At the Ghost Hour. The House of the Unbelieving ThomasHeyse, Paul
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At the Ghost Hour. The House of the Unbelieving Thomas
Heyse, Paul
German fiction -- Translations into English; Ghost stories
The daughter of the house opened the door herself, but greeted him with
a cool, well-feigned surprise, as one might a visitor whom he had
believed to be a hundred miles away, and ushered him at once into the
parlor, where a little circle of family friends was assembled. The
father was still at his office, but the mother, who had always petted
the young man as if he were the legacy of her deceased friend,
exhibited this evening a stiff, reserved manner, congratulated him upon
successfully passing his last examination, inquired how long he
expected to remain in the city, and addressed him once and again as
Herr Doctor. He noticed at once that the conversation which he had
interrupted had been concerned with himself, but he maintained his
composure and excused his deferred visit on the ground of an accident
which had befallen him--he had made a false step and had fallen,
striking his head against a stone; on which account he had been for
several days under a physician's care.
No one expressed, save for mere politeness' sake, any regret at this,
and the conversation dragged itself wearily along.
Philip had leisure to observe the daughter of the house, as she sat
near him, her little nose tilted high in the air, and her lips pursed
up ironically. She had been so frequently told that she was the
prettiest girl in town, she had been so unquestionably the queen of the
ballroom for three winters, that it seemed a mere matter of course that
everyone should pay homage to her youthful highness; and especially did
she expect it of her old playmate who had been used to bring her the
most bouquets at every cotillon. Moreover, in spite of his disfigured
forehead, he pleased her better than all her other society slaves, and
she had in secret decided that if he should prove himself worthy of the
honor, she would make him overwhelmingly happy by the bestowal of her
favor upon him. And now to have him sit there by her side, as impassive
as a block of wood, was unpardonable; and she resolved within her cold
little heart that he should feel her righteous anger.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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