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
But, as I straightened myself again, a warm, irresistibly kind glance
fell upon me from the small gray eyes, and such a touching, child-like
voice came from the little withered mouth, saying, "I shall be deeply
grateful to you, Herr Candidate, for everything you do in behalf of my
dear son," that I lowered my eyes in actual confusion, and felt a
sincere reverence for the little lady, whom I had just held in such
light esteem. I would make every possible effort, I stammered, laying
my hand on the boy's rough fair locks. But he shook off the friendly
touch so rudely that I instantly saw that the effort would certainly be
no easy one.
Meantime his sister had also approached me. She bore as strong a
resemblance to her handsome father as the boy to his mother. I
addressed a pleasant remark to her, which she answered by a haughty
curl of her full red lips. But there was still another feminine member
of the company, a lady, whom I supposed to be about thirty, not so
tall as the young baroness, but of a more elegant figure and with
serpent-like swiftness of motion. "This is a beloved member of our
household, Mademoiselle Suzon Duchanel," said the baron, as he led me
to her. "She is a true blessing from the Lord to us all, shortening the
long hours to my suffering wife, helping my daughter in her French
lessons, and sometimes chatting my own anxieties away." As he spoke he
bent over the young lady's hand, and, with chivalrous gallantry,
pressed it to his lips.
I know not why the act displeased me. My knowledge of the world and
society was still slight, and nothing could be more natural than an act
of courtesy by which the master of the house endeavored to lighten the
discomfort of a subordinate position to a lady. Nor was there anything
worthy of censure in the Frenchwoman's conduct. She was studiously
polite to every one, not excepting her insignificant fellow-slave,
myself, and, after becoming accustomed to a certain piercing light in
her dark eyes, no one could help thinking her attractive. So I could
only explain my strange aversion by the belief that, in her society, I
was almost always conscious of my defective French, and therefore,
though she spoke to me only in German, I felt her presence as an
embarrassment.
We were about to take our places at the table, which, set for eight
persons, stood in the middle of the room. The baron had already
escorted his little wife to her seat opposite to the glass door, and
the young heir had seized his sister's braids to drive her to the table
like a horse, when the door into the hall opened and another person
appeared, a tall, thin man in a plain gray hunting-coat, with horn
buttons, high boots, and a shabby gray felt hat on his head. It was
evident at the first glance that he must be a brother of the master of
the house, only he lacked the elegance that pervaded the latter's whole
appearance.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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