* * * * *
Tears streamed down Rita's face. He had laid bare his soul to her. She
remained for a long time lost in thought, considering what had best be
done. She did not conceal from herself that her marriage with Dr. Weilen
would encounter strong opposition; that disquiet, excitement, and
heartache would enter into her peaceful home when the relation between
her and Victor was known. Her father's opposition would be the easiest
to overcome, but her mother's? And Hugo's? And Elkish's? And the rest of
the relatives? And herself? Was there no inward protest against what
she was about to do? Now in these saddest of times, to tear herself away
from those who suffered and struggled?
An inexpressible fear possessed her. If only her mother were back at
home! Disquieting thoughts again besieged her. How happy she might have
been, to love a man like Dr. Weilen, to be loved by him! And now alarm
in her hopes, doubt in her wishes. She arose slowly and went to her
room, and locked the letter in her desk.
* * * * *
On the fourth of January Mrs. Benas returned. She was in good spirits,
and she had found her uncle hale and hearty. Her relatives in the little
town were already excited over the coming event, and busy planning and
preparing for it. This year _Pesach_ came early. The birthday, according
to Jewish reckoning, was on the twenty-sixth day of March, the first day
of the festival. She told them that in Rawitsch all arrangements had
been made for a celebration on a grand scale. Whatever could not be
obtained at Rawitsch was to be ordered from Berlin. Arrangements were
all the more complicated because of the Passover observances; but not
one of the peculiar customs was to be slighted; everything was to go on
as usual on this holiday. The great number of the family who would be
present necessitated especial provision for the Seder evening
celebration and the days succeeding. It was a mere question of expense,
and that need not be considered. On the contrary, it was a pleasant
feature, that the unusual event would take place amid unusual
circumstances, and instead of bread and cake and the every-day dishes,
unleavened bread would be eaten. The distinctive festival, as it has
survived in unchanged form, but added glamour to the ninetieth birthday
celebration of Uncle Leopold.
The family were gathered at their evening meal when Mrs. Benas reported
on her trip. With happy eagerness she told of her visit, how she found
everyone, and what were their plans.
"But, Fanny, dearest," teased her husband, "do you realize that you are
to feed sixty people on _Matzoth_, and for two entire days! Because, you
know, no one may leave before the evening of the second day of the
holiday."
"Everything has been taken into consideration," she answered
good-humoredly. "Do not worry, Joshua, you won't go hungry, and neither
will the others. All kinds of nice things, even the finest pastry can be
made out of Matzoth and Matzoth meal--cakes and tarts, and dipped
Matzoth and _Chrimsel_, the specialties of the season, and the rest of
the delicacies. You're no scorner of the good things of life, and you
will enjoy eating these dishes again."
"I'll enjoy the indigestion, too, I warrant. But you're right, dearest,
those fine dishes are as unforgettable as they are indigestible, and I
am quite ready to risk a Karlsbad Kur in May, in order to eat properly
in March."
"It will not be so bad as all that. We shall be careful to combine the
prescribed with the palatable. And oh! children, it will be beautiful; I
am happy about it now. It will be an occasion on which I shall gladly
show what and who we are--we Friedlaenders."
"Now, don't forget the rest of us," her husband bantered.
"The rest of you belong to us, too," she answered with emphasis. "That's
just what constitutes the greatness and the strength of the Jewish
family--that it grasps so firmly whatever is attached to it. You cannot
imagine who all are coming to this celebration in Rawitsch. Some
relatives have announced their coming whose names you hardly know, in
addition to those in direct descent from Rabbi Akiba. They are
descendants of the brothers and sisters of Rabbi Akiba. Then there will
be the relations, grandchildren and great-grandchildren of the sisters
and brothers of our grandfather. From the letters received in Rawitsch
they would not have been able to trace these relationships, if Uncle
Leopold's wonderful memory had not helped to place them. It would have
been best if we had had our 'family tree' there as a help in recalling
them."
Her husband was much amused at Mrs. Benas's pride and zeal. He had not
seen her in so happy a frame of mind since a long time. When she was
telling of her trip, he felt himself transplanted back to his youth. He
saw before his mind's eye the Seder in the house of his own parents,
with the consecration and devout importance at that time attached to the
various customs. And a deep emotion stirred this man, usually so cool
and skeptical.
"But, tell me, I should really like to know how they will manage. It is
no small matter; for instance, at the Seder, how many do you expect?"
"Well, pay attention, Joe, and you children, too," she turned to Rita
and Hugo, who had followed her report with interest. "I'll tell you the
whole programme. We expect from fifty to sixty persons. Of these the ten
or fifteen who are extremely orthodox will lodge with the relatives of
Uncle Leopold's wife. They are the sons and a daughter of his deceased
nephew. These three families are wealthy and keep a strictly orthodox
household, as do most in the town. So the pious ones can be comfortably
housed there, and need have no fears on the score of religious
observances. The rest will be lodged in the comfortable inn on the
market place. I looked at the rooms there, and they are quite possible,
allowing for the sort of place Rawitsch is."
"Well, no one will expect to be provided with the accommodations of the
'Kaiserhof' or the 'Palace Hotel.'"
"Certainly not," she laughed, "but there will be compensations. And now,
don't interrupt again, Joshua, else I will lose--"
"The thread of the strategical plans for the invasion of Rawitsch!"
"Joshua!" She assumed an injured air.
"But, my dear girl, don't you see how delighted I myself am with all
this? The most serious things can stand a bit of joking; but now I'll be
real quiet, as well-behaved as Hugo and Rita, and all good children when
they are having things explained to them. Well, _avanti_."
She hesitated an imperceptible moment, and then continued: "Some of the
most prominent families, among others the president of the congregation,
offered to entertain some of the guests. In an unusual case like this we
may avail ourselves of such invitations. They are the friends and
acquaintances of the Friedlaender family; and besides the whole
congregation considers--"
"_Khille_ is the proper term in this case," he laughingly suggested.
"Well, then, the whole Khille, yes, the whole town, considers this day
of honor to Uncle Leopold as its own."
She knew that much depth of feeling lay hidden in her husband's jests.
"These outsiders, too, are planning to confer especial honors upon him.
At all events, the freedom of the city will be extended to him, for his
philanthropy embraces all without distinction of religious belief."
"Then perhaps it might be appropriate for us to found 'The Leopold
Friedlaender Home for Widows and Orphans' on that day, too?"
She looked at him gratefully, and reached her hand across the table to
him. He had not spoken to her of this plan. Obeying a generous impulse
suggested by her words, he proposed it as something self-evident.
"With a capital of about one hundred thousand marks?"
"Joshua!" her voice trembled with deep excitement. Hugo and Rita
regarded their father in astonishment.
"O papa," the girl said softly in gratitude; while Hugo showed the pride
he felt in his father, who had decided upon the large sum without
hesitation, and then, as if it were a mere aside, Mr. Benas continued:
"The main thing is to assemble as large a number as possible in
Rawitsch, and to be sure that in respect to lodging everything is well
arranged. Now will follow the report of the commissariat: Mrs. Benas has
the floor."
His good humor infected his wife.
"Well, in regard to food. I shall send a capable Jewish cook, who knows
all about keeping _kosher_. There will be people to help her in
Rawitsch. A new table service will have to be bought,--that I attend
to, here, and also whatever is necessary to complete the silver
service."
"You will provide, then, as I judge, a complete Passover service for
sixty persons. And what is to become of all of it afterwards?"
"I have not thought of that yet. But it will not be wasted."
"Suppose each one were to receive his own service to take home as a
souvenir?"
She and the children laughed gayly.
"That would not be so bad."
"And for us quite worth the while, we should return with four new sets
of table service."
With an expression of content, he glanced at the costly silver service
on the tea-table at which they were seated.
"That's what I have been wishing for a long time; and if we are
fortunate, we may receive a soup tureen with it."
"You're a tease, Joshua. Why should there not be souvenirs of the day?"
"But not exactly silver forks and knives. It might lead to sad
complications." Then as if an idea had suddenly occurred to him, he
continued, "Do you know, Fanny, leave it all to me. What would you think
if I bought so beautiful and valuable a silver service that it might be
used after the festival for Rita's future household? It would be fine to
own silver dedicated on such an occasion. What do you think of it,
Rita?"
At her father's words Rita turned pale. "O papa!" she stammered. She
felt Hugo's eyes staring at her, and the blood rushed back to her
cheeks.
"You need not get white and red at the idea. The silver service might
suggest a groom, but no one forces you to accept him." He was amused at
his daughter's confusion. "At all events, you are of an age to justify
such thoughts. However, I am quite ready to save this silver treasure
for you in my safe just as long as you want.
"Joe, if you don't stop joking, we shall never finish. First I am the
butt, then Rita. But Rita," she turned to her, "you know your father,
and know he is never happier than when he's teasing us. You need not
feel embarrassed by what he says. But you really do look as if you had
never heard of a young girl of twenty marrying." While her mother was
talking, Rita tried to regain her self-possession.
"Mamma, it was only so curious,--the ideas that papa has--this silver."
"Five dozen; everything necessary for sixty persons. Quite complete.
Renaissance, rococo, or Empire ... perhaps the English style pleases you
better?" he asked in fun.
"Please, Joshua, do let the poor child alone. I should really like to
consider the matter seriously."
"Well, then, to be quite serious; the question of the arrangements for
the table is settled, and with that everything, I believe. You attend to
the dishes; they need not exactly be Limoges or old Vienna. The silver
I shall see about, with an idea to future use. I have no doubt, good
things will go into the dishes, and enough, too. At such family
festivals there is always enough and to spare. The fish and fowl of the
region are famous, and other things, too. The Matzoth will be baked
especially for us, and Gregorovius, of Unter den Linden, shall provide
the apples for the _Charoseth_. Everything will be excellently arranged,
I mean it seriously. And I am looking forward to the festival with much
pleasure. Whatever is intrusted to Fanny Benas, _nee_ Friedheim, of the
family of Akiba Friedlaender, can only be good and blessed."
The last words were spoken gravely, with deep feeling. He arose, took
his wife's hand and kissed it.
"But you have not told us about one thing--about the chief reason for
your going. What do the relatives think of Dr. Weilen's wish?"
The children awaited their mother's answer in breathless expectation.
Hugo's eyes were fastened with sullen looks on his mother's lips; Rita
looked shy and anxious. It seemed to her as though her heart had stopped
beating, and a choking sensation caught her at the throat.
"I am decidedly curious to know what was your success."
"He may come!"
The face and attitude of the Geheimrat showed decided interest.
"Really? How interesting! I was very doubtful of the issue."
But Hugo clenched his fist, and said vehemently: "Impossible! How could
they consent? He will spoil the holiness of the days. What does he want
there? What does he wish of us? A stranger!"
Rita started at her brother's words. His harsh, unfriendly attitude hurt
her; but she maintained her self-possession through the very resentment
they aroused; she suppressed the sigh that betokened her inner
struggle, and catching her breath, she said: "He is no stranger!"
"That seems to have been the opinion of the rest of the family," Mr.
Benas said to his son, "and it is really time, Hugo, that you put an end
to your childish and uncalled-for prejudice against Dr. Weilen. His
personality certainly gives no occasion for such feeling, and he does
not encroach upon your wishes and theories. He seems to me the last man
to stand in your way."
Rita gave her father a look of gratitude.
"He has no right to, and never shall have," Hugo answered angrily.
"You spoil everything with your intolerance. And now enough. I'd much
rather hear what the pious old man thinks in his mild wisdom than listen
to the opinions of a hard, callow youth in his folly."
Hugo ground his teeth, and refrained from answering.
"Well, Fanny, how did it go?"
"At first it seemed very strange to the various members of the family.
The oldest son of Uncle Leopold, with whom he is living, Cousin Isidor,
and his wife Hannah, could not at first comprehend what the question was
about. Cousin Isidor is already past seventy, and the horizon of his
wife does not extend beyond the line connecting her room and the
synagogue."
Involuntarily she glanced at Hugo before she continued: "Considering the
narrow existence they lead, it is not to be wondered at. The daughters
of Uncle Leopold, Friederike and Rebecca, and their husbands were also
not a little astonished. I found their children, a few of whom have
remained at home, equally unsympathetic; but all of them yielded without
objection to the authority of Uncle Leopold, who lives among them like a
patriarch. He said: 'If Fanny Benas, the daughter of my brother-in-law
Friedheim of Rogasen, and of my sister Henrietta, pleads for him, then
he is surely a good man. And my sister Goldine, his mother, was the
darling of my mother and my father, Zichrono livrochoh. She was named
after her grandmother, Golde Freidchen, the wife of our grandfather, the
Gaon Rabbi Akiba, _Zecher Zaddik livrochoh_. Goldine was the youngest of
us fourteen children, and the first to die; and if her son wishes to
come to me, the oldest and only one, who, _boruch ha-Shem_, is still
here, and if I have the fortune to survive until the day of the
celebration, then he shall come. He shall come with the rest of you, and
he shall rejoice with you. And I shall see the only child of my beloved
sister Goldine.' Aunt Riekel softly interrupted: 'But he is baptized!'
An indescribable look of pain moved his withered old face; but it lasted
only for a few moments, and then he answered in a mild voice: 'If he
wishes to come, he shall come. Perhaps Golde Freidchen has interceded
for her great-grandchild that he should find his way back to the fold.
For if a Jew is baptized, and he calls out in his hour of death, _Shema
Yisroel_, he shall be accounted a Jew! Shall I be more severe than _Shem
Yisborach_?' Profound humility and goodness were expressed in his words;
and no one contradicted him."
Mrs. Benas's recital was received in silence. She continued: "The person
expected is evidently not the Regierungsrat Dr. Weilen, but the son of
Aunt Goldine, the youngest sister of Uncle Leopold Friedlaender."
"And as such he'll come to them," said Rita, dreamily. She had listened
to her mother's tale as to a revelation. It seemed to her thirsting soul
like a miracle from far distant times, and the words forced themselves
to her lips involuntarily.
"Do you believe that, also?" asked Mr. Benas of his wife.
"I am convinced a man such as he is will strike the right note."
"So that is settled, too; and we may look forward to the celebration
without concern. You must let Dr. Weilen know the result of your
intercession."
"I shall write to him to-morrow."
* * * * *
On the following afternoon Mrs. Benas was sitting in her room, looking
meditatively before her, an expression of melancholy in her sweet,
refined face. Rita had just left her. Mother and daughter had
experienced an hour of profound agitation; Rita had sought her in order
to confess her love for Victor. Trembling and hesitating, she confided
in her mother as in a friend; how the feeling had been awakened on the
very first evening, when he referred to his loneliness, and how it had
gradually grown, the more she saw of him. His amiable, open-hearted
disposition had appealed to her; but above all his confiding intimacy
which had found so little encouragement. Hugo, in fact, had often
spurned him rudely. It had always pained her to see a man, by nature so
proud and gentlemanly, accept these rebuffs with patience and
forbearance. Once, when she tried to excuse Hugo, he had said: "I
understand his grief and indignation, and so I can forgive him. He must
have suffered much before he arrived at a state of such intense
resentment as to make him see an enemy in everyone with different
opinions from his own. But some day we may find a point of contact; and
until then his young anger shall not drive me away from the home of your
parents, a home that has grown dear to me,--and from you, Rita." Since
that time a secret understanding had existed between them. They had said
nothing to each other; but she knew that he grew dearer to her from day
to day. She was happy when he came, and missed him when he stayed away.
She knew that he loved her; she knew it through the delicate and subtle
sensitiveness that exalts the soul of a young girl in this phase of her
life, endows her with intuitions, and makes each slightest impulse rich
with meaning. Then came that sacred hour of the New Year's Day,--and his
letter. She confessed all to her mother, gradually overcoming the
timidity and fear with which she had begun her recital, until her
confession grew into a veritable paean of love. Her mother was deeply
moved. At the moment she had no thought of the obstacles in the way of
such a connection; she thought only of the happiness of her child. Then
she read Dr. Weilen's letter. Rita's eyes rested on her mother's face to
note the effect of his confessions. Mrs. Benas was profoundly touched.
At first it merely interested her greatly, then it stirred her emotions.
When she finished tears stood in her eyes. Rita, sobbing in mingled joy
and sorrow, sought refuge in her mother's arms.
What would be the outcome of it all? For the present Mrs. Benas could
give no answer. But she quieted her, lovingly caressed the cheeks wet
with streaming tears, and urged her to be calm. Nothing must be done
precipitately, particularly because of the coming celebration. Such
consideration was due to the old sage to whom this day was to be
dedicated. Whatsoever might disturb the harmony, or cause bad humor or
disquietude must be avoided. Surely she was not asking too much in
expressing the wish that until after the celebration no decision should
be reached. In the meantime, things must remain as they were; and she
was convinced, a man like Dr. Weilen, wise and prudent, would acquiesce.
"But he may visit us?" Rita anxiously questioned.
"Certainly; he may come as before."
"And shall I say nothing to him, mamma? Not speak to him of his letter?
Not of all I think and feel?"
"I can't prescribe as to that, dear child. But I trust your tact. The
private understanding that has existed between you two until now, I do
not want to disturb, and I cannot. But what I can ask of you is that you
give me time to consider, and that you in turn accept patiently the
terms demanded by circumstances. Do you promise me that, Rita?"
"Yes, mamma; but Dr. Weilen?"
"He will agree to whatever you want; and this evening you yourself shall
tell him. I expect him to dinner, and I asked him to come a little
earlier so as to have the chance to speak to him about the birthday
celebration. I shall let you report to him that he will be a welcome
guest there. And then you can tell him whatever your heart dictates; but
your heart must not forget that with us Jews feeling of the individual
for himself must give way to feeling for something else--for the family;
and that such considerations at times require personal sacrifices. These
sacrifices have made us great and strong, and have aroused in us the
capacity for self-surrender and self-sacrificing love. They are founded
upon the noble sentiments of piety and duty. The man who loves you will
understand; because very likely he unconsciously loves in you these
ethical principles under which you have grown up, and which have laid
their impress upon your personality, your culture, and your appearance."
Tenderly and proudly she looked at her daughter, in whom grace and
modesty, dignity and humility, were charmingly blended, whose longing
and love had not crowded out the feeling of obedience and compliance.
Rita kissed her mother's hand in respect and gratitude.
"And shall I not tell him that I have made you my confidante?"
"I leave that to you; only I should not like to be forced into an
understanding with him now. Leave everything as it was. You were content
then, and you will lose nothing by the arrangement now."
Rita withdrew. Mrs. Benas was left to her own thoughts, not free from
anxiety, yet full of hope for the happiness of her daughter.
* * * * *
The Benases and their guests, Dr. Weilen and Dr. Rosenfeld, were
spending the evening together most agreeably. The dinner had passed off
pleasantly. Mr. Benas was in a happy frame of mind, and his good spirits
dispelled the reserve and formality that at first prevailed. Dr. Weilen,
with his usual tact and good nature, promptly fell in with and abetted
the high spirits of his host. Mrs. Benas, too, after momentary
embarrassment, contributed in her refined and clever manner and with her
considerate hospitality, to the pleasure of the small circle. Hugo was
not so brusque as usual, owing to the benignant influence of his friend
Henry. Rita seemed transformed by her secret happiness. Modest and
reserved as she always was, her silence was not noticed. At times she
glanced at Victor's face; and when their eyes happened to meet in love
and perfect understanding, the blood rose precipitately to her cheeks.
They had had a talk before dinner was served, and Rita had given him the
news that he was to be welcomed at Uncle Leopold's celebration. He had
gathered her in his arms, and pressed a kiss upon her forehead. "My
wife, my dear wife," he said with emotion. She drew closer to him, but
made no answer. Such was their betrothal--not the passionate, stormy
love with which he had courted her on New Year's Day, but as though
devoutly consecrating her. And she was happy.
Then she told him of her conversation with her mother, and spoke of his
letter, which had given her a deep insight into his life, and had
brought consolation to her as well as to her mother, especially upon one
point. She hesitated as she said this, and he sealed her lips with a
kiss: "No, truly, I am no apostate! and my love and faith toward you
will last forever, no matter what may come. And you, Rita?"
"Nothing shall separate me from you," she answered simply but
resolutely, as if registering a vow.
Then they talked of her mother's request, and he readily consented to
respect it. "If I am certain of your love, then I can reconcile myself
to keeping this happiness to myself, until I can joyously proclaim it to
the whole world. I must consent to the conditions your mother imposes,
however trying they may be. At all events I shall see you; and we share
a secret that makes us happy, and brings us yet closer together, if
possible. When I look at you, my eyes will tell you that I love you, and
I shall know that you are mine. And our eyes will meet in kisses, and
every pressure of the hand will tell you of my hopes and longings. And
this secret language which only we two understand will be more eloquent
than spoken words."
Tears stood in her eyes. When he saw her before him, in her sweet purity
and virgin modesty, it seemed impossible to him to carry out his
self-denying resolutions. He drew her to him again, and said excitedly:
"And must I do without you, be with you and not enfold you, not kiss
you? Impossible! How long must it be?"