PAGE 6
The House of Heine Brothers
by
On that night, before he went to bed, he did speak to her father; and Isa also, before she went to rest, spoke to her mother. It was singular to him that there should appear to be so little privacy on the subject; that there should be held to be so little necessity for a secret. Had he made a suggestion that an extra room should be allotted to him at so much per annum, the proposition could not have been discussed with simpler ease. At last, after a three days’ debate, the matter ended thus,–with by no means a sufficiency of romance for his taste. Isa had agreed to become his betrothed if certain pecuniary conditions should or could be fulfilled. It appeared now that Herbert’s father had promised that some small modicum of capital should be forthcoming after a term of years, and that Heine Brothers had agreed that the Englishman should have a proportionate share in the bank when that promise should be brought to bear. Let it not be supposed that Herbert would thus become a millionaire. If all went well, the best would be that some three hundred a year would accrue to him from the bank, instead of the quarter of that income which he at present received. But three hundred a year goes a long way at Munich, and Isa’s parents were willing that she should be Herbert’s wife if such an income should be forthcoming.
But even of this there was much doubt. Application to Herbert’s father could not be judiciously made for some months. The earliest period at which, in accordance with old Hatto Heine’s agreement, young Onslow might be admitted to the bank, was still distant by four years; and the present moment was thought to be inopportune for applying to him for any act of grace. Let them wait, said papa and mamma Heine,–at any rate till New Year’s Day, then ten months distant. Isa quietly said that she would wait till New Year’s Day. Herbert fretted, fumed, and declared that he was ill-treated. But in the end he also agreed to wait. What else could he do?
“But we shall see each other daily, and be close to each other,” he said to Isa, looking tenderly into her eyes. “Yes,” she replied, “we shall see each other daily–of course. But, Herbert–“
Herbert looked up at her and paused for her to go on.
“I have promised mamma that there shall be no change between us,–in our manner to each other, I mean. We are not betrothed as yet, you know, and perhaps we may never be so.”
“Isa!”
“It may not be possible, you know. And therefore we will go on as before. Of course we shall see each other, and of course we shall be friends.”
Herbert Onslow again fretted and again fumed, but he did not have his way. He had looked forward to the ecstasies of a lover’s life, but very few of those ecstasies were awarded to him. He rarely found himself alone with Isa, and when he did do so, her coldness overawed him. He could dare to scold her and sometimes did do so, but he could not dare to take the slightest liberty. Once, on that night when the qualified consent of papa and mamma Heine had first been given, he had been allowed to touch her lips with his own; but since that day there had been for him no such delight as that. She would not even allow her hand to remain in his. When they all passed their evenings together in the beer-garden, she would studiously manage that his chair should not be close to her own. Occasionally she would walk with him, but not more frequently now than of yore. Very few, indeed, of a lover’s privileges did he enjoy. And in this way the long year wore itself out, and Isa Heine was one-and-twenty.