Buddenbrooks (25 page)

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 glass partition, 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 massive 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 passed 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--God 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 God. 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.

3D2

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 spaces of the dining-temple with its images of the gods. 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 God, 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 balls, 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 balls 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 quantities 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 cucumber 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 God 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 assured 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.