The Captive up
They bought grapes and ices and a pair of sailor's caps and a celluloid flag, and Robert allowed her to nurse his ears. Later, while she waited, the old gentleman introduced them to his club.
"There are no such people" said Gustavus. "There were some Merzweiler Schleicheggs, but they've had no issue since the Diet of Ratisbon. And there are the Hungarian Marz Marz-Glinsky who are mediatized and of course have been insane for a very long time."
"There are/' said Count Bernin. "Arthur Merz. Merz & Merz G.m.b.H. Phosphates. A sizeable fortune; quite idle."
"Israelites," said Gustavus, lowering his tone in spite of himself. "Presumably a papal title."
"Converts," said Clara. "Oh Conrad!"
"No title. Not converts. I shouldn't think they were christened."
There was a silence.
"Pious Jews—" said Clara. "It is well to remember the origin of our religion."
Gustavus had covered his face. "Nineteen generations of recorded alliances—"
"Can you make out whether it is at all settled?" said Count Bernin.
"Jules doesn't say."
"Knights of the Undivided Vigil . . . Knights of Saint John . . . Knights of the Perpetual Lamp. . . ."
"Papa was never entirely opposed to mixed marriages, as you may remember," said Count Bernin.
"Is it to be an engagement dinner?"
"Of course not," said Sarah. "Just an ordinary dinner party. Smart . . . Not too much food . . . Jules will take me in, and we'll put Professor Boden on my other side."
"The museum wallah?"
"Yes," said Sarah.
"Oughtn't we to have Prince Eitel-Heinz?"
"No," said Sarah. "Above all no royalty, I beg you. Madame Mopurgo on Jules's left— "
"Madame Mopurgo?"
"Yes."
"What about Melanie?"
"Melanie will go in with the French Naval Attache."
"Won't she mind?"
"Not if she knows what's good for her. Claude Billy is most decorative and he's always managed to live in Persia and places. She's got a new Worth. Sulphur yellow. We didn't think there was time, but Jeanne's done wonders."
"Have you been seeing Jeanne?" said Edu.
"Every day," said Sarah.
Count Bernin wrote to Julius's lawyer and to Fried-rich; got in touch with one or two people; then wrote to Julius's lawyer again. All of this took time. There did not seem to be much of a case, he pointed out; if they let it go as disturbance of the peace, that was; there was still a chance of their bringing it in as contempt of state, lese-fonctionnaire, a charge to be avoided. They seemed to feel touchy about the business; it would be useful if one were able to tender a statement to the effect that the primum mobile as one might say—chimpanzees, was it?—had been eliminated. Was it wise of Baron Felden to live with them openly at the most expensive hotel in town? It was also said that they were being seen in public in the company of the defendant's prospective father-in-law; the authorities appeared to be a little suspicious of the Baron—perhaps he was not creating quite the right impression . . . ?
"I don't want to miss the English Derby," said Edu. "There's no reason why you shouldn't go." "I say, Sarah, I wish I knew what everybody's up to." "How do you mean?"
"Well, people are sort of wondering. I don't know what to tell them. You know—I don't think he ever really asked Papa."
"Your father seems to be under the impression that he did."
"He knows he asked me in the South of France."
"Did Jules do that?"
"Through you, I thought.'*
Clara stood in the doorway of the bare room that seemed arranged as if in perpetual expectation of a board meeting. "Conrad, we must know who is instructing Jules's future wife. Jules does not tell. Can he be reading our letters?"
Count Bernin was going over estate accounts with Gustavus. He did not look up. "Oh one of the Fasanen Strasse Fathers, very likely," he said.
Clara sighed. "I'd so much rather it were someone like Father Martin. Do you think we ought to send Father Martin?"
"My dear—the poor chap is a very old man."
"He never shirked his duty."
"Oh come on, Clara," said Gustavus, "Fasanen Strasse is perfectly all right."
"Money's at last come up."
"Whom did you talk to?" said Jeanne.
"Friedrich. The old people. Markwald, Emil. Everyone. With Gottlieb in and out. Think of your not knowing Gottlieb. That's enough to make anybody's married life."
"I can't call it that."
"Friedrich was the worst, you know."
"Such a pity Jules will go on thinking he's sixty; Friedrich is as vain as Edu."
"I can hardly believe it," said Sarah.
"It was two millions they gave Flora, wasn't it?"
"Yes; but then Max is very well off himself. I never expected as much as that for Jules."
"Is that how it works? A rich man's dot, and a poor man's dot?"
"It's not unnatural," said Sarah.
"How much did you bring Edu?" said Jeanne.
"Five."
"That went rather fast didn't it?"
"It went. Well, Emil and Edu thought they'd never make it more than four or five hundred thousand, but I knew that million had stuck in the old people's mind, and I was right. They spoke of it as The Million from the start."
"Then it is a million! Sarah, I am glad for Le Beau Jules."
"There's a hitch," said Sarah. "They can't find anything to put it into."
"Invest it?"
"It's usual to put the dot into the son-in-law's business."
"Oh."
"They're quite ready to set him up in one."
"It is their tendency," said Jeanne.
"My dear!"
The two women laughed.
"They mentioned Max's bank. Melanie got to hear of that. One can see how. The way the servants don't have to stoop to keyholes in that house. . . . She's dead against it. So is Edu for that matter."
"So are you," said Jeanne.
"In this case. Ordinarily I rather like to see a man work. My brothers do."
"It has its advantages," said Jeanne.
"Friedrich's idea was to settle the dot on Jules, and let him and Melanie spend the interest. The trouble with that is that a million at two or three per cent—the kind of investment they're thinking of—would give them something between twenty or thirty thousand marks a year. It's not enough, Jeanne. Their clothes alone'd come to that."
"Did you point that out?"
"It wouldn't do to be too precise. Emil has seen the truth all the time, and Markwald has sniffed it out. The old people are vaguely puzzled. I really think that if everybody weren't so very vague there wouldn't be a marriage."
"You and I are not vague."
"Jeanne— why are you for it?"
"I don't know that I am. A middle-aged woman's instinct for matchmaking. An exile's affection for her country and someone connected with it. A woman's feeling for another woman. A woman's feeling for a handsome man in distress. My feelings about Friedrich's parents."
"/ could have stopped it," Sarah said. "I could still stop it. And by doing nothing."
"No woman can stop another from getting her man for the right reason."
Sarah said, "She can help her for the wrong ones."
"Of course he'll make her a wretched husband. There are worse things. What makes you think the girl will ever choose better? Or have the chance?"
"She might subside into her own tradition."
"About that money—Sarah, you could make them let him have it outright, you know you could."
"I'm not at all sure that I want to. A million is a great deal of money. I should hate not to see them decently provided for, but capital is capital."
"Yes," said Jeanne, "I've been brought up to believe in savings too."
"What I am out to get for them is an allowance, a big allowance. I suggested seventy-five and I think they're going to make it sixty thousand a year. I'm sure that's best for them—it's comfortable, and it's safe. Edu and I will give them the price of a house for a wedding present."
"Very comfortable. All the same, Sarah—I don't like the sound of an allowance."
"Only until the old people die. Melanie's share, even if left to her in trust, which of course it will be, is going
to be enough for her and Jules to be extremely well off on the interest."
"I see you worked it all out," said Jeanne.
"Yes," Sarah said, "I have."
Grandmama Merz eventually put two and two together.
"Is Melanie going to live in a house with monkeys?"
Fraulein von Tschernin, who had had a glimpse also of Julius, confirmed that this was part of her daughter's radiant prospects.
"We're not going to allow it," said Grandmama.
"Herr Geheimrat is fond of them too."
"Monkeys are all right for bachelors," said Grandpapa.
"I asked him whether he was going to have those brutes about for the rest of his life," said Markwald; "and you know what he told me? Alas, very likely not, although they did live longer than dogs."
"Dogs too?" said Grandmama.
"Flora's Max brought one," said Friedrich.
"Not in the house," said Grandmama. "Flora told me."
"What does one do with unwanted monkeys?" said Emil.
Grandmama pondered this. "He must give them away," she said. "Hasn't he any poor relations?"
Again Clara walked into a room. She seldom sat down. "I feel I must go myself. I am certain of it."
"You've not been at all well," said her brother. "Besides there's our repository for Corpus Christi."
"Those decorations are not important. I always think they are too elaborate. It distracts attention. And Gus-tavus can see to them just as well."
"I don't agree," said Count Bernin. "The children of Mary expect you to help them; and it is important—the mistress of Sigmundshofen has always done the repository, hundreds of people will come in the procession to look at it."
"And there's the Bishop," said Gustavus.
"I do not see it in that way," said Clara.
The first sign that Julius had got down to reading Clara's letters came from Friedrich. Julius had to report once a week at a Police station and Friedrich accompanied him there again on the first Monday in June. Afterwards he dropped in at Jeanne's very cross, and found Sarah.
"I think your precious Felden must be pulling all our legs. You know what he said to me today, in that southern voice of his, 'Your niece is a Catholic?' "
"He didn't. What did you say?"
"I said we were no Christians if that was what he meant. And he said, yes, no, of course, but did I mean that she was definitely not a member of the Church?"
"Oh dear," said Sarah. "I don't think he can mind."
"Mind?" said Friedrich. "I mind. I can see why those railway people thought he was impertinent."
"It's that he's used to everybody being Catholic," said Jeanne. "It is like that where he comes from. My father belonged to La Libre Pensee and I am what you might call relapsed, but we're all Catholics."
"He thought / was a Christian," said Friedrich.
Sarah was seeing Julius that afternoon, and they had a talk which drove her to dine at Voss Strasse.
"It might be advisable not to broach anything until afterwards, ma'am," Gottlieb said to her in the hall.
Sarah ignored him, but not his warning. Edu had left for London; Jules had felt entitled to excuse himself that night; she sat almost silent through the cream of chicken, the crayfish in aspic, the vol-au-vent, the calf's tongue and currants in Madeira, the chartreuse of pigeon and the mousseline of artichokes, and it was only after the Nessel-rode pudding and Melanie sent upstairs that she disclosed that Jules Felden appeared to think it necessary for his wife to share his religion.
"He wants her to get baptized."
"The young man with the monkeys wants our daughter baptized".
"Who does he think we are?"
"Even Max never suggested anything of the kind!"
"I told you he was a goy in disguise."
"The poor child."
"Please, Emil—" said Sarah.
"Well," he said, "of all the cold-blooded, ungentlemanly suggestions—"
Sarah, deciding to let it blow over, had gone home. Next morning she saw Julius again, then Friedrich, then the old man. She had asides with Markwald. The Merzes were glad to vent their feelings but refused to discuss the subject, and during the week that followed nobody budged an inch.
"It's like fighting featherbeds," Sarah said to Jeanne. "And it shows how wrong one can be. The old lady and Jules. I never expected any trouble from those two; they're the worst. Jules finds it odd that Melanie wasn't christened, it alarms him. Just says he couldn't marry someone who wasn't a Catholic—it wasn't done—nobody did. Over and over again. Just sticks to that. He might have thought of it before. Really now, I'm going to wash my hands. I can see the Merzes' point. Do you understand him at all?"
"Oh quite," said Jeanne.
"It isn't as though he'd ever showed himself the least bit pratiquant."
"Nor do the Merzes for that matter. Friedrich goes to nothing—except funerals—and there isn't even the pretence of keeping the Sabbath at Voss Strasse, or not eating lobsters or ham—"
"It is peculiar," Sarah said; "theological deadlock between nonpractising members of two religions."
Edu returned from Epsom and heard some hard words. Jules no longer lunched at Voss Strasse; Sarah talked of summer plans. One evening Melanie put on a thick veil and slipped out with her maid, Hedwig. They entered the Matheus Kirche by a side door. Hedwig was a well-
known face in the congregation; Melanie carried a small purse with gold; Paster Voller was aged. So it was after only a brief interview that she was led into the empty church where water was sprinkled on her forehead and she spoke the words taught to her by Gottlieb, signed the register and was received a member of the Reformed Evangelical Church of Germany.
She returned to Voss Strasse, late, in high excitement, two red circles burning on her cheeks.
The family was worried but already in the dining-room. She faced them.
"It is done," she announced: "I am Jules's."
"The cad," said Markwald.