modern Mystery.
If he had known that Franziska wanted a yellow fox, all the instinctive veneration for that animal that was in him would have gone clean out, and the fate of the animal for Charlie was a smart shot would have been definitely sealed. "Are there many of them?" said he, gloomily. "No; not many. But where there is one there are generally four or five. In the next drive we may come on them, yes!
"Oh dear, no," is the reply; and then he begins, in a somewhat hesitating way, to ask indirect questions and drop hints and fish for answers, just as if this small creature, who was busy with her sepias and olive greens, did not see through all this transparent cunning. At last she said to him, frankly: "You want me to tell you whether Franziska would make a good wife for you.
It changed the native docility of his temper, weaned him completely from his seraphic proclivities and carried him with a rush into the mid-current of the literary revolution. There came a time when the young medical student, faithfully pursuing his routine and on festal occasions spouting fervid panegyrics of the noble Karl and the divine Franziska, was not altogether what he seemed to be.
Mozart looked about him, apparently for Eugenie; since she was not there he turned naïvely with his question to Franziska. "What do you think, on the whole, of our Don Juan? Can you prophesy anything good for him?" "In the name of my aunt, I will answer as well as I can," was the laughing reply.
Tita simply flew at her and kissed her heartily and asked her twenty questions at once. Franziska answered in very fair English, a little slow and formal, but quite grammatical. Then she was introduced to Charlie, and she shook hands with him in a simple and unembarrassed way; and then she turned to one of the servants and gave some directions about the luggage.
With that Franziska passed into the house, carrying her fruit with her. Charlie was left to revolve her words in his mind. Dr. Krumm could shoot foxes when he chose; he was always here. He, Charlie, on the contrary, had to go away in little more than a fortnight.
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