Manuela sets her foot uncertainly onto the white staircase. Her small hand lies anxiously on the iron railing that leads from pillar to pillar. For the first time since she arrived in this house she is completely alone. In agony, She leads her free hand to her hair. Standing still, she pulls at the apron —whose strap constricts her—and tugs at the high stand-up collar that will chafe her neck. If Dad saw her like that—and Fritz—and Mother Inge . . .
The electric lamps shine sparsely. Manuela hesitates to keep moving. She no longer knows where she is, where the locker room was, where the corridor was and where the dormitory was. From the damp white walls, cold seizes her. Then she hears soft, quick footsteps coming up from below, and a clear, sweet face laughs at her.
"My name is Edelgard, and yours?"
"I'm number fifty-five."
"No, but what is your name?"
"Oh, I see!" Manuela wipes her face with her hand, as if she had to take off a veil. "Manuela." The other girl grasps her arm warmly and comradely.
"That's a beautiful name. Are you always called that?"
"No—mine—at home they always called me Lela, sometimes Lel."
Edelgard quickly leans forward and looks Manuela in the face:
"May I call you Lela also?"
Manuela is confused by so much kindness. She can't answer anything more than "Yes, please!", and she would have liked to say much more, but there's something stuck in her throat again, her throat is as blocked.
"Have you unpacked yet?"
"Yes."
"Then we have time. Sit down. It's forbidden to sit on the stairs, but we are alone here." Manuela obeys. But this yielding—she feels it immediately—was too much. She has to get out her handkerchief very quickly; the sobs can no longer be suppressed. It attacks her against her will. It grabs her and shakes her. Edelgard has her arm completely around Manuela's shoulders.
"Come on, have a good cry."
Manuela is ashamed. If only she could stop, but she can't. "Everybody cries when they arrive, Lela. There's no harm in that. No one is surprised by thisp. You don't have to be embarrassed. Cry yourself out, and then you'll feel better. And you always sleep very well when you've cried."
The sobs slowly subside. Manuela blows her nose. Edelgard's calm voice does her good.
"You know, the first few days are always horrible. But this will pass. Later, the children are no longer as curious as they were at the beginning."
Lela presses Edelgard's hand.
"Thanks, you are nice."
"It's only because I feel sorry for you."
"Oh, it will be over soon! I'm terribly weak, forgive me."
Edelgard wants to distract Manuela, "Do you know already which dormitory you're in?"
"Yes. Dormitory I, Marga says."
"Oh, look, you're lucky!"
"Why?"
"Oh, everyone wants to be there—because of Fräulein von Bernburg!"
This was the second time Manuela had heard this name. But she didn't want to ask. It was not necessarily also; because Edelgard continued on her own accord,
"Everybody loves Fräulein von Bernburg; although she is very strict. But, you know, she is so frightfully just. All the other teachers have their favourites, but Fräulein von Bernburg likes all the children equally and prefers no one. I'm curious about what you'll think of her." At that moment a bell rings and a shrill cry from the lower corridor, "Line up, line up!" Edelgard takes Lela by the hand.
"This is Kesten, come, it's prayers now. I'll show you the teachers first," and both children run down the stairs and disappear into the crowd of the other one hundred and fifty girls who stream in from all the rooms of the house at the sound of the bell. Chatting and laughter, shouting and runing back and forth. Several ladies in the same grey dress that Fräulein von Kesten is wearing are sitting on a bench against the wall. They all wear the badge of the Seminary on a blue ribbon on their bosom. They all have a white lace cap on their hair. At the second ring of the bell, the ladies stand up, and the children line up two by two along the wall. Each class has separated itself from one another. Each column differs from the other only by the colour of the cockade.
Edelgard stayed with Manuela. They join their class. Fräulein von Kesten stands next to a door, her hand on the bell, to give the third signal. But before that, she looks over the children standing in front of her. At the command "Turn!" they all turn around so that they are looking straight ahead at the door and the row of grey ladies standing in front of them. On the third signal, the door opens.
It's like at a theatre, thinks Manuela, standing trembling in the row of children. "Now Frau Headmistress comes," whispers Edelgard, holding Manuela's hand secretly. But the whisper, low as it was, is reprimanded immediately by a pinitive glance from Fräulein von Kesten.
The tall figure of an old woman appears. Heavy body, which she moves forward with the help of a stick, but thanks to an immediately perceptible tremendous willpower, she uses the support only a little. She holds a Bible in her arms. Her dress is grey, deeper grey even than the ladies'. Her lace bonnet is black, and two lace ribbons hang down the sides. The enormous shape almost fills the entire door frame. She carries her head high. Her grey little eyes fly scrutinisingly over the children sinking into a deep curtsied in front of her. Their complexion is pale, the protruding cheekbones give the face a hard expression. The chin is energetic, the mouth narrow and tightly closed. Now she hands the stick to Fräulein von Kesten and opens the Bible. The curtainless corridor carries the voice well. The voice is firm, clear, almost masculine, "In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit."
All respond with quiet "Amen."
This is followed by reading of a chapter from the New Testament.
Lela has not been able so far to tear her eyes away from those of the Headmistress. A cold shiver runs over her at the thought of what it must be like when this woman is angry. She prefers to look over at the "ladies." A little old one with a somewhat Chinese face is Mademoiselle Oeuillet, the Frenchwoman, next to her is a beautiful young creature, the Englishwoman, Miss Evans. Beside her—if Edelgard's explanations to Lela were all right—Fräulein von Gärschner. Energetic, tall, she keeps herself upright, but shouldn't be unfriendly despite her outward guardneness. Fräulein von Attems is also popular; especially since she does not teach, she only has to do something with the household.
At the far end is Fräulein von Bernburg. Lela's gaze rests firmly on this face. Fräulein von Bernburg looks obliquely at the floor in front of her. Her eyes seem half closed. Her strong, beautifully arched eyebrows are slightly raised. Her broad mouth, full of character, has something haughty about it at this moment. Her slightly curved aquiline nose also appears to be a little bloated; one has the feeling that her lower and upper jaws are pressed tightly together; because the chewing muscles stand out under the fine skin of her lean face. The forehead is narrow and high. The temples sunken. The ears are firmly in place. The chin is not soft. There is something immutable about this face. Black hair is parted severely. The knot, deep in the neck, fits the noble shape of the head well. The neck is narrow. Strong muscles that support it disappear into the well-fitting high collar. The shoulders are broad, the hands are shapely. Long, narrow, somewhat bony hands are without jewelry.
"We'll now sing the hymn: "So take my hand . . ."
The changed tone of voice of the Headmistress wakes Manuela from her contemplation. At first quietly and timidly, then more and more confidently, the chorale resounds, which Manuela tries to sing along from the hymn book held out to her.
"So take my hand
And lead me
To my blessed end
And forever.
I don't want to go alone,
Not a step.
Where Thou shalt walk and stand,
Take me there with Thee!"
Manuela's voice begins to quiver. She can't go any further; her lips can form only single syllables. Involuntarily, her gaze drifts back over to the face of Fräulein von Bernburg, who has now raised her eyes and seems to be looking far beyond the children, and the corridor, and the house.
"Wrap in Thy mercy
My weak heart
And make it completely still
In joy and pain.
Let Thy poor child
To rest at Thy feet,
Who will close eyes
And believe blindly,"
sing the bright thoughtless children's voices. It echoes beautifully in the room. They like to sing, and they don't care what they sing. The letters of the last verses tremble before Manuela's gaze. Her mouth has closed. The sobs of earlier now come over her with a terrible force.
"Even though I feel nothing
Of Thy power,
Thou lead me to my goal,
Even through the night.
So take my hand
And lead me
To my blessed end
And forever."
The hymn fades away. Frau Headmistress closes the Bible and folds her hands, saying in a low voice, "We'll pray now."
All join, and say the Lord's prayer with bowed heads.
"Our Father, who art in heaven . . ."
Everybody raises their heads as the Frau Headmistress says the benediction,
"The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ and the love of God and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all. Amen."
"Amen," it echoes in response. Frau Headmistress hands Fräulein von Kesten the Bible and takes back her cane with the silver crooked top. As if she were now a different being, her voice changes, her face reddens, her eyes widen. The words cut the air sharply,
"I have a few comments to make."
Her gaze pierces each of the children standing in front of her. "It has come to my attention that all kinds of disobedience are happening again. Prohibitions are being disregarded. It has happened that letters have been sent without being submitted for review first. Of course, these letters contain unfounded complaints about our institution. I have instructed my servants to report any violation of this rule to me. Anyone guilty of such disobedience will be punished severely. In the distinctive dress, the person concerned will have to walk the streets of the city. Remember that! The new pupil, Fräulein von Kesten?" An impatient movement of the hand holding the stick dismisses the children. A shy curtsy and the corridor quickly empties. Manuela stops in front of Frau Headmistress with Fräulein von Kesten.
"Manuela von Meinhardis," says the Headmistress, holding out her bony hand to Manuela. Manuela collapses into a alarmed curtsy, not understanding Fräulein von Kesten's look that means to kiss that hand. "Well, I hope you will quickly fit in, my child. You have just heard that violations of the house rules will be severely punished. You will notice for yourself that children who behave well have nothing to complain about here. Report to me regularly, Fräulein von Kesten."
"Very well, Frau Headmistress," replies Fräulein von Kesten meaningfully. She understands the caveat perfectly. This little Meinhardis is not an easy case. But Frau Headmistress will be satisfied. This is in the tone of her words and in the gesture of her hands folded reverently in front of her bosom.