Dodsworth

fit myself to his so-different life. He’s let me fuss over his funny pathetic little flat⁠—oh, Sam, it just breaks my heart the way that flat reveals how poor the poor man is, that ought to be a great nobleman like his ancestors and I suppose would have been if it hadn’t been for the war which after all was not his fault. At first I was irritated by the complete sloppiness etc. etc. of his dear funny old servant then I thought maybe it was because she has such an elementary kitchen equipment, honestly it was about what you would expect in Kurt’s native wilds a frightful old coal stove that she has to stoke up all the time and the flues do not draw. I wanted to give him a jolly new electric range and he finally consented, though not readily, honestly⁠—please, pretty please, I hope this won’t hurt your feelings and as I say I know how generous you are, but you can’t have any idea how proud he is! But it was the cook who balked. No! She wouldn’t have a nice new electric range or an electric dish-washing machine! She preferred their own familiar things! She’s truly feudal⁠—isn’t that almost as hard as “truly rural” that we used to say in school!⁠—and so is Kurt. I think perhaps I realized that with a chauffeur, of course Kurt can’t afford his own chauffeur or even car yet though I do believe with his real genius for finance he will be a very rich man on his own inside another ten years but he can’t afford one now but whenever he can get him he uses an Austrian chauffeur at a hire garage near here that was a private in Kurt’s own regiment during the war and that really is almost practically like Kurt’s own chauffeur.

Well, at first do you know I was shocked by their chumminess. The chauffeur would tell the Herr Graf that the Herr Graf was wearing lovely new gloves today, and Kurt would ask him about his sweetheart and they would joke about it and Kurt would tell him he ought to make his sweetheart an honest woman and the chauffeur would waggle his finger in a knowing way that made me angry, and so one day I jumped on Kurt about it and my dear! the way he turned on me!

He said, “You are a bourgeoise! I am feudal! We who are feudal can be familiar with our servants because we know they cannot ever be impertinent!”

Sam laid down the letter, and it was of Edith and her way with servants that he was thinking.

I find myself settling, dear old man, no matter if we have apparently busted up for keeps and it is rather tragic if one suffers one’s self to think about it after the many, many happy years we did have together, didn’t we, but if we did break up, I do know you will go on being my friend and be glad to know that I do find myself settling down to my job of being a European. It hasn’t been easy and I can’t expect you to understand the pains, the almost agony I have given to it. Sometimes I am frankly lonely⁠—for whatever you may say about me to Tub and your dear Matey, oh, Sam, I suspect you talked about me to her in Paris far more than you ever admitted⁠—but I mean, whatever you may say about me, perhaps with a lot of justice, at least you must admit that one of my probably few virtues has been a rather rare frankness and honesty, and frankly at times I have been very lonely, have wished you were here so I could tousle your funny old thick hair. And sometimes I have been frightened by the spectacle of one lone femme Americaine facing all of censorious Europe. And sometimes⁠—you know his dear childish enthusiasm without very much discrimination⁠—I have been a little bored by some of Kurt’s Dear Old Friends. Yet I love and I think I am coming to really understand the thickness of European life. Our American life is so thin, so without tradition.

Sam laid down the letter and thought of the tradition of pioneers pushing to the westward, across the Alleghenies, through the forests of Kentucky and Tennessee, on to the bleeding plains of Kansas, on to Oregon and California, a religious procession, sleeping always in danger, never resting, and opening a new home for a hundred million people. But with no comment he read on:

I have learned, and I must say with some surprise which has probably been good for my little ego that Kurt thinks much more of a violinist or a chemist than of the nicest prince with the most quarteriest quarterings living. And⁠—for whatever you may think about me you must admit that I do understand the Europeans and I really am European!⁠—and do grasp it⁠—I haven’t had too much difficulty following him. Oh, my dear, do forgive me if this hurts you, but he is what the romantic novelists call my man! I have some stunning plans for him. I think I see the way, I can’t of course give away any details even to you, but I think I see a way of getting a certain great American bank to establish a branch in Berlin, and making Kurt the head of it.

You would probably be amused you certainly wouldn’t know your wild Fran how meek she is if you saw her letting Kurt boss her in all sorts of little things yes and I suppose big ones too but still he is so dear⁠—he always notices what I wear, honestly he bullies me really dreadfully about my clothes but at the same time is always willing to go shopping with me which you must admit, for all your gorgeous bigness you never were. Oh my dear I suppose it is unpardonable to