Withered Leaves: A Novel. Vol. 1 (of 3)Gottschall, Rudolf von
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Withered Leaves: A Novel. Vol. 1 (of 3)
Gottschall, Rudolf von
German fiction -- Translations into English
The mother, who had so long been kept afar from her, was invited. She
was sure to come to-morrow; could it have been a betrothal feast
without her blessing? In the cold one of her adopted parents lay no
charm which should be able to enchain her destiny; but a mother's every
silent wish must become a blessing. How would she look now? Oh, to gaze
again into those large, touching eyes, to be able to ask her why she
had remained so far away from her daughter; to be able to comfort her,
if she had endured great sorrow--and certainly she must be unhappy! The
wicked world had made her so! All pictures of early childhood rose
again before her, dream-like, unconnectedly. Yet from none was her
mother's countenance absent. Here they sat in an arbour before a
coffee-table, and the mother drove away the wasps which tried to steal
the little daughter's cake; there she stood at a door, behind the
curtained glass panes of which the lights of a Christmas tree were
already gleaming impatiently. She beckoned and called, and all the
festive brilliancy which had delighted the child's heart reflected
itself in the mother's eyes, and as she embraced the latter, the
never-to-be-forgotten tears that she kissed away from those cheeks told
her how intensely she was beloved by the only one who watched over her
life like the eye of Providence! And again she saw herself in a large
park. The mother sat upon a bench, and worked; it was already dusk. Eva
could even now still transport herself entirely into the feelings of
that time--what fear she was in lest her mother might spoil her
beautiful eyes. She cautioned her dear mother, and sprang to the pond
close by--the lights of evening flickered--a splendid water lily
attracted her--Evchen stooped down to gather it, and sank into the
pond. A cry for help--she awoke in her mother's arms, who had torn her
quickly as lightning from out the waves. As she opened her eyes, she
looked into a face smiling beneath its tears; and often in her dreams
appeared her mother's picture, as it had stood before her at that
moment.
Infinite yearning, deep emotion, took possession of her; how abundant
was her mother's love, and who had parted her from her daughter,
wrenched her away from that child's heart? She felt that it was not the
mother's will; a dark, spectre-like secret had stepped between the two!
Yet separated, even from a distance, the mother watched over her life,
reckoning up hour after hour of her present and future, and adding them
together in one single divine thought of illimitable love!
Sobbing loudly, she rested her head upon her hand; her eyes did not see
the heavens above, nor the wide ocean--only her mother's picture.
Then she suddenly arose; why this sorrow before a day of joy? To-morrow
the sun illumines their reunion, to-morrow she gives her troth to the
beloved man; she will sleep and dream of all her approaching happiness.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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