“May I come in, Mrs. Reinhardt?”
“Please do Elsa.”
“I am sorry to disturb you, but I would feel so much better if the doctor would check on your father every so often, just to be sure that Papa Reinhardt will be all right.”
Verena and Hannes looked at each other.
“Are you thinking what I am thinking?”
“I suspect I am,” Verena smirked slightly.
“Thank you for your concern, Elsa. My husband and I had no desire to go anywhere tonight, but as we all know, Papa often uses a certain power of persuasion and gave us no choice in the matter. It just means so much to him to know that at least we are going to be at the ball. Don't believe for a moment that we would even think of deserting him!”
“Oh no, Madame!” she said apologetically. “As a matter of fact, he even constantly urged me to attend tonight’s ball given by the police department, and said I should plan to get dressed and be ready to leave as soon as you were gone.”
“I'm not surprised...that devious rascal!” Verena exclaimed. “We shall have the last laugh after all, beating him at his own little game. Not a word to anyone, Elsa, but after our goodnight hugs, we'll take a little detour through the house and shall be right here in this room whenever you should need us.”
“Philip will attend the ball by himself this time,” added Hannes. “Then at least one of the Reinhardts will be there, and Papa will not be as angry when he finds out that we didn't obey his orders.”
All three smiled, agreeing on their little scheme.
“Remember, Elsa, not a word.”
“I am so relieved to know you'll be here.”
Papa was smiling in satisfaction when Verena, Hannes, and Philip came in to say goodnight and to inquire if he was well enough for them to leave him in the care of Elsa.
“I am so much better. You really shouldn't worry about me,” he assured them, believing still that, once more, he had gotten his way.
Verena, Hannes, and Philip had dressed very carefully, with only Philip actually having a real purpose in doing so. But Verena and Hannes were quite happy, knowing that they had finally found a way to outwit Papa.
Philip Reinhardt, dark hair, tall, and extremely handsome in his impeccably elegant black velvet and silk attire was ready to go anytime and anywhere, sure to have succeeded in getting his way also. Thus, all four Reinhardts were quite happy with their lot and, on a night like this, it was all that really mattered.
As soon as Philip Reinhardt was seated in his carriage, he felt a heavy load lift off his shoulders and started to relax. As much as he hated to admit it, he was delighted to go along with his parents’ little scheme tonight. Staying at home on any other occasion would never have bothered him in the least. The ball itself held not nearly the significance as he had made his grandfather believe tonight. His preferences tended more towards smaller and more intimate places, even though he had never seen these grand occasions as a burden, but rather a test of endurance as his father had once confided to him when complaining of having to greet the same people and facing the same conversations year after year. “Thank God that at least their robes are different!” his father had added. Nevertheless, the Reinhardts joined the same faces with their same conversations in new and different robes, because the opera ball was, after all, the best place to go at this time of the year.
When Philip finally made his entrance, the ballet performance had just ended and the party was already in full progress with happily laughing participants all around him. The orchestra was playing Strauss' Blue Danube waltz, which never failed to get old and young alike to their feet. In no hurry to dance, Philip made his way through the noisy crowd, trying to get to the loge, which was usually reserved for the Reinhardts on these nights and in which, for the first time in many years, three of the chairs around the beautifully decorated table were vacant. He suddenly felt very odd.
“Well, Philip Reinhardt, where is the rest of your party?” Louis Weber, a banker and an old friend of the family, called out to him jovially.
“All of me is here!” he laughed. “The family had to stay home. Papa Reinhardt has come down with something. He seems to be quite ill.”
“So sorry to hear that. I hope it is nothing serious.”
“Well, he assures everyone that it isn't, but my parents decided to stay home with him against his will and, of course, without him knowing. You know how he feels about these affairs!”
“Oh, yes! Just last year, he and I danced away the night. Some years in the past, even with broken bones!” Louis mused. “Well, do give him my very best wishes and I hope he will be up and about soon again.”
Philip's hopes were also for his grandfather to get well soon, but right now, he hoped it would be Louis Weber spreading the bit of information to all their acquaintances about Papa without him having to waste any time on it. With the lightheartedness and egotism of the young, his thoughts circled around the object of his admiration, beautiful Victoria Elisabeth, and the real reason for his wish to attend this ball tonight. This was his very own secret that he had not allowed himself to share with anyone.
∼
Victoria von Wintersberg's household was in a state of turmoil. A telegram had arrived from Berlin only an hour ago, stating that her brother Oscar had been injured in a duel in the Grunewald. He was said to be in critical condition and her parents were expected to visit him there in the hospital.
“Like hell we will go to Berlin! Especially not on an important day like today!” shouted the Count uncontrollably. “He is not worth the bullet that hit him, let alone his parents’ visit. The more I attend to his problems, the more he gets himself into them. There has to be a limit. There must be an end to all of this!” He pounded his fist on the dinner table and continued. “Today is as good a time as any other day to start. He has caused us so much grief already, not to speak of all the embarrassments we have had to encounter because of him!”
Lotte, his wife, and their daughter Victoria looked up somberly at him from the table, not uttering a word, listlessly poking around in their desserts. Both had learned years ago that any attempt to calm him down would only have the opposite effect. And tonight was a very meaningful night for lovely Victoria. She just had to be at the ball! She had been looking forward to seeing Philip Reinhardt so much, and had never stopped thinking about him since she met him a year before.
Count Manfred von Wintersberg considered himself, above all, a Prussian officer. As a young First Lieutenant, he had fiercely fought against the Austrians in the war of 1866, regretting only the loss of his right leg early in battle. Not that it mattered to him to have lost a leg. He had only been annoyed by the lengthy hospital stay which had prevented him from killing more of his country's enemies. He would later relate this as a personal tragedy and became very apologetic whenever an occasion of exchanging war stories arose. His natural capability as a leader and disciplinarian, as well as his loyalty towards Prussia, coupled with a suitable marriage and good connections were at that time helpful to him in securing an appointment at the Embassy in Berlin. Realizing then that he would never be able to fight on a battlefield again, he vowed to serve his fatherland as best as he could. Thus, he became a career diplomat. He perfected his French, attended a school for foreign affairs, and worked his way up to the title of Vice Consul. Ironically, this promotion catapulted him into a transfer to Vienna. If this had been a disappointment to him, it had certainly never been displayed by him as such. To him, it was another duty he had to perform, which required his presence at the German Embassy. Nothing more and nothing less. He never displayed the promotion that came with this transfer, however much he was pleased by it. “Father would have been very proud of me,” he had thought with satisfaction. To honor the Kaiser, the family name, and conduct oneself above and beyond reproach was his maxim. He had wondered then how his wife and two children would adjust. Not that it would change anything, but one has an obligation to one’s family also. Every now and
then, one should also remember to be a loving husband and father, and take into consideration their well-being. That, too, is what duty meant. After all, that is what life is all about.
“Vienna! Are you sure it's Vienna in Austria? No mistake?” his wife and daughter had cried with joy. “The most beautiful city in the world and we are going to live there!”
“My dear Victoria, Berlin has surpassed Vienna long ago!” he had admonished.
“All the beautiful museums, buildings, and romantic boulevards! The parks with their concerts. Vienna's delightful coffee houses one hears so much about! And the Ringstraβe is supposed to be more elegant than is the Champs-Elysee! And—"
“Hold on, child, and slow down!” he interrupted again. “We have hardly ever missed any concert in our beautiful parks here. As far as all your museums and buildings are concerned, young lady, just recently, I've read in a very reliable journal that Berlin is considered the cultural center of the world. People come from everywhere to learn and benefit from what is offered here! Just think of all the performances here. Vienna's Ringstraβe and Paris' Champs-Elysee compare rather poorly to our own Friedrichstraβe. Not to mention Unter den Linden! Good God, what a sight to behold!” He lit a cigar and looked triumphantly at his wife and daughter.
They both began to laugh uncontrollably. His wife finally caught her breath. “My dear Manfred! I didn't know that in addition to having a Vice Consul for a father and husband, we had an expert on touring Berlin in our midst! But I must confess to you, I've always secretly desired to see the castle of Schönbrunn. And if you say our Sans Souci surpasses it, I shall have no choice but to assure myself of it!
“We both will!” Victoria ran over to her father, spontaneously embracing him. “You have made us very, very happy, Papa! You shall never know how much!”
“I have?” At this news, Count von Wintersberg did something he very rarely did— he smiled.
∼
Count Wintersberg, his wife, and Victoria had arrived in Vienna four years previously, which also commemorated Victoria's twenty-first birthday. She called it “the best present I have ever received!” They had left Oscar, their son, in Berlin, Manfred once more enrolling him in another military academy.
As a child, Oscar von Wintersberg had never been very healthy, and had, in time, become even frailer, showing no particular interests in anything but his piano. Military games and sports were, in his opinion, team efforts for which he was too much of an individualist. His father was very much in disagreement with his son's philosophy, which was diametrically opposed to his own.
“You mold your children into what you expect them to turn out to be,” he repeatedly insisted, while his wife and daughter had to endure lengthy quarrels, more often than not ending in severe punishment for Oscar.
After several attempts to finally make a man out of Oscar had failed, enrolling him in one military academy after another, each more strict and penalizing than the one previous, father and son had become each other's most fervent enemies. This had the effect that Oscar von Wintersberg, at the age of twenty-three, had already become a bitter, cheerless, and desolate figure, fanatically obsessed with only one goal—to hurt and humiliate his father twice as much as he had been hurt by him. Oscar could not rid himself of the belief that he had continuously been persecuted by his father, and he had caused him so much grief and misery, which never left him, that he often cursed the day he had been born.
Moments before their departure to Vienna, he had embraced his mother and sister, whom he loved so dearly, without even a glance toward his father. As always, the Count was unmoved by the tearful face.
“Enjoy the fine theaters and especially Vienna's carnival season!” he had shouted, running alongside the slowly departing train. Lotte and Victoria waved sorrowfully until the tall, pathetic young man, who so often had tried in vain to be a good son, drifted out of their sight.
“You cruel bastard!” Oscar had cried bitterly. “Leaving your only son behind! I shall make you suffer for this as long as there is a breath of life in me!” It was a promise that Oscar von Wintersberg would fulfill in the not so distant future.
∼
“Telegrams, hospitals, or even death beds be cursed! No matter what, we cannot and will not miss the Vienna Opera Ball tonight!” the Count stated emphatically. “The Ambassador himself asked for us to share his loge. All of us! Do you know what that means, Lotte? Honor! High Honor! Count von Steglitz would give anything for the privilege, if his family had been invited to one of the Emperor’s banquets.” The thought of being envied for this honor calmed him somewhat. Satisfied with himself, he clasped his napkin in place. “What good would it do if we leave today for Berlin? We cannot change a thing. I probably will have to pay his gambling debts again and will not even get as much as a thank you from him. I am finished with him, Lotte! Done!” Looking at Victoria he sternly added, “I hope you are not blaming your father! Are you?”
Lotte von Wintersberg tried to stay as calm as possible, attempting to avoid having Victoria put on the stand.
“This is not a question of blame, dear Manfred. God only knows, in the last four years you have done more than could be expected of any father. But this is the first time a telegram stated ‘injured severely’ and that our presence is requested, so I thought, it might be quite serious.”
“At times, duels do inflict more than only scars. Oscar has been lucky so far. But, as Mama says, it might be important,” Victoria finally uttered, feeling guilty for her selfish thoughts of possibly having to stay away from the ball tonight, rather than worrying about her brother.
“I hope it will be more than a few scrapes and scars! Do you know that your father was never involved in a duel? Never even thought of one!” he boasted, putting honey on his buttered croissant, which was his favorite dessert. “I never drank too much, neither did I chase after harlots. I always lived the life befitting a Prussian aristocrat, just as it was expected of me.”
Lotte and Victoria exchanged glances, relieved that their Viennese maid was nowhere near to hear his boasting.
He took a deep breath before continuing. “My father would have said, ‘First things first,’ and would not have missed an important affair like the one tonight.” He toasted to his wife and an immensely relieved Victoria.
“Here is to all of us! The Lord only knows, we deserve a good night out. And tomorrow we shall take the noon train to Berlin and that's final!”
Lotte and Victoria lifted their goblets. “To Oscar's health,” whispered both in unison.
“To a great night at the ball!” Manfred returned the toast.
∼
Vice Consul von Wintersberg and his family arrived at the Vienna Opera ball looking their very best, as always, putting aside their family problems and ready to take part in the grand occasion. Mother and daughter had decided to make the best of the night since they could not change matters, and had donned their most beautiful evening gowns and precious jewels, hiding only their eyes with very delicate masks of sequins, a last-minute caprice which, for obvious reasons, pleased Victoria.
“One of the greatest things about Austria, and I should say Vienna, is that they have mastered the art of being so informally formal. A first-class ballet performance, followed by the very best dancing party. I couldn't think of any other city that could possibly be able to combine it into a perfect gala affair! And all this at the State Opera!” Lotte stated, quite impressed.
“It is as confusing as everything else in Austria, including their Constitution,” retorted the Count cynically. “But then, if the Habsburgers had one, the country would probably fall apart!”
“Papa, please! Mama and I are so happy to be here! And as for myself, I wish we would never have to leave. I am so completely in love with their culture, old traditions, and everything about the whole country!” Victoria answered cheerfully as she followed her parents, who were trying to find the way to their loge.
“Please, dear child, be very discreet in w
hat you say tonight. We are, after all, among countrymen and peers.”
“I am fully aware of this, Papa. I simply expressed my personal feelings. So far, I have never been negligent in my behavior as a Prussian Countess.”
“And a Lutheran at that!” Manfred exalted, squeezing her hand gently. “I want you to know how very proud I am of you! I only hope that someday you will find a husband worthy of you!”
“I'm sure she will,” Lotte answered, beaming at her lovely daughter. “Often, good things take their time.”
“I am in no hurry!” Victoria declared.
∼
Ambassador von Ritter excused himself from a group of diplomats and walked towards the von Wintersberg family, greeting each one of them. “Did anyone ever tell you that your daughter has a great likeness to Empress Elisabeth?”
All three looked at him in surprise. “Should I feel flattered, your Excellency?”
“What kind of a question is that, Count?"
“Well, I never met the Empress,” he stammered.
“Don't be so perplexed! I meant it as a great compliment, as she was one of the most beautiful women in Europe! You should know that much!”
“Thank you, sir!” he said, filled with pride, looking fondly at his daughter.
“Where is Baroness von Ritter?” Lotte inquired, more as a matter of formality rather than of real concern.
“At home nursing a sudden headache!”
“I’m so sorry to hear that,” Lotte lied.
“Don't be, Countess. She always gets one when her dresses get too tight!” he answered, amused and shockingly honest. “Some women lack discipline at the dinner table and my wife is one of them. You, however, are a very lucky man,” he declared, looking straight at the Count. “I hope you appreciate it.”
“Thank you, your Excellency,” he said, parting from him as other guests were making their way toward the Ambassador.
Yesterday Was Long Ago: Part One Page 35