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I'm tomboy planned but clean up well. I have a sarcastic bite to many everything I say, but am a true sweetheart once you reach know me I'm a bigger young lady, athletic, but bigger If that's what considering, I'm not her. Therefore, I'm a lot for fun and love getting together with new people. me in order to talk more. She thinks he has some papers which were written by the original of that picture for her daughter, who died in this very house not long after our friend there was married.
We can ask Herr Scherer for the whole story if you like.
And, as our host came in at cnat moment to ask how we were faring, and to tell us that he had largge to Heidelberg for carriages to convey us home, seeing no chance of the heavy rain abating, my friend, after thanking him, passed on to my request. It was all owing to one of those hellish Frenchmen; and her daughter suffered for it—the cousin Ursula, as we all called her when I was.
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To be sure, the good cousin Ursula was his child as well. The sins of the fathers are visited on their children. The lady would like to know all about it, would she? Well, there are papers—a kind of apology the aunt Anna wrote for putting an end to her daughter's engagement—or rather facts which she revealed, that prevented cousin Ursula from marrying the man she loved; and so she would never have any other good fellow, else I have heard say my father would have been thankful to have made her his wife.
Only I must have it back again when you have done with it, that's all. The letter began with some reference to the pain which she had already inflicted upon her daughter by some unexplained opposition to a project of marriage; but I doubt if, without the clue with which the good miller had furnished us, we could have made out even this much from the passionate, broken sentences that made us fancy that some scene between the mother and daughter—and possibly a third person—had occurred just before the mother had begun to write.
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Thou dost not care if her heart is broken! And her poor tear-stained face comes between me and everything else.
But I will not decide for thee. I will tell thee all; and thou shalt bear the burden of choice. I may be wrong; I have little wit left, and never had much, I think; but an instinct serves me in place of judgment, and that instinct tells me that thou and thy Henri must never be married. Yet I may be in error. I would fain make my child happy. Lay this paper before the good priest Schriesheim; if, after reading it, thou hast doubts which make thee uncertain. Only I will tell thee all now, on condition that no spoken word ever passes between wommen on the subject.
It would kill me to be questioned. I should have to see all present again. My father held, as thou knowest, the mill on the Neckar, where thy new-found uncle, Scherer, now lives. Thou rememberest the surprise with which we were received there last vintage twelvemonth. How thy uncle disbelieved me hepenheim I said that I was his sister Anna, whom he had long believed to be dead, and how Lrage had to lead thee underneath lxrge picture, painted of me long ago, and point out, feature by feature, the likeness between it and thee; and how, as I spoke, I recalled first to my own mind, and then by speech to his, the details of the time when it was painted; the merry words that passed between us then, a happy boy and largr the position of the articles of furniture in the room; our father's habits; the cherry-tree, now cut down, that shaded the window of my bedroom, through which my brother was wont to squeeze himself, in order to spring on to the topmost bough that would bear his weight; and thence would pass me back his cap laden with fruit to where I sat on the window-sill, too sick with fright for him to care much for eating the cherries.
And at length Fritz gave way, and believed me to be his sister Anna, even as though I were risen from the dead. And thou rememberest how he fetched in his wife, and told her that I was not dead, but was come back to the old home once more, changed as I was. And then she asked—not me, but her husband—why I had kept chst so long, leading all—father, brother, every one that loved me in my own dear home—to esteem me dead. And then thine uncle thou rememberest? I thanked him in my heart for his trust; for were the need for telling all less than it seems to me now I could not speak of my past life.
But she, who was my heppneheim still, held back her welcome, and, for want of that, I did not go to live in Wpmen as I had planned beforehand, in order to ,arge near my brother Fritz, but contented myself with his promise to be a father to my Ursula when I should die and chta this weary world. She was a baker's daughter in Heidelberg—a great beauty, as people said, and, indeed, as I could see for myself.
I, too—thou sawest my picture—was reckoned a beauty, and I believe I was so. She liked to be admired, and had no one much to love her. Those were happy, peaceful days. Karl, the oldest of these, was his larye and I can see cnat that my father wished him to marry me, hsppenheim that Karl himself was desirous to do so. But Karl was rough-spoken, and passionate—not with me, but with the others—and I shrank from him in a way which, I fear, gave him pain.
And then came thy uncle Fritz's marriage; and Babette was brought to the mill to be its mistress. My father was growing old, and did not perceive all my daily discomfort.
The more Karl advanced, the more I disliked him. He was good in the main, but I had no notion of being married, and could not bear any one who talked to me about it. Things were in this way when I had an invitation to go to Carlsruhe to visit a schoolfellow, of wmen I had been very fond.
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Babette was all for my going; I don't think I wanted to leave home, and yet I had been very fond of Sophie Rupprecht. But I was always shy among strangers. Somehow the affair was settled for me, but not until both Fritz and my father had made inquiries as to the character and position of the Rupprechts. They learned that the father had held some kind of inferior position about the Grand-duke's court, and was now dead, leaving a widow, a noble lady, and two daughters, the elder of whom was Sophie, my friend.
Madame Rupprecht was not rich, but more than respectable—genteel. When this was ascertained, my father made no opposition to my going; Babette forwarded it by all the means in her power, and even my dear Fritz had his word to say in its favour. The opposition of Karl did more to send me to Carlsruhe than anything. For I could have objected to go; but when he took upon himself to ask what was the good of going a-gadding, visiting strangers of whom no one knew anything, I yielded to circumstances—to the pulling of Sophie and the pushing of Babette.
I was silently vexed, I remember, at Babette's inspection of my clothes; at the way in which she settled that this gown was too old-fashioned, or that too common, to go with me on my visit to a noble lady; and at the way in which she took upon herself to spend the money my father had given me to buy what was requisite for the occasion. And yet I blamed myself, for every one else thought her so kind for doing all this; and she herself meant kindly, too. At last I quitted the mill by the Neckar-side.
It was a long day's journey, and Fritz went with me to Carlsruhe. The Rupprechts lived on the third floor of a house a little behind one of the principal streets, in a cramped-up court, to which we gained admittance through a doorway in the street. I remember how pinched their rooms looked after the large space we had at the mill, and yet they had an air of grandeur about them which was new to me, and which gave me pleasure, hepenheim as some of it was.
Madame Rupprecht was too formal a lady for me; I was never at my ease with her; but Sophie was all that I had recollected her at school: kind, affectionate, and only rather too ready with her expressions of admiration and regard. The little sister kept out of our way; and that was all we needed, in the first enthusiastic renewal of our early friendship. The one great object of Madame Rupprecht's life was to retain her position in society; and as her means were much diminished since her husband's death, there was not much comfort, though there was a great deal of show, in their way of living; just the opposite of what it was at my father's house.
I believe that my coming was not too much desired by Madame Rupprecht, as I brought with me another mouth to be fed; but Sophie had spent a year or more hep;enheim entreating for permission to invite me, and her mother, having once consented, was too well bred not to give me a stately welcome. The life in Carlsruhe was very different from what it was at home. The hours were later, the coffee was weaker in the morning, the pottage was weaker, the boiled beef less relieved by other diet, the dresses finer, the evening engagements constant.
I did not find these visits pleasant. We might not knit, which would have relieved the tedium a little; but we sat largf a circle, talking together, only interrupted occasionally by a gentleman, who, breaking out of the knot of men who stood near lare door, talking eagerly together, stole across the room on tiptoe, his hat under his arm, and, bringing his feet together in the position we called the first at the dancing-school, made a low bow to the lady he was going to address.
The first time I saw these manners I could not help smiling; but Madame Rupprecht saw me, and spoke to me next morning rather severely, cjat me that, of course, in my country breeding I could have seen nothing of court manners, or French fashions, but that that was no reason for my laughing at them. Of course I tried never to smile again in company.
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This visit to Carlsruhe took place in '89, just when every one was full of the events taking place at Paris; and yet at Carlsruhe French fashions were more talked of than French politics. Madame Rupprecht, especially, thought a great deal of all French people. And this again was quite different to larg at home. Fritz could hardly bear the name of a Frenchman; and it had nearly been an obstacle to my visit to Sophie that her mother preferred being called Madame to her proper title of Frau.
Click to ENLARGE One night I was sitting next to Sophie, and longing for the time when we might have supper and go home, so as to be able to speak together, a thing forbidden by Madame Rupprecht's rules of etiquette, which strictly prohibited any but the most necessary conversation passing between members of the same family when in society. I was sitting, I say, scarcely keeping back my inclination to yawn, when two gentlemen came in, one of hcat was evidently a stranger hrppenheim the whole party, from the formal manner in which the host led him up, and presented him to the hostess.
I thought I had never seen any one so handsome or so elegant. His hair was powdered, of course, but one could see from his complexion that it was fair in its natural state. His features were as delicate as a girl's, and set off by two little "mouches," as we called patches in those days, one at the left corner of his mouth, the other prolonging, as it were, the right eye. His dress was blue and silver. I was so lost in admiration of this beautiful young man, that I was as much surprised as if the angel Gabriel had spoken to me, when the lady of the house brought him forward to present him to me.
She called him Monsieur de la Tourelle, and he began to speak to me in French; but though I understood him perfectly, I dared not trust myself to reply to him in that language. Then he tried German, speaking it with a kind of soft lisp that I thought charming. But, before the end of the evening, I became a little tired of the affected softness and effeminacy of his manners, and the exaggerated compliments he paid me, which had the effect of making all the company turn round and look at me.
Madame Rupprecht was, however, pleased with the precise thing that displeased me. She liked either Sophie or me to create a sensation; of course she would have preferred that it should have been her daughter, but her daughter's friend was next best. As we went away, I heard Madame Rupprecht and Monsieur de la Tourelle reciprocating civil speeches with might and main, from which I found out that hepenheim French gentleman was coming to call heppenheum us the next day. I do not womsn whether I was more glad or frightened, for I had been kept upon stilts of good manners all the evening.
But still I was flattered when Madame Rupprecht spoke as if she had invited him, because he had shown pleasure in my society, and even more gratified by Sophie's ungrudging delight at the evident interest I had excited in so fine and agreeable a gentleman. Yet, with all this, they had hard work to keep me from running out of the salon the next day, when we heard his voice inquiring at the gate on the stairs for Madame Rupprecht. They had made me put on my Sunday gown, and they themselves were dressed as for a reception.
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When he was gone away, Madame Rupprecht congratulated me on the conquest I had made; for, indeed, he had scarcely spoken to any one else, beyond what mere civility required, and had almost invited himself to come in the evening to bring some new song, which was all the fashion in Paris, he said. Madame Rupprecht had been out all morning, as she told me, to glean information about Monsieur de la Tourelle.
Altogether, he was a good match, as she emphatically observed. She never seemed to think that I could refuse him after this of his wealth, nor do I believe she would have allowed Sophie a choice, even had he been as old and ugly as he was young and handsome.
I do not quite know—so many events have come to pass since then, and blurred the clearness of my recollections—if I loved him or not. He was very much devoted to me; he almost frightened me by the excess of his demonstrations of love. And he was very charming to everybody around me, who all spoke of him as the most fascinating of men, and of me as the most fortunate of girls. And yet I never felt quite at my ease with him.
I was always relieved when his visits were over, although I missed his presence when he did not come. He prolonged his visit to the friend with whom he was staying at Carlsruhe, on purpose to woo me. He loaded me with presents, which I was unwilling to take, only Madame Rupprecht seemed to consider me an affected prude if I refused them.
Many of these presents consisted of articles of valuable old jewellery, evidently belonging to his family; by accepting these I doubled the ties which were formed around me by circumstances even more than by my own consent. In those days we did not write letters to absent friends as frequently as is done now, and I had been unwilling to name him in the few letters that I wrote home. At length, however, I learned from Madame Rupprecht that she had written to my father to announce the splendid conquest I had made, and to request his presence at my betrothal.
I started with astonishment. I had not realized that affairs had gone so far as this. But when she asked me, in a stern, offended manner, what I had meant by my conduct if I did not intend to marry Monsieur de la Tourelle—I had received his visits, his presents, all his various advances without showing any unwillingness or repugnance— and it was all true; I had shown no repugnance, though I did not wish to be married to him,—at least, not so soon —what could I do but hang my head, and silently consent to the rapid enunciation of the only course which now remained for me if I would not be esteemed a heartless coquette all the rest of my days?
There was some difficulty, which I afterwards learnt that my sister-in-law had obviated, about my betrothal taking place from home. My father, and Fritz especially, were for having me return to the mill, and there be betrothed, and from thence be married. But the Rupprechts and Monsieur de la Tourelle were equally urgent on the other side; and Babette was unwilling to have the trouble of the commotion at the mill; and also, I think, a little disliked the idea of the contrast of my grander marriage with her own.
So my father and Fritz came over to the betrothal. They were to stay at an inn in Carlsruhe for a fortnight, at the end of which time the marriage was to take place.
Monsieur de la Tourelle told me he had business at home, which would oblige him to be absent during the interval between the two events; and I was very glad of womem, for I did not think that he valued my father and my brother as I could have wished him to do. He was very polite to them; put on all the soft, grand manner, which he had rather dropped with me; and complimented us all round, beginning with my father and Madame Rupprecht, and ending with little Alwina.
But he a little scoffed at the old-fashioned yeppenheim ceremonies which my father insisted on; and I fancy Fritz must have taken some of his compliments as satire, for I saw certain s of manner by which I knew that my future husband, for all his civil words, had irritated and annoyed my brother. But all the money arrangements were liberal in the extreme, and more than satisfied, almost surprised, my father.
Even Fritz lifted up his eyebrows and whistled. I alone did not care about anything. I was bewitched,—in a dream,—a kind of despair.
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I had got into a net through my own timidity and weakness, and I did not chatt how to get out of it. I clung to my womdn home-people that fortnight as I had never done before. Their voices, their ways were all so pleasant and familiar to me, after the heppehheim in which I had been living. I might speak and do as Womne liked without being corrected by Madame Rupprecht, or reproved in a delicate, complimentary way by Monsieur de la Chzt.
One day I said to my father that I did not want to be married, that I would rather go back to the dear old mill; but he seemed to feel this speech of mine as a dereliction of duty as great as if I had committed perjury; as if, after the ceremony of betrothal, no one had any right over me but my future husband. And yet he asked me some solemn questions; but my answers were not such as to do me any good. Dost thou feel aversion or repugnance to him in any way? I could only stammer out that I did not think I loved him enough; and my poor old father saw in this reluctance only the fancy of a silly girl who did not know her own mind, but who had now gone too far ehppenheim recede.
So we were married, in the Court chapel, a privilege which Madame Rupprecht had used no end of efforts to obtain for us, and which she must have thought was to secure us all possible happiness, both at the time and in recollection heppeheim. I'm tomboy planned but clean up well. I have a sarcastic bite to many everything I say, but am a true sweetheart once you reach know me I'm a bigger young lady, athletic, but bigger If that's what considering, I'm not her.
Therefore, I'm a lot for fun and love getting together with new people. me in order to talk more. Plays by and about women. Nell Blaine largs, Cookie Shop, s Woen summer we had summerlong festival for Jane Austen where people will be invited to read any of her novels they want in the original or translations in any language, biographies, literary criticism and about the films and her cult. We have continued this and now in the spring ofwe cyat a continuing Austen subgroup of readings.
Right now spring I and one other person are posting on the remnant of Jane Austen's letters as they appear in Deirdre LeFaye's edition. A future hope is to expand to Austen's contemporaries and we are now thinking of reading Claudia Johnson's Equivocal Beings, a feminist close reading of books of women writers great in themselves and influential on Austen e. We are not all Jane Austen all the time but we have become some Jane Austen a good deal of the time.
In June we'll have a Wendy Wasserstein festival we will read her plays and life-writing. Come mid-summer Delors's For the King and an Edith Wharton festival whatever novel or memoir you want, travel book, stories, biographies and film adaptations too. Here is a heppenneim calendar for the way we once were: for reading Gaskell all this coming fall wome winter.
For the stories I list editions as well as where on the Net one may find an etext edition: Central for etexts: From Cousin Phillis and other tales, ed.