Buddenbrooks_ The Decline Of A Family Part 3

CHAPTER VIII.

THAT year there was indeed a merry midsummer holiday in the Buddenbrook home. At the end of July Thomas re-turned to Meng Street and visited his family at the sh.o.r.e several times, like the other business men in the town. Chris-tian had allotted full holidays unto himself, as he complained of an indefinite ache in his left leg. Dr. Grabow did not seem to treat it successfully, and Christian thought of it so much the more. "It is not a pain--one can't call it a pain," he expatiated, rubbing his hand up and down his leg, wrinkling his big nose, and letting his eyes roani about. "It is a sort of ache, a continuous, slight, uneasy ache in the whole leg and on the left side, the side where the heart is. Strange. I find it strange--what do you think about it, Tom?" "Well, well," said Tom, "you can have a rest and the sea-baths." So Christian went down to the sh.o.r.e to tell stories to his fellow-guests, and the beach resounded with their laugh-ter. Or he played roulette with Peter Dohlmann, Uncle Jus-tus, Dr. Gieseke, and other Hamburg high-fliers. Consul Buddenbrook went with Tony, as always when they were in Travemiinde, to see the old Schwarzkopfs on the front. "Good-day, Ma'am Gr*," said the pilot-captain, and spoke low German out of pure good feeling. "Well, well, what a long time ago that was! And Morten, he's a doctor in Breslau and has all the practice in the town, the rascal." Frau Schwarzkopf ran off and made coffee, and they supped in the green verandah as they used to--only all of them were a good ten years older, and Morten arid little Meta were not there, she having married the magis-trate of Haffkrug. And the captain, already white-haired and rather deaf, had retired from his office--and Madame Griin-lirh was not a goose any more! Which did not prevent her from eating a great many slices of bread and honey, for, as she said: "Honey is a pure nature product--one knows what one is getting." At the beginning of August the Buddenbrooks, like most of the other families, returned to town; and then came the great moment when, almost at the same lime, Pastor Tiburtius from Prussia and the Arnoldsens from Holland arrived for a long visit in Meng Street. It was a very pretty scene when the Consul led hi? bride for the first time into the landscape-room and took her to his mother, who received her with outstretched arms. Gerda had grown tall and splendid. She walked with a free and gracious bearing; with her heavy dark-red hair, her close-set brown eyes with the blue shadows round them, her large, gleaming teeth which showed when she smiled, her straight slroiig nose and n.o.bly formed mouth, this maiden of seven-and-twenty years had a strange, aristocratic, haunting beauty. Her face was white and a little haughty, but she bowed her head as the Frau Consul with gentle feeling took it between hrr hands and kissed the pure, snowy forehead. "Yes, you are welcome to our house and to our family, you dear, beautiful, blessed creature," she said. "You will make him happy. Do I not see already how happy you make him?" And she drew Thomas forward with her other arm, to kiss him also. Never, except perhaps in Grandfather's time, was there more gay society in the great house, which accommodated its guests with ease. Pastor Tiburtius had modestly chosen a bed-chamber in the back building next the billiard-room. But the rest divided the unoccupied s.p.a.ce on the ground floor next the hall and in the first storey: Gerda; Herr Arnold-sen, a quick, clever man at the end of the fifties, with a pointed grey beard and a pleasant impetuosity in every mo* 291 tion; his oldest daughter, an ailing-looking woman; and his son-in-law, an elegant man of the world, who was turned over to Christian for entertainment in the town and at the club. Antonie was overjoyed that Sievert Tiburtius was the only parson in the house. The betrothal of her adored brother rejoiced her heart. Aside from Gerda's being her friend, the parti was a brilliant one, gilding the family name and the firm with such new glory! And the three-hundred-thousand mark dowry and the thought of what the town and particularly the Hagenstrbms would say to it, put her in a state of pro-longed and delightful enchantment. Three times daily, at least, she pa.s.sionately embraced her future sister-in-law. "Dh, Gerda," she cried, "I love you--you know I always did love you. I know you can't stand me--you used to hate me; but--" "Why, Tony!" said Fraulein Arnoldsen. "How could I have hated you? Did you ever do anything to me?" For some reason, however--probably out of mere wantonness and love of talking--Tony a.s.serted stoutly that Gerda had always hated her, while she on her side had always returned the hate with love. She took Thomas aside and told him: "You have done very well, Tom. Oh, heavens, how well you have done! If Father could only see this--it is just dreadful that he cannot! Yes, this wipes out a lot of things--not least the affair with that person whose name I do not even like to speak." Which put it into her head to take Gerda into an empty room and tell her with awful detail the story of her mar-ried life with Bendix Gr*. Then they talked for hours about boarding-school days and the bed-time gossip; nf Arm-gard von Schilling in Mecklenburg and Eva Ewers in Munich. Tony paid little or no attention to Sievert Tiburtius and his betrothed--which troubled them not at all. The lovers sat quietly together hand in hand, and spoke gently and earnestly of the beautiful future before them. As the year of mourning was not quite over, the two be- trothals were celebrated only in the family. But Gerda quickly became a celebrity in the town. Her person formed the chief subject of conversation on the Bourse, at the club, at the theatre, and in society. "Tip-top," said the gallants, and clucked their tongues, for that was the latest Hamburg slang for a superior article, whether a brand of claret, a cigar, or a "deal." But among the solid, respectable citizens there was much head-shaking. "Something queer about her," they said. "Her hair, her face, the way she dresses--a little too unusual." Sorenson expressed it: "She has a certain something about her!" He made a face as if he were on the Bourse and somebody had made him a doubtful proposition. But it was all just like Consul Buddenbrook: a little pretentious, not like his forebears. Everybody knew--not least Benthien the draper--that he ordered his clothes from Hamburg: not only the fine new-fashioned materials for his suits--and he had a great many of them, cloaks, coats, waist-coats, and trousers--but his hats and cravats and linen as well. He changed his shirt every day, sometimes twice a day, and perfumed his handkerchief and his moustache, which he wori! cut like Napoleon III. All this was not for the sake of the firm, of course--the house of Johann Buddenbrook did not need that sort of thing--but to gratify his own personal taste for the superfine and aristocratic--or whatever you might call it. And then the quotations from Heine and other poets' which he dropped sometimes in the most practical connections, in business or civic matters! And now, his bride--well, Consul Buddenbrook himself had "a certain something" about him! All this, of course, with the greatest respect; for the family was highly esteemed, the firm very, very "good," and the head of it an able and charming man who loved his city and would still serve her well. It was really a devilishly fine match for him; there was talk of a hundred thousand thaler down; but of course... Among the ladies there were some who found Gerda "silly"; which, it will be recalled, was a very severe judgment .293 BUDDENBR DDKS But the man who gazed with furious ardour at Thomas Buddenbrook's bride, the first time he saw her on the street, was Cosch the broker. "Ah!" he said in the club or the Ships' Company, lifting his gla.s.s and s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g up his face absurdly, "what a woman! Hera and Aphrodite, Brunhilda and Melusine all in one! Oh, how wonderful life is!" he would add. And not one of the citizens who sat about with their beer on the hard wooden benches of the old guild-house, under the models of sailing vessels and big stuffed fish hanging down from the ceiling, had the least idea what the advent of Gerda Arnoldsen meant in the yearning life of Gosch the broker. The little company in Meng Street, not committed, as we have seen, to large entertainments, had the more leisure for intimacy with each other. Sievert Tiburtius, with Clara's hand in his, talked about his parents, his childhood, and his future plans. The Arnoldsens told of their people, who came from Dresden, only one branch of them having been trans-planted to Holland. Madame Gr* asked her brother for the key of the secretary in the landscape-room, and brought out the portfolio with the family papers, in which Thomas had already en-tered the new events. She proudly related the Buddenbrook history, from the Rostock tailor on; and when she read out the old festival verses: Industry and beauty chaste See we linked in marriage band: Venus Anadyomene, And cunning Vulcan's busy hand she looked at Tom and [}erda and let her tongue play over her lips. Regard for historical veracity also caused her to narrate events connected with a certain person whose name she did not like to mention! On Thursday at four o'clock the usual guests came. Uncle Justus brought his feeble wife, with whom he lived an un- happy existence. The wretched mother continued to sc.r.a.pe together money out of the housekeeping to send to the de-generate and disinherited Jacob in America, while she and her husband subsisted on almost nothing but porridge. The Bud-denbrook ladies from Broad Street also came; and their love of truth compelled them to say, as usual, that Erica Grim Huh was not growing well and that she looked more than ever like her wretched father. Also that the Consul's bride wore a rather conspicuous coiffure. And Sesemi Weichbrodt came too, and standing on her tip-toes, kissed Gerda with her little explosive kiss on the forehead and said with emotion: "Be happy, my dear child." At table Herr Arnoldsen gave one of his witty and fanciful toasts in honour of the two bridal pairs. While the rest drank their coifee he played the voilin, like a gipsy, pa.s.sionately, with abandonment--and with what dexterity!... Gerda fetrhed her Stradivarius and accompanied him in his pa.s.sages with her sweet cantilena. They performed magnificent duets at the little organ in the landscape-room, where once the Consul's grandfather had played his simple melodies on the flute. "Sublime!" said Tony, lolling back in her easy chair. "Dh, heavens, how sublime that is!" And she rolled up her eyes to the ceiling to express her emotions. "You know how it is in life," she went on, weightily. "Not everybody is given Burh a gift. Heaven has unfortunately denied it to me, though I used to pray for it at night. I am a goose, a silly creature. You know, Cerda--I am the elder and have learned to know life--let me tell you, you ought to thank your Creator every day on your kners, for being such a gifted creature!" "Oh, please," said Gerda, with a laugh, showing her beauti-ful large white teeth. Later they all ate wine jelly and discussed their plans for the near future. At the end of that month or the beginning of September, it was decided, Sievert Tiburtius and the Ar-noldsens would go home. Then, directly after Christmas, 295 Clara's wedding would be celebrated with due solemnity in the great hall. The Frau Consul, health permitting, would attend Tom's wedding in Amsterdam. But it must be put off until the beginning of the next year, that there might be a little pause for rest between. It was no use for Thomas to protest. "Please," said the Frau Consul, and laid her hand on his sleeve. "Sievert should have the precedence, I think." The Pastor and his bride had decided against a wedding journey. Cerda and Thomas, however, were to take a trip to northern Italy, as far as Florence, and be gone about two months. In the meantime Tony, with the help of the up-holsterer Jacobs in Fish Street, was to make ready the charming little house in Broad Street, the property of a bachelor whD had moved to Hamburg. The Consul was already ar-ranging for its purchase. Dh, Tony would furnish it to the Queen's taste. "It will be perfect," she said. They were all sure it would. Christian looked on while the two bridal pairs held hands. and listened to the talk about weddings and trousseaux and bridal journeys. His nose looked bigger and his legs more crooked than ever. He felt an indefinite sort of pain in the left one, and stared solemnly at them all out of his little round deep-set eyes. Finally, in the accents of Marcellus Stengel, he said to his cousin Clothilde, who sat elderly, dried-up, silent, and hungry, at table among the happy throng: "Well, Tilda, let's us get married too--I mean, Df course each one for himself."

CHAPTER IX.

SOME six months later Consul Buddenbrook returned with his bride from Italy. The March snows lay in Broad Street as the carriage drove up at five o'clock before the front door of their simple painted facade. A few children and grown folk had stopped to watch the home-coming pair descend. Frau Antonie Criinlich stood proudly in the doorway, behind her the two servant-maids, with white caps, bare arms, and thick striped skirts--she had engaged them beforehand for her sister-in-law. Flushed with pleasure and industry, she ran impetuously down the steps; Gerda and Thomas climbed out of the trunk-laden carriage wrapped in their furs; and she drew them into the house in her embrace. "Here you are! You lucky people, to have travelled so far in the world. 'Knowest thou the house? High-pillared are its walls!' Gerda, you are more beautiful than ever; here, I must kiss you--no, so, on the mouth. How are you, Tom, old fellow?--yes, I must kiss you too. Marcus says everything has gone well here. Mother is waiting for you at home, but you can first just make yourselves comfortable. Will you have some tea? Or a bath? Everything is ready--you won't complain. Jacobs did his best--and I have done all I could, too." They went together into the vestib^,., and the servants brought in the luggage with the help of the coachman. Tony said: "The rooms here in the parterre you will probably not need for the present. For the present," she repeated, running her tongue over her upper lip. "Look, this is pretty," and she Dpened a door directly next the vestibule. "Simple oak furniture, ivy at the windows. Over there, the 297 other side of the corridor, is another room, a larger one. Here on the right are the kitchen and larder. But let's go up. I will show you everything." They went up the stairs, which were covered with a dark red runner. Above, behind a gla.s.s part.i.tion, was a narrow corridor which led to the dining-room. This had dark red damask wall-paper, a heavy round table upon which the samovar was steaming, a ma.s.sive sideboard, and chairs of carved nut-wood, with rush seats. Then there was a comfortable sitting-room upholstered in grey, separated by portieres from a small salon with a bay-window and furniture in green striped rep. A fourth of this whole storey was occupied by a large hall with three windows. Then they went into the sleeping-room, on the right of the corridor. It had flowered hangings and solid mahogany beds. Tony pa.s.sed on to a small door with open-work carving in the opposite wall, and displayed a winding stair leading from the bed-room to the lower floors, the bathroom, and the serv-ants' quarters. "It is pretty here. I shall stop here," said Gerda, and sank with a deep breath into the reclining chair beside one of the beds. The Consul bent over and kissed her forehead. "Tired? I feel like that too. I should like to tidy up a bit." "I'll look after the tea," said Tony Gr*, "and wait for you in the dining-room." The tea stood steaming in the Meissenware cups when Thomas entered. "Here I am," he said. "Gerda would like to rest a little. She has a headache. Afterward we will go to Meng Street. Well, how is everything, my dear Tony--all right? Mother, Erica, Christian? But now," he went on with his most charming manner, "our warmest thanks--Cerda's too--for all your trouble, you good snul. How pretty you have made everything! Nothing is missing.--I only need a few palms for my wife's bay-window; and I must look about for some suitable oil paintings. But tell me, now, how are you? What have you been doing all this time?" He had drawn up a chair for his sister beside himself, and slowly drank his tea and ate a biscuit as they talked. "Dh, Tom," she answered. "What should I be doing? My life is over." "Nonsense, Tony--you and your life! But it is pretty tire-some, is it?" "Yes, Tom, it is very tiresome. Sometimes I just have to shriek, out of sheer boredom. It has been nice to be busy with this house, and you don't know how happy I am at your return, But I am not happy here--G.o.d forgive me, if that is a sin. I am in the thirties now, but I'm still not quite old enough to make intimate friends with the last of the Himmelsburgers, or the Miss Gerhardts, or any of mother's black friends that come and consume widows' homes. I don't believe in them, Tom; they are wolves in sheep's clothing--a generation of vipers. We are all weak creatures with sinful hearts, and when they begin to look down on me for a poor worldling I laugh in their faces. I've always thought that all men are the same, and that we don't need any inter-cessors between us and G.o.d. You know my political beliefs. I think the citizens--" "Then you feel lonely?" Tom asked, to bring her back to her starting-point. "But you have Erica." "Yes, Tom, and I love the child with my whole heart--although a certain person did use to declare that I am not fond of children. But you see--I am perfectly frank; I am an honest woman and speak as I think, without making words--" "Which is splendid of you, Tony." "Well, in short--it is sad, but the child reminds me too much of Gr*. The Buddenbrooks in Broad Street think she is very like him too. And then, when I see her before me I always think: 'You are an old woman with a big daugh-ter, and your life is over. Once for a few years you were alive; but now you can grow to be seventy or eighty years 299 BUDDENBR D DKS old, sitting here and listening to Lea Gerhardt read aloud. That is such an awful thought, Tom, that a lump comes in my throat. Because I still feel so young, and still long to see life again. And besides, I don't feel comfortable--not only in the house; but in the town. You know I haven't been struck blind. I have my eyes in my head and see how things are; I am not a stupid goose any more, I am a divorced woman--and I am made to feel it, that's certain. Believe me, Tom, it lies like a weight on my heart, to know that I have besmirched our name, even if it was not any fault of mine. You can do whatever you will, you can earn money and be the first man in the town--but people will still say: 'Yes, but his sister is a divorced woman.' Julchen Mbllen-dorpf, the Hagenstrbm girl--she doesn't speak to me! Dh, well, she is a goose. It is the same with all families. And yet I can't get rid of the hope that I could make it all good again. I am still young--don't you think I am still rather pretty? Mamma cannot give me very much again, but even what she can give is an acceptable sum of money. Sup-pose I were to marry again? To confess the truth, Tom, it is my most fervent wish. Then everything would be put right and the stain wiped out. Dh, if I could only make a match worthy of our name, and set myself up again--do you think it is entirely out of the question?" "Not in the least, Tony. Heaven forbid! I have always thought of it. But it seems to me that in the first place you must get out a little, have a little change, and brighten up a bit." "Yes, that's it," she cried eagerly. "Now I must tell you a little story." Thomas was well pleased. He leaned back in his chair and smoked his second cigarette. The twilight was coming on. "Well, then, while you were away, I almost took a situation--a position as companion in Liverpool! Would you have thought it was shocking? Dh, I know it would have been undignified! But I, was so wildly anxious to get away. The 3DD plan came to nothing. I sent my photograph to the lady, and she wrote that she must decline my services, because I was too pretty--there was a grown son in the house. 'You are too pretty,' she wrote! I don't know when I have been so pleased." They both laughed heartily. "But now I have something else in mind," went on Tony. "I have had an invitation, from Eva Ewers, to go to Munich. Her name is Eva Niederpaur now; her husband is superin-tend ant of a brewery. Well, she has asked me to visit her, and I think I will take advantage of the invitation. Df course, Erica could not go with me. I would put her in Sesemi Weichbrodt's pension. She would be well taken care of. Have you any objection?" "Not at all. It is necessary, in any case, that you should make some new connections." "Yes, that's it," she said gratefully. "But now, Tom. I have been talking the whole time about myself; I am a selfish thing. Now, tell me your affairs. Oh, Heavens, how happy you must be." "Yes, Tony," he said with emphasis. There was a pause. He blew out the smoke across the table and continued: "In the first place, I am very glad to be married and set up an establishment. You know I should not make a good bachelor. It has a side to it that suggests loneliness and also laziness--and I am ambitious, as you know. I don't feel that my career is finished, either in business or--to speak half jestingly--in politics. And a man gains the confidence of the world bet-ter if he is a family man and a father. Though I came within an ace of not doing it, after all! I am a bit fastidious. For a long time I thought it would not be possible to find the right person. But the sight of Gerda decided me. I felt at once that she was the only one for me: though I know there are people in town who don't care for my taste. She is a wonderful creature; there are few like her in the world. She is nothing like you, Tony, to be sure. You are simpler, 301 BUDDENBR DDKS and more natural too. My lady sister is simply more tem-peramental," he continued, suddenly taking a lighter tone. "Oh, Derda has temperament too--her playing shows that; but she can sometimes be a little cold. In short, she is not to be measured by the ordinary standards. She is an artist, an individual, a puzzling, fascinating creature." "Yes, yes," Tony said. She had given her brother the closest attention. It was nearly dark, and she had not thought of lighting the lamps. The corridor door opened, and there stood before them in the twilight, in a pleated pique house-frock, white as snow, a slender figure. The heavy dark-red hair framed her white face, and blue shadows lay about her close-set brown eyes. It was Gerda, mother of future Buddenbrooks.

PART SIX.

CHAPTER I.

THOMAS BUDDENBRODK took a solitary early breakfast in bis pretty dining-room. His wife usually left her room late, as she was subject to headaches and vapours in the morning. The Consul went at once to Meng Street, where the offices still were, took his second breakfast with his mother, Chris-tian and Ida Jungmann in the entresol, and met Gerda only at dinner, at four in the afternoon. The ground floor of the old house still preserved the life and movement of a great business; but the upper storeys were empty and lonely, Little Erica had been received as a boarder by Mademoiselle Weichbrodt, and poor Clothilde had moved with her few sticks of furniture into a cheap pension with the widow of a high school teacher, a Frau Dr. Krauseminz. Even Anton had left the house, and gone over to the; young pair, where he was more needed. When Christian was at the club, the Frau Consul and Ida Jungmann sat at four o'clock dinner alone at the round table, in which there was now not a single extra leaf. It looked quite lost in the great s.p.a.ces of the dining-temple with its images of the G.o.ds. The social life of Meng Street had been extinguished with the death of Consul Johann Buddenbrook. Except for the visits of this or that man of G.o.d, the Frau Consul saw no guests but the members of her family, who still came on Thursday afternoons. But the first great dinner had already been given by the young pair in Broad Street. Tables were laid in both dining- and living-room, and there were a hired cook and waiters and Kistenmaker wines. It began at five o'clock, and its sounds and smells were still in the air at eleven. All the business and professional men were present, 305 BUDDENBRO DKS married pairs and bachelors as well: all the tribe of Langhals, Hag en stroms, Huneus', Kistenmakers, Overdiecks, and Mol-lendorpfs. It finished off with whist and music. They talked about it in glowing terms on the Bourse for a whole week. The young Frau Consul certainly knew how to entertain! When she and the Consul were alone, in the room lighted by burned-down candles, with the furniture disarranged and the air thick with heavy odours of rich food, wine, cigars, coffee, perfume, and the scent of the flowers from the ladies' toilettes and the table decorations, he pressed her hand and said: "Very good, Gerda. We do not need to be ashamed. This sort of thing is necessary. I have no great fondness for b.a.l.l.s, and having the young people jumping about here; and, be-sides, there is not room. But we must entertain the settled people. A dinner like that costs a bit more--but it is well spent." "You are right," she had answered, and arranged the laces through which her bosom shimmered like marble. "I much prefer the dinners to the b.a.l.l.s myself. A dinner is so soothing. I had been playing this afternoon, and felt a little queer. My brain feels quite dead now. If I were to be struck by lightning I should not change colour." Next morning at half past eleven the Consul sat down be-side his Mother at the breakfast table, and she read a letter aloud to him: MUNICH, April 2, 1857 MARIENPLATZ 5 MY DEAR MOTHER, I must beg your pardon--it is a shame that I have not written before in the eight days I have been here. My time has been so taken up with all the things there are to see--I'll tell you about them afterwards. Now I must ask if all the dear ones, you and Tom and Gerda and Erica and Chris-tian and Tilda and Ida, are well--that is the most important thing. Ah, what all I have seen in these days!--the Pinakothek and 3[)6 the Glyptothek and the Hofbrauhaus and the Court Theatre and the churches, and quant.i.ties of other things! I must tell you of them when I see you; otherwise I should kill myself writing. We have also had a drive in the Isar valley, and for to-morrow an excursion to the Wurmsee is arranged. So it goes on. Eva is very sweet to me, and her husband, Herr Niederpaur, the brewery superintendent, is an agreeable man. We live in a very pretty square in the town, with a fountain in the middle, like ours at home in the market place, and the house is quite near the Town Hall. I have never seen such a house. It is painted from top to bottom, in all colours--St. Georges killing dragons, and old Bavarian princes in full robes and arms. Imagine! Yes, I like Munich extremely. The air is very strengthening to the nerves, and for the moment I am quite in order with my stomach trouble. I enjoy drinking the beer--I drink a good deal, the more so as the water is not very good. But I cannot quite get used to the food. There are too few vege-tables and too much flour, for instance in the sauces, which are pathetic. They have no idea of a proper joint of veal, for the butchers cut everything very badly. And I miss the fish. It is quite mad to be eating so much cuc.u.mber and potato salad with the beer--my tummy rebels audibly. Yes, one has to get used to a great deal. It is a real for-eign country. The strange currency, the difficulty of under-standing the common people--I speak too fast to them and they seem to talk gibberish to me--and then the Catholicism. I hate it, as you know; I have no respect for it-- Here the Consul began to laugh, leaning back in the sofa with a piece of bread and herb cheese in his hand. "Yes, Tom, you are laughing," said his Mother, and tapped with her middle finger on the table. "But it pleases me very much that slip holds fast to the faith of her fathers and shuns the unevangelical gim-crackery. I know that you felt a cer-tain sympathy for the papal church, while you were in France and Italy: but that is not religion in you, Tom--it is something else, and I understand what. We must be forbearing; yet 307 in these things a frivolous feeling of fascination is very much to be regretted. I pray G.o.d that you and your Cerda,--for I well know that she does not belong to those firm in the faith--will in the course of time feel the necessary serious-ness. You will forgive your mother her words, I know." On top of the fountain (she continued reading) there is a Madonna, and sometimes she is crowned with a wreath, and the common people come with rose garlands and kneel down and pray--which looks very pretty, but it is written: "Go into your chamber." You often see monks here in the street; they look very respectable. But--imagine, Mamma!--yester-day in Theatiner Street some high dignitary of the church was driving past me in his coach; perhaps it was an arch-bishop; anyhow, an elderly man--well, this gentleman throws me an ogling look out of the window, like a lieutenant of the Guard! You know, Mother, I've no great opinion of your friends the ministers and missionaries, but Teary Trieschke was certainly nothing compared to this rakish old prince of the Church. "Horrors!" interjected the Frau Consul, shocked. "That's Tony, to the life," said the Consul. "How is that, Tom?" "Well, perhaps she just invited him a trifle--to try him, you know. I know Tony. And I am sure the 'ogling look' delighted her hugely, which was probably what the old gentle-man wanted." The Frau Consul did not take this up, but continued to read: Day before yesterday the Niederpaurs entertained in the evening. It was lovely, though I could not always follow the conversation, and I found the tone sometimes rather questionable. There was a singer there from the Court opera, who sang songs, and a young artist, who asked me to sit for him, which I refused, as I thought it not suitable. I rnjoyed myself most with a Herr Permaneder. Would you ever think there could be such a name? He is a hop-dealer, a nice, jolly man, in middle life and a bachelor. I had him at table, and stuck to him, for he was the only Protestant in the party. He is a citizen of Munich, but his family comes from Nuremberg. He a.s.sured me that he knew our firm very well by name, and you can imagine how it pleased me, Tom, to hear the respect-ful tone in which he said that. He asked how many there are of us, and things like that. He asked about Erica and Griin-lich too. He comes sometimes to the Niederpaurs', and is probably *oing to-morrow to Wurmsee with us. Well, adieu, dear Mamma; I can write no more. If I live and prosper, as you always say, I shall stop here three or four weeks more, and when I come back I will tell you more of Munich, for in a letter it is hard to know where to begin. I like it very much; that I must say--though one would have to train a cook to make decent sauces. You see, I am an old woman, with my life behind me, and I have nothing more to look forward to on earth. But if, for example, Erica should--if she lives and prospers--marry here, I should have nothing against it; that I must say. Again the Consul was obliged to stop eating and lean back in his chair to laugh. "She is simply priceless, Mother. And when she tries to dissimulate, she is incomparable. She is a thousand miles away from being able to carry it off." "Yes, Tom," said the Frau Consul, "she is a good child, and deserves good fortune." And she finished the letter.

CHAPTER II.

AT the end of April Frau Gr* returned home. Another epoch was behind her, and the old existence began again--attending the daily devotions and the Jerusalem evenings and hearing Lea Cerhardt read aloud. Yet she was obviously in a gay and hopeful mood. Her brother, the Consul, fetched her from the station--she had come from Buchen--and drove her through the Holsten Gate into the town. He could not resist paying her the old compliment--how, next to Clothilde, she was the prettiest one in the family; and she answered: "Oh, Tom, I hate you! To make fun of an old lady like that--" But he was right, nevertheless: Madame Griinlirh kept her good looks remarkably. You looked at the thick ash-blonde hair, rolled at the sides, drawn back above the little ears, and fastened on the top of the head with a broad tortoise-sh.e.l.l comb; at the soft expression of her grey-blue eyes, her pretty upper lip, the fine oval and delicate colour of her face--and you thought of three-and-twenty, perhaps; never of thirty. She wore elegant hanging gold earrings, which, in a some-what different form, her grandmother had worn before her. A loose bodice of soft dark silk, with satin rc-vcrs and flat lace epaulettes, gave her pretty bosom an enchanting look of softness and fulness. She was in the best of tempers. On Thursday, when Consul Buddenbrook and the ladies from Broad Street, Consul Kriiger, Clothilde, Sesemi Wiechbrodt and Erica came to tea, she talked vividly about Munich. The beer, the noodles, the artist who wanted to paint her, and the court coaches had made the greatest impressions. She mentioned Herr Permaneder in pa.s.sing; and Pfiffi Buddenbrook let fall a word or two to the effect that such a journey might be very agreeable, but did not seem to have any practical results. Frau Gr* pa.s.sed this by with dignity, though she put back her head and tucked in her chin. She fell into the habit now, whenever the vesti-bule bell rang thrcugh the entry, of hurrying to the landing to see who had come. What might that mean? Probably only Ida Jungmann, Tony's governess and year-long confi-dante, knew that. Ida would say, "Tony, my child, you will see: he'll rome." The family was grateful to the returned traveller for her cheering presence; for the atmosphere of the house sadly needed brightening. The relations between the head of the firm and his younger brother had not improved. Indeed, they had grown sadly worse. Their Mother, the Frau Consul, followed with anxious misgivings the course of events and had enough to do to mediate between the two. Her hints to visit the office more regularly were received in absent silence by Christian. He met his brother's remonstrances with a mor-tified air, making no defence, and for a few days would apply himself with somewhat more zeal to the English correspond-ence. But there developed more and more in the elder an ir-ritated contempt for the younger brother, not decreased by the fact that Christian received his occasional rebukes without seeming offence, only looking at him with the usual absent disquiet in his eyes. Tom's irritable activity and the condition of his nerves would not let him listen sympathetically or even patiently to Christian's detailed accounts of his increasing symptoms. To his mother or sister, he referred to them with disgust as "the silly phenomena of an obstinate introspection." The ache, the indefinite ache in Christian's left leg, had yielded by now to treatment; but the trouble in swallowing came on often at table, and there was lately a difficulty in breathing, an asthmatic trouble, which Christian thought for several weeks was consumption, He explained its nature and 311 activity at length tD his family, his nose wrinkled up the while. Dr. Grabow was called in. He said the hrart and lungs were operating soundly, but the occasional difficulty in breathing was due to muscular sluggishness, and ordered first the use of a fan and secondly that of a green powder which one burned, inhaling the smoke. Christian used the fan in the office, and to a remonstrance on the part of the chief an-swered that in Valparaiso every man in the office was pro-vided with a fan on account of the heat: ' 'Johnny Thunder-storm--good G.o.d!" But one day, after he had been wiiggling about on his chair for some time, nervous and restless, he took his powder out of his pocket and made such a strong and violent-smelling reek in the room that some of the men began to cough violently, and Herr Marrus grew quite pale. There was an open explosion, a scandal, a dreadful talking-to which would have led to a break at once, but lhat the Frau Consul once more covered everything all up, reasoned them out of it, and set things going again. But this was not all. The life Christian led outside the house, mainly wilh his old schoolmate Lawyer Gieseke, was observed by the Consul with disgust. He was no prig, no spoil-sport. He knew very well that his native town, this port and trading city, where men walked the streets proud of their irreproachable reputation as business men, was by no means of spotless morality. They made up to themselves for the tedious hours spent in their offices, by dinners with heavy wines and heavy dishes--and by other things. But the broad mantle of civic respectability concealed this side of their life. Thomas Buddenbrook's first law was to preserve "the dehors"; wherein he showed himself not so different from his fellow burghers. Lawyer Gieseke was a member of the professional cla.s.s, whose habits of life were much like those of the mer-chants. That he was also a "good fellow," anybody could see who looked at him. But, like the other easy men of pleasure in the community, he knew how to avoid trouble by wearing the proper expression and saying the proper thing. And in political and professional matters, he had a reputation of ir-reproachable respectability. His betrothal to Fraulein Huneus had just been announced; whereby he married a considerable dowry and a place in the best society. He was active in civic affairs, and he had his eye on a seat in the Council--even, ultimately, on the seat of old Burgomaster Overdieck. But his friend Christian Buddenbrook--the same who could go calmly up to Mile. Meyer-de-la-Grange, present her his bouquet, and say, "Dh, Fraulein, how beautifully you act!"--Christian had been developed by character and circ.u.mstances into a free-liver of the naive and untrammelcd type. In af-fairs of the heart, as in all others, he was disinclined to goverii his feelings or to practise discretion for the sake of preserving his dignity. The whole town had laughed over his affair with an obscure actress at the summer theatre. Frau Stuht in Bell Founders' Street--the same who moved in the best society--told everybody who would listen how Chris had been seen again walking by daylight in the open street with the person from the Tivoli. Even that did not actually offend people. There was too much candid cynicism in the community to permit a display of serious moral disapproval. Christian Buddenbrook, like Consul Peter Db'hlmann--whose declining business put him into somewhat the same artless cla.s.s--was a popular enter-tainer and indispensable to gentlemen's companions. But neither was taken seriously. In important matters they simply did not count. It was a significant fact that the whole town, the Bourse, the docks, the club, and the street called them by theii first names--Peter and Chris. And enemies, like the Hagenstrbms, laughed not only at Chris's stories and jokes, but at Chris himself, too. He thought little or nothing of this. If he noticed it, it pa.s.sed out of his mind again after a momentary disquiet. But his brother the Consul knew it. Thomas knew that Christian afforded a point of attack to the enemies of the family--and there were already too many such points. The connection 313 B U D D E N B R 0 0 K S with the Overdiecks was distant and would be quite worthless 'after the Burgomaster's death. The Krbgers played no role now; they lived retired, after the misfortunes with their son. The marriage of the deceased uncle Gotthold was always un-pleasant. The Consul's sister was a divorced wife, even if one did not quite give up hope of her re-marrying. And his brother was a laughing-stock in the town, a man with whose clownishness industrious men amused their leisure and then laughed good-naturedly or maliciously. He contracted debts, too, and at the end of the quarter, when he had no more money, would quite openly let Dr. Gieseke pay for him--which was a direct reflection on the firm. Thomas's contemp-tuous ill will, which Christian bore with quiet indifference, expressed itself in all the trifling situations that Dome up be-tween members of a family. If the conversation turned upon the Buddenbrook family history, Christian might be in the mood to speak with serious love and admiration of his native town and of his ancestors. It sat rather oddly on him, to be sure, and the Consul could not stand it: he would cut short the conversation with some cold remark. He despised his brother so much that he could not even permit him to love where he did. If Christian had uttered the same sentiments in the dialect of Marcellus Stengel, Tom could have borne it better. He had read a book, a historical work, which had made such a strong impression on him that he spoke about it and praised it in the family. Christian would by himself never have found out the book; but he was impressionable and accessible to every influence; so he also read it, found it wonderful, and described his reactions with all possible de-tail. That book was spoiled for Thomas for ever. He spoke of it with cold and critical detachment. He pretended hardly to have read it. He completely gave it over to his brother, to admire all by himself.

CHAPTER III.

CONSUL BUDDENBRDDK came from the'"Harmony"--a reading-c-lub for men, where he had spent the hour after second break-fast--hark into Meng Street. He crossed the yard from be-hind, entered the side of the garden by the pa.s.sage which ran between vine-covered walls and connected the back and front courtyards, and railed into the kitchen to ask if his brother were at home. They should let him know when he came in. Then he pa.s.sed through the office (where the men at the desks bent more closely over their work) into the private room; he laid aside his hat and stick, put on his working coat, and sat down in his place by the window, opposite Herr Mar-cus. Between his pale eyebrows were two deep wrinkles. The yellow end of a Russian cigarette roamed from one corner of his mouth to the other. The movements with which he took up paper and writing materials were so short and jerky that Herr Marcus ran his two fingers up and down his beard and gave his colleague a long, scrutinizing look. The younger men glanced at him with raised eyebrows. The Head was angry. After half an hour, during which nothing was heard but the scratching of pens and the sound of Herr Marcus discreetly clearing his throat, the Consul looked over the green half-blind and saw Christian coming down the street. He was smoking. He came from the club, where he had eaten and also played a bit. He wore his hat a little awry on his head, and swung his yellow stick, whirh had come from "over there" and had the bust of a nun for a handle. He was ob-viously in good health and the best of tempers. He came hum-ming into the office, said "Good morning, gentlemen," al-315 though it was a bright spring afternoon, and took his place tr "do a bit of work." But the Consul got up and, pa.s.sing him. said without looking at him, "Oh, may I have a few words with you?" Christian followed him. They walked rather rapidly through the entry. Thomas held his hands behind his back, and Christian involuntarily did the same, turning his big bony hooked nose toward his brother. The red-blond moustache drooped, English fashion, over his mouth. While they went across the court, Thomas said: "We will walk a few steps up and down the garden, my friend." "Good," answered Christian. Then there was a long silence again, while they turned to the left and walked, by the out-side way, past the rococo "portal" right round the garden, where the buds were beginning to swell. Finally the Consul said in a loud voice, with a long breath, "I have just been very angry, on account of your behaviour." "My--?" "Yes. I heard in the 'Harmony' about a remark of yours that you dropped in the club last evening. It was so obnox-ious, so incredibly tactless, that I can find no words--the stupidity called down a sharp snub on you at once. Do you care to recall what it was?" "I know now what you mean. Who told you that?" "What has that to do with it? Dijhlmann.--In a voice loud enough so that all the people who did not already know the story could laugh at the joke." "Well, Tom, I must say I was ashamed of Hagenstrbm." "You were ashamed--you, were--! Listen to me," shouted the Consul, stretching out both hands in front of him and shaking them in excitement. "In a company consisting of business as well as professional men, you make the remark, for everybody to hear, that, when one really considers it, every business man is a swindler--you, a business man yourself, belonging to a firm that strains every nerve and muscle to preserve its perfect integrity and spotless reputation!" "Good heavens, Thomas, it was a joke!--although, BUDDENBRDOKS really--" Christian hesitated, wrinkling his nose and stooping a little. In this position he took a few steps. "A joke!" shouted the Consul. "I think I can understand a joke, but you see how your joke was understood. Tor my part, I have the greatest respect for my calling.' That was what Hermann Hagenstrom answered you. And there you sat, a good-for-nothing, with no respect for yours--" "Tom, you don't know what you are talking about. I as-sure you he spoiled the whole joke. After everybody laughed, as if they agreed with me, there sat this Hagenstrom and brought out with ridiculous solemnity, Tor my part--' Stu-pid fool! I was really ashamed for him. I thought about it a long time in bed last night, and I had a quite remarkable feeling--you know how it feels--*" "Stop chattering, stop chattering, I beg you," interrupted the Consul. He trembled with disgust in his whole body. "I agree--I agree with you that his answer was not in the right key, and that it was tasteless. But that is just the kind of people you pick out to say such things to!--if it is neces-sary to say them at all--and so you lay yourself open to an insolent snub like that. Hagenstrom took the opening to--give not only you but us a slap. Do you understand what 'for my part' meant? It meant: 'You may have such ideas going about in your brother's office, Herr Buddenbrook.' That's what it meant, you idiot." "Idiot--?" said Christian. He looked disturbed and em-barra.s.sed. "And finally, you belong not to yourself alone; I'm sup-posed to be indifferent when you make yourself personally ridiculous--and when don't you make yourself personally ri-diculous?" Thomas cried. He was pale, and the blue veins stood out on his narrow temples, from which the hair went back in two bays. One of his light eyebrows was raised; even the long, stiff pointed ends of his moustache looked angry as he threw his words down at Christian's feet on the gravel with quick side wise gestures. "You make yourself 317 a laughing-stock with your love affairs, your harlequinades, your diseases and your remedies." Christian shook his head vehemently and put up a warning finger. "As far as that goes, Tom, you don't understand very well, you know. The thing is--every one must attend to his own conscience, so to speak. I don't know if you under-stand that.--Crabow has ordered me a salve for the throat muscles. Well--if I don't use it, if I neglect it, I am quite lost and helpless, I am restless and uncertain and worried and upset, and I can't swallow. But if I have been using it, I feel that I have done my duty, I have a good conscience, I am quiet and calm and can swallow famously. The salve does not do it, you know, but the thing is that an idea like that, you understand, can only be destroyed by another idea, an opposite one. I don't know whether you understand me--" "Oh, yes--oh, yes!" cried the Consul, holding his head for a moment with both hands. "Do it, do it, but don't talk about it--don't gabble about it. Leave other people alone with your horrible nuances. You make yourself ridiculous with your absurd chatter from morning to night. I must tell you, and I repeat it, I am not interested in how much you make a fool of yourself personally. But I forbid your com-promising the firm in the way you did yesterday evening." Christian did not answer, except to run his hand slowly over his spa.r.s.e red-brown locks, while his eyes roamed un-steadily and absently, and unrest sat upon his fare. Un-doubtedly he was still busy with the idea which he had just been expressing. There was a pause. Thomas stalked along with the calm-ness of despair. "All business men are swindlers, you say," he began afresh. "Good. Are you tired of it? Are you sorry you are a business man? You once got permission from Father--" "Why, Tom," said Christian reflectively, "I would really rather study. It must be nice to be in the university. One attends when one likes, at one's own free will, sits down and listens, as in the theatre--" "As in the theatre! Yes, I think your right place is that of a comedian in a cafe chantant. I am not joking. I am per-fectly convinced that is your secret ideal." Christian did not deny it; he merely gazed aimlessly about. "And you have the cheek to make such a remark--when you haven't the slightest notion of work, and spend your days storing up a lot of feelings and sensations and episodes you hear in the theatre and when you are loafing about, G.o.d knows where; you take these and pet them and study them and chatter about them shamelessly!" "Yes, Tom," said Christian. He was a little depressed, and rubbed his hand again over his head. "That is true: you have expressed it quite correctly. That is the difference between us. You enjoy the theatre yourself; and you had your little affairs too, once on a time, between ourselves! And there was a time when you preferred novels and poetry and all that. But you have always known how to reconcile it with regular work and a serious life. I haven't that. I am quite used up with the other; I have nothing left over for the regular life--I don't know whether you understand--" "Oh, so you see that?" cried Thomas, standing still and folding his arms on his breast. "You humbly admit that, and still you go on the same old way? Are you a dog, Chris-tian? A man has some pride, by G.o.d! One doesn't live a life that one may not know how lo defend oneself. But so you are. That is your character. If you can only see a thing and understand and describe it--. No, my patience is at an end, Christian." And the Consul took a quick backward step and made a gesture with his arms straight out. "It is at an end, I tell you.--You draw your pay, and stay away from the office. That isn't what irritates me. Go and trifle your life away, as you have been doing, if you choose. But you compromise us, all of us, wherever you are. You are a growth, a fester, on the body of our family. You are a dis-319 grace to us here in this town, and if this house were mine. I'd show you the door!" he screamed, making a wild sweeping gesture over the garden, the court, and the whole property. He had no more control of himself. A long-stored-up well of hatred poured itself out. "What is the matter with you, Thomas?" said Christian. He was seized with unaccustomed anger, standing there in a position common to bow-legged people, like a questionmark, with head, stomach, and knees all prominent. His little deep eves were wide open and surrounded by red rims down to the cheek-bones, as his Father's used to be in anger. "How are you speaking to me? What have I done to you? I'll go, without being thrown out. Shame on you!" he added with downright reproach, accompanying the word with a short, snapping motion in front of him, as if he were catching a fly. Strange to say, Thomas did not meet this outburst by more anger. He bent his head and slowly took his way around the garden. It seemed to quiet him, actually to do him good to have made his brother angry at last--to have pushed him finally to the energy of a protest. "Believe me," he said quietly, putting his hands behind his back again, "this conversation is truly painful to me. Put it had to take place. Such scenes in the family are frightful, but we must speak out once for all. Let us talk the thing over quietly, young one. You do not like your present position, it seems?" "No, Tom; you are right about that. You see, at first I was very well satisfied. I know I'm better off here than in a stranger's business. But what I want is the independence, I think. I have always envied you when I saw you sit there and work, for it is really no work at all for you. You work not because you must, but as master and head, and let others work for you, and you have the control, make your calculations, and are free. It is quite different." "Good, Christian. Why couldn't you have said that before? You can make yourself free, or freer, if you like. You know Father left you as well as me an immediate inheritance of fifty thousand marks current; and I am ready at any moment to pay out this sum for a reasonable and sound purpose. In Hamburg, or anywhere else you like, there are plenty of safe but limited firms where they could use an increase of capital, and where you could enter as a partner. Let us think the matter over quietly, each by himself, and also speak to Mother at a good opportunity. I must get to work, and you could for the present go on with the English correspondence." As they crossed the entry, he added, "What do you say, for in-stance, to H. C. F. Burmeester and Company in Hamburg? Import and export. I know the man. I am certain he would snap at it." That was in the end of May of the year 1857. At the be-ginning of June Christian travelled via Buchen to Hamburg--a heavy loss to the club, the theatre, the Tivoli, and the lib-eral livers of the town. All the "good fellows," among them Dr. Gieseke and Peter Dbhlmann, took leave of him at the station, and brought him flowers and cigars, and laughed to split their sides--recalling, no doubt, all the stories Christian had told them. And Lawyer Gieseke, amidst general applause, fastened to Christian's overcoat a great favour made out of gold paper. This favour came from a sort of inn in the neighbourhood of the port, a place of free and easy resort where a red lantern burned above the door at night, and it was always very lively. The favour was awarded to the de-parting Chris Buddenbrook for his distinguished services.

CHAPTER IV.

THE outer bell rang, and Frau Gr* appeared on the landing to look down into the court--a habit she had lately formed. The door was hardly opened below when she started, leaned over still more, and then sprang back with one hand pressing her handkerchief to her mouth and the other holding up her gown. She hurried upstairs. On the steps to the second storey she met Ida Jungmann, to whom she whispered in a suffocated voice. Ida gave a joyous shriek and answered with some Polish gibberish. The Frau Consul was sitting in the landscape room, crocheting a shawl or some such article with two large wooden needles. It was eleven o'clock in the morning. The servant came through the hall, knocked on the gla.s.s door, and waddled in to bring the Frau Consul a visiting-card. She took the card, got out her sewing-gla.s.ses, and read it. Then she looked again at the girl's red face; then read again; then looked up again at the girl. Finally she said calmly but firmly: "What is this, my dear? What does it mean r On the card was printed: "X. Noppe and Company." The "X. Nappe" and the "and" were crossed out with a lead-pencil, so that only the "Company" was left. "Oh, Frau Consul," said the maid, "there's a gentleman, but he doen't speak German, and he do go on so--" "Ask the gentlemen in," said the Frau Consul; for she understood now that it was the "Company" who desired ad-mittance. The maid went. Then the gla.s.s door was opened again to let in a stocky figure, who remained in the shadowy background of the room for a moment and said with a drawl- ing p.r.o.nunciation something that seemed as if it might have been: "I have the honour--" "Good morning," said the Frau Consul. "Will you not come in?" And she supported herself on the sofa-cushion and rose a little; for she did not know yet whether she ought to rise all the way or not. "I take the liberty," replied the gentleman in a pleasant sing-song; while he bowed in the politest manner, and took two steps forward. Then he stood still again and looked around as if searching for something--perhaps for a place to put his hat and stick, for he had brought both--the stick being a horn crutch with the top shaped like a claw and a good foot and a half long--into the room with him. He was a man of forty years. Short-legged and chubby, he wore a wide-open coat of brown frieze and a light flowered waistcoat which covered the gentle protuberant curve of his stomach and supported a gold watch-chain with a whole bou-quet of charms made of horn, bone, silver, and coral. His trousers were of an indefinite grey-green colour and too short. The material must have been extraordinarily stiff, for the edges stood out in a circle around the legs of his short, broad boots. He had a bullet head, untidy hair, and a stubby nose, and the light-blond curly moustache drooping over his mouth made him look like a walrus. By way of contrast, the im-perial between his chin and his underlip stood out rather bristly. His cheeks were extremely fat and puffy, crowding his eyes into two narrow light-blue cracks with wrinkles at the corners. The whole face looked swollen and had a funny expression of fierceness, mingled with an almost touching good nature. Directly below his tiny chin a steep line ran into the white neck-cloth: his goiterous neck could not have endured a choker. In fact, the whole lower part of his fare and his neck, the back of his head, his cheeks and nose, all ran rather formlfssly in together. The whole skin of the face was stretched to an immoderate tightness and showed a roughness at the ear-joinings and the sides of the nose. In 323 one of his short fat white hands the visitor held his stick; in the other his green Tyrolese hat, decorated with a chamois beard. The Frau Consul had taken off her gla.s.ses and was still rising from her sofa-pillow. "What can I do for you?" she asked politely but pointedly. The gentleman, with a movement of decision, laid his hat and stick on the lid of the harmonium. He rubbed his free hands with satisfaction and looked at the Frau Consul out of his kindly, light-blue eyes. "I beg the gracious lady's pardon for the card," he said. "I had no other by me. My name is Permaneder--Alois Permaneder, from Munich. Per-haps you might have heard my name from your daughter." He said all this in a puzzling dialect with a rather loud, coa.r.s.e voire; but there was a confidential gleam from the cracks of his eyes, which seemed to say: "I'm sure we un-derstand each other already." The Frau Consul had now risen entirely and went for-ward with her hand outstretched and her head inclined in greeting. "Herr Permaneder! Is it you? Certainly my daughter has spoken of you. I know how much you contributed to make her visit in Munich pleasant and entertaining. And so some wind has blown you all the way up here?" "That's it; you're just right there," said Herr Permaneder. He sat down by the Frau Consul in the armchair which she gracefully indicated to him, and began to rub his short round thighs comfortably with both hands. "I beg your pardon?" asked the Frau Consul. She had not understood a single word of his remark. "You've guessed it, that's the point," answered Herr Per-maneder, as he stopped rubbing his knees. "How nice!" said the Frau Consul blankly. She leaned back in her chair with feigned satisfaction and folded her hands. Actually, she was quite as much at sea as before, and inly wondering if Antonie were really able to follow the windings of the Bavarian tongue. But Heir Permaneder--though his appearance hardly led one to expect that he pos-sessed acute sensibilities--saw through her at once. He bent forward, making--G.o.d knows why--circles in the air with his hand, and, struggling after clarity, enunciated the words: "The gracious lady is surprised?" "Yes, Herr Permaneder, yes!" she cried, with disproportionate joy, for she had really understood him. Perhaps they could manage after all! But now there came a pause. To fill it out, Herr Permaneder gave a sort of groan, and fol-lowed it up by an exclamation in the broadest of dialect: something that shocked the Frau Consul because it sounded so like swearing, though it probably wasn't--at least, she hoped not! Should she ask him to repeat it? "Ah--what did you say?" she ventured, turning her light eyes a little away, that he might not see the bewilderment they expressed. Herr Permaneder obliged by repeating, with extraordinary loudness and coa.r.s.eness. Surely it was something about a crucifix! Horrors! "How nice!" she stammered again, with desperate finality; and thus this subject also was disposed of. It might be better to talk a little oneself. "May one ask," she went on, "what brings you so far, Herr Permaneder? It is a good long journey from Munich!" "A little business," said Herr Permaneder, as before, and waved his broad hand in the air. It was really touching, the efforts he made. "A little business, my dear lady, with the brewery at Walkmill." "Dh, yes--you are hop merchants, of course, my dear Herr Pprmaneder: Noppe and Company, isn't it? I am sure I have heard good things of your firm from my son," said the' Frau Consul cordially. Again she felt as if she were almost upon firm ground. Herr Permaneder waved away the compliment. That was nothing to mention. No, the main thing was, he wanted to pay his respects to the Frau Consul 325 and--see Frau Sriinlich again. That was enough to make the journey repay the trouble it cost. The Frau Consul did not understand it all, but she got the general drift, and was glad. "Oh, thank you," she said, with the utmost heartiness, and again offered him her hand, with the palm outstretched. "But we must call my daughter," she added, and stood up and went toward the embroidered bell-pull near the gla.s.s door. "Dh, Lord, yes, I'll be glad to see her!" cried the hop merchant, and turned his chair and himself toward the door at one and the same time. The Frau Consul said to the servant: "Ask Madame Griin-lich to come down, my dear." Then she went back to her sofa, and Herr Permaneder turned himself and his chair around again. "Lord, yes, I'll be glad!" he repeated, while he stared at the hangings and the furniture and the great Sevres inkstand on the secretary. But then he sighed heavily, several times over, rubbed his knees, and gave vent to his favourite out-landish phrase. The Frau Consul thought it more discreet not to inquire again into his meaning; besides, he muttered it under his breath, with a sort of groan, though his mood, otherwise, appeared to be anything but despondent. And now Frau Griinlirh appeared. She had made a little toilette, put on a light blouse, and dressed her hair. Her face looked fresher and prettier than ever, and the tip of her tongue played in the corner of her mouth. Scarcely had she entered when Herr Permaneder sprang up and went to meet her wilh tremendous enthusiasm. He vibrated all over. He seized both her hands, shook them and cried: SbWell, Frau Gr*! Well, well, grilss Gott! Well, and how's it been going with you? What you been doing up here? Yes, yes!? Gr*tt! Lrrd, I'm just silly glad to see you. Do you think sometimes of little old Munich and what a gay time we had? Dh, my, oh my! And here we are again. Who would 'a' thought it?" Tony, on her side, greeted him with great vivacity, drew up a chair, and began to chat with him about her weeks in Munich. Now the conversation went on without hitches, and the Frau Consul followed it, smiling and nodding encouragingly at Herr Permaneder. She would translate this or that expression into her own tongue, and then lean back into the sofa again, well pleased with her own intelligence. Herr Permaneder had to explain to Frau Antonie in her turn the reason of his appearance. But he laid small stress on the "little business" with the brewery, and it was ob-viously not the occasion of his visit at all. He asked with interest after the second daughter and the sons of the Frau Consul, and regretted loudly the absence of Clara and Chris-tian, as he had always wanted to get acquainted with the whole family. He said his stay in the town was of indefinite length, but when the Frau Consul said: "I am expecting my son for second breakfast at any moment, Herr Permaneder. Will you give us the pleasure of your company?" he accepted the invitation almost before she gave it, with such alacrity that it was plain he had expe