Clear the Track! A Story of To-day. E. Werner
the unsuspecting lady with impetuous caresses.
"But, Maia, you will choke me to death," cried the horrified lady, freeing herself with some difficulty. "Why, dear me, it is striking twelve already! We must go down. I shall only cast one more glance into the chamber, to see if all there is in order."
She left the parlor, and Maia fluttered down the steps like a butterfly, Puck bounding after her, as a matter of course. The dwelling-rooms of the family were in the lower story; there the large reception hall was likewise decorated, in honor of the expected guests with tall laurel, and orange-trees and the whole flora, of the hot-houses. There stood a young man, who seemed to be waiting for somebody, who, upon seeing the young lady of the house, made a very low and reverential bow. Maia bestowed upon him a casual nod.
"Good-day, Herr Hagenbach. Is the doctor here too?"
"He is, and at your service, Miss Dernburg," answered the person interrogated, with a second bow just as low. "My uncle is with your father, laying before him the week's report of the infirmary, and I–I am waiting here for him–with your most gracious permission."
"Oh, yes, you have my permission," said Maia, highly amused at this overstrained reverence, while Puck eyed, with somewhat critical glances, the stranger whose plaid pantaloons seemed to excite his displeasure.
Herr Hagenbach was a very young man, with exceedingly light hair, and exceedingly pale blue eyes, and a timid, awkward gait. The meeting evidently threw him into great embarrassment, for he reddened and stammered considerably. Nevertheless, he seemed to feel the necessity of showing himself versed in the usages of society, for several times he made the effort to speak in vain, and finally succeeded in getting out the words:
"May–may I venture to ask after your health, Miss Dernburg?"
"I thank you, my health is perfectly good," answered Maia, the corners of whose mouth began to twitch.
"I am exceedingly glad to hear it," asseverated the young man. He had really purposed to say something else, something intellectual, important, but nothing, alas! occurred to him, and so he continued:
"I cannot tell you how delighted I am to hear it, and I hope Madam von Ringstedt is well, too."
Maia, with difficulty suppressed a laugh, while she answered his question in the affirmative. Herr Hagenbach, who was still on his vain chase after the witty remark, meanwhile persisting convulsively in inquiring after the health of every member of the family, then asked for the third time: "And young Herr Dernburg–"
"Has gone to the railroad station," wound up Maia, who could no longer restrain her merriment. "You may be easy as to the condition of my brother, however, and of my father, as well–the whole family thank you for your extraordinary kindness in asking after our health."
Herr Hagenbach's embarrassment increased perceptibly. In his confusion he bowed down before Puck, who was still devoting his attention to the plaid pantaloons, and tried to stroke him, while he remarked: "What a dear little doggie!"
The dear little doggie, however, showed himself very unappreciative of this caress, and darted, with a loud bark, at the legs of the young man who jumped back, but Puck sprang after and stuck his teeth into the gay trousers. The person attacked, who did not dare to drive away the young lady's dog, took refuge behind the tub of flowers, at his heels his pursuer, who now aimed his attack at his legs, while Maia, instead of calling off the dog, was highly amused at the scene.
Fortunately help now came from a different direction. Out of the door leading to Dernburg's apartments, stepped an elderly gentleman, who, without further ceremony, seized the still yelping Spitz by the nape of his woolly neck, and lifted him up, while he said fretfully,
"Why did you not defend yourself, Dagobert? Were you going to let him tear your pantaloons off you? Puck is such an artful little rascal!"
Dagobert, all out of breath, stood under a laurel-tree, looking greatly relieved–and now Maia also came forward.
"Let go the evil-doer, do, Dr. Hagenbach. There would really have been no risk to your nephew's life. In the whole course of the one year of Puck's life he has never torn a single man to pieces."
"It is enough to make a dead-set at pantaloons, especially when they are such magnificent ones as the pair that has just been imperiled," answered Doctor Hagenbach pleasantly, as he set down the tiny, struggling creature. "A good-day to you, Miss Maia! No need to ask after your health, I perceive."
"No, indeed, it has certainly been sufficiently asked after, for one day," protested the young lady, with a saucy look at Dagobert. She took her little dog upon her arm and caused it to make a comical bow.
"Beg pardon, Puck, and promise that you will not do it again. Good-morning, gentlemen, I must go to papa as fast as ever I can." And with a careless salutation she flew off to her father's rooms.
Dr. Hagenbach, the surgeon for the works and Dernburg family-physician, was a man of forty-five or forty-six years, whose hair already began to be tinged with gray here and there, and whose figure tended to rather too much fullness, was, on the whole a fine-looking man, the perfect counterpart of the nephew to whom he now turned.
"You have played the part of a veritable hero, to be sure!" mocked he. "That ungovernable little thing only wanted to play, and you to run away!"
"I did not want to treat the young lady's pet roughly," explained Dagobert, solicitously examining his pantaloons, that fortunately had not been damaged. The uncle silently shrugged his shoulders.
"We shall hardly be able to make the visit to-day to Miss Friedberg," said he then. "As I just learned, they are expecting the party from Nice in about an hour, and the whole house is upset, preparing to receive them. But since we are here, I'll make the attempt, anyhow, to speak with the lady; you meanwhile can be recovering composure, both as to the outward and inner man."
He mounted the stairs, and at the top met the governess, who had just come out of the parlor. Almost daily she saw the doctor, who, for long years, had stood upon a very friendly footing with the Dernburg family, nevertheless, there was a perceptible reserve in her manner as she returned his greeting. Hagenbach seemed not to remark this, he asked lightly after her health, listening in the same way to her answer, and then said:
"I had an especial reason for calling upon you, Miss Friedberg. The time is badly chosen, it is true, for apparently you, too, are engrossed by the coming reception of the expected guests, but my request can be made in a few minutes, so permit me to lay it before you, just as we stand."
"You have a request to make of me?" asked Leona, with cool surprise. "Actually?"
"You think I can do nothing but give orders and write prescriptions, I suppose. Yes, Miss Friedberg, it is the physician's right, he must preserve his authority under all circumstances, especially when he has to do with so-called nervous patients."
He emphasized the word, in a way that evidently provoked his hearer, for she replied tartly:
"Why, I believe your authority remains undisputed, security is given for that by your very considerate manner of ensuring obedience."
"Even as–I know patients upon whom all love's labors are lost," replied Hagenbach composedly. "But–now to the errand that brought me here. You know my nephew, who has been three weeks at Odensburg?"
"Yes, indeed, your brother's son. The young man has no longer any parents?"
"No, he is a double orphan, and I am his guardian, having, indeed, to charge myself entirely with his future, for his parents were so unmindful of their duty as not to leave him a single penny. They thought very likely that I, as a confirmed old bachelor, might need an heir."
Leona's countenance plainly betrayed that she thought this mode of expressing himself very indelicate; the doctor saw this, too, but disturbed himself not in the least about it, but continued in the same tone:
"Dagobert has gone through the gymnasium, and also passed the examination for admission to college, with much groaning, to be sure, for he is not a specially clear-headed fellow. Now he looks wretchedly from sitting so steadily at his books and drudging. Only think, the fellow is nervous, too, or at least fancies himself to be so, therefore I have undertaken