A Legacy (24 page)

A week later Caroline arrived. She was met by Jules and Clara. "I am very glad to see you," Clara said in a tone that held no regard for a station platform. Caroline lunched with the Feldens and Count Bernin at the Wil-helmstrasse. Clara apologized for their not being alone— she was merely her brother's housekeeper. The guests, three or four men one of whom Caroline knew in London, seemed to have no apparent connection with each other. She sat between Bernin and an old boy determined to talk compliments to her in English. Bernin was extremely agreeable, conveyed an easy welcome, seemed to know exactly who she was and did not ask a single question about England. It could have been anywhere in the world; except in a private house. She saw Bernin keeping a light hand on the table, saw Clara taking no notice of anything, yet being part of it all the same by providing the note of detachment; she saw Jules and Gustavus sitting side by side at the other end, and saw the kind of likeness that is
always disconcerting. The food was almost ostentatiously perfunctory and, if it was not, appeared skimpy. Caroline, used to this kind of occasion, was now indifferent to her own relation with it, or effect; she, too, was quite detached; the spring to seize, connect, relate, had become slack, and she received the scene before her, the room, the lives, the people, not shaped in terms of judgement or analysis, Thackeray or Trollope, but as an integral and direct impression of something composed of several levels—smoothness lying over painstaking elaboration, an order covering and engendering chaotic agitation and beyond it nothing. The impression was without words or thought and it was as solid as a cannon ball, and it was extraordinarily disagreeable. She turned to Jules, and he was outside; from him there came immobility, not stillness, the immobility of someone asleep and yet at bay. It lasted but a flash. Clara addressed her and she was pulled back by personal antipathy, yet a sense of malaise persisted. After luncheon Bernin took her to see his office. There he asked her to remind Frau Merz that he was sending out a secretary to settle details of the seating at the ceremony and the nuptial mass. He was afraid there had to be some slight alterations in the music. "Of course you don't know St.-Hedwig's? It's not Chartres. Though you will find it large. I advise you to have a look at it. Tomorrow morning? Eleven?" He made a note. "Someone will expect you in the main sacristy; east entrance." Then he mentioned her uncle.

Something made her say, "Only by marriage, you know. He married my mother's sister."

"But he is coming over?"

"Oh yes," she said.

"I always read his speeches."

"I heard oner

"I wonder whether he realizes that fundamentally he and I are of the same party?"

"You have so many. . . ."

"The Centre is the actual liberal party."

"I thought there was a Liberal Party."

"There is a party of that name."

"We haven't got the room," she said, "members would have to stand in the middle of the floor."

"The Reichstag is more accommodating," said Count Bernin. "Do you think there is any chance now of Jules's wanting to come back to us?"

"To you?"

"The Foreign Office."

"Did you find him so suitable?"

"That was a long time ago. I never had anything to do with him then." He added, "You must be aware that you could make any man's career?"

"I'm not so sure that I hold with careers," she said, "though this is hardly the place to say it."

"There are careers," said Count Bernin, "and there is service. This place has seen both. Jules nearly did come back once. He was a bit at a loose end at the time; we got him a secretaryship in Paris, the very thing he'd like one would have thought, he seemed rather pleased, then he turned it down. You know why? It had occurred to him that he would be representing Germany in France, and he said he couldn't do that. Not Germany, not in France. He has strange ideas about Germany."

"I'm afraid he's not unique."

"I believe Jules really hates it. He asked whether he might not be given another country to represent. Like a commercial agency."

"Did Jules really do that?"

"He's an obstinate fellow. Not that there isn't something in that notion of his. One does one's job where one happens to be placed, one does one's best for the firm, but the firm itself is subordinate to the general economy. I changed firms. Like my father I began by representing the corner of the earth I was born in, Baden; later it was Germany. But whether Germany or France or Montenegro, the true

statesman is a steward entrusted with the welfare of the larger whole."

"Has this ever been a working concept in international politics?"

"There is a leaven. In many quarters. Among men in all kinds of positions. We are all placed to serve the greater end."

"Abolition of armies and navies?"

"That may well be one of the aspects."

"Social justice?"

"Helping the poor is always a rich man's duty," said Count Bernin.

"When there are no more poor?"

"Are you not putting the cart before the horse?"

"You have not told me: what is your horse?"

"Spiritual unity, without which there can exist no other. Re-establishment of our Faith. The old Faith, to which you have just returned. I regard it as a happy omen."

"Count Bernin," said Caroline, "are you quite mad?"

He smiled. "I said re-establishment—there are times when one can only go forward. I do not expect the English people as a whole to return to the Church of Rome. Yet the Church of Rome might well receive the Church of England. There is nothing inherently impossible in the conception of a Universal and United Catholic Church, a Trinity of the Roman, the Greek and the Anglican Branches, each one, each whole, each equal. With certain adjustments. The Anglican Branch might be expected to unify her liturgy— On the other hand, one need not necessarily envisage Disestablishment—"

"Romanism without popery?"

"In the sense interpreted in your country."

"And the Pope?"

"That would depend. As you know the Sovereign Pontiff is not born but made."

"Tell me—is all this quite orthodox?"

"It is not for us to say. In the event, a Council might pronounce."

"Is that the way you talk to Cardinals? You know you have shocked me."

"I hope not. Do not allow yourself to be," said Count Bernin. "All vast dreams are shocking. To small people. I do not look at you as small."

Then Gustavus came in and led her back to another room where she found Clara standing by herself who said, "You will let me help you?"

Later, Jules took her to call at Voss Strasse.

"She's very pretty," said Grandmama.

"Reminds me of Fraulein zu der Hasenheyde," said her husband.

"Please can I be your bridesmaid?" said Henrietta.

"Oh I must congratulate you," said Grandmama.

"We must congratulate ourselves, ma'am."

"You have nice jewels, my dear. I must give you some more."

"Aunt Sarah said I was to ask you."

"Too good for Jules," Markwald said to Emil.

"Too good."

"I hope you will let me show you something of the town?" said Friedrich.

"I can see to that, my boy," said his father.

"I'm going to have a new dress," said Henrietta.

"Have you decided where you will settle after your honeymoon?" said Friedrich.

"You haven't got a home?" said Markwald.

"You need never fear to remain without one," said Emil.

"That's Papa's ring," said Henrietta, "I know what the stone's called. Did he give it to you?"

"A habit," muttered Emil.

"I hope you are getting enough to eat at Sarah's," said Grandmama.

She visited the Schloss with Gustavus and saw the Law Courts and Panopticum with Friedrich Merz. Sarah said,

"Wouldn't you like to see the gallery at the Museum? It's really quite first-rate."

"I don't think I will," said Caroline.

She took Henrietta out to a bun shop. Clara called to have another talk. Sarah felt she could do no less then ask Jeanne for tea.

Henrietta said, "You will be my mama?" and Caroline answered, "Don't you think it's a little late in the day?" To Clara on her second visit she said, "Why do you want to know? I don't believe you're in the least interested in me."

"I am interested in every Christian soul," said Clara.

Before she left she took Caroline's hand and said, "We do so hope you will let your first child be born at Sig-mundshofen."

After Jeanne had been to tea, she said to Sarah, "You must forgive my prying and prattling the other day. I did not realize."

To Caroline, Sarah said, "You did not like her?"

"Why?"

"If you did, you didn't show it. She's a nice woman."

"What's the good of my meeting nice people now?" said Caroline.

Friedrich, taking her down the Linden, said, "Sarah's been making a great mistake if you ask me, bringing up her girls abroad, never letting them near their grandparents. Out of sight, out of mind you know. No wonder they're only interested in Jules's girl now. Pity she's so plain. Well, I suppose it doesn't matter half so much in an heiress."

"She's not plain in the least," said Caroline.

"Her young stepmama can afford to be magnanimous," said Friedrich.

"Jules and Edu are off to Melba tonight," Sarah said; "I didn't think you wanted to go. Should I ask someone in, or shall we be just by ourselves?"

"As you like," said Caroline.

Later on, breaking the silence, she said, "What do the Germans make of Bernin?"

"He has no following," said Sarah, "everybody mistrusts him."

"Such a good reason for being in office."

"He's considered a man alone, he's a recognized universal lesser evil. The Socialists have been using him for some of their reforms but they loathe his guts, and they'd like to break him; to the Herren-Club Conservatives he's a sort of Utopian radical they push forward when they want to look broad-minded. He's a great embarrassment to his own party, and of course the Kaiser eats out of his hand."

"People in England say he'll be Chancellor."

"It's quite possible. Unless something stops him. My people regard him as a menace; he'd be a disaster financially, he'd spend simply everything he'd lay hands on. He has no interest whatsoever in capital development, and he's much too high-handed."

"The Roman mission . . ."

"Oh, that's more of a private hobby," said Sarah.

"Jules's families. Did you know there is also a loony brother?"

"I meant to talk to you about that," said Sarah. "He'd be so much better off in a home. Who told you?"

"Clara. That woman has no small talk. It is rather a joke or isn't it? One's brother-in-law who's a German officer and an uncertified lunatic."

"A typical piece of Bernin folly," said Sarah.

On her third day Caroline tried to go for a walk by herself in the town. It was an April afternoon, turning twilight, with the street lamps being lit and the shops still open. For some time she walked rapidly, her face unguarded, moving to the momentum of her thought, finding herself unseeing a path along the pavements. Gradually she became sensible of an undercurrent of intrusion, a brush of whispers, glances, of steps according to her own.

" Gnddiges Frdulein —"

"Du schones Kind, wohin — V

A white tunic shone before her, a braided arm grazed her dress. At a corner two hatless women laughed. Near her the tip of a sword struck stone.

She moved on, as one moves through a jungle in a dream.

A boy whistled in her face; a couple of youths tried to bar her way; an eye-glass caught the light; coming to under a waxing insolence of stares, she checked her pace. At once they were upon her with more gross obtrusions.

"Gnddigste gestattenl Gnddigste —"

She cast about her. She did not know where she was. She tried to stop a cab. It was not a cab. She saw a woman with a net bulging leeks and cabbages, and turned to her. She tried for some German, "Ich bin verloren."

The woman slowly bared her mouth, guffawed.

Caroline turned away.

When at last there was a cab, a man tried to get in with her. They were under a lamp and she was able to see his face: a youngish face, pasty, with a fair moustache, above too high a collar. Panic ebbed, and she found herself held up by rage. "I've never seen such manners," she said in English. The man fell back. She pulled the door. She tried to give the name of Sarah's suburb; the driver did not seem to understand her. Then he refused to go. They were still under the same lamp.

"Voss Strasse 9," she said.

"Frau Geheimrat is resting," Gottlieb said, "but Herr Baron has just come in."

The house was very warm; filled with an opaque quietness through which the gas jets hissed.

"Don't bother to tell anyone," she said; "I only want you to get on to Frau Edu's chauffeur for me. I shall wait here." She sat down.

"We shall have him at the door in twenty minutes," said

Gottlieb. "Meanwhile, may I suggest some slight refreshment?"

"I could do with a nip of brandy," she said.

"It will be a pleasure."

"I do believe you are the kindest person in this town," said Caroline.

At Sarah's, she found Jeanne. The two were unpacking presents.

"It was so good of you to send me a card."

"Not at all," said Caroline.

"I'm sure you're going to look ravishing. Who did your dress?"

Sarah did not look up.

"It isn't ready," said Caroline.

"They never are," said Jeanne.

The next day was a Sunday and she was lunching with Jules. "For God's sake can't we go somewhere quiet?"

"There is a place. If you don't mind going to a private room?"

"I don't mind."

They came in by a street entrance.

It was a very small room and the furnishings were fake French. Oysters, brown bread and butter and Chablis were already on the table.

"Where are the waiters?" said Caroline.

"The waiters only come when you ring the bell."

They sat down on the banquette.

"It's Edu's favorite restaurant," said Jules.