Stormy Weather
The pain of being left behind did not settle so soon. For about a week or two, Theresia felt terribly depressed. Marie, feeling deeply for Theresia, did everything to cheer her up. They spent a great deal of time together, practising the English language, playing cards and reading to each other.
Baroness von Hertenberg was pleased with the way things were proceeding. She
had been right -- Marie had finally found a friend, and this led her to be a bit
more courageous in company. She started speaking up more often, giving her
opinions, and as long as this did not result in stubbornness, there was nothing
wrong with it.
The Baron, too, had taken a liking to Theresia quite soon after her arrival. He
liked her fresh and lively nature, her bluntness. There was no falsehood about
her, she was used to giving her opinion plainly, and never resorted to the
schemes and manoeuvres young girls of her age often took refuge in. When she
had done something wrong, Theresia was certain to take the full responsibility
for it -- although sometimes, the Baron had to hide his grin when she gave him
her reasons for her misbehaviour. He had to be stern, against his own
inclination at times. Life had certainly taken an interesting turn since that
girl had arrived.
*****
Theresia got along very well with every member of the family, except Carl. He had formed his opinion of her long before she had arrived in Vienna, and was not disposed to change it. Carl missed no opportunity to criticise her, and in the first weeks of Theresia's stay, there were many. Coming from a place where ceremony did not mean much to people, she often made mistakes, and Carl was certain to point them out mercilessly.
In addition to that, he thought that Theresia was gaining too much influence on Marie. Marie had always looked up to him as her protector, so to speak, and he had been her main confidant. Now Theresia had become more important to Marie than he had ever been, he thought, and even though he did not want to admit it to himself, Carl was jealous. There was this girl, who had no right at all to Marie's affection, stealing it away from him.
His behaviour towards Theresia was, therefore, unfriendly, to say the least, and bordering on incivility. Theresia was not the sort of person to complain, but she paid back Carl's unkindness in her own way -- she ignored him (which he hated), and took every opportunity to "undermine his authority" with his sister and friends (as he chose to express himself). In Theresia's opinion he was just a conceited, loud-mouthed youth who still had a great deal of lessons to learn, and she was most willing to teach him.
Joseph was completely different from his brother. He was pleasant, well-mannered, and ready to be of assistance whenever Theresia needed any. Probably this was because he was the eldest -- a young man at four-and-twenty is a bit more sensible than at nineteen. But it could also have been his generally benevolent character -- Joseph was, to use his father's words, so kind that it was actually a fault.
One day, about a week after her mother's departure, Theresia came into the library to search a book Miss Grant had recommended her to read. She rummaged round in the bookshelves, but was not able to find it, until Joseph, who had been sitting there, watching her with an amused smile, asked her what she wanted.
"Miss Grant has told me to get a book from the library," Theresia
said, "and I cannot find it."
She gave an exasperated sigh.
"Which one do you need," Joseph asked, rising from his chair. "Perhaps I can find it for you."
Theresia told him the title of the book -- a well-known history volume, one he had read only recently.
"I think I know why you cannot find it," he said. "It might be in my room, still. I was reading it...."
"Oh," Theresia exclaimed, happily, "then I will just go and tell Miss Grant you still need it...." She hurried towards the door.
Joseph laughed. "It does not look as if you were overly keen to read it," he said. "Am I right?"
Theresia turned around and nodded. "I do not really like history books," she said. "They are so dull sometimes. Why cannot people make them a bit more entertaining?"
"I get your point," Joseph said. "But give this one a chance -- I am certain you will like it. If you have any questions, you can ask me. So, I will just go and get that book from my room..."
"But you need not, I mean, if you are not finished with it, I can very well wait," Theresia said hurriedly.
Joseph grinned. "I admit it would sound like a good excuse, Theresia, but I am afraid Miss Grant would not accept it. She would ask you to read something else instead -- Miss Grant is very well read, and knows the contents of this library as well as I do. She will know a substitute for this book at once."
"I suppose she would," Theresia said, gloomily. Joseph had to laugh.
"Do not laugh at me," Theresia hissed angrily. "I hate it when people do that!"
"I could not help it, I am sorry," Joseph answered. "You sounded so droll -- but I did not mean to laugh at you. Anyway, I will go and fetch that book for you. Miss Grant will already think you have got lost -- you can join her again, I shall bring the book to the schoolroom."
Theresia went back to the schoolroom, a bit angry still. In her opinion, Joseph was much too obliging, sometimes...
*****
That evening, Baroness von Hertenberg surprised her daughter and Theresia with a treat. She had observed that the girls had been very busy -- and successful -- with their learning lately, and wanted to show them that she appreciated their efforts. So she promised them an outing to the Prater, the biggest park in Vienna. Now, at the beginning of May, the trees were in full bloom, and it would certainly be a treat for Marie, who was so fond of drawing. The trip was to take place the following Sunday, and both girls were eagerly looking forward to it.
However, on Friday, the Baroness fell ill. She had to keep to her room all day, and it did not look as if she would fully recover until Sunday.
"It is too bad," Marie said, disappointedly. "But I am certain we will go some other day..."
"Does this happen often, Marie?" Theresia asked. "Your mother falling ill, I mean?"
"Quite often, yes, she is rather delicate," Marie answered.
Theresia felt sorry for her aunt. She had not known that Baroness von Hertenberg was prone to sickness.
"I hope I have not done anything to distress her," Theresia said, thoughtfully. "It would be awful if I were to blame..."
"To blame for what," Marie asked, wonderingly.
"For Aunt Elizabeth's being ill," Theresia answered.
"Whoever would blame you," Marie said. "You have nothing to do with it. Mama falls ill now and then, and nobody is to blame for that."
*****
Baroness von Hertenberg did not consider breaking her promise, however. Even if she was not able to take the girls on the promised walk to the park, there were other people she could ask. Unfortunately, her husband and eldest son had had to go to the country estate, to see what had to be done before the family could move there for the summer, and Miss Grant usually left the house early on Sunday mornings to visit some friends of hers. Sunday was Miss Grant's only day off, and the Baroness did not want her to sacrifice it. This left only one person to ask -- Carl.
"You cannot be serious, Mother," Carl said, aghast, when she made her request. "I am not a nursery maid!"
"Nobody said so," the Baroness said. "I only asked you if you could do me a favour. I made a promise to the girls, and now I cannot keep it."
"Mother," Carl said, pleadingly, "I am sure they can wait until next Sunday -- or the one after that. It is not a question of your not keeping your promise -- it is not possible for you to do as you promised. Believe me, they would not enjoy themselves in the Prater with me - and I can hardly enjoy myself when I have to drag my sister and cousin along."
"Next Sunday, or the Sunday after that, the park will not be as beautiful any more as it is now, Carl. Now do not act up like this, you can do your old mother a favour now and then."
Carl grumbled. He had actually planned to meet some friends of his in the park, and did not even want to imagine what they would say if he turned up there with his sister and cousin in tow.
"Carl?" his mother said.
"Very well then," Carl said angrily, knowing that he had no chance to refuse -- unless he wanted trouble with his father, that was. "Tell them to get dressed -- but I can tell you one thing, Theresia had better behave herself, or I shall sell her off to some gypsies."
*****
So a rather gloomy party set off into the direction of the Prater. Carl was desperately trying to figure out a way how he could avoid his friends -- especially Horvāth, who would be greatly amused by the situation, Carl was sure. He could actually imagine Horvāth's grin on seeing Carl, the nursery maid.
Theresia was not really pleased with the arrangements, either. Much as she had looked forward to the walk, she did not consider a walk with Cousin Carl an agreeable pastime. The only one who was truly looking forward to the walk was Marie. She had taken her sketchbook with her, and had planned to sit down in some quiet, pleasant spot to draw some sketches. Marie did not want to be in her brother's way, and she took no offence at his grumpiness. She knew his opinion on having to look after his little sister -- it was the usual way of big brothers to loathe their sisters' company in public, fond as they might be of them in private.
They reached the park, Carl going ahead of them and walking rather briskly, as if trying to get rid of them. He had probably thought that the girls might get tired soon, so he could send them off back home. But Theresia was determined not to do him the favour. He had made it absolutely clear that he did not want her company -- fine, she did not want his, either, and had to go with him -- she would make the most of it.
She noticed that Carl was looking about him anxiously, as if he were afraid of meeting people he knew, and grinned. His thoughts were quite easy to read -- she had to admit that her own brother would probably act in the same way. Carl's worst fear seemed to come true when suddenly someone called out to him.
"Hertenberg! Over here!"
Try as he might, he could not ignore being addressed, especially since the young man who had addressed him walked over to him, his hand stretched out towards him, and smiling affably.
"I cannot believe you did not see us," he went on, grinning. Then he noticed Theresia and Marie and said, "But I suppose it was your pleasant company that kept you from looking out for us -- do not worry, I understand you pretty well. Will you not introduce me to these charming ladies?"
Charming ladies? Theresia decided that this young man was making fun of either Carl or them. For his sake, she hoped that it was Carl he was making fun of. The angry look Carl gave his friend satisfied her.
"Very well, if you insist," he said. "Marie, Theresia, my friend
Janos Horvāth. Horvāth, may I present my sister Miss Marie von Hertenberg, and
Miss Theresia von Laudeck, my cousin?"
His tone suggested that it was a bit of a trial to him, to be "caught" in the
park taking care of his sister and cousin. His friend, however, behaved
perfectly. Theresia could not help but admire his perfect manners.
"I am honoured to make your acquaintance," Mr. Horvāth said, smiling, bowing and shaking hands with the two girls. "Now I get an idea why von Hertenberg kept his sister hidden for such a long time..."
Marie blushed, and looked as if she wanted to find a hiding place somewhere -- the sooner, the better. Mr. Horvāth noticed how uncomfortable she felt, and did not talk to her any more. He turned to her brother instead.
"You know, you are not the only gentleman taking his sister on a walk on such a fine afternoon as this," he said. "My sister was quite wild to come along with me, once she heard that I was going to meet you. I hope you do not object."
"Object? Why on earth should I...." Carl began. Theresia grinned. It seemed as if Mr. Horvāth's sister was a topic of great importance to her cousin. Her suspicions were confirmed in one moment, when a very pretty young lady joined them. Mr. Horvāth introduced her as his sister, Ilona.
In a way, Theresia could understand her cousin. Ilona Horvāth was beautiful, with dark hair and eyes, a perfect figure and graceful manners. Her dress was elegant, and her conversation was what one called "charming" -- even if Theresia found it rather dull. They were talking about people and things she knew nothing about.
Carl seemed to have forgotten that he had promised his sister to find a "nice, quiet" spot for her to do some drawing. He seemed to have forgotten that his sister was there, even...Marie looked very unhappy, but she did not say anything. She was much too shy to speak up among a load of strangers to remind her brother of a promise he had made.
But Theresia did not mind doing so, not at all.
"Carl," she said, determinedly. "I think you forgot that Marie has come here to draw."
"I did not forget," Carl said. "Will you just wait a few minutes, or is that too much to ask?"
"Not at all", Theresia said sweetly, and decided to teach him a lesson. She took Marie by her hand, and drew her away from the group. No one noticed.
"What do you say, Marie," Theresia whispered. "I am not going to spend my afternoon standing there, listening to their boring talk. Let us find some nice place for ourselves!"
"But, what if Carl cannot find us, Theresia," Marie answered.
"He will be able to find us, Marie," Theresia said firmly. "I do not say we ought to run away, or anything. We can stay somewhere near, and do what we wanted to do -- no one will mind, and they will find us at once. Besides, we will hear them calling us if we stay near enough."
This convinced Marie, and she gave in. Before anyone noticed, Theresia and Marie were gone.
*****
Marie enjoyed herself thoroughly that afternoon. They finally found a beautiful square, surrounded by trees in full bloom, and Marie set upon drawing one of the trees. Theresia sat with her, told her funny anecdotes, and kept a lookout if anyone came in search for them. After about an hour, however, Marie became rather nervous.
"Do you not think it is odd," she said, "that no one has come to look for us yet?"
"Not at all odd," Theresia answered. "You know what it is like, once you meet some friends of yours, time flies...your brother has not noticed yet, I suppose."
Marie nodded, but then she said, "I cannot stay here and be comfortable. Just imagine how worried Carl will be when he finds out that we are gone -- we should have told him. Let us go back."
With a sigh, Theresia got up, helped Marie collect her pencils and chalks, and set out into the direction where they had come from.
However, it was not quite as easy to find one's way around as the girls had imagined, and when they finally reached the spot where they had left Carl and his friends behind, no one was there any more. Marie started to cry. This was not exactly what she had expected.
Theresia, meanwhile, looked around, swearing at her "stupid, thoughtless, //&%/$" cousin, determined to "give him a piece of her mind, leaving them behind like that", and finally offered to go and look for Carl "and drag him back here by his ears".
"Theresia, please, you cannot leave me all by myself," Marie sobbed. "What if you do not come back, either?"
"If you do not want me to go, I shall not," Theresia said, soothingly, suddenly realising that, just maybe, she might be to blame for their situation as well as Carl. Then she saw a big tree.
"You know what I will do?" she asked Marie.
Marie shook her head, searching her pockets for a handkerchief.
"I am going to climb that tree over there," Theresia said, with a grin. "Once up there, I can see what is going on around here, you know. I will be able to see if Carl or any of his friends are around, and where they are. What do you think of that?"
"I do not think it is such a good idea," Marie said, uneasily. "You might fall down, Theresia, and hurt yourself?"
"Fall down? Me?" Theresia said, her tone indicating that this was the most absurd suggestion she had ever heard. "I never fall down trees...jump down, sometimes, but fall down -- NEVER!"
As if to illustrate the meaning of her words, she started unbuttoning her coat, and walked over to the tree. She looked up, smiled, and took off her coat.
"Will you hold it for me," she asked Marie. "I will be back in a moment, you will see, there is nothing to be afraid of."
Then she made her way up the tree, while Marie was standing under the tree, holding her breath and fearing that something awful would happen any moment.
"Can you see anything," she finally asked, excitedly, when Theresia had reached the top.
"No," Theresia said. "At least I do not think I can...although, hang on...I will just step on that branch over there, I think I can have a better look there..."
"Careful! Or you will take a fall!" Marie shrieked.
"I told you before I never fall..." Theresia answered, moving towards the branch in question.
Marie did not dare look at her any more, and turned away, covering her eyes.
"Playing hide-and-seek," someone said next to her. Horrified, Marie opened her eyes and stared right into the face of Mr. Horvāth.
"Anyway, Miss von Hertenberg, I think the game is over, now that I found you, is it not? It has been quite some time since I last played it, but I think I have won. Where have you been? Your brother is quite beside himself with worry."
Marie blushed, and was unable to answer. Even though Mr. Horvāth seemed to be a kind, humorous, well-mannered sort of young man, something about him intimidated her.
He gave her an encouraging smile. "There is no need to worry, Miss von Hertenberg, your brother is too distressed to be angry, really. But where is your cousin? You did not lose her, did you?"
Marie shook her head, and pointed up the tree. Mr. Horvāth laughed.
"Miss von Laudeck," he said, still laughing, and looking up, "Do you not think it is rather early for harvesting apples?"
"It is, sir, especially since this is a cherry tree," Theresia answered snappily, starting to climb down. Once she was safely back on the ground, Mr. Horvāth assisted her in putting on her coat, and said, "Now, Miss von Laudeck, what gave you the idea to run away?"
"I did not run away," Theresia said, angrily. "We walked away, and no one noticed. If we had run, someone would have, I suppose."
"I strongly suspect that we would, Miss von Laudeck," he said. "But you have not answered my question yet. Why did you do that? Your cousin is concerned, he thought he might have lost you forever."
"Serves him right," Theresia answered. "He should not have treated us the way he did."
Mr. Horvāth refrained from answering Theresia's remark. Instead he offered Marie to carry the bag containing her drawing material, and set out towards the park entrance.
Carl was there, waiting for them, white with fear -- or was it anger? It was hard to tell at first -- until he hissed at Theresia, demanding to know where they had been. His feelings became quite obvious then.
"We thought, since you would still be busy for some time, we had better leave you alone," Theresia answered, sweetly.
"We were just around the corner, so had you bothered to look for us, you would have found us soon enough."
"Had I bothered to look for you? What do you think have I been doing this last hour?" Carl said, furiously.
"Ah, so it took you only one hour to realise that we were gone? How amazingly perceptive you are, sir."
With a great deal of effort, Carl controlled himself enough to take leave of his friends, and to make another appointment with Mr. Horvāth.
On their way home, no one spoke. Both Carl and Theresia were extremely angry with each other, and Marie felt too ashamed of herself to say anything. At home, she instantly went upstairs to her room.
Theresia wanted to follow her example, but Carl stopped her.
"One more thing," he said. "Do not ... ever ... try such a trick on me again. I knew you would be nothing but trouble. Why do you not go back to that mountain hut of yours where you belong? No one will miss you here."
SLAP! They both stood there, stared at each other, and none of them was able to tell what had just happened. Theresia stared at Carl, her hand still raised. It was obvious that she was as surprised at her reaction as Carl was.
Then she turned around and ran upstairs, while Carl, rubbing his cheek, decided he needed a drink before he went to his room to change. That impudent girl had actually had the nerve to slap him! Someone had to teach her some manners soon...
Both, Theresia as much as Carl, kept thinking about what had happened that Sunday for quite some time. None of them was willing to find much fault in their own behaviour; they were most ready to blame the other for what had happened.
They avoided each other as much as it was possible, and when Baron von Hertenberg and Joseph returned from the country, the Baron soon noticed that something was wrong. He decided to ask Carl for an explanation. Carl acted as if he did not know what his father was alluding to. This playing silly, or, as his father chose to express it, "momentary stupidity", did work sometimes -- but not this time.
"Carl, there is no use eluding me," Baron von Hertenberg said. "I do know that relations between you and your cousin are a bit strained, to say the least, but until now you were sort of polite, at least. What happened?"
"If you have to know, Father, we had a bit of a quarrel," Carl answered, unwillingly. He was certain that Theresia had lost no time in telling his father what had occurred, and decided to get even with her as soon as possible.
"A bit of a quarrel, I see," the Baron said. "Do you not think it a bit beneath your dignity to quarrel with a thirteen-year-old girl, son? I thought you had some more pride than that."
Carl did not bother to answer. He was angry, and he knew very well that he'd better not show his anger as long as his father was around.
"Anyway, I will not hear of any such thing any more," Baron von Hertenberg went on, after a short pause. "Remember that Theresia von Laudeck is our guest, and treat her with the courtesy that is due to every guest in this house. I hope I have made myself clear."
"You have, sir," Carl said.
"Good. I hope I will not have to remind you of your duty to my visitors in the future. Now for another thing. I have heard your friend Lieutenant Horvāth is in town. What do you think of inviting him to join us at Hertenberg? It would be some means of compensation, after all we robbed him of your company often enough."
"I am sure that he would wish to come, Father, but I am afraid he cannot. He will not get any leave of absence."
"Says who?" said Baron von Hertenberg, grinning. "Leave that to me, son."
Carl sighed. "I will ask him," he said, "but I am not sure if he will join us."
*****
"Again," Signora Giovanelli said to Theresia. "You are not doing your best today."
"I am doing my best," Theresia protested, and sang the song again.
"No, you are not. Sing it again."
Theresia tried again, concentrating on what Signora Giovanelli had told her before. She would never have believed that she would, one day, think that singing was hard work.
"What is wrong with you," the Signora asked her, when she had finished. "Have you forgotten everything I told you?"
Theresia sighed. "I do not know, really, I do not. I am trying..."
Signora Giovanelli went over to her, and said, "Very well, let us talk, then. If an otherwise good singer starts having problems, it usually means they are either falling ill or something distresses them. I am not always at my best, either. What do you think is it that makes singing so difficult for you today?"
"I do not really know...I have to say I did not have as much time to practise as I wanted lately, what with preparing for our summer journey to Hertenberg. And then, I am so sad sometimes, and I cannot sing when I am sad."
"You can sing when you are sad, Theresia. But you should keep to sad songs. Anyway, you should always try to feel what you sing -- it makes it easier, and it improves your performance. How do you feel today? Sad, happy, angry? Tell me!"
The Signora gave Theresia an encouraging smile.
"Rather odd, I think -- but angry, mostly. My cousin has bothered me again, and I do not know why he did. It seems he blames me because his father has found out about our quarrel, but I did not tell Uncle Hertenberg anything about it. He must have found out by himself -- but you should have heard Carl. I think I am going to scratch his eyes out one day."
Signora Giovanelli got up and searched among her vast collection of music sheets, until she had found what she was looking for. With a satisfied smile, she handed the music over to Theresia.
"I think you are in the right mood for that one," she said.
Theresia read the heading and some bits of the lyrics.
"I cannot sing that one," she said. "And I am not going to."
"Why not?"
"Well...I know nothing about such things as love, for example. I am not supposed to, anyway. I am angry, not in love."
"And you think that a woman burning her lover's letters because he has deserted her is NOT angry?"
"I do not know, but I suppose she would be sad, rather than angry."
"She would be both, I am sure. Now try it, you will see it will do you good. It will be a better means of letting your feelings out than scratching your cousin's eyes out -- or slapping his face."
Signora Giovanelli gave Theresia a cunning smile. She was the only one Theresia had told about the Prater incident and its consequences.
Theresia laughed. "Hardly. That could become a favourite occupation of mine, I can tell you. I was very near doing it again today."
*****
"You are pulling my leg," Horvāth said to Carl, staring at him in surprise. "I would not have thought her capable of that. Respect!"
They were in the billiard room of a local coffee house, and Carl had just told his friend what had happened after he had brought his sister and cousin home the previous Sunday.
With a sour look, Carl replied, "What is so remarkable about it that she has deserved your respect, Horvāth?"
"She stands up for herself. I like that," Horvāth said, leaning on his cue in a rather careless manner. "Your turn, by the way. Make your shot."
Carl walked round the billiard table, slowly, trying to figure out which ball to play next.
"She stands up for herself, you say. So she does, no doubt, but she is getting on my nerves, if you understand what I mean," he said. "And I do not like that. Besides, she has no business dealing with grown-ups the way she does."
"Talking of grown-ups, you mean yourself, I suppose," Horvāth said, casually, preparing his cue for the next shot. "May I remind you that you did not really act in a very grown-up manner?"
"Whose side are you on," Carl said, angrily, standing behind his friend.
"I do not take any sides," Horvāth answered, taking aim.
"Do not act as if you were good at billiards," Carl said, grinning. "By the way, my father wants me to ask you something. Would you like to come along to Hertenberg with us?"
"I cannot -- will be on duty all summer, and duty requires my presence in Vienna," Horvāth said. "Sorry."
Carl grinned. "My father said something different, though. He is rather convinced that your presence in Vienna is not as necessary as it used to be."
"Is it not? Well, he ought to know," Horvāth answered.
"So, what do you say? Will you come along?"
"If I get leave of absence, I will. If not, I cannot, can I?"
"Good! I have no doubt you will not have any difficulties whatsoever in obtaining it."
Finally, the day everyone had looked forward to with a great deal of anxiety had arrived. The von Hertenberg family set out to their country estate, where they were to spend the next two or three months.
The Baron had started this habit in the early years of his marriage, adopting his wife's notion of "spending the summer in the country". He, himself, preferred the city, but since he was unable to refuse his wife any wish, he had given in to her fancy, even if it meant a great deal of inconvenience for himself. He would have to leave his family frequently, to attend to his duties in Vienna, and a thirty-mile-journey every few days was not an easy thing to accomplish for a man at his age.
He sometimes thought back to those days when such a thing had meant nothing to him, when old age had not been at his heels as it was now. But he would not have swapped places with any of his sons for the world -- they were just at their beginning, and he did not envy them the experiences they had yet to make. Experiences everyone had to go through sooner or later -- and, in his case, he was quite relieved that they were long past. No, he would not wish to be five-and-twenty again.
The Baroness, too, was a bit anxious. She had recovered from her illness, but was not quite certain if she was already well enough to venture on such a journey. She had therefore persuaded her husband not to travel the entire distance to Hertenberg in one day, but to spend the night somewhere halfway between Vienna and Hertenberg. When her husband had suggested that they had better stay in Vienna if she did not feel up to travelling, she had dismissed any such thought, however. She had promised the children that they would go there, and there was an end to it. She would manage somehow, no doubt, and the country air would do her good. It always did.
Theresia was looking forward to the stay in the country. She had missed living in a village very much -- in town she could not move about as she wished to, she could never go on a stroll all by herself. There was always someone with her. For someone who had always been free to do whatever she chose, this felt like being a prisoner. Theresia hoped that she would be less confined in the country.
*****
Theresia fell in love with Hertenberg at first sight. The estate was large, even larger than her father's. There was a huge park with a beautiful mansion in the middle of it. The stables and barns were at a short distance from the house, and Theresia, having grown up in the country, noticed that this part of the estate was well kept.
Theresia mentioned this to her cousin Joseph, and he seemed to be very pleased with Theresia's praise.
"Do you like it here, then," he asked.
"Very much, yes," Theresia replied. "It reminds me of my home, a bit ... although the house is not as old as our place, and everything is a bit larger. But then there is much more space here. No one could get that much property where I come from, simply because the mountains would get into the way. Would you care for fifty acres of solid rock?"
Joseph laughed. "Not really, no."
"See? My father does not, either. But, really, this is a fine place."
"I hope you will enjoy yourself, then," Joseph answered, and turned to his mother and Miss Grant to inquire if they had had a pleasant journey.
Theresia's room was next to Marie's, just as her room in Vienna was.
The first evening at Hertenberg was a rather quiet affair, since the long journey had made everyone tired. The two girls retired to their rooms shortly after supper, and the grown-ups did not stay up much longer.
In the middle of the night, Theresia was woken up by a deafening thunder. She was used to thunderstorms and did not mind them, usually, but this one was different. Around Hertenberg, there were no mountains to dim the sound of thunder or to keep away the worst of the tempest. Here, the powers of Nature were at work completely unrestrained -- and Theresia had to admit that, even if this country did lack scenery, they did have thunderstorms. REAL thunderstorms.
Slowly, the door opened and in came Marie, barefoot, wearing her nightdress.
"Theresia," she whispered. "Are you awake?"
"I am," Theresia answered. "What is it, Marie?"
"I only wanted to see if...I...I...are you afraid?"
"Afraid of what? The storm?" Theresia said, trying to sound more courageous than she was.
"The storm, yes. It is terrible...those thunderstorms always frighten me," Marie replied. "May I stay with you until it is over?"
"Certainly," Theresia replied, glad to have a companion. She had not felt that safe, either.
Marie came to Theresia's bed and sat down on it. Theresia moved over to make room for Marie.
"It is silly, is it not," Marie said, quietly. "But I am frightened every time there is a thunderstorm. It is all right during the day, because there is always someone around. But at night...the night makes it much scarier, does it not?"
"I do not know," Theresia answered. "I am not afraid of thunderstorms. Though we have pretty bad ones at home, sometimes. But the dangerous thing is not so much the storm itself -- it is what can come afterwards, you know. Those rivers and streams at home are quite likely to overflow in nights like this -- my old nursemaid used to say that 'one may be able to run away from the fire, but not from water'. She said the water was much more dangerous. And yet, whenever there was a storm, she was on her knees, praying until it was over. She begged the "Holy Cross" to keep the lightning-bolt away from us. Seems she was afraid of fire, after all."
"Do you think that helps? Praying, I mean?" Marie asked.
Theresia laughed. "Who knows? At least it takes away the fear, I think. And my uncle always says every moment is right for a prayer."
"Your uncle, the priest?"
"My uncle, the priest. I only have this one uncle. Do you have any uncles?"
"Yes, there is my uncle Macmillan in England, but I have never met him. Then there are some of my father's friends whom I call uncle, even though they are no relations of mine."
Another flash of lightning and roar of thunder made Marie start. "Theresia," she said, "can you tell me a story? I need something to keep my thoughts off the storm..."
So Theresia began to tell Marie about the day when her brother had shown her the entrance to the secret passage that led outside from one of the old rooms in her home. They had gone down a spiralled staircase into the cellars, and from there another passage had taken them outside -- so they had found themselves a couple of hundred yards away from the castle.
Martin had shown her the entrance, but he had not shown her how to open it, and try as she might, she had never succeeded to get in by herself ... which she thought was rather a pity.
"That passage would be a convenient hiding place, you know," Theresia said to Marie. Only when Marie did not answer Theresia noticed that she had fallen asleep.
The storm outside subsided, and Theresia slowly drifted off into sleep as well.
IV
Theresia enjoyed herself thoroughly in Hertenberg. The garden and the river provided enough amusement for her, and when Joseph invited her and Marie to join him on his daily ride around the estate to survey the harvesters' work, Theresia could hardly believe her luck. She had not had any opportunity to go horse riding ever since she had left her home, and this sounded like a perfect way to spend one's morning.
Marie was not so happy about the suggestion. She had never liked riding very
much, and was therefore quite happy to refuse her brother's invitation and go
for walks with Miss Grant instead.
Still, somehow Theresia and Joseph always managed to join them sooner or later,
left their horses at the stables and took another turn with them in the garden.
Marie was surprised to see how well Joseph and Miss Grant got along with each
other, and one day she asked Theresia what she thought about it.
"I do not know," Theresia answered. "I noticed nothing extraordinary -- why do you ask?"
"Oh, I only thought it was rather odd," Marie answered.
"Why? Why should your brother not enjoy Miss Grant's company?" Theresia said. "Miss Grant is very nice, and clever, and pretty, too. Joseph would be a complete idiot if he did not appreciate that."
Marie laughed. "I suppose you are right," she said. "Joseph is anything but an idiot, so he is bound to find out about Miss Grant's virtues sooner or later."
*****
Even with Carl, Theresia had formed some sort of "gentlemen's agreement". It had all started one afternoon, when Theresia and Marie had met him on one of their walks in the garden.
He had invited them, rather civilly, to join him, as he wanted to see if the strawberries were ripe already.
"Strawberries," Theresia exclaimed, her eyes shining with delight.
Carl laughed, but it was a good-natured laugh. "It seems I have hit the right nerve here," he said. "Do you want some strawberries?"
"I would love to have some," Theresia answered, smiling enthusiastically.
"Well, come with me and get yourself some," he answered.
Theresia's face darkened, as she suddenly recollected with whom she was speaking. "I cannot," she said, gloomily.
"Why not," Carl said, giving her a surprised look. Was the girl going to snub him again, after he had taken considerable pains to be on friendly terms with her?
"I do not belong here, remember?" Theresia snapped, building up her defences again.
For a moment, Carl stared at her in amazement, not quite believing that his unguarded comment the other day might have done such damage. He realised that he might have been unfair, and that Theresia, just perhaps, might have a reason to dislike him.
"You know," he began slowly, "you should not take everything I say so very seriously. I did not really mean what I said the other day."
He noticed Marie's encouraging smile.
"How am I to know, then?" Theresia answered reproachfully. "Where I come from, people say what they think. Or nothing at all."
Now Carl felt thoroughly ashamed for the way he had treated Theresia right from the beginning, but of course he was not quite ready to admit that he had been in the wrong.
Therefore he only said, with a smile, "I will try to keep silent in the future, then. So, do you want strawberries now?"
"If you get me some, I do," Theresia said, grinning, and Marie gave Carl a happy smile, showing him how pleased she was with his efforts.
That afternoon their truce had started, but none of them deceived themselves so far as to believe that it would last long. Theresia especially remained distrustful towards Carl --he had hurt her feelings with his remarks too often, and she did not forgive easily. She appreciated his present good behaviour, but she did not forget what had passed between them before.
Carl, who had finally given up his negative attitude towards her -- at least to a certain point -- treated her a bit like his sister now. Not quite as affectionately, as he still wished Theresia had not come in the first place, but he had got accustomed to her.
One evening, when the family was listening to one of Theresia's performances, Carl said to his friend Horvāth, "You know, she is not that much of a nuisance as I thought her at the beginning."
"Hear, hear," Horvāth answered, with a smile. "I always told you so. Had she been about three years older, you would have fallen over yourself to make a good impression on her."
"Nonsense."
"Oh, do not deny it. She is a pretty girl already. Wait a few years and you will have to ward her suitors off with a stick."
"By then she will be back with her parents and off our hands, hopefully," Carl said.
Horvāth laughed. "You sound like an old uncle talking about an unpleasant charge of his. I will remind you of this some day, you may depend on it."
"Horvāth?"
"Yes?"
"Shut up."
"Call me silence itself," Horvāth said, grinning, and turning his attention to Theresia's piano concerto again.
*****
There was someone else in the von Hertenberg family who felt entirely at ease in the country: Joseph. He had grown up in the city, but had always looked forward to spending his summers on the family estate. Joseph had been a bright, clever boy who had taken a great deal of interest in natural science, and he had always been able to indulge in his hobby during his summer vacations. Though he had done well in all subjects in school, the sciences had been his favourite. When his father had suggested his going to University, Joseph had agreed with him -- however, his choice of career had not suited his father.
Baron von Hertenberg had wanted his son to study the law, which was, in his opinion, a very genteel way of earning one's money -- especially if one managed to get one of the highly prestigious posts in one of the ministries. But the law was not what Joseph had wanted -- his dearest wish had been to study medicine.
On one of his solitary morning walks, he remembered his father's reaction on his ambition.
"Medicine," his father had said, giving him a disbelieving look. "You cannot be serious."
"Why not," Joseph had answered, rather hurt.
"For several reasons. Believe me, no son of mine will become a quack."
"Quack? You do not think me capable of going about it in a serious manner then? This is the point of studying medicine, Father."
"Where would you want to study, anyway? The good medical schools are far away. I am not going to send you to Heaven knows where to become a doctor who does not know any more about the human body than a butcher."
"You forget that the medical school in Vienna has a very good reputation, Father, even if it is not as old as Montpellier or Salerno."
"You are not talking about the one attached to the military hospital?"
"Give me one good reason why I should not join the military," Joseph had said.
"You? Of all people? Joseph, you have no idea what it is like. Forget it, no son of mine will end up an army surgeon."
"You do not think me capable of it," Joseph had said sadly, realising how low his father's opinion of him had to be.
Baron von Hertenberg had sighed. "Joseph, I know you well enough to know that you could never be content in my profession. You would be utterly unhappy, you would not be able to stand it, believe me. You can trust me with that. I know you well enough to be certain that the military is the last career suitable for you."
"Good, but that does not explain why you do not want me to study medicine, Father. I need not join the army in order to do that."
"I already told you I have something else in mind for you, son," the Baron had answered.
In the end, none of them had got what they had wanted. Joseph was not allowed to study medicine, and had therefore refused to go to the university at all. He had had no inclination for the law, and had decided to become a farmer instead. There was the family estate, certainly he could be of assistance to his father in that respect -- and, to the surprise of all the family, his father had given in, and had left him in charge of Hertenberg.
So the place had become a real home for Joseph, the only place where he felt useful and content. He had plans of his own with Hertenberg -- he wanted to breed horses there. The place was ideal for the purpose, and if he could get hold of some good horses to build up his stock ... Joseph hoped for Lieutenant Horvāth's help there. As far as he knew, from his brother's information about Horvāth, he had grown up on one of the largest Hungarian horse farms. Besides, he was a cavalry officer and as such could tell him what sort of animals the army needed. With such information, Joseph could start purchasing, and he was quite certain that through his father's acquaintance with the right people, the project could be successful. He was determined to show his father that he could be useful if people just let him.
Joseph had been so lost in his reflection, that he only noticed Miss Grant when she greeted him.
"Miss Grant," he said, "I did not see you coming. Have you been to the village?"
"Yes, I went there to inquire if there were any letters for me," Miss Grant answered. "I have not heard from my sister for weeks, which makes me rather uneasy."
Joseph realised that he had never even thought about the fact that Miss Grant might have a family, or friends, back in England.
"I am certain you will have news from her soon," he said soothingly. "Perhaps her letter was directed to Vienna, that might explain the delay. -- I did not know you had a sister, Miss Grant."
"I am certain there are many things you do not know about me, sir. You are not supposed to, either."
"Of course not, Miss Grant," Joseph said stiffly. He had not wanted to appear curious, he had just wanted to show some interest. Just to say something, he offered Miss Grant to walk to the house with her.
She gave him an anxious look. "I hope you are not angry with me, sir," she said. "I did not mean to be rude."
"I am not at all angry," Joseph answered. "You are right, your private affairs are none of my business. I am the one who has to apologise."
They walked on, without saying anything. Miss Grant was walking quite fast, as if to avoid being with Joseph for longer than was absolutely necessary. Joseph noticed it, and felt a bit sad about it. It was not as if he was such an unpleasant companion, after all.
"How is my cousin Theresia doing," he finally managed to say. "Has she finished her history book?" Certainly Miss Grant could have nothing against talking about her pupils' progress.
"She has, and she seems to have taken a liking to history now," Miss Grant said. "However, I do not think it was my success. I heard you spent a great deal of time reading with her, sir."
"Not as much as I had wanted to," Joseph answered. "I do believe it was your merit, principally."
They had arrived at the door, and Miss Grant went inside, without much ado. She seemed to be in a hurry to get rid of him, Joseph thought. Strange... and sad. He would have loved to spend some more time with her -- and if he could only get her to talk to him about her friends and family in England. He knew she did not have much opportunity to indulge in such talk here -- apart from the Hertenbergs, and one or two other English governesses in Vienna, she knew no one. At least Joseph had that impression.
*****
The next day, Joseph had some errand in the village and decided to drop in at the post to take his family's letters with him. There were several for his mother -- Joseph recognised Aunt Macmillan's handwriting on one envelope and gave an inward sigh. He did not need to make any plans for tonight's entertainment, it seemed. One rather official looking letter had arrived for Joseph's father. It was from his regiment's headquarters -- possibly his father was needed back in Vienna, in which case he would soon be gone. Joseph was about to leave the office, when the postman stopped him.
"Sir, this English lady works for your family, doesn't she?"
"You mean Miss Grant? Yes, she does," Joseph answered, turning around.
"There is a letter for her -- she asked me to keep it here until she comes to pick it up, but I think she will have nothing against my giving it to you -- will you give her the letter? She was here yesterday and looked rather worried because the letter had not yet arrived."
"Certainly," Joseph answered and took the letter. It was obvious that the letter was from a woman -- the handwriting was too feminine to leave any doubt about that. He was sure that this was the long waited-for letter from Miss Grant's sister, and he was happy on Miss Grant's account.
She would certainly be relieved when she found out that there was nothing wrong with her sister -- and Joseph did not want her to be uneasy for longer than necessary. Therefore he hurried home and went in search for Miss Grant to give her the letter in person. Miss Grant was in the garden with Theresia and Marie. Marie was drawing a sketch, trying to take Theresia's likeness. Miss Grant was supervising Marie's efforts, and gave her a useful hint now and then. Joseph glanced at Marie's sketch. It was rather good, even if it did not look much like Theresia -- but he would not tell Marie so. It would discourage her, he thought, and therefore kept silent.
Instead, he told Miss Grant that he had been at the post office and that he had taken the liberty to bring her letter with him.
Miss Grant gave him a grateful smile. "You are very kind, sir," she said. "Thank you very much. You should not have taken the trouble, though. I had planned to go into the village again this afternoon -- I could have fetched the post myself."
Joseph assured her that it had not been any trouble at all.
"But I am not going to keep you from reading your letter any longer," he added with a smile. "I am certain you are impatient to read it -- if you want to do so now, shall I stay with my sister and cousin for a while, so you can read your letter in private?"
He noticed the skeptical look she gave him. It seemed hard for her to believe that someone in the family took enough interest to recognise what she wanted or needed -- and, even better, made an effort to oblige her.
Miss Grant left her pupils to read her letter, convinced that Joseph von Hertenberg was an extraordinary young man, to say the least. He was sympathetic, agreeable -- too agreeable to keep up appearances of disinterested friendship, and Miss Grant was certain that if she did not take care of herself, there might be trouble soon.
Š 2002 Copyright held by the author.