"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 ref
used 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.
She put aside her napkin.
"Would you like me to open the window a bit?" he said.
"Yes please."
"I'd much rather go to Borchard's; but Borchard's have no cabinets particuliers."
"Jules," said Caroline. "I cannot go through with this."
She felt him go stiff, as a dog goes stiff in mid-run.
After a moment he said, "I always knew it was too good to be true."
She gave him a look. "I did not mean it like this, I'm not trying to jilt you. Is this how they do it? I was not thinking of you."
He waited.
"I cannot go through—all this. The nuptial mills—Berlin Cathedral— That is one aisle I do not wish to walk up. And I will not." She took fire. "I can do many things. There're things that are impossible for me to do. And I'm perfectly clear as to those!"
Jules said, slowly, gently, "Is it because of the previous attachment?"
She gave him another swift look; then she allowed a silence. "Jules, you are the most extraordinary man. Yes. At least partly. I don't know. I've taken an independent dislikes of aisles."
He said gravely, "One is not happy at these ceremonies."
"Jules." She held his eyes. "I'm going to ask something of you. Do not say no too quickly. I am asking you to go away with me, now, soon, at once—before this ghastly date."
Jules listened.
"Let's get on the train to Spain and clear out. Get me out of here before I lose my mind."
"How can I?" said Jules. Then, "Yes—I could, I can." His voice changed to a high, reciting tone and he went on, "I can take you away, I shall get you away. Tomorrow?"
"You are wonderful," she said. "You've given me confidence in myself, I was more right about you than I knew. And Jules—I shall never forget this— you will be able to count on me too."
"I only want to be with you," he said.
He poured her a glass of the wine and she drank it, and she also ate some of the bread and butter.
"And now that's settled, we might as well do some thinking. We had better get married all the same, don't you agree? Rather an unnecessary act of folly if I were to run off with you at this point."
"Whatever you prefer," Jules said. "Unmarried lasts longer."
"Give me some more bread and butter. Like poor Jeanne. Has it with you? I always heard you were so flighty."
"Over twenty years," he said. "Of course with interruptions."
"And never a thought of wedlock?"
"It would not have been suitable earlier on. And when one might have, there were obstacles. It would have been very comfortable. Now I'm glad."
"Sarah says you almost married a French widow."
"Not a widow," said Jules.
"My pet, I must tell Sarah myself. You will have to explain or fail to explain to everybody else. I'm leaving it all to you. I suppose then a quick job at a registry office? There must be such a thing. We have three days. At least you know the language."
"Clara?"
"She'll have to lump it. J shall have to telegraph my uncle. He ought to be grateful for being saved from Bernin. Poor Uncle John has such a boyish nature; I feel at last I'm standing guard over his career."
"Clara would mind our believing we were married when we are not."
"Of course! civil marriage doesn't count in your—in our —church. Oh dear. I don't think we can do that to her. . . . Well, we must find some friar in a village in Spain soon and send her a post card or the certificate."
"Two marriages. . . ."
"Darling."
He got up, and found the bell.
"Yes, do order some lunch," she said.
"The oysters have got warm," said Jules. "I ate mine."
They were married by a priest in the anteroom at Voss Strasse in the presence of Clara and Gottlieb. The Merzes had been persuaded not to appear. They sent a hamper to the train.
There had been one more hitch: Caroline had pensioned off her Brown at the time of her engagement, and the new woman suddenly refused to travel. "I shall have to sleep in my clothes," she told Sarah. "It won't be easy to find someone here," Sarah said. Finally, Grandmama offered to lend her own maid Marie, and Marie said she did not mind if she saw Spain again before she died.
After it was over, Caroline said, "This room looks strange? Oh, it's Jules's cats."
"I asked them to remove those idols," said Clara.
Caroline shook hands with the priest and with Gottlieb. Clara kissed her. Then Clara and the priest left. Jules drew his watch.
"Do go up to Henrietta," said Caroline.
In the carriage, they looked out of their windows.
"In Rome one throws a coin into that fountain," said Jules.
"I am cold."
Halfway to the station, Jules said, "Sarah asked me to give you a message. It's about your present. She's giving you one of her pictures."
Caroline waited.
"The large one you know. The two women on the bench."
She went white.
"I was to tell you: as she did not know where you would be, she left it in Paris for you; it is in a strong room in a bank in your name."
"She shouldn't have done that. No —**
"You like that picture, do you not?" said Jules.
She shut her eyes. "What it must be like to be able to give something like that. . . . Scaring." "Now it belongs to you."
Caroline burst into tears. "Sarah has given me her Monet—the beautiful Monet—" She wept loudly, more like a boy sobbing over a dead rat than a lady driving in the morning through the streets. "I've been beastly to Sarah, beastly— And now I can't even tell her. I've behaved like a monster— Oh Jules." She took the handkerchief from him. "Clara is right. She says I am wilful."
When they had been in Spain for six months Jules bought a horse for Caroline.
"Do you think it will please her? It is a surprise."
"I am sure it is a very fine animal."
"You see, the weather is getting cooler. Shall I have him brought round to the patio?"
"Frau Baronin is resting. Frau Baronin said she was not to be disturbed."
"Oh of course not," said Jules.
Marie moved to go.
"Did the English books arrive today?"
"No sir."
&n
bsp; "Do you think they could be lost?*'
"It would not be surprising, sir."
"What can we do?" said Jules.
"If there is nothing else, sir?"
"Send me Pedro, will you?"
"Pedro's gone into town with Frau Baronin's letters."
"Oh, yes. Perhaps if we sent someone to Gibraltar?"
"Gibraltar, sir?"
"There must be English books at Gibraltar."
"I am sure I don't know, sir."
The distance of humped hills lay drained ivory at that hour. Caroline was standing in her room. Tu reclamais le soir; il descend; le void. "And then," she said. "And then . . ." "Oh, is that you?" She did not turn. "What time is it?" "Getting on for half past five, ma'am."
"It can't be; the sun's down."
"Well, the days are drawing in."
"We seem to be dining just as late," said Caroline.
"Herr Baron has been in some time."
"I think I'll have my bath now. How's the water?"
"Herr Baron has had the second cistern filled today."
"No; it's too soon. I shall wait for a bit later. I'll ring."
"Very good ma'am."
"Marie—do you ever have headaches?"
"Oh no, ma'am."
"I have been lying down."
"Ma'am ought to be lying down."
"What is it?"
"It's me, ma'am. Herr Baron is in the east loggia. Herr Baron wishes to know if Frau Baronin will join him in a game of dominoes and a glass of wine before dinner?"
"Oh, all right; I'll be down presently. What are you fussing about?"
"I'm putting out ma'am's clothes."
"Oh I'm not going to change."
The carriage was in the drive. Jules had been ready this half hour. "We shall be late," he said.
"For the fireworks," said Pedro.
"There'll be fireworks three days," said the coachman.
"The Procession," said Jules. "The Procession is always so beautiful."
Pedro sprang to open the front door.
"Frau Baronin is not coming. Frau Baronin has changed her mind."
"Not coming to the fiesta?" Jules said. "Perhaps it was tiring the last time." He turned to the house.
"What is it?"
"The horses are getting restless."
"Why?"
A legacy; a novel Page 20