When I whispered these words I expected a gentle pressure from
Gretchen's fingers, which rested lightly on my arm. But there was no
sign, and I grew troubled. The blue-green eyes sparkled, and the white
teeth shone between the red lips. Yet something was lacking.
"Let us go into the conservatory," she said. "It was merely a ruse of
mine. I want no supper. I have much to say to you."
Altogether, I had dreamed of a different reception. When I entered the
doorway, and she first saw me, it was Gretchen; but now it was
distinctly a Princess, a woman of the world, full of those devices
which humble and confuse us men.
Somehow we selected, by mutual accord, a seat among the roses. There
was a small fountain, and the waters sang in a murmurous music. It
seemed too early for words, so we drew our thoughts from the marble and
the water. As for me, I looked at, but did not see, the fountain. It
was another scene. There was a garden, in which the roses grew in
beautiful disorder. The sunbeams straggled through the chestnuts.
Near by a wide river moved slowly, and with a certain majesty. There
was a man and a woman in the garden. She was culling roses, while the
man looked on with admiring eyes.
"Yes," said the Princess, "all that was a pretty dream. Gretchen was a
fairy; and now she has gone from your life and mine--forever. My dear
friend, it is a prosaic age we live in. Sometimes we forget and dream;
but dreams are unreal. Perhaps a flash of it comes back in after days,
that is all; and we remember that it was a dream, and nothing more. It
is true that God designs us, but the world molds us and fate puts on
the finishing touches." She was smiling into my wonder-struck face.
"We all have duties to perform while passing. Some of us are born with
destinies mapped out by human hands; some of us are free to make life
what we will. I am of the first order, and you are of the second. It
is as impossible to join the one with the other as it is to make
diamonds out of charcoal and water. Between Gretchen and the Princess
Hildegarde of Hohenphalia there is as much difference as there is
between--what simile shall I use?--the possible and the impossible?"
"Gretchen--" I began.
"Gretchen?" The Princess laughed amusedly. "She is flown. I beg you
not to waste a thought on her memory."