Soon after that the party got up to leave the hall, and as they went out they encountered Herr Crippel.
“You have gone beyond yourself tonight,” said Marie, “and we wish you joy.”
“Oh, no. It was pretty good, was it? With the zither it depends mostly on the atmosphere; whether it is hot, or cold, or wet, or dry, or on I knew not what. It is an accident if one plays well. Good night to you. Good night, Lotta. Good night, Sir.” And he took off his hat, and bowed—bowed, as it were, expressly to Fritz Planken.
“Herr Crippel,” said Lotta, “one word with you.” And she dropped behind from Fritz, and returned to the musician. “Herr Crippel, will you meet me at Sperl’s tomorrow night?”
“At Sperl’s? No. I do not go to Sperl’s any longer, Lotta. You told me that Marie’s friend was coming tonight, but you did not tell me of your own.”
“Never mind what I told you, or did not tell you. Herr Crippel, will you come to Sperl’s tomorrow?”
“No; you would not dance with me, and I should not care to see you dance with anyone else.”
“But I will dance with you.”
“And Planken will be there?”
“Yes, Fritz will be there. He is always there; I cannot help that.”
“No, Lotta; I will not go to Sperl’s. I will tell you a little secret. At forty-five one is too old for Sperl’s.”
“There are men there every Sunday over fifty—over sixty, I am sure.”
“They are men different in their ways of life from me, my dear. No, I will not go to Sperl’s. When will you come and see my mother?”
Lotta promised that she would go and see the Frau Crippel before long, and then tripped off and joined her party.
Stobel and Marie had walked on, while Fritz remained a little behind for Lotta.
“Did you ask him to come to Sperl’s tomorrow?” he said.
“To be sure I did.”
“Was that nice of you, Lotta?”
“Why not nice? Nice or not, I did it. Why should not I ask him, if I please?”
“Because I thought I was to have the pleasure of entertaining you; that it was a little party of my own.”
“Very well, Herr Planken,” said Lotta, drawing herself a little away from him; “if a friend of mine is not welcome at your little party, I certainly shall not join it myself.”
“But, Lotta, does not everyone know what it is that Crippel wishes of you?”
“There is no harm in his wishing. My friends tell me that I am very foolish not to give him what he wishes. But I still have the chance.”
“Oh yes, no doubt you still have the chance.”
“Herr Crippel is a very good man. He is the best son in the world, and he makes two hundred florins a month.”
“Oh, if that is to count!”
“Of course it is to count. Why should it not count? Would the Princess Theresa have married the other day if the young prince had had no income to support her?”
“You can do as you please, Lotta.”
“Yes, I can do as I please, certainly. I suppose Adela Bruhl will be at Sperl’s tomorrow?”
“I should say so, certainly. I hardly ever knew her to miss her Sunday evening.”
“Nor I. I, too, am fond of dancing—very. I delight in dancing. But I am not a slave to Sperl’s, and then I do not care to dance with everyone.”
“Adela Bruhl dances very well,” said Fritz.
“That is as one may think. She ought to; for she begins at ten, and goes on till two, always. If there is no one nice for dancing she puts up with someone that is not nice. But all that is nothing to me.”
“Nothing, I should say, Lotta.”
“Nothing in the world. But this is something; last Sunday you danced three times with Adela.”
“Did I? I did not count.”
“I counted. It is my business to watch those things, if you are to be ever anything to me, Fritz. I will not pretend that I am indifferent. I am not indifferent. I care very much about it. Fritz, if you dance tomorrow with Adela you will not dance with me again—either then or ever.” And having uttered this threat she ran on and found Marie, who had just reached the door of the house in which they both lived.
Fritz, as he walked home by himself, was in doubt as to the course which it would be his duty as a man to pursue in reference to the lady whom he loved. He had distinctly heard that lady ask an old admirer of hers to go to Sperl’s and dance with her; and yet, within ten minutes afterwards, she had peremptorily commanded him not to dance with another girl! Now, Fritz Planken had a very good opinion of himself, as he was well entitled to have, and was quite aware that other pretty girls besides Lotta Schmidt were within his reach. He did not receive two hundred florins a month, as did Herr Crippel, but then he was five-and-twenty instead of five-and-forty; and, in the matter of money, too, he was doing pretty well. He did love Lotta Schmidt. It would not be easy for him to part with her. But she, too, loved him, as he told himself, and she would hardly push matters to extremities. At any rate, he would not submit to a threat. He would dance with Adela Bruhl, at Sperl’s. He thought, at least, that when the time should come he would find it well to dance with her.
Sperl’s dancing saloon, in the Tabor Strasse, is a great institution at Vienna. It is open always of a Sunday evening, and dancing there commences at ten, and is continued till two or three o’clock in the morning. There are two large rooms, in one of which the dancers dance, and in the other the dancers and visitors who do not dance, eat, and drink, and smoke continually. But the most wonderful part of Sperl’s establishment is this, that there is
