CHAPTER XXII

i>,whateverhisnamemaybe,byvirtueofhishigherandnoblernature.HehadbeenforrushingatoncetoKleinwaldebuthispupilandconfidanthadsaid"Don't,"andhadsaiditwithsuchenergythatforthatdayatleasthehadresisted.Andnow,theverymorningofthedayonwhichtheFrauPastorwasaskinghimwhetherhewereill,hehadreceivedacurtnotefromMissLeech,informinghimthatMissLettyEstcourtwouldforthepresentdiscontinueherGermanstudies.Whathadhappened?Eventhepoem,lyingwarmonhisheart,wasnotabletodispelhisfears.HehadflownatoncetoKleinwalde,feelingthatitwasabsurdnottofollowthedictatesofhisheartandcasthimselfinpersonatAnna'snodoubtexpectantfeet,andthedoorhadbeenshutinhisface—rudelyshut,byacoarseservant,whosemannerhadsomuchenragedhimthathehadalmostshownherthepreciousversesthenandthere,toconvinceherofhisimportanceinthathouseindeed,theonlyconsiderationthatrestrainedhimwasaconvictionofherignoranceoftheEnglishtongue. "Wouldyouliketoseethedoctor?"inquiredFrauManske,startledbyhislooksandwordsperhapshehadcaughtsomethinginfectiousaninfectiousvicarinthehousewouldbehorrible. "Thedoctor!"criedKlutzandforthwithquotedtheGermanrenderingofthesixlinesbeginning,Canstthounotministertoaminddiseased. FrauManskewasseriouslyalarmed.Notawarethathewasquoting,shewashorrifiedtohearhimcallingherDu,aprivilegeconfinedtolovers,husbands,andnearrelations,andaskingherquestionsthatshewassurenodecentvicarwouldeverasktherespectablemotherofafamily."Iamsureyououghttoseethedoctor,"shesaidnervously,gettinguphastilyandgoingtothedoor. "No,no,"saidKlutz"thedoctordoesnotexistwhocanhelpme." Hishandwenttothebreast-pocketcontainingthepoem,andhefingereditfeverishly.HelongedtoshowittoFrauManske,totranslateitforher,toletherseewhattheyoungKleinwaldelady,jointpatronwithHerrvonLohmofherhusband'sliving,thoughtofhim. "Iwillaskmyhusbandaboutthedoctor,"persistedFrauManske,disappearingwithunusualhaste.Ifshehadstayedoneminutelongerhewouldhaveshownherthepoem. Klutzdidnotwaittohearwhatthepastorsaid,butcrushedhisfelthatontohisheadandstartedforaviolentwalk.HewouldgothroughKleinwalde,pastthehousehewouldhauntthewoodshewouldwaitabout.Itwasahot,gustyMayafternoon,andthewindthathadbeenquietsolongwasblowingupthedustincloudsbuthehurriedalongregardlessofheatandwindanddust,withanenergysurprisinginonewhohadeatennothingallday.Lovehadcometohimveryturbulently.Hehadbeenlookingforiteversinceheleftschoolbuthiswatchfulparentshadkepthiminsolitaryplaces,empty,uninhabitedplaceslikeLohm,placeswheretheparson'sdaughterswereeithermarriedorwerestilltiedonthecushionsofinfancy.Sometimeshehadbeeninvited,asagreatcondescension,totheDellwigs'SundaypartiesandtheretoohehadlookedaroundforLove.Butthecompanyconsistedsolelyofstoutfarmers'wives,ladiesofthirty,forty,fifty—ofadizzyantiquity,thatis,andtheirtalkwasofbutter-makingandsausages,andtheycarednotatallforLove."Oh,Love,Love,Love,whereshallIfindthee?"hewouldcrytothestarsonhiswayhomethroughtheforestaftertheseeveningsbutthestarstwinkledcoldlyon,obviouslyprofoundlyindifferentastowhetherhefounditornot.Hischestofdrawerswasfullofthepoemsintowhichhehadpouredtheemotionsoftwenty,theemotionsandlongingsthatwell-fed,unoccupiedtwentymistakesforsoul.AndthentheEnglishMisshadburstuponhisgaze,sittinginhercarriageonthatstormyMarchday,smilingathimfromtheveryfirst,piercinghisheartthroughandthroughwitheyesthatmanypersonsbesidesKlutzsawwerelovely,andsohadhefoundLove,andforeverlosthisinterestinapplejelly. Itwasaconfident,boldLove,withmorehopesthanfears,moreassurancethanmisgivings.Thepoemseemedtoburnhispocket,soviolentlydidhelongtoshowitround,totelleveryoneofhisgoodfort