Angela Langer

“ One day I was with the children on the balcony, and my mistress had also come out for a moment. I sat busy with some mending, when all at once I felt somebody else was present. Without looking up I recognized the voice that I knew so well, and my heart beat faster. I thought that he would come and speak to me. He, however, did not do so, but spoke to my mistress. At that the blood mounted to my cheeks. "The coward," I said to myself; "he does not even dare to speak to me." I trembled with shame and rage, and nothing on earth could have induced me to look up. ”

“ She may be a little tiresome, but she is a good, honest girl, who has not had the best of luck, who, indeed, has come from a home where everything seems opposed to her own instincts and inclinations. Her father's business is perpetually on the down-grade, and his little commercial enterprises invariably fail, and leave him worse off than he was before. The mother, of course, is always on the verge of tears, because it is her painful duty to try and make both ends meet—a feat which she is eternally unable to accomplish. ”

“ When would he come [Pg 72] to take me away, like the princes came in the fairy tales to woo a shepherdess or a kitchen-maid? I felt so sure that we were destined to meet some day, but it seemed a long, long way off. Sometimes a doubting fear would overcome me. How if the picture of my dreams—that picture so proud, so far away—should never turn into a form of flesh and blood, but ever be a dream! At such moments I was weak and foolish. I looked down at my hands, which were so red and ugly from washing-up and scrubbing. If no man would ever love me because of my red and ugly hands, what then? ”

“ It was my brother's last words that worried me beyond expression—"You will find me in the Kamp, if you should happen to look for me to-morrow."
I imagined him plunging into the dark green water, sinking slowly and being found entangled in the tall reeds near the banks. "Mother," I said, speaking incoherently and almost inaudibly, "do you think that he will?"
"Don't ask me anything," she replied; "I am the most unfortunate woman under the sun." ”

“ I thought of my own poems, and could not understand him.
"Why can't you feel and think exactly as other people do?" I asked.
"Lord!" he cried, and laughed again as [Pg 125] terribly as before, "how can you imagine such a thing? To be locked in between four walls, to have to carry trays, and to bow and scrape all day long! Can't you understand that by leading such a miserable life as mine, the soul degenerates, the brain decays, and the whole being goes down to the level of a working animal?" ”

“ I stood like one rooted to the ground, and all that I was able to do was to look after her and watch how she went away slowly, sometimes very slowly.
One day I heard from a schoolfellow that Hilda had been sent to Krems in order to join a seminary for school-teachers. After that I felt as lonely and wretched as a child has ever felt. It is true that she had never spoken to me again, but her figure was the most vivid picture in my mind, and to watch her secretly from behind a quiet corner had filled my heart with a happiness strangely sweet and sad.... ”

“ My eyes looked into the far distance and my thoughts measured years to come—years during which we would give each other all the treasures of heart and soul without ever getting any the poorer—years during which neither of us would know the pangs of remorse, the blushing with shame—years during which I would suffer all that a woman may suffer. ”

“ My life now began to be entirely different. All the week I worked gaily for that one glorious day on which my lessons took place. I had bought a grammar of the English language, and studied it whenever I could spare a minute. My teacher seemed much pleased with my zeal, but I soon found out that she had made up her mind to give me lessons in more things than English.
One day when I sat with her in her room, that had never lost its charm for me, she asked me quite abruptly why a button was missing from my jacket, and why my nails were always dirty. ”

“ Anna, too, has realized her loneliness. She is doomed to be the Eternal Virgin, the predestinate spinster. In a world in which the feminine race largely predominates there are not lovers and husbands enough to go round, and she must remain outside that charmed circle—the leaping flames of love and passion, which seem to embrace all the world except herself. ”

“ In her room she sat down, and looked at me thoughtfully.
"You want to look for a place already to-day, don't you?" she said. "I can quite understand that you are in some hurry; but, as I have agreed to take care of your soul, I cannot let such an earnest matter as this one pass without giving you a little motherly advice. So many girls arrive in London daily, who have left their homes in the sweetness and innocence of their youth, and who return home quite otherwise. Therefore I should like to know that you are prepared for all dangers which might threaten you. ”

“ In front of the house there was a large kitchen-garden that adjoined a still larger orchard, a spot full of ever new delights. At one time an apple-tree, as if to tease us, would let a beautiful apple fall to our feet ”

“ She comes across a man of about thirty, who smokes his cigar, as she herself says, "with elegant ease," and who discourses about many things—about intoxication, about remorse, about books, about art, and about her poems. Gradually the intimacy grows, and Anna's whole life, and even her literary style, becomes eloquent because the love of her life has dawned on her horizon. ”

“ The gentleman then said that he lived at Krems, and that I could come home sometimes. The day of my arrival as well as a few other things having been settled, the manager bowed himself out. As soon as the door had closed behind him I glanced rather shyly at my mother, but she looked into my eyes steadily and said: "As you absolutely will not stay at home, it is best that you should go soon to see for yourself what the world is like." ”

“ What did hands matter at all? What had the heart, the mind, the soul of a man or woman in common with his or her hands? The man of my dreams was not a man who would love a girl only for her beauty. No; he would love me for the purity of my [Pg 73] thoughts, the chastity of my longing, and for that wonderful part of my being that made me write my poems and dream all day.
Once on washing-day I was standing at the tub, when the door opened and my mother came in. ”

“ My mistress had shown the manager some of the verses discovered in the drawer, but he had laughed and responded that she had better not turn my head altogether since I was a good, hard-working girl, and that there were a far greater number of good poets than good servants in existence. The manager had to go away to Vienna nearly every week. One day when he had gone there as usual and the children were put to bed, Madam came down into the kitchen where I was busily washing up, and said: "Anna, I want to speak to you." ”

“ What I had felt during those hours was no hatred, no anger, but a [Pg 145] great inexpressible grief. I awoke in the morning like one stunned, and did my work mechanically. When I took the children to school I paid little heed to their talk, but tormented my brain to find out how to leave that house at once. I remembered the twenty-five shillings which I owed the cook, and the horrible fact that my wages were not due for a fortnight. If I was going to leave right away the money due to me would not even have covered my debt. ”

“ At that they all laughed, and, after having cooled down a little, one of the girls said:
"You don't seem to know London ways yet, and we shall have to do a little for you. In such clothes you will never get a situation; I can give you that by writing, my dear."
"But what am I to do?"
"Leave her alone," the fair girl intervened; "she who does not possess chic by nature will never acquire it." ”

“ Meanwhile Anna pursues her own way, very humble, very insignificant, but always trying to do her best. She is a governess, and endures the usual fate of governesses, being either bullied or made love to—bullied by the mistress, and on one occasion compromisingly made love to by the master. One solace she has—the writing of poems. A characteristic German trait this! And so she sits and dreams, for she is the most sentimental little person you ever came across—sentimental to the full extent of Teutonic capacity, with her head full of Weltschmerz and Schwärmerei. ”

“ Would I like to write to her and ask her whether she cared to make friends with me? I was, of course, eager to get to know the girl so tenderly spoken of by my beloved mistress, and agreed with all my heart. I wrote to her on the following day, and received an answer by return of post. Her letter was brief, but sweet. When I showed the note to the cook, she said: "That is a real lady, to be sure." I had, of course, no doubt about that. By the flickering light of the candle, I sat down a few days later to write to my new friend, but found it extremely difficult to begin. ”

“ Anna is like little Mowgli in Rudyard Kipling's "The Jungle Book," who stands desolate and alone in the springtime when all the animal creation with whom he had consorted so amicably are inspired by that passionate feeling which comes to them in the opening year, but which leaves the little human boy untouched and forlorn. ”

“ Something was roused within me, uplifting itself against that desolation, growing and growing until it towered above all anxiety and fear—a new self-consciousness together with a new strength. Thus I commenced to fight the battle that each woman is called upon to fight once at least, and which is more formidable than all the battles of war that have ever been fought by man. ”

“ Such is the life story of Anna, the heroine of "Rue and Roses." Very simple, very sentimental, but with a rare charm for those who have the wit to understand and the heart to feel, and written in a style of much tenderness and felicity. Do not put it down because the earlier portion may seem uninteresting. Read on to the finish, and you will be rewarded; for this is the story of one who realized her mission, a mission which falls to the lot of many women—a mission of loneliness with occasional moments of inspiration. ”

“ I said slowly but decisively, "I would much rather learn English."
"I have thought of everything," she continued after a pause; "the mistress must not know about it. She herself has never learnt [Pg 98] anything of that sort, and would consider it to be nothing but pride on your part. But it might be managed, nevertheless, if you would learn only in the evening after you have put the children to bed."
"Of course," I cried delightedly; "I would not dream of doing it during the daytime. There is only one thing," I added thoughtfully: "where shall I be able to find a teacher in the evening?" ”

“ I thought angrily—"why [Pg 52] was Hilda sent away? why not Leopoldine?" Whenever we met, her face wore a malicious smile, the very smile it had worn when she had said those terrible words to me. I began to hate her, and prayed every night to God that He might cause her mother (she had no father) to be locked up too. But her mother never got locked up. One day when I accidentally passed their house I saw a lot of labourers busying themselves over it, and when I, driven by curiosity, stole by in the dusk another evening, the house looked more beautiful than ever. ”

“ One day all our furniture was moved and put on a furniture-van. When everything had gone, my mother took my brother and myself to another house, where we recognized our furniture at once. As it had grown late, my mother gave us our supper and put us to bed. Next morning we were both frightfully busy. We examined the little courtyard, and found a brooklet flowing right through it. ”