She went to the kitchen and disclosed the state of affairs to Lotte. Seven rooms, the cold fillet of beef, the beans, there was some sauce left, asparagus soup and—well, of all things, there stood the washing-up from last night! “My dear girl, don’t you wash up every evening, as I told you to? Why not, then?”
Whereupon Lotte promptly broke into tears. Sobbing, she declared she knew nothing about asparagus soup, that she would never be able to do it, that she wouldn’t let herself be shouted at, that she too would rather leave at once.…
Frau Eva wanted to think over what she had heard from Hubert Rader, what she should do with her daughter, and say to her husband. There were a thousand things to occupy and torment Frau Eva. But no, she must console Lotte and initiate her into the secret of how to make “real” asparagus soup from dried parings, with the aid of a small glass jar of asparagus tips. Finally she promised the disconsolate girl to ask her mother for a maid from the Manor as assistant.… And all the while she had the feeling that the disgusting Armgard was listening behind the kitchen door, delighted at her mistress’s embarrassment.… Seven rooms to be done were in truth a nightmare.
Frau Eva walked to the office; she had to inform young Pagel of the dismissals. But the place was closed and the customary notice dangling on the door: “Urgent inquiries at the Villa.…” But in the Villa there was only the disconsolate Lotte, and when the dismissed servants came to get their papers from the office they would see the notice inviting them back to the Villa. Confusion would be complete!
She shrugged her shoulders—things were like that—and she went on to the Manor, telling herself that there at least everything would be the same as ever. But in front stood a cart on which trunks were being loaded, and at that moment up drove the ancient landau with her father’s fat Hanover horses.
“What’s taking place here, Elias?” she asked, astonished.
“Good morning, madam. The lady and gentleman are going on a journey,” reported old Elias, taking off his little cap.
She ran into the house and up the stairs to her mother’s room. In her armchair Frau von Teschow was sitting in coat and hat; behind her was old Kuckhoff with a bundle of sticks and umbrellas under her arm. Frau von Teschow was directing the maids, who were drawing linen dustsheets over the furniture.
“So there you are, child,” said the old lady. “We shouldn’t have gone away, of course, without coming over to look in on you again.”
“But where are you going to so suddenly, Mamma? Papa never said a word about it yesterday.”
“My dear child! Last night! It was unbearable.” Holding her head, the old lady sighed dolefully. “Oh, why did your husband also have to bring these convicts to our dear Neulohe?”
“But they’ve gone away now, Mamma.”
“Run away! I never slept a wink all night. I could hear people prowling around all the time. The stairs creaked, and once I heard giggling there … Yes, exactly as you are giggling now, you stupid goose, Marta!” said Frau von Teschow, angrily rebuking a maid who turned crimson.
“You imagined that, Mamma. It would be the gendarme on guard in the street. Their officer said …”
“My dear child, I believe only my ears! I’m going away. Your father for once is thoughtfulness itself. We shall go first of all to Berlin. Hotel Kaiserhof, Eva, if there should be anything. We’re not going to be murdered in our beds! Oh, no!” And encumbered with her sticks and umbrellas, Aunt Jutta emphatically announced that she preferred the Kaiserhof to the churchyard.
Frau Eva saw it was useless to speak against the journey. The only puzzling thing was her father’s prompt consent, for usually no complaints whatever from his wife would drive him away from his beloved Neulohe. But there was one good thing about it: she would be able to get a maid from her mother without difficulty.
Frau von Teschow shook her head. “You are always having trouble with your servants. That comes of spoiling them. And you don’t send them to my evening prayers anymore!” In the end, however, after many a pointed remark, she declared herself willing that Marta should help. Marta, though, showed opposition. No, she wouldn’t. She had been taken on for the Manor, not the Villa. Frau von Teschow tried to talk her round, Frau von Prackwitz promised her a reward, Fraulein von Kuckhoff admonished her, but Marta remained obstinate. She would not. Very well, then Trudchen! But neither would Trudchen. Trudchen in fact had an excuse: the Villa was too gloomy for her. Too far from the village; and now, when convicts were loose.…
“I really can’t blame her, Eva,” whispered Frau von Teschow. “I don’t know how you look on your responsibility for Violet, but you should let her go with us to Berlin.”
For a moment Frau von Prackwitz thought this a good idea. But: “Violet has gone out with her father.”
“Of course. In that new car of yours. Horst-Heinz phoned to Berlin at once; a car like that costs easily twenty thousand marks. How can you afford it, when you are moaning about the rent?”
“Well, what about one of the maids, Mamma?”
“My dear child, you hear yourself. In these circumstances I really can’t compel them. If something happened to them in the Villa I should have to reproach myself forever.”
“Oh, you mustn’t do that, of course, Mamma. I’ll make shift with Minna or Hartig.”
“I do wish I could have helped you, Evchen. But you really must stand more on your authority with the servants. I hear that you often don’t go into the kitchen for a whole week!” Little pin-pricks, protestations, farewells …
When they went down to the carriage, Geheimrat von Teschow was standing in the hall in his best suit, which clothed the hairy East Prussian even more dreadfully than his customary worsted. “A minute, Eva. Yes, get in, Belinde. I want to say something to Eva.” And taking her arm he led her a few paces away into the park. “There’s one thing I especially want to tell you, Eva. I wouldn’t do so to your husband. He listens to nothing. Perhaps this trip of ours surprises you.…”
“Mamma said it was because of the convicts’ escape.”
“Rubbish! Do you think I should go away because of a few brainless convicts? To a miserable town like Berlin? Ha, ha! That looks like Horst-Heinz von Teschow! No! But have you heard anything about a
Frau Eva was silent.
“So he has!” crowed Herr von Teschow, delighted. “Well, well. Everyone’s as stupid as he must be. It’s all the same to me. Only I don’t understand
“Papa, the people ought to be warned!”
“What’s that? Believe an old man, my child—no one’s pleased if you try to interfere with his stupidities. There may be a bit of fighting—all right! They just can’t stop fighting; they don’t see that Messieurs Clemenceau and Poincare are laughing fit to split at us killing one another here. So, Evchen, you talk your husband round cunningly and go away, too! If you remain here you will have to take sides one way or the other and be dragged into the mess. Better go away.”
“He wants to join in, though,” she said softly.
“Have I got to tell you, girl, how to get round a man? Say that you have to go to Frankfurt this evening, appendicitis if you like. But go away!”
“Let him join in, Papa.”
The old man looked up. “I’ll be damned!” he cried astonished. “So it’s like that, is it? Well, Evchen, you’ve taken a damned long time about it. I always thought I had a clever daughter.…”
“Oh, Papa.”
“All right, then. Let him join in. For all I care, the car can be lost, too.” He stopped, alarmed by his own generosity. “Well, that’s not altogether necessary. You must try and arrange somehow, Evchen, that the car can’t be taken out tomorrow. Speak to Herr von Studmann. He’s pretty wide awake, certainly.”
“Oh, and Papa! you’re going away—to whom are we to pay the rent tomorrow?”
“Oh, the rent! Have you got it then? Well, leave it till I get back.”
