The Romance of the Canoness: A Life-HistoryHeyse, Paul
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The Romance of the Canoness: A Life-History
Heyse, Paul
German fiction -- Translations into English
When, soon after, her husband entered, nothing but her unwonted pallor
and a tremor, which still ever and anon ran through her limbs, could
have betrayed to him that anything unusual had occurred. He, however,
in his jovial self-satisfaction, was so exclusively absorbed in
himself--having just purchased a new neck-tie which he meant to wear at
dinner--that he noticed no change in her. And there was no one else at
the table who took any special heed of her, except a young girl of
fourteen--the daughter of the Selmar couple--who had been too ill to
appear at dinner the day before. She went to Frau Luise, pressed her
hand affectionately, and anxiously asked if she were well. "Oh!
perfectly well," replied the happy mother, smiling, as she kissed the
girl's cheek and inquired about her own doings. The dinner passed off
very much like the one of the previous day, except that the manager
regretted he could not drink my health in a glass of wine as a token of
gratitude for my admirable prompting. But the rigid law of the
household prohibited all spirituous drinks until the evening--and he
cast a glance of comic terror at his wife.
I saw that she found it difficult to maintain her assumed cheerfulness,
and when we rose her knees trembled. So I suggested in a low tone that
she should lie down for a time and trust the boy to me for the
afternoon. She assented with a grateful glance and pressure of the
hand.
When, at the end of a few hours, I brought the child--with whom I had
formed the closest friendship--back to his mother, I found her sitting
by the very window at which she had gazed with so much horror. She was
still quiet and pale, like a person just recovering from a dangerous
illness, but I had never seen her look more beautiful and charming, and
felt that the duty of self-defense required me to take leave of her
now. I could not come to her room after the play, so we shook hands
without uttering what was oppressing each heart; I kissed the child,
for the last time as I supposed, and, in a mood well worthy of
compassion, left these two beloved beings expecting never to see them
again.
* * * * *
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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