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
Light summer robes, and rigorous ball dresses floated about amongst one
another; Olga wore a ball dress that was cut out in Court style, and
displayed her voluptuous beauty; Cäcilie on the other hand a summer
dress close to the neck, but which, however, displayed her excessively
slight waist most daintily.
The Chief Forester created some sensation amongst the guests by his
giant form and abundant white moustache. Although he was well up in
years, he carried himself with military erectness, and the powerful
tone of his voice awoke the envy of all the basses in the chorus.
Blanden had greeted him with special cordiality, for the latter had
been his father's dearest friend. The young man looked with emotion at
the worthy forest official's grey head, he felt as though the former
represented his father to-day, and shook him congratulatorily by the
hand. Already during the afternoon Professor Baute had contemplated
with great interest the huge bull-dog which the Chief Forester brought
with him, and with his hero's assistance had made its acquaintance. He
had already noted several particular tokens of intelligence, for the
bull-dog clearly occupied a higher position in the scale of animal's
souls than his own poodle.
Wegen had caused a couple of garlanded chairs to be placed upon a small
daïs for the betrothed couple; the other guests sat beside it--elderly
gentlemen and ladies and all those who lacked the muse of the art of
sweet sounds.
Eva, accompanied by her adopted parents, appeared in a simple blue
dress, a wreath of wild flowers in her hair, and amongst them gleamed
the bells of the campanula. What a contrast between her dress and the
townish splendour with which Frau Kalzow had decked herself, even
several doubtful diamonds were not missing. The satin rustled around
her stalwart but bony form, as if in wondering amazement, and as though
it did not belong to her. The old Regierungsrath had brought out his
stiffest neckcloth at the same time as his most solemn demeanour; every
movement told how nearly this festivity concerned him, and what
reflected rays of importance it shed upon his poor self. But it was not
merely in her simple dress that Eva's beauty possessed such a touching
charm. Intense mournfulness that alternated with suddenly aroused
eagerness overspread her countenance. She had been expecting her
mother's arrival during the whole day, she had rushed in feverish haste
to the window as each carriage drove up to the Kursaal, and the
futility of this incessant agitation acted depressingly and
paralysingly at last, so that several times she burst into tears. Frau
Kalzow consoled her with saying her mother might still come; she was
written to punctually, and at the proper time, it was possible that the
letter by some mischance might not have arrived equally punctually. She
did not dare to think of any illness, they would surely have received
the intelligence by writing. Nevertheless, to the bride the whole
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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