Page:The Czechoslovak Review, vol4, 1920.pdf/45



The brightly illuminated hall and the cheerful music were pleasantly inviting. The philosophers took great care to prepare delightful entertainment. When Lenka was ascending the stairs, her heart trembled in fear and expectation, and a slight tremor shook her when the music started. For the first time she was in such a large company.

Conscious of her all-conquering charms, Lotty stepped boldly into the room, graciously receiving the bows of the students. Her sparkling eye quickly looked over the whole room. Only there at the side-door, where a tall, handsome young man stood,, [sic]her glance lingered a little longer.

She saw, how coolly and without emotion Vavřena looked at her, how calmly he turned his head away—but now—he stirred, his eye lightened, and his composure was gone. Oh, what blindness! She expected something different from that cold, indifferent glance! And yet he flared up, but for another!

On Lenka the philosopher fixed his gaze, joyfully surprised, happy. He did not expect her, did not know that she was coming. And as soon as the old priest’s ward saw the joy in his face, all fear and depression left her, and in her innermost heart she exulted. Moreover, when he later came and asked her for a dance, when he bore her away in his arms around the brilliantly illumined hall to the sound of the gay music, when she heard his ardent, sincere words which he whispered to her during the dance—her head went dizzy with happiness.

When, during the intermission, a promenade over the hall was going on, Lottynka was hemmed in all sides. Only he whom she expected with certainty acted as if he did mot see her. She waited, but in vain. She saw how he danced with her cousin, how vivaciously and intimately he spoke with her, and the proud Lottynka was again dissatisfied and peevish. Also, of course, her mother’s eyes angrily and coldly followed the happy couple.

But Lenka and Vavřena ignored these glances and the clouded, sneering faces; they enjoyed in full measure the few blissful moments that were permitted them. Frýbort also gave his undivided attention to the radiantly happy Márinka.

“If Miss Elis could see us!” whispered Lenka.

“She would bless us.”

At about eleven o’clock, a mighty flourish sounded from the little gallery, occupied by the band. Count George, with his radiant sister, honored the philosophical ball by his presence. In a little while after this interruption, everything went on as before.

Midnight came, and Vavřena had not come to bow to Lottynka, and most probably would not come. She had not conquered. She returned to her mother, her white forehead shaded with displeasure.

“Bedenke nur, wie er nur ungalant ist!” (Just think how discourteous he is!), she complained. But just then she received full compensation. The count, walking about the hall, stopped before Mrs. Roubínek and her daughter, to whom he addressed a few complimentary words. Mrs. Roubínek was transported into bliss. When he left, and she was hurrying to the next room to inform her husband of the incident, she looked contemptuously on Vavřena and Lenka whom she passed. Who can equal her girl? What is he, that student from the peasantry? No wonder the vulgar seek vulgar! Mrs. Roubínek did not forget to inform her acquaintances what courtesy the count had shown them, and in the twinkling of an eye it spread that he had pronounced Lottynka to be the queen of the ball.

It went worst with the registrar Roubínek. He was not a heavy drinker, could not play cards here, and there was no king Herod on the wall on whom he could fasten his eyes. He was in the habit of going to bed early, and now to stay up here all night! He yawned, and longed for his “oberst”, his night cap, and the soft bed. Only the fact, that his gracious lordship condescended to speak kindly with his wife consoled him.

Day was dawning, when the party broke up. Frýbort was escorting the landlady with Márinka, and Vavřena went with them. Mr. Roubínek’s family also walked now. Snow was falling and settled gently on the shawls and the wraps of the women. Although all were tired, they still spoke much of the honor done them by the count. Only Lenka was silent; in her thoughts, however, she felt as though she were in the flower filled spring time; in her snug room all was peace and happiness.

She thought of Vavřena’s words, of the sacred promise he made her in the ornamental chamber of the hall, where for a while they sat alone.

“Let us wait, dear Lenka! I will not leave you, nor betray you!” he vowed to her, and she believed him as the gospel.