Part 18

"Oh, one keeps one's ears open...."

"Come, come!" said Ditlinde. "Don't let's worry about that. Here you are talking about ordinary things, and I had two topics noted down which I thought we might discuss this afternoon.... Would you be so kind, Klaus Heinrich, as to reach me that notebook there in blue leather on the writing-table? Many thanks. I note down in this everything I have to remember, both household matters and other things. What a blessing it is to be able to see everything down in black and white! My head is terribly weak, it can't remember things, and if I weren't tidy and didn't jot everything down, I should be done for. First of all, Albrecht, before I forget it, I wanted to remind you that you must escort Aunt Catherine at the first Court on November 1st--you can't get out of it. I withdraw; the honour fell to me at the last Court Ball, and Aunt Catherine was terribly put out.... Do you consent? Good, then I cross out item 1. Secondly, Klaus Heinrich, I wanted to ask you to make a short appearance at the Orphan Children's Bazaar on the 15th in the Town Hall. I am patroness, and I take my duties seriously, as you see. You needn't buy anything--a pocket comb.... In short, all you need do is to show yourself for ten minutes. It's for the orphans.... Will you come? You see, now I can cross another off. Thirdly ..."

But the Princess was interrupted. Fräulein von Isenschnibbe, the Court lady, was announced and tripped in at once through the big drawing-room, her feather boa waving in the draught, and the brim of her huge feather hat flapping up and down. The smell of the fresh air from outside seemed to cling to her clothes. She was small, very fair, with a pointed nose, and so short-sighted that she could not see the stars. On clear evenings she would stand on her balcony and gaze at the starry heavens through opera-glasses, and rave about them. She wore two strong pairs of glasses, one behind the other, and screwed up her eyes and stuck her head forward as she curtseyed.

"Heavens, Grand Ducal Highness," she said, "I didn't know; I'm disturbing you, I'm intruding. I most humbly beg pardon!"

The brothers had risen, and the visitor, as she curtseyed to them, was filled with confusion. As Albrecht extended his hand from his chest, keeping his forearm close to his body, her arm was stretched out almost perpendicularly, when the curtsey which she made him had reached its lowest point.

"Dear Jettchen," said Ditlinde, "what nonsense! You are expected and welcome, and my brothers know that we call each other by our Christian names, so none of that Grand Ducal Highness, if you please. We are not in the Old Schloss. Sit down and make yourself comfortable. Will you have some tea? It's still hot, and here are some candied fruits, I know you like them."

"Yes, a thousand thanks, Ditlinde, I adore them!" And Fräulein von Isenschnibbe took a chair on the narrow side of the tea-table opposite Klaus Heinrich, with her back to the window, drew a glove off and began peering forward, to lay sweetmeats on her plate with the silver tongs. Her little bosom heaved quickly and nervously with pleasurable excitement.

"I've got some news," she said, unable any longer to contain herself. "News.... More than any reticule will hold! That is to say it is really only one piece of news, only one--but it's so weighty that it counts for dozens, and it is quite certain, I have it on the best authority--you know that I am reliable, Ditlinde; this very evening it will be in the Courier and to-morrow the whole town will be talking about it."

"Yes, Jettchen," said the Princess, "it must be confessed you never come with empty hands; but now we're excited, do tell us your news."

"Very well. Let me get my breath. Do you know, Ditlinde, does your Royal Highness know, does your Grand Ducal Highness know who's coming, who is coming to the spa, who is coming for six or eight weeks to the Spa Hotel to drink the waters?"

"No," said Ditlinde, "but do you know, dear Jettchen?"

"Spoelmann," said Fräulein von Isenschnibbe. "Spoelmann," she said, leaned back and made as if to draw with her fingers on the table-edge, but checked the movement of her hand just over the blue silk border.

The brothers and sister looked doubtfully at each other.

"Spoelmann?" asked Ditlinde.... "Think a moment, Jettchen, the real Spoelmann?"

"The real one!" Her voice cracked with suppressed jubilation. "The real one, Ditlinde! For there's only one, or rather only one whom everybody knows, and he it is whom they are expecting at the Spa Hotel--the great Spoelmann, the giant Spoelmann, the colossus Samuel N. Spoelmann from America!"

"But, child, what's bringing him here?"

"Really, forgive me for saying so, Ditlinde, but what a question! His yacht or some big steamer is bringing him over the sea of course, he's on his holidays making a tour of Europe and has expressed his intention of drinking the Spa waters."

"But is he ill, then?"

"Of course, Ditlinde; all people of his kind are ill, that's part of the business."

"Strange," said Klaus Heinrich.

"Yes, Grand Ducal Highness, it is remarkable. His kind of existence must bring that with it. For there's no doubt it's a trying existence, and not at all a comfortable one, and must wear the body out quicker than an ordinary man's life would. Most suffer in the stomach, but Spoelmann suffers from stone as everybody knows."

"Stone, does he?"

"Of course, Ditlinde, you must have heard it and forgotten it. He has stone in the kidneys, if you will forgive me the horrid expression--a serious, trying illness, and I'm sure he can't get the slightest pleasure from his frantic wealth."

"But how in the world has he pitched upon our waters?"

"Why, Ditlinde, that's simple. The waters are good, they're excellent; especially the Ditlinde spring, with its lithium or whatever they call it, is admirable against gout and stone, and only waiting to be properly known and valued throughout the world. But a man like Spoelmann, you can imagine, a man like that is above names and trade-puffs, and follows his own kind. And so he has discovered our waters--or his physician has recommended them to him, it may be that, and bought it in the bottle, and it has done him good, and now he may think that it must do him still more good if he drinks it on the spot."

They all kept silence.

"Great heavens, Albrecht," said Ditlinde at last, "whatever one thinks of Spoelmann and his kind--and I'm not going to commit myself to an opinion, of that you may be sure--but don't you think that the man's visit to the Spa may be very useful?"

The Grand Duke turned his head with his stiff and refined smile.