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 B A B ETT E 
 BOMBERLING'S 
 BRIDEGROOMS 
 

 :-3T iV ^'v ' -V V,V" *** ''u«.-' 
 
 ""^fi^^f-'f^- ■i^-!'^' ;iv»'^»''.'^ 
 
 B A B E T T E 
 BOMBERLING'S 
 BRIDEGROOMS 
 
 By 
 
 AUCE BEREND 
 
 Translated by MARGARET NOHOWEL 
 
 BONI AND LIVERIGHT 
 PUBLISHERS - NEW YORK 
 
''y:vrfr- 
 
 bae 
 
 Babette Bomberling's Bridegrooms 
 
 Copyrisfat, 1921 bjr 
 
 BONI and LIVERIGHT. INC. 
 
 Pkinted in tke United Steles at Amerio* 
 
 '"^'^ " • I ■i^i'^.i'^T^^^fr'iiiUi 
 

 
 B A B ETT E 
 BOMBERLING'S 
 BRIDEGROOMS 
 
trfT"^.' T^^^T^ "•-".;■ 
 
 •"?- ' : -■' i^r^; r-'T'^j^-' ■'r-^ 7?- . '; — ■ 7f^'F:F^'"twi^^^ 
 
|H»R»«^?S»^T¥8?^'"^ v;,-. i^.j«T: -.-•^5!:-:ri->i»s^^-"-^?^^KL^5B»*i.;r,-s™:ra'»^f';v;^ .r«?V.- >-^' - ■■, "■ V-lfvK^^-':", 
 
 BABETTE BOMBERLING'S 
 BRIDEGROOMS 
 
 Life is not so easy for us humans. The 
 dumbest animal fares much better. 
 
 When two lasses meet, each knows he has 
 met an ass. When two humans come face 
 to face, it is long until they can decide ex- 
 actly whom they are meeting. They can- 
 not even decide whether they ought to shake 
 hands. 
 
 For a mere name means Kttle. 
 
 Only by his profession can one good citi- 
 zen recognize lanother. We can feel the 
 social assurance that follows positive know- 
 ledge only after we have discovered friend 
 neighbor's economic status. 
 
 Innocently to believe nothing but the best 
 of our fellow-beings is the honorable thing 
 to do. It is even a duty. Thereby, however, 
 we often emcounter surprises. And sur- 
 prises are rarely pleasant. 
 
 None of us is delighted when our attract- 
 ive, rotund neighbor at the play (upon 
 
 9 
 
»!"?••?'«'•• T '- ,>'^-.rV'.-7r-'.^T.Tr'^-'>->' .■•■»-■•--■';••:.;'■•■-.; .^•■-^■•'-•■T--"' .■•■. *=■;>''";."; v.. "7 ' [V ■■ ■»• v«j.-^i jW'sjajlj.- ' 
 
 Bahette Bomherling 
 
 whom we had mentally conferred respect- 
 able retirement) suddenly introduces him- 
 self as a manufacturer of coffins, wholesale 
 and retail. Disenchanted, we now gaze upon 
 the elegance of his opulent, smiling help- 
 mate, who is the livest possible evidence of 
 the blossoming of his business. Even though 
 the amiable soul had not confided to us in 
 the intermission that his income increased 
 from year to year, we would have fathomed 
 as much. 
 
 It is our duty to hope that our neighbors' 
 honest efforts be rewarded with the most 
 bountiful harvest — indeed, life is not so 
 easy for us humans. 
 
 No one was better informed on these inti- 
 mate matters than Mrs. Anna Bomherling, 
 nee Kolpe. She, who had been the better 
 half of a casket maker for twenty-one years, 
 but who had still not learned to love her 
 husband's flourishing business. 
 
 Though he really deserved her love. 
 
 For she owed to him a mode of living 
 which far surpassed the maiden prayers 
 which she once had evolved in her father's 
 smithy, when the sparks flared and the rest- 
 
 10 
 
a¥!w^'yf^W»gj>t|(?KS.?^'?'W^^^ 
 
 Babette Bomberling 
 
 ive steeds of the village teamsters were 
 equipped with new shoes. 
 
 Not only was she today the possessor of 
 a genuine rabbit scarf, like the town clerk's 
 young wife in the past, but she warmed her- 
 self with sable and chinchilla. Not only had 
 she a handsome son; her Herman was even 
 a student and consorted with the elite ex- 
 clusively. Not only had she a, sweet daugh- 
 ter with blond curls entwined with blue rib- 
 bons; her Babette was even so delicate, 
 graceful and decorous that old Father 
 Kolpe would most certainly have ordered 
 his daughter to sweep out the smithy three 
 times before so lofty a lady might be per- 
 niiftted to cross his threshold. 
 
 Anna also had a good, affectionate hus- 
 band who stayed away from home all day; 
 and still she was not happy. 
 
 And then experience does not make more 
 palatable the sensation of noticing con-stant- 
 ly that every acquaintance, as soon as he 
 sets eyes on you, seems to be reminded of 
 something distasteful. There is a sickly 
 feeling when strangers, having exhumed 
 
 11 
 
'^^-fry^^f:^ 
 
 Babette Bomherling 
 
 your identity, start as though they were 
 lacerated slightly by an invisible needle. 
 
 And the worst of it was that secretly 
 Anna did not blame these people. Years 
 bring experience. The older she grew, the 
 better she understood others. 
 
 On gray, damp days, when she would sit 
 in her perfectly warm, comfortable room, 
 huddled together, fearing that gout and old 
 age were coming over her, her husband 
 would come home, fresh and hilarious, pinch 
 her cheek and say : "Well, old girl, business 
 is great!" 
 
 And on the way home from a subscrip- 
 tion performance of one of those classical 
 dramas in which tihe curtain falls upon a 
 pile of corpses, when Bomherling, happy 
 that the thing was over, would grow a bit 
 sentimental, she no longer would giggle as 
 in the past, but would give him a withering 
 look for his lack of fine feeling and say: 
 
 "Let me alone. You're in league with 
 the dead!" 
 
 Now, this was not quite accurate. For, 
 in spite of his business, August Bomherling 
 
 12 
 
»fT-"'W?'™'[ •■'^ -■ r-r^^ . .'3; - "i'.v -'^7-'^T'li''^-:'-^'<lj*^*'.:;f^]4, -. ■ _^s^^'^^^'. ^' »-' -r^- jy- 
 
 Babette BomherUng 
 
 had not as yet actually seen a single corpse. 
 That would have been as disagreeable to 
 him as it is to every other human being. 
 
 Above all, there was nothing morbid 
 about him. On the contrary. In his busi- 
 ness he was conspicuous not only for his 
 restless energy, but for the joviality which 
 is a concomitant of self -righteousness and 
 the regularity of all the functionings of the 
 body. 
 
 No one left his store whom Bomberling 
 did not himself accompany to the door and 
 assure with a bow: 
 
 "It was indeed a pleasure; let me have 
 the honor to serve you again." 
 
 But, unfortunately, a happy married ex- 
 istence can not be brought about by these 
 virtues of industry and business honor. 
 
 August Bomberling soon noticed that at 
 home he could not speak of the business 
 matters which lay closest to his heart and 
 still keep the family peace. And, more than 
 anything else, he wanted peace. Therefore, 
 he learned to remain diplomatically silent. 
 This was not always a simple matter in the 
 first years of his marriage; for friend wife 
 
 13 
 
s'Tf^" 
 
 -.■'"/>' ■^'^.' T -i • , . .• ryr^;^^--V^'A* 
 
 Babette BomherUng 
 
 soon began to dress herself more in keeping 
 with the fashion journals from Paris than 
 in accord with the state of Bomberling's 
 books of account. But he loved his wife, 
 and that helped some. 
 
 Nothing was disagreeable to him. 
 
 He could not understand what there was 
 to object to in his business, which was 
 honest and necessary. 
 
 He had come by it in the most natural 
 way in the world. When his masterpiece 
 as a carpenter was finished, he had looked 
 down life's perspective for the wiay that 
 would carry him forward most quickly. He 
 sat on the sill of the workshop and sought 
 to visualize the most staple article of his 
 trade. Was there not something that every- 
 one absolutely required, whether he would 
 or no? 
 
 Many sat at a table. A wardrobe is sel- 
 dom the property of one alone, and not 
 everyone owns a bed. He himself had had 
 to share his own with two small brothers. 
 
 A whistle burst from his lips — a different 
 kind of bed had flashed before him. In this 
 case there was no sharing. The poorest 
 
 14 
 
 ■^:L^ 
 
^4;i,;,-.Ji.|jlilJ|i!iMlJI!,VlJi-,yJJ!^i!^^^^^ 
 
 Bahette Bomherling 
 
 dunce got one for himself alone. He 
 thought further. The longer he thought 
 over the idea the more advantages occurred 
 to him. 
 
 Here was an article that could not be ex- 
 changed. No bothersome repairing. No 
 change in fashions. No smiling exit to 
 "Think it over" after long deliberation. 
 There was no use wriggling, you had to 
 buy. 
 
 The tunes he whistled became more gay, 
 while his thoughts danced. Grinning, he 
 waved to slim, blond Anna Kolpe across 
 the way. She was peeling potatoes in the 
 house next to the smithy. 
 
 That evening he went to the blacksmith 
 and confided his plans to him. He wished 
 to start a coffin factory and to come for 
 Anna when the business was going. Would 
 the blacksmith risk a couple of thousa.nd? 
 Its success was a foregone conclusion and he 
 enimierated the advantages of his practic- 
 able article on his fingers. 
 
 First: Everyone must have one, whether 
 he wants one or not. Secondly: Exchange 
 impossible. Thirdly: Repairs^here the 
 
 15 
 

 Babette Bomherling 
 
 smith interrupted that he would believe him 
 without further details. He thought they 
 had no such need in the village. With that 
 he glanced over his shoulder, as one who 
 feels a presence behind him. Such a thing 
 was for the cities. He should surely have 
 Anna if he succeeded. But for the thou- 
 sands he must look elsewhere. Everything 
 with moderation. 
 
 Bomherling thanked him, happy that he 
 should have Anna if he made good, and 
 rollicked off to his boss. 
 
 When he heard the newfangled idea of 
 his pupil, he gave him the few thousand. 
 
 These young carpenter- journeymen, he 
 decided, would be best disposed of in the 
 city which was large and far away. He 
 hked no competition. 
 
 Many horseshoes had been molded be- 
 fore Bomherling returned home. 
 
 Anna saw that August's moustache was 
 tliick and blond and his eyes blue and clear. 
 She said to herself that he hved in the city 
 where one was in the midst of hfe. What 
 did she care about his stupid business, which 
 was only for the dead. 
 
 16 
 
?l5fBP|IPWllWlWfli'*.»'-7!'i^™^^'<^^ 
 
 Babette Bomberling 
 
 The wedding came. The following day 
 they rode joyously off to the great city, the 
 bridal-wreath in a round cake-box. Their 
 baggage consisted of many boxes filled 
 with new linen, a horseshoe embroidered 
 into each piece for good luck. The little 
 flat was four flights up, and slender Anna 
 was proud of the large stretch of city she 
 could see from her window. 
 
 Now this was all long past. With every 
 turn of the dial the city had grown and the 
 business of Bomberling's factory had kept 
 step. Their apartment was on the smartest 
 floor now, and they had become a part of the 
 great metropohs. Even from a distance 
 their clothes as well as their taut rotundity 
 made it perceptible that they were people of 
 affairs. 
 
 Anna Bomberhng, the Madam now, had 
 not the faintest recollection that one could 
 expect the blessed, golden sun to dry red 
 flannel drawers, (washed with green soap), 
 upon an ordinary garden fence. 
 
 ^ 4> 1^ ^£ ^^ 
 
 Seeing is believing. 
 
 17 
 
Bdbette Bomherling 
 
 And in the home the Bomherlings now 
 occupied, when their marriage was nearing 
 the quarter century, there was nothing to 
 remind one of smithy or carpentershop. 
 
 Even the old family portraits had dis- 
 appeared, with their wide black frames of 
 cofiin-trimming rests from the factory. 
 
 Mrs. Bomherling had declared that she 
 couldn't stand the old faces any longer and 
 as usual Bomherling had acquiesced. It 
 was indifferent to him what hung upon the 
 wall. Only the large crayon drawings of 
 his and Anna's parents had not gone to the 
 attic, but together with a lot of flat-irons, 
 decorated the laundry. 
 
 The decorator, who had contracted to do 
 over the living-room in the height of taste, 
 had assured them that most of his patrons 
 were doing this. And he understood his 
 business. He justly called himself "Spe- 
 cialist in Home-Culture". 
 
 The front rooihs of BomberUng's apart- 
 ment had become an example of modem 
 art. They veritably breathed a dignified 
 exclusiveness with their scent of the pre- 
 
 18 
 
r" "■''pyxJ^S'- ■'«'7>' v 
 
 Bahette BomberUng 
 
 vailing fashionable perfume to which was 
 always discreetly axlded the fragrant gravy- 
 smell of a huge roast. 
 
 Already in the hall lay a handsome Per- 
 sian carpet that was genuine. Every visitor 
 to whom Mrs. Bomberling whispered the 
 price of this piece jumped as though some- 
 one had stepped on his little toe. 
 
 This overwhelming effect proved to Mrs. 
 Bomberling that repression is rewarded. 
 For she had not wanted the Persian carpet 
 at all. She did not want to spend so much 
 for an old rag full of Turkish vermin. She 
 had thought an imitation would be cheaper 
 and cleaner, and still give the same effect. 
 
 But the "specialist in good taste" had en- 
 treated, and thrown up his hands — hands 
 with blood-blistered finger-tips, for even the 
 most clever of us cannot always hit a nail 
 on the head. With melancholy in his small, 
 inflamed eyes, he had declared to Madam 
 that she ought to have a real Oriental rug 
 in the hallway. In the rear and in the 
 rooms which they occupied they might have 
 have as many imitations as they wished. 
 Noblesse oblige. 
 
 19 
 
Babette Bomherling 
 
 And Mrs. Bomberling had yielded; for 
 she was not building this home in such 
 grand style for pleasure. She had a set 
 purpose. 
 
 Three period-perfect rooms adjoined the 
 hall. The furniture in the drawing-room 
 was from an old English castle. A Latin 
 book, bound in old pigskin, always lay open 
 on the sill of the wide bay-window. On the 
 wall hung an old English engraving, de- 
 picting a formal garden in which a smiling 
 young man was slipping an engagement ring 
 upon the finger of a smiling girl of good 
 family. Mrs. Bomberling exchanged a 
 smile with this picture whenever she came 
 through this pompous room, with its yellow 
 silk curtains always drawn. 
 
 Otherwise she had much trouble with this 
 fine salon. The maids could not under- 
 stand that the Latin book must lie open on 
 the beautifully carved sill. They slammed 
 it shut every time they dusted, although 
 they had been with the most distinguished 
 families. 
 
 The drawing-room led into a tea-room. 
 The principal attraction of that was the tea- 
 
 20 
 
 -■••=* 
 
F^' 
 
 Babette Bomberling 
 
 cup collection of a Russian countess. There 
 was a czar, or at least a grand duke, on 
 every delicately enameled shell. 
 
 "If I only knew why we need all this I" 
 Bomberling exclaimed, when they led him 
 through the completed splendor of his home 
 the first time. Anna did not answer. She 
 only smiled upon the engraved pair on the 
 wall. 
 
 Past the glass-encased cups, and between 
 two piUars was the music room. This was 
 dominated by the large grand piano at 
 which Babette practiced. Looking like a 
 huge and very superior candy box, upon a 
 piece of brocade, rested the shiny mahogany 
 case of Herman's violin. 
 
 Babette and Herman had inherited no 
 musical talents. 
 
 Although it seemed superfluous to Anna, 
 Bomberling still confessed quite candidly to 
 everyone, that to him music was a noise like 
 every other. Also that he preferred a loco- 
 motive whistle to a violin solo because it 
 was shorter. 
 
 Anna, however, was deeply moved by 
 every phonograph record. 
 
 21 
 
-^nrearr .V -•--. • ■ ,- . . ■.■....•■. . ■ ■ ■ "■'rr''--f. 
 
 Babette Bomherling 
 
 Besides, she knew that music is fashion- 
 able. Hence Babette played the piano and 
 Herman fiddled. 
 
 So the music-room really belonged to the 
 part of the house used by the family. That 
 was evident too in the many flowers in vases 
 all about; for Babette loved flowers and 
 bought them wherever she saw them. 
 Each week she brought new favorite blos- 
 soms which she declared the most lovely in 
 the world, worn at her belt and ^on her 
 jacket, and arranged in all the family 
 rooms. Especially in her own. Here the 
 hands of the decorating artist had not been 
 permitted to disturb the many flowers midst 
 the ivory-enameled furniture, the delicate 
 curtains, bright mirrors and photographs of 
 famous men. 
 
 Nor had the decorator been allowed in the 
 adjoining room. Here Herman wished to 
 live in his own' disorder of books and papers, 
 pipes, ink-wells, rapiers and a galaxy of 
 heads of beautiful women. 
 
 With a long pipe dangling from his 
 mouth and a tiny college-cap on his thick, 
 blond mop, he had filled the frame of his 
 
 22 
 

 Babette Bomherling 
 
 door with his broad shoulders against the 
 approaching specialist, and had notified him 
 that all "speciahsts in good taste" were pro- 
 hibited. Here the coining generation was 
 already dominating. 
 
 And Babette and he laughed a long 
 and merry duet. With quick strides the 
 cutaway of the speciaHst disappeared at the 
 end of the corridor. His shiny back mirrored 
 smartly controlled rage. 
 
 Strange to say, with a deprecating smile, 
 Mrs. Bomherling had also begged that the 
 redecorating of the conjugal bedroom be 
 left to her. 
 
 Nothing is beautiful of itself, only custom 
 and usage make it so. 
 
 There are various well-loved comforts, 
 which we will not sacrifice to modern life; 
 Anna desired one room in which she might 
 really feel at home. 
 
 The decorating artist had expounded to 
 her in vain that a canopy bed was absolutely 
 grotesque and antiquated, and that the fat, 
 gilded angel floating over their beds was 
 utterly inartistic and even anatomically 
 deficient. 
 
 23 
 
 hiibfiK.. 
 
Bahette Bomherling 
 
 Mrs. Bomberling remained firm. Even 
 art must have its limits. 
 
 August had carved and gilded this angel 
 for her in the long ago. She had always 
 
 thought Herman resembled him a bit. 
 
 ^ # # # 4» 
 
 The pleasant large dining-room lay as a 
 friendly intermediary between this zone of 
 personal atmosphere and that of silent, cul- 
 tivated splendor. 
 
 This room saw all the Bomberlings 
 assembled most frequently. Oak furniture 
 and leather chairs made it comfortable. The 
 big grandfather's clock ticked firmly and 
 decidedly in the corner. In the window a 
 canary hopped in his cage. Mrs. Bomber- 
 Hng was very proud that Herman had 
 named it Napoleon. 
 
 People are known by the company they 
 keep. 
 
 There was dignity in her manner when 
 she said to the maid, "Give Napoleon fresh 
 seed." 
 
 A large still life hung on the wall. A 
 gorgeous picture. It was not only painted 
 by a world famous artist, but represented 
 
 24 
 
.T'-.T'^e ■ 
 
 Bahette Bomherling 
 
 Si genuine pate-de-fois-gras de Strasbourg 
 surrounded by oysters, red lobsters, bunches 
 of fresh asparagus and a bouquet of selected 
 roses. 
 
 The art decorator had kindly called Mrs. 
 Bomberling's attention to this picture, "to 
 be had for a song from the estate of a 
 banker." 
 
 Mrs. Bomberling had really thought it 
 very expensive. She figured that the artist 
 must have painted it at a season when these 
 delicacies are particularly high. But she 
 could not tear herself away from it. So it 
 was bought and hung facing the dining- 
 table. There it was surely appropriate. 
 For art should. be an inspiration. 
 
 Bomberling was always the first to enter 
 this friendly chamber, after the breakfast 
 table was set. He was an early riser, and 
 each morning enjoyed anew the coziness of 
 a brief hour alone. 
 
 First he would go to the window and look 
 at the weather, which he always found fair. 
 Then he would force a very round finger 
 into the cage and beckon Napoleon, whom 
 he called simply "Dicky" so early in the 
 
 25 
 
' .-S" 
 
 Bahette Bomherling 
 
 morning. And then the door would open, 
 the maid with fresh cap and apron would 
 enter, bidding a pleasant good-moming and 
 set the bright coflFee-pot upon the n-eatly set 
 table. 
 
 The fragrance of coffee radiates comfort 
 like sunshine. 
 
 Beaming, Bomberhng sat down and fast- 
 ened his little breakfast napkin in his collar, 
 which, like a white ring, seemed to wedge 
 his full neck to his double chin. Then he 
 took up his knife for the attack. 
 
 Formerly, when the children were small, 
 he had often captured them for a merry 
 breakfast party. He had set Babette upon 
 his knee and stroked her fair, silky hair, had 
 laid her little white fingers on the broad 
 back of his hairy hand, and had always 
 marveled anew how daintily such little 
 maids are formed. Or he had put fat Her- 
 man on his strong back and had run around 
 the table. This they had called their merry- 
 go-round. 
 
 But now the children were grown up and 
 spoke learnedly. And he did not Uke being 
 embarrassed when he ate. 
 
 26 
 
Babette BomberUng 
 
 With a sure hand, Bomberling grasped 
 his knife, carved a flat slice off the sausage 
 and cut open his buns. Before combining 
 bread and sausage, he would sip his strong 
 coffee with audible enjoyment. Warming 
 pleasantly, the hot fluid followed its dark 
 course. 
 
 Our well being, however, does not de- 
 pend entirely upon our own exertions. 
 
 Just as Bomberling pleasantly warmed 
 within and without, chewing contentedly, 
 was studying the illustration of the tomb of 
 a late millionaire in his paper, the door in 
 back of him opened, and wife Anna entered, 
 in a pale blue morning gown, but without 
 the greater part of her modern head-dress. 
 She took her place opposite Bomberling 
 and attacked her breakfast, with a remark- 
 able lot of chatter and gossip. Frequently 
 she cleared her throat loudly and even 
 tapped her spoon against the cup as though 
 she were about to deliver an official address. 
 But Bomberling's attention remained fixed 
 on miUionaires' tombs and liversausage. 
 
 Even to her precisely intoned, "October 
 is upon us, my dear August 1" he did not 
 
 2T 
 
Babette Bomherling 
 
 turn his head, but riveted to his paper, said, 
 between mouthfuls that he had sent the rent 
 from his office. 
 
 We neglect to take note of the obvious. 
 The pale blue shoulders shrugged disdain- 
 fully, and Anna observed that she had not 
 gotten up so early to hear that. 
 
 Bomherling hastily laid down his napkin 
 and lit his morning cigar. He was con- 
 vinced that Anna would, as usual when 
 they were alone for a moment, relate with 
 relentless exactitude all she had had to en- 
 dure all these years as the wife of a coffin 
 manufacturer, and that she would not rest 
 until she had helped her children into a 
 higher social sphere. 
 
 Therefore he hurriedly brushed the 
 crumbs off the round hill of his vest, across 
 which his heavy gold watch-chain meandered, 
 saying "My dear old thing, I must un- 
 fortunately leave immediately. If you have 
 anything more to tell me, 'phone. You 
 know, 8182." 
 
 He pinched Anna's right cheek, as was 
 his habit, and hastened to escape from the 
 room. 
 
 28 
 
li|^i^.wiii|'>'. if^v TyTTv'r^-osTisflr^;" j^"^?r^ ' j'^-fp- .!.-> i. * v ^' ?^7!v77. i^^^'KtP^' •^'T*'?^ 
 
 Babette BomherUng 
 
 But a married man is rarely his own 
 master. 
 
 "I must speak with you," Anna said 
 quietly and firmly. 
 
 Anna conmienced. But she did not tarry 
 long upon the tortures she had endured 
 through Bomberling's profession. She 
 spoke of Babette. With an anxious tone 
 she reminded her husband that the child 
 would be seventeen this October, and before 
 Bomberling had been able to declare him- 
 self ready to make any gift, she had told 
 him earnestly that many girls of good 
 family are engaged at this age. Here she 
 gasped for breath and Bomberhng inter- 
 polated that a girl must wait until the right 
 man comes along. 
 
 With this he had again timied to go, for 
 he did not know that the conversation was 
 just beginning. 
 
 Without having taken note of his words, 
 Anna spoke on and on, without stopping 
 or faltering. She told Bomberling that 
 parents must care for the happiness and 
 futm-e of their daughters. That in better 
 
 29 
 
'^.:'-'/7tJ3^,j!C 
 
 Babette Bomherling 
 
 circles this was considered one of the first 
 duties of human nature. 
 
 Napoleon warbled gaily in his cage, and 
 Anna interrupted herself, screaming, "Shut 
 up. Napoleon I" 
 
 But the conjugal conversation became 
 more violent. Occasionally Anna lost her 
 breath, ajid Bomherling got a chance; to 
 answer back. 
 
 Until finally Anna burst out with the 
 name and income of a noted attorney. 
 
 After a sudden silence, BomberUng quiet 
 and abashed, asked "Does she love him?" 
 
 "Why, she does not know him yet," said 
 Anna, now truly upset and out of patience 
 with her husband's dullness. 
 
 She poured eau-de-cologne on her hand- 
 kerchief and touched her forehead with it, 
 breathing audibly. 
 
 This turn to the conversation was not 
 foreign to Bomherling. He sighed with re- 
 lief, relit his cigar, which had gone out dur- 
 ing the heated conversation, and paced the 
 carpet. Then a bell sounded. 
 
 For city people the door-bell is the voice 
 of Fate. It evidently was coming to the 
 
 30 
 
Bahette Bomherling 
 
 rescue of Bomberling. Mrs. Bomberling 
 twitched, picked up her belongings without 
 hesitation and disappeared. 
 
 Bomberling was not a man to lose a mo- 
 ment. In the next instant he had gone 
 through the other door. 
 
 In the corridor he found his nephew Paul, 
 vainly trying to remove his hat, his arms full 
 of flowers. 
 
 Bomberling pulled out his watch. 
 
 "Is it not past oflice time, my boy?" he 
 asked. 
 
 Paul assented, but on the way to the fac- 
 tory he had seen these flowers in a shop. 
 Only yesterday Babette had bemoaned that 
 no more lilies-of-the-valley were to be 
 found, so he had wanted to bring her these 
 quickly. 
 
 "Well, do it, and then come after me," 
 said Bomberling. 
 
 With that the door fell shut after him. 
 He was not going to risk his freedom again. 
 
 While a taxi was carrying him swiftly 
 and cleverly through the intricate mazes of 
 streets and squares, where the fresh day's 
 
 81 
 
Bahette BomherUng 
 
 work was stirring and rushing forward, the 
 old man pondered on the happy solution of 
 all, if only Babette and Paul would unite. 
 
 The very year of Babette's birth, ten- 
 year old Paul had come to him as the only 
 heritage of the estate of an uncle, whom all 
 the family had always looked upon as 
 wealthy. 
 
 But testaments harbor more wondrous 
 things than do other secrets. When the 
 uncle died, he left his sorrowing relatives 
 nothing but the boy. The others firmly de- 
 clined this inheritance. Good August 
 accepted. All smiled at this foolishness, for 
 his business was small then, and he should 
 have had enough to do caring for his own 
 children. 
 
 But our pieces of foolishness are often the 
 most brilliant strokes of our lives. Since 
 some time "now Paul had been his only 
 confidential man in the management of the 
 large mill, which was growing ceaselessly, 
 and ever making further demands on their 
 thought and ingenuity. 
 
 "For the best laid plans " He had 
 
 thought, that that which was not modem, 
 
 32 
 
. 'S^'---;-*"^- '. 
 
 i^-*"Y,\'"'- 
 
 Babette BomherUng 
 
 could never become unmodem. That had 
 been a mistake. Periods had been discov- 
 ered. Now everything must be of a stated 
 period. You must be very fastidious. Cer- 
 tain lines in the carving of the wood. 
 Artistically hammered armature and trim- 
 mings of wrought iron., Cremation was be- 
 coming more modem and popular. One 
 had to oflPer tastefuUy decorated urns. 
 
 When Paul showed a talent for drawing, 
 Bomberhng had sent him to an art school. 
 
 He was now his best designer and direct- 
 ed the carving studios of the factory. And 
 that was excellent. For Bomberling, who 
 could reckon figures like a Secretary of Fi- 
 nance, was as deficient in art as in music. 
 He could not see why a curlicue should be 
 prettier to the right than to the left. People 
 did choose the most ridiculous ways of com- 
 plicating their lives. 
 
 He frowned. He threw the cigar butt 
 angrily out of the taxi window. In a metrop- 
 olis there is a use for everything. A mes- 
 senger boy had caught it up and put it in 
 his mouth. B.omberling had to laugh. 
 Wholesome folks do not let the unpleasant 
 
 33 
 

 Bahette BomherUng 
 
 depress them. When the motor drew up to 
 the curb, Bomberling was more comfort- 
 able, and when he found a series of samples 
 of the loveliest ebony on his desk, he had 
 recovered his usual good humor. 
 
 In the meantime Paul waited for Ba- 
 bette. 
 
 As he was a close relative of the family, 
 the maid had led him into the dining-room, 
 and not into the "region of culture." Here 
 there was no one. Only Napoleon trilling 
 his morning song. The loud duet of the 
 domestic squabble had excited and aroused 
 him to unusual efforts. 
 
 Paul looked earnestly at the Uttle ball of 
 yellow feathers that was puffing itself out 
 at his approach, and thought: "You lucky, 
 lucky birdl You see her every day." 
 
 No one came. Paul went to the side- 
 board to catch his reflection in the upright 
 silver platter. He did not recollect what 
 sort of necktie he had put on that morning. 
 When he had left his rooms he had not 
 dreamt that he would see Babette that day. 
 But the silly platter belittled him ri- 
 
 t4 
 
'^5w?«'ri'\'*^''v.*v' ■ ■-' '• ■■ ?^* -'^i • '. ;•• "- . "■■. ff; 7 ,?'^^-'Tf'«>r7«*^^ 
 
 Babette Bomherling 
 
 diculously, and his scarf was only an indis- 
 tinguishable blur. 
 
 While Paul was trying to see himself in 
 the window pane, he was disturbed. Babette 
 had entered. Her blond hair curved 
 smoothly over hier small head and glistened 
 in two big puffs over her ears. A black- 
 velvet frock simply cut and open at the 
 neck, enhanced her young beauty. 
 
 Babette had dressed with particular care 
 this morning, she had great plans for the 
 day. 
 
 Smiling she asked Paul what had brought 
 him at such an unearthly hour; then she 
 spied the flowers and rushed past him to 
 the table. 
 
 "How lovely! I've been dreaming of 
 lilies-of-the-valley all night." 
 
 Grasping a bunch of the white blossoms 
 and bright green leaves she hurried towards 
 her room. 
 
 At the door she reflected. Beaming on 
 Paul, she said that he must really not 
 think of waiting till her return, for she 
 knew he must go to the mill. And then dis- 
 appeared with a friendly nod. 
 
 35 
 
]■ *• 
 
 Bahette Bomherling 
 
 Paul went out slowly. He might have 
 put his hat on much more quickly, because 
 his arms were empty now. 
 
 « * « « « 
 
 When Babette returned, she poured her- 
 self a little coffee and bit into a brown bun, 
 standing. Munching, she wandered back 
 and forth, arranging her flowers. 
 
 She had never had the patience to sit 
 down formally for a meal in the morning, 
 and especially not today. 
 
 She decided to call on the famous actor, 
 who as Komeo and Hamlet, as Don Carlos 
 and Faust, hung over her dresser and all 
 around her mirror. She wanted to ask him 
 for his autograph. Did he care for blondes? 
 She had heard that he was a Southerner. 
 During her ItaUan lessons she had to think 
 of him continually. lo famo — I love you. 
 
 Caught red-handed, she was startled. 
 Herman had entered the room and slumped 
 into his chair. 
 
 "Father among his coffins already?" he 
 asked, and yawned. 
 
 Babette came back inquiring whether his 
 
 86 
 
Bahette BomherUng 
 
 early rising meant that he was possibly 
 going to college? 
 
 "Nonsense. Hockey," grumbled Herman, 
 yawning again, and rang for warm water. 
 
 Babette gathered the remaining flowers, 
 nodded cordially to her brother and skipped 
 out. She had to go to her lesson with Miss 
 Grisham. Before leaving the apartment she 
 looked for her mother. 
 
 Distrust is a housewife's virtue. Mrs. 
 Bomberling sat in the kitchen and observed 
 the cooking of the quince jam through her 
 lorgnette. 
 
 Babette gave her a hearty kiss and 
 thought tenderly: "How proud the dear 
 soul would be if she were the mother-in-law 
 of the most famous actor I" 
 
 The mother caressed the daughter's soft 
 cheek, and thought, "My little lamb, the 
 wife of the attorney-general." 
 
 Hope has its various aspects 
 
 A pictiu'e of her Romeo between her 
 books and music, Babette soon entered Miss 
 Grisham's class room with a merry "Good 
 morning" and a hurried glance of under- 
 
 87 
 
'■fl^S^J^WT-T-.- « . •r- ' •: T— - ■■■■"'^.-r';*: •■^■™'r-t-~v- '•.-»- , -■'-r«-..,"i- • v-. 7^r.-;r- -'lfi--..•.-^;,■TJ5l;;•;,-f,.^^(^j^!^W^Jrr^y»•■^^ 
 
 ■,y"Y^ ■;""'; ji^'^vre'?^ 
 
 Babette BomberUng 
 
 standing with her dearest chum Hilda 
 Wagner. Well then, today at last I 
 
 Then lessons commenced. Even girls 
 must he fitted out for their campaigns. Miss 
 Grisham taught young ladies the language, 
 history and art of Italy, that they might 
 enjoy their honeymoon. The girls giggled 
 a great deal. They laughed at the simplest 
 phrases. 
 
 "Waiter, can this room be locked?" was 
 to be translated, but only the squeaks of 
 suppressed laughter could be heard. 
 
 Angrily Miss Grisham looked into the 
 blue eyes and smooth faces and nervously 
 turned to the next grammar lesson. With 
 her shrill old-maid's treble, she now cried: 
 
 "You need not waken us in the morning." 
 
 This did not seem suitable either. The 
 squeaks and giggles started again. 
 
 But even the longest hour has not more 
 than sixty minutes. A bell signaled at last. 
 The books slammed shut. 
 
 This was the only moment in the day that 
 Miss Grisham smiled. 
 
 Arm in arm Babette and Hilda went 
 through the streets. They were friends 
 
 88 
 
;vYvr'-=iTv^'''=w. ■•-:,• 
 
 Babette Bomherling 
 
 J 
 
 since they had met at Miss Grisham's. The 
 fundamentals of all friendship united them. 
 They were mutually envious and they pitied 
 one another. 
 
 Babette admired Hilda because her 
 father held a high government post, and her 
 brother was an officer, and she was sorry for 
 her twenty-two years and utter lack of 
 beauty. Hilda pitied Babette because her 
 father had that horrible and uncanny fac- 
 tory, and because she was not of good 
 family. But she envied her blond hair, 
 which made people turn on the street, and 
 perhaps even more — her bright and cozy 
 room. 
 
 Ever since Hilda could remember, the 
 apartment of her parents had been shrinking. 
 Only the reception rooms had continued. 
 
 Hilda slept on a folding couch in the 
 dining-room, and her meager possessions, 
 ribbons, veils, lace collars and postcards 
 were secreted in a drawer in the bathroom, 
 that served as her dressing-room. She 
 hadn't a spot she could call her own. 
 
 For this reason she secretly longed to 
 marry. • 
 
 39 
 
■ /*.'..- 'I'^tfr-t If,. 
 
 Babette BomherUng 
 
 Babette and Hilda were talking excited- 
 ly about the wonderful actor, to whose 
 apartment they were now going. They 
 stopped at every bill-board to read his name 
 on the theater posters. Babette felt that 
 his fame concerned her. In a few moments 
 she would be in his presence. 
 
 Hilda was to wait outside. She offered 
 to accompany her, but Babette would not 
 accept this proof of friendship. With the 
 dainty nod she always had when she had 
 no further use for one, she disappeared into 
 the house. 
 
 A servant, with a dirty fat baby on her 
 arm, opened and led her into a room littered 
 with books and pictures. 
 
 Here our Babette waited very nervously. 
 
 How would his voice sound when he bade 
 welcome? Could he speak in any form but 
 verse? 
 
 But even the gods are human at home. 
 
 In the adjoining room plates clattered, 
 and someon-e said unpleasantly: 
 
 "Can't you teach that beast of a cook to 
 fry onions brown?" 
 
 Babette winced. That was undoubtedly 
 
 40 
 
Bdbette Bomherling 
 
 his voice. She still had it ringmg in her 
 memory: "Oh, my queen, how wondrous 
 fair is life!" 
 
 Now a chair ^craped in the adjoining 
 room. Steps approached the middle door. 
 
 Without reflecting, Babette dashed out 
 of the room. Quicker than a weasel she had 
 disappeared from the strange flat. 
 
 To Hilda's many questions she only re- 
 plied that one could not speak of such an 
 adventure. 
 
 Hilda stared at her blond friend with 
 fervent and warm admiration. They part- 
 ed in solemn silence. 
 
 However, on reaching home Babette tore 
 every last photograph of this man off her 
 walls and threw them into a black box. She 
 was furious that tears should roll down 
 her cheeks the while. 
 
 What did a person who ate onions con- 
 cern her? 
 
 Babette's mother had also made use of 
 the time. 
 
 After the quince marmalade had been 
 filled into the jars, and these counted over 
 
 41 
 
'i<*PW,l.': . ■ ■ ..-. .1 T-- -r ■-.-•. . -,. -,■■..■:•• --^■-- . /^t; . ri- ■•. • T-- r"' ^Vl; 
 
 Babette Bomberling 
 
 three times, Madam Amia disappeared in 
 her bedroom for an hour. 
 
 Time changeth all things. 
 
 When she reappeared she had become a 
 perceptibly slimmer, elegant lady, with a 
 wealth of curls beneath her hat and veil. 
 Like Spring, she was preceded and followed 
 by the fragrance of flowers. With awe, 
 the maid laid the fur cape about the wide 
 shoulders, passed her the huge muff with its 
 bouquet of artificial violets, and, politely 
 opening the door, rang for the elevator. 
 
 Slowly Mrs. BomberUng was lowered to 
 the ground. 
 
 She intended to visit her friend, the 
 widow, a refined and charming lady. Her 
 husband had been a great scientist. An 
 entire family of bugs had been named after 
 him. Besides by a happy coincidence, this 
 lady was the aunt of the aforementioned 
 noted attorney. 
 
 In spite of her honorable connection with 
 the newly discovered race of bugs, the 
 widow was in rather meager circumstances. 
 She had to get on without a maid, and had 
 only the coarsest housework done by the 
 
 4a 
 
r' ' '■ ■ '-■-'■.'■ ■-■-'•■.. . ■ ". ■ " 
 
 Babette Bomherling 
 
 janitor's wife. The rest she did herself in 
 kid gloves, a boudoir cap over her hair. 
 
 But even when handled with kid gloves, 
 daily house work is coarse. 
 
 The janitor's wife did not show proper 
 respect, and sneered when she was Jtold to 
 carry away the scant garbage. For this 
 reason, the lady had asked her friend, Mrs. 
 Bomherling, to bring her a few champagne 
 corks, which she would occasionally toss into 
 the waste-basket or garbage pail. 
 
 Mrs. Bomherling had gladly assented, al- 
 though when the Bomberlings were alone, 
 their meals consisted of no exaggerated 
 luxuries. 
 
 But we must show ourselves worthy of 
 the high opinion of our friends. 
 
 Mrs. Bomherling went to a wineshop, 
 ordered several bottles of a light red wine 
 and asked the clerk for some champagne 
 corks. 
 
 "Of the best French brands, of course.'* 
 
 Her friend received her with great ela- 
 tion, for she was delighted to have someone 
 to whom she could pour out her heart. The 
 janitor's wife had smashed a small plaster 
 
 43 
 
Babette BomberUng 
 
 bust of Schiller. Instead of asking pardon, 
 the creatiu-e had declared that Schiller was 
 not modern anyway. 
 
 "What do you say to that?" she asked 
 trembhng with rage. 
 
 Mrs. Bomberling blushed. This «ras 
 beyond her sphere, but she fancied that the 
 play "Don Carlos,'' which she had recently 
 seen with Babette, had been made by this 
 broken Schiller. 
 
 "There can be various opinions on that," 
 she said hesitatingly. 
 
 "Most assuredly," her friend hastened to 
 say, "But that such a person should dare to 
 express a literary judgment to me. A slight 
 difference of caste still exists." 
 
 Mrs. Bomberling handed over her 
 package of corks, and called attention to 
 their all being of )the best brands. She 
 might have more at any time. The other 
 thanked her kindly and assured her that 
 these would do for a long time. A cork 
 every Sunday would be plenty. One must 
 not be wasteful. 
 
 Now it was Anna's turn to talk. She re- 
 ported how industriously her children were 
 
 44 
 
 ■ -r^ M ' ^i t 
 
■*^v-S'''v^^*V^^-''' ':.■.'-" ■■ - - '■; ■■ . ■ ./^.■VT VV/^T*tJPS-^-:r.-?M»^"7^;^ 
 
 Bahette Bomberling 
 
 pursuing their courses, Babette in her 
 Italian classes and Herman at college. 
 Then she inquired politely whether the 
 widow's nephew had arrived, for the clever 
 state attorney was just being transferred 
 to the metropoUs. 
 
 The old lady nodded pleasantly. Yester- 
 day the dear boy had called on her. She had 
 promptly told him of. her dear friend and 
 her relations. 
 
 Mrs. Bomberling asked, cautiously, what 
 the age of the good boy might be. 
 
 The auntie wrinkled her narrow fore- 
 head, and said after some reflection, that 
 her poor old head was not good at dates. 
 He had probably just entered on the forties. 
 Perhaps he was already forty-five. Possibly 
 even forty-eight. Everything is , possible. 
 But, however that might be, in comparison 
 to his splendid advancement, he was still ex- 
 ceedingly young. 
 
 And so they talked over the various 
 things that a mother and an aunt have to 
 discuss. When Mrs. Bomberling was about 
 to go she invited her dear friend to dinner 
 the night of Babette's seventeenth birthday. 
 
 45 
 
^5i'^r'^^»'^"*r'T^*^ T^^^^ ^=^^^v"* T^*^ 
 
 :t ^' ^: •-'..Tr."r-~ ry^'^ ~rfn^~ 
 
 Babette Bomberling 
 
 In case the illustrious nephew would accom- 
 pany her, he would be very welcome. 
 
 The good widow promised to extend the 
 invitation. She believed that she might 
 accept for him today. 
 
 They parted with the smiles of true 
 friendship. 
 
 When Mrs. Bomberling stepped on the 
 street the red autumn sun was reflected in 
 the windows of the pheap attic flats. Hence 
 it was setting. A few moments more and 
 it would be the Bomberlings' dinner hour, 
 but tardiness had always been Anna's spe- 
 cial privilege. She decided to walk. A bit 
 of exercise would do her good. 
 
 At the next corner she saw a truck from 
 which they were selling ridiculously cheap 
 cauUflower. 
 
 Anna stopped and approached the wagon 
 about which women and girls were pushing 
 and puffing. She was continually forget- 
 ting that five cents more or less did not 
 matter at BomberUngs'. She successfully 
 secured four large firm heads and finally 
 even got five cents more off the low price. 
 Thoroughly elated she went on. 
 
 46 
 
W''?i'i''f^'TT''rT'T^^^vTT^f^ 
 
 Bahette Bomherling 
 
 But possession is burdensome. At every 
 step the paxjkage became heavier. The old 
 newspaper wrapping burst and the chubby 
 heads started flirting with every passer-by. 
 Everyone seemed to smile at this imper- 
 tinent vegetable that crowded against the 
 costly furs. With every step Anna feared 
 the big heads would roll away from her. 
 She flushed with terror and embarrassment. 
 At last her resistance was broken. She 
 hailed a taxi. 
 
 In a few moments she was at home. Bom- 
 berhng was already there. He was pacing 
 back and forth in the dining-room, where 
 the curtains were drawn and the light shone 
 agreeably upon the set table. 
 
 "I'm terribly hungry," he called cheer- 
 fully when he heard Anna coming. 
 Soon they all sat about the table. 
 
 Bomberhng did not delay with chatter, 
 but began to eat hastily. 
 
 The cauliflower had thoroughly spoilt 
 Anna's appetite. 
 
 Herman, who had just been at an ex- 
 tensive cocktail party, was separated from 
 
 47 
 
';rs<r- 
 
 Bahette Bomherling 
 
 his family by a thick fog. Veils floated be- 
 fore his eyes. 
 
 "I have invited my dear friend to dinner 
 on Babette's birthday. Her nephew, Mr. 
 Kobertson, will probably accompany her. 
 He is said to be a very charming man." 
 
 Babette frowned. She had ceased look- 
 ing forward to her birthday. 
 
 As soon as dinner was over she went to 
 her piano and played one funeral march 
 
 after another in the pitch-dark room. 
 
 # « # « « 
 
 The days that preceded Babette's birthday 
 consisted of a monotony of breakfasts, 
 Imiches and suppers. 
 
 But Babette had become more cheerful. 
 The memory of Romeo's onions had faded 
 a bit for Hilda's brother the lieutenant was 
 home on leave and called for the two friends 
 every afternoon after, classes. „ 
 
 Babette found that a uniform makes a 
 street more picturesque. 
 
 Mrs. Bomherling was entirely and untir- 
 ingly occupied these days. 
 
 Early and late she was buying and giving 
 orders. She shirked no bother. The din- 
 
 48 
 
•^y "■• ''^. V!A?^*^T^ .' ? '* ^ i^^X^-i^f^f i-^^^T'^-^^; ''_• '..■■' >', 
 
 Babette BomberUng 
 
 ner should be excellent and plentiful. Bom- 
 berling's guests should be satisfied. 
 
 One afternoon they found a card on re- 
 turning home: Gustavius Kobertson, confi- 
 dential attorney. 
 
 Success spurs us on. Anna now slept 
 with the cook-book on her night table. 
 
 And finally the evening arrived. 
 
 The entire artistic region was brilliantly 
 lit. From ceiling, walls and tables electric 
 lights glowed. The etching with the ridic- 
 ulously smiling pair was hke a mirror; glis- 
 tening, it reflected the many lights. Tht 
 czars and grand dukes in the cupboard 
 shone in their full regalia and decorations. 
 
 In the dining-room was the beautifully 
 set table. 
 
 Babette had strewn it cleverly with 
 fragrant violets. Since this morning this 
 little flower was her favorite. She wore a 
 bimch of them at the belt of her white dress. 
 Mrs. BomberHng had asked from whom she 
 had received so many violets. Babette 
 seemed not to remember. Possibly they 
 were from Hilda's brother the lieutenant, 
 she had answered. 
 
 49 
 
.^ -"f^i-Ti^-TiWHWWsf^' 
 
 Babette Bomherling 
 
 About her neck Babette wore the finely 
 wrought necklace that her father had given 
 her that morning. 
 
 Bomherling had bought it himself. 
 
 He had stopped his motor at an elegant 
 jeweler's and asked the smart man in dress 
 clothes behind the counter to show him 
 "something for the very pretty neck of a 
 young lady." 
 
 He had been advised politely to take this 
 very fine necklace. From it was suspended 
 a single pearl, like a dew drop. 
 
 In his ofiice Bomherling had unwrapped 
 it again. At his desk, where black and 
 brown moldings were piled high, and, 
 where the sketches for coffins and grave- 
 stones left httle room, the old man sat and 
 slid the delicate chain over his round fingers. 
 When he had bedded it again in the fine 
 leather case, a thoughtful and satisfied smile 
 was on his face. 
 
 Babette was happy with her pearl. 
 
 When her father came home she rushed 
 to embrace him and said, "I must continu- 
 ally think that it lay hidden in a shell at the 
 
 50 
 
^'^!'^'IBTV^'^!EW9!T?p?^',vr=«i^?^7T^ 
 
 Babette Bomberling 
 
 bottom of the sea." And then she dashed 
 to the piano and played a wild dance. 
 
 Bomberling stogd dazed and proud be- 
 fore the glittering table. He admired 
 Anna intensely. Where had she learnt to 
 do all this? 
 
 He did not know that in every woman 
 there is a bit of a princess. At sixteen Anna 
 had seen this table already. In the sparks 
 that flew from the anvU. 
 
 But where was Anna? In vain Bomber- 
 ling had sought her in the artistic region. 
 Finally he found her in the laundry where 
 the crayons of both their parents stared 
 down upon rows of wine-bottles and deco- 
 rated platters. 
 
 Here stood Mrs. Bomberling with Mr. 
 Schutte. Mr. Schutte was the hired butler.. 
 The widow had recommended him to her 
 friend. He was a jewel. Where he served 
 nothing was left to be desired. He was 
 wholly ejffident. 
 
 He had arrived that minute. He was 
 asking for any special wishes Madam might 
 have. Anna spoke excitedly at his im- 
 mobilcj masklike face, that was so smooth 
 
 51 
 
■"^T^,^^ • ■ ■■,.■ ■■_■■; ■■-■■■ • ■- • ■■';^'' '.' :,f.';5snw^ 
 
 Bahette Bomberling 
 
 and only twitched painfully when Madam 
 pronounced the French name of a dish. 
 
 Anna was rather relieved when Mr. 
 Schutte interrupted with a polite wave of 
 his hand that he was sufficiently instructed. 
 He bowed and went to get his white gloves 
 out of his overcoat, which he had hung 
 modestly behind the pantry door. He had 
 to hunt a whUe and glanced back nervously 
 at Anna, who was still there without any 
 apparent reason. The pockets of this coat 
 were deep. The lining of the coat was 
 worthy its name in every sense of the word. 
 Sewed to the coat only along the outer edge, 
 it had held many a partridge, pa^ty and bot- 
 tle of wine, besides the usual profusion of 
 choice fruits, cigars iced cakes and bon- 
 bons. For Mr. Schutte had a family at 
 home. Everyone must care for his own. 
 husband in the doorway. She had wanted 
 
 Anna received a shock when she spied her 
 to 'phone him that afternoon that the attor- 
 ney might be forty-eight years old. Distance 
 extenuates. From day to day she had post- 
 poned saying this into August's face. 
 
 Now there was no time for private alter- 
 
 52 
 
■ '?li*J'^?*i<^';v'i!s^''/.^,''>--' <■.■.■■- , '.' .^■"- ■~T5?r'=^r^/^T'riT'5T>"<«5^^ 
 
 Babette Bomherling 
 
 cation. The bell might ring at any moment. 
 Bomherling must change quickly. Since 
 some time Anna was stately and pompous. 
 
 Mr. Schutte had put on his gloves and 
 said in the refined whisper that was peculiar 
 to him: 
 
 "Pardon, Madam, one must not wait till 
 it rings. I shall go to the entry, and open 
 when it rings. I invite the guests to step 
 into the drawing-room.*' 
 
 Mrs. Bomherling asked if she might take 
 a last look into the kitchen. Mr. Schutte 
 consented, with a pitying shrug of his 
 shoulder. 
 
 When Anna came hurrying back along 
 the hall Mr. Schutte asked if she had any 
 objection to his whispering the brand of 
 each wine as he poured it into the guests' 
 glass. That this was customary. 
 
 "Must that be?" asked Anna alarmed, 
 and stared into the expressionless visage 
 before her. 
 
 Schutte nodded. 
 
 Anna hesitated. Then she said doubt- 
 fully that she believed only the champagne 
 was of any well-known brand. 
 
 A8 
 

 Babette Bomberling 
 
 Mr. Schutte reassured her. That would 
 not matter in the least. That he was ac- 
 customed to mumhling only the most first- 
 class names. 
 
 With that he bowed low and opened the 
 door of the drawing-room. 
 
 A good lackey is a great saving. 
 Her mind at ease, Mrs. Bomberling 
 rustled in. 
 
 Bomberling waited. 
 
 At first it appeared as though all had for- 
 gotten their invitations, but then they came 
 in quick succession. 
 
 First of all, Hilda Wagner with her 
 brother, Fred, in uniform. Then Paul with 
 exquisite flowers. Behind him, Bomberling*s 
 chief clerk straight from the barber's. At 
 his side his young wife, who was in mourn- 
 ing. She excused herself, saying that her 
 grandmother had died, and really she should 
 not attend parties, but that this little dinner 
 surely could not be considered a pleasure. 
 
 In the meanwhile a classmate of Her- 
 man's had come and made a splendid bow 
 before each one. And fin-ally the widow 
 
 54 
 
^^ifW^^'^^r^^^S^--- V ,•'■■-."'-■ ■ '^^ '■"-■: ^->.' '-^/-J%X^r':pWV'^'-^s?%^^^ ■ <if/r-i.-,>"t}WtV.-P".%r "J^l"*- 
 
 Babette BomberUng 
 
 with her nephew, the illustrious Gustavius 
 Kobertson. 
 
 Dinner could have been served immedi- 
 ately, if it had not been necessary to wait 
 for Uncle Albert and Aunt Helen. 
 
 Babette sat on the arm of a chair and 
 watched the new acquaintance, who had 
 taken a seat next to her father and was con- 
 versing with him. 
 
 He was tall and lean. His nails were as 
 glossy as his patent-leather shoes. His fore- 
 head reached to the nape of his neck. 
 
 Babette sniffed the air. Then she quickly 
 slipped from her chair. She wanted to tell 
 Hilda Wagner that this man perfumed 
 himself. 
 
 Herman and his friend had exchanged a 
 look of appreciation of the attorney's mono- 
 cle, which sat firmly, as if rooted, under the 
 eyebrow. The fellow was undoubtedly a 
 cavalier. In the meantime the object of 
 their admiration, lounging in his big chair, 
 was occupied in making it quite clear to this 
 coffin manufacturer that he had made a re- 
 markably quick career. With such fabulous 
 
 6S 
 
■7r*iS.'«5 ' 
 
 Babette BomberUng 
 
 rapidity few would ever be able to follow 
 him. . 
 
 That assertion was not incorrect. Such 
 an accident could hardly come again, and 
 it was that alone which had allowed Mr. 
 Robertson to advance so rapidly. One aft- 
 ernoon when Mr. Robertson was as usual 
 boring himself horribly, he had thoughtless- 
 ly drawn a huge question-mark on the va- 
 cant half of the document that he was sup- 
 posed to work on. A beautiful question- 
 mark with a big hump like a creditor and a 
 slender waist Uke a pretty girl, and beneath 
 it a dot, full and round as the globe. At 
 that moment the door was pulled open and 
 his chief came in. Robertson tried in- vain 
 to hide the result of his undesired drawing 
 talent. 
 
 "You have found sometJvng doubtful? 
 Hand it to me." 
 
 What Fate has in store for us is sure to 
 take place. The document was examined. 
 Mr. Robertson had discovered a big fraud 
 and rendered a great service to his govern- 
 ment. 
 
 56 
 
-V ■■■'-!'■,. '^ •■;/■; ■;; ■■.■ 
 
 Babette Bomherling 
 
 Most things really require a great deal 
 less brain than we imagine. 
 
 But this was a purely personal matter of 
 the attorney's. It is comprehensible that he 
 did not allude to these details. 
 
 Besides, he was interrupted by the ap- 
 pearance of the last guests. Uncle Albert 
 and Aunt Helen had arrived. 
 
 Mrs. Bomherling would have been hearti- 
 ly glad not to invite them. They did not 
 belong among these guests, but Albert was 
 August's brother, and if she had asked 
 Helen to postpone her birthday visit, she 
 would have come to spite her. Aunt Helen 
 was one of those who cannot see why one 
 should try to please people. 
 
 Two little creases cm^ed from her mouth. 
 These simulated a continual smile on her 
 face. That was an illusion, she never 
 smiled. 
 
 As she entered the drawing-room now, 
 she remarked that she would not have been 
 late if she could afford a taxi like certain 
 other people. Then she greeted the other 
 guests with a sharp look. At short intervals 
 Albert was making bows a step behind her. 
 
 m 
 
"if^'Fvt'vn' r* jT»-7',*»7?vr.' I'. '■ ■r;r'--;j.-^.v;»r""'"^r^,Tt»r T~ ^:« TCpc "■, ?.^ ■'^ ^ 7^ I* ."wy^^^^J^fJpWir 
 
 K-.wy^T'T^ 
 
 Babette Bomherling 
 
 His long black coat hung from his bony 
 shoulders as from a wooden coat-hanger. A 
 long beard, gray and well-groomed lent him 
 a dignified appearance. He was a life- 
 insurance agent, and so the occupations of 
 the two brothers were related. 
 
 Schutte rolled the doors back. They went 
 to dinner. 
 
 When Mrs. Bomherling saw that the 
 pate lay perfectly in the center of the plat- 
 ter, she sighed with relief. 
 
 Her neighbor was telling of the delightful 
 variations of the modern motor siren. A 
 friend of his had a horn that coughed like 
 a dog — a charming thing. 
 
 "How very interesting," murmured Mrs. 
 Bomherling, the while praying to God that 
 He keep the trout from becoming too soggy. 
 
 Soon all were conversing animatedly. As 
 in all the noisy confusions of Hfe, each un- 
 derstood the other better than himself. 
 
 One could hear Mrs. Bomherling saying 
 that only the man with his own home was 
 in possession of his full self-respect. 
 
 And Aunt Helen scolding about the 
 peas, for rolling off the knife so easily. 
 
 58 
 
 '.y 
 
■'¥*''*■ 'i'"^~'iP7:'f?.'i'J^-; ■: '■ '"' ::*•■';;..-.■;■: ',;. , >fsi'^s*^--??^»ji"^ff;'T7''W*'§!?«RT^'7v" : .r'' ^■'fS^TTVpfl^^ r'^' '^4^ ■ 
 
 Babette Bomberling 
 
 And Paul calling to the lieutenant that 
 young girls did not know their own minds. 
 
 To all this the clinking of glasses and 
 rattling of plates. 
 
 Mr. Schutte served the attorney with 
 especial deference. He had experience. 
 The oldest on€ was always intended for the 
 bridegroom. The young plantlets were 
 only there as a decorative filling. Suddenly 
 Aunt Helen shrieked shrilly: 
 
 "This is too much. Every time the 
 fellow fills my glass he mumbles some 
 impertinence." 
 
 Schutte continued quietly, whispering 
 "Pissporter" into the ear of the next, and 
 poured wine. 
 
 The young men grinned. The widow 
 stared silently at her plate, only her long, 
 gray eyelashes fluttered. Mr. Robertson 
 trained his monocle on Aimt Helen and 
 observed her until her mistake had been ex- 
 plained from all sides. 
 
 "There seems to be something new every 
 day," she said testily, while her face wore 
 its staid smile. 
 
 Anna had two red roses on her cheeks. 
 
 59 
 
•'.^•tvii^--, ;'.• -• •' •, - ■. •<■ -■': ...-■ ■■ '■ ..-•,r;—v-'--; -■■-.'• ;:^-' . v;-. " ,>^;i« '•>>-7»5;y'R!^ 
 
 Bahette Bomherling 
 
 She had Aunt Helen and Uncle Albert 
 served a second time. Chewing is a hin- 
 drance to speech. 
 
 However, wine makes the tongue wag, 
 and Mr. Schutte refilled Aunt Helen's 
 glass to the brim whenever she had sipped 
 at it. We avenge with the means at our 
 disposal. 
 
 And so Aunt Helen began to chatter. 
 She told the illustrious guest and everyone 
 who cared to Usten, that she did not need 
 to be ashamed of her origin either. In her 
 little home town her mother had been the 
 first to own a set of real artificial teeth. 
 Today they were still talking about it. 
 She had never adjusted it inside the house, 
 but, when she left the door she would call 
 the servant to fetch her mouthpiece and in 
 plain sight of all, would hook it in. For at 
 that time people were no diflPerent than 
 today. What they do not see they don't 
 beheve. 
 
 4|( 4( # « # 
 
 Anna rose from the table. The sweets 
 
 might as well be passed in the other rooms. 
 
 Someone went to the piano and played. 
 
 60 
 
7yi^>— T-J^'Tii.JI^ ;iiyi_'*»^iijj» lywi^Blil iijipjljyy^^|y^gpyj miu'lftllV ' " \"' ' • "»'^W^PW<g''Wy 
 
 Babette BomberUng 
 
 The music was pleasant after the good meal. 
 The men smoked. The attorney stood be- 
 neath the etching and whispered pretty- 
 compliments in Babette's ear. She listened 
 smiling, the while her eyes met the glances 
 of the lieutenant, who was watching from 
 the further room. 
 
 The widow whispered to her friend that 
 eveiything had gone marvelously. 
 
 Paul approached Babette and asked if 
 she remembered him. 
 
 She tucked her arm under his and drew 
 him aside. She asked him whether he did 
 not think Hilda's brother was awfully smart 
 and dashing. /He said that there was a 
 frivolous expression about the lieutenant's 
 mouth. Babette laughed and said that she 
 could only see a blond moustache there and 
 that Paul showed no judgment of men at 
 aU. 
 
 Schutte passed the coffee and cordials. 
 
 Aunt Helen wiped her mouth and sug- 
 gested breaking up for the trip home. She 
 did not care to miss the last trolley. Anna 
 did not blame her; her own resources were 
 at an end. 
 
 01 
 
' ^>:>:.;- 
 
 Babette Bomherling 
 
 Many bows and handshakes. 
 
 Voices died away. 
 
 Mr. Schutte asked if he might go, and 
 disappeared down the back stairs for home 
 and family. 
 
 The Bomberlings remained in the empty 
 rooms that seemed large and barren, as 
 though the noisy guests had widened them. 
 
 The Ughts extinguished, good-night was 
 bidden. 
 
 In the bedroom Bomherling said : 
 
 "You did your part sublimely, dear, only 
 the bridgroom was rather old vintage." 
 
 He laughed, for he was glad that the 
 whole affair was over. This old boy should 
 never have his daughter, as sure as her 
 name was Babette Bomherling. 
 
 Anna had not answered. 
 
 The exhausted mother had fallen asleep. 
 
 « « « « « 
 
 One can have too much of a good thing. 
 
 Bomberling's fireside comfort was gone. 
 
 Whenever Mrs. Bomherling was resting, 
 stretching in her easy chair, freed of all 
 formal restrictions, her lorgnette resting on 
 the toilette-table and the comfortable spec- 
 
 62 
 
K»-T^-7»".=r'»- :. ■;-.'■ .-■71 ,- .' -/- ..-i- .■:'-.; ■>--^-.; -■.- ^ ;- y-^-. ^^.-XS, .*"■-•,"■.'*- r -- ■-.-'. 1-75. - ■^■. -- --■-■.-.;- ■ • J;^ic*"^'".' .- . "^ - -■ T*^;^ 
 
 Bahette BomherUng 
 
 tacles on her nose, facilitating the perusal 
 of the illustrated weekly — ^it rang, and Mr. 
 Koberston came to call. 
 
 Whenever Bomberhng felt thoroughly at 
 home, smoking in his chair or pacing the 
 room, hands in his pockets, glad of Anna, 
 of the appetizing picture on the wall, of 
 hopping Napoleon for whom he kindly 
 picked up the bit of sugar he threw out of 
 his cage — ^it rang, and Mr. Koberston came 
 to call. 
 
 For the visitor these calls had become a 
 pleasant habit. He enjoyed sitting in the 
 brightly lit rooms, smoking one good cigar- 
 ette after another, and taking pleasure in 
 Babette's seventeen years. The fact that 
 his aunt had assured him that this pretty 
 girl would not turn him down, sent him into 
 an ecstasy that was not unpleasant. 
 
 The sooner wooed the better. 
 
 He was earnestly considering giving his 
 approaching fiftieth birthday the proper 
 consecration with marriage. 
 
 In the meanwhile Anna, full of humility 
 and devotion, screwed herself once more 
 
 68 
 
Babette BomberUng 
 
 into her tight, tailored frock before her bed- 
 room mirror. 
 
 In the kitchen they were preparing little 
 delicious bites. All the Ughts in the "region 
 of culture" were turned on, and a cloth was 
 hung over little Napoleon's cage. 
 
 Babette was visibly pleased with the 
 visits of the attorney. They brought an in- 
 terruption into deadly dull family peace 
 which was harder for her to bear than ever 
 before. She felt as we all do in early 
 Spring, when we can't bear to be in our 
 quiet rooms, and yet find no respite, in the 
 noisy streets, because we see stones instead 
 of grass and flowers. 
 
 She sat at the piano and played. When 
 she stopped, she would smile at Mr. Kobers- 
 ton and ask him at what age a lieutenant 
 became a captain, or whether one must do 
 anything besides growing old to become a 
 general and commander-in"-chief. 
 
 We are flattered to be asked something 
 we know. The attorney was glad to answer 
 and give explicit information. At last a 
 girl who was hungry for knowledge and did 
 not babble of dances and theaters. 
 
 64 
 
 .^-rt 
 
WPf ''MWi "^ ■> P^ -yytTJW-"-'' ,: • ". ; ■::-".-^yr- •T_f^';'^.y!^:-r^i^^,:^Si;if^:'yi^T!ii;r;::i:^7^T.':-^--^.i^:y,:^'' 
 
 Babette BomherUng 
 
 Beaming on the chatting pair, slightly 
 out of breath, Anna entered the pleasant 
 music room. ^ 
 
 She excused her tardy appearance with a 
 lot of fuss. Mr. Koberston tried to interrupt 
 her as soon as possible; he blew a kiss way 
 over her round hand that held the lorgnette, 
 and insisted that she should not have let his 
 appearance disturb her in the least. Even 
 politenesses may occasionally be truthful. 
 
 Bomberling invariably had the misfortune 
 to enter the room just as the dear caller was 
 making his adieus and driving to his club. 
 
 Winter had come, real winter, with sleet 
 and snowflakes and ice. This is justified 
 for winter sports in the mountains to a cer- 
 tain extent, but here in the great city it is 
 only an abominable hindrance to traffic. 
 
 On this Mrs. Bomberling and Mr. Ko- 
 berston were agreed as they now sat alone 
 together, for Babette was skating with 
 Hilda Wagner. 
 
 The quiet rooms were warm and bright. 
 The water was bubbling in the tea-kettle 
 and the wind howled outdoors. 
 
 'It makes me shiver to hear it," said the 
 
 65 
 
 (<i 
 
^'WR's;>'^5WB^- ' 
 
 Babette Bomherling 
 
 attorney. "Isn't it reckless of your 
 daughter " 
 
 A loud ring, as though all youth were 
 sounding an alarm. Skates clinked and 
 Babette's head popped around the door, 
 with snow on her fur cap. 
 
 "What heavenly weather we are having I" 
 she called and slammed the door. 
 
 Only a whiff of fresh air remained be- 
 hind. The attorney stroked his smooth, 
 bald head, unpleasantly affected. 
 
 Babette had merely wished to reassure 
 herself that the usual visitor was in his cus- 
 tomary chair. Anything as long as she 
 wouldn't have to eat alone with the family 
 today. And she cordially asked Mr. Ko- 
 berston to stay to supper. 
 
 For in the midst of the street's turmoil, 
 when they were yelling the evening paper, 
 all the lights had flamed up, and it had 
 seemed to become lighter instead of darker, 
 while Hilda was buying a postage stamp, 
 and while she and Lieutenant Wagner had 
 sworn eternal faith. Now she was betrothed. 
 
 Babette came out of her dreams with a 
 
 66 
 
'^P*l^B?r'9P3!!n5^i??Cf^Tf^ 
 
 ■"«^jii^i »•.■.» ,'^^- r-T=y "^fl^ 
 
 Bahette Bomherling 
 
 shock. It seemed as though someone had 
 screamed "ENGAGED." 
 
 They were at the table eating sahnon with 
 brown butter, and watching for the bones. 
 Mr. Koberston was quietly remarking that 
 fish was good and easily digestible food. 
 Then Anna reported that the handle had 
 broken off one of the Russian cups. It is 
 a misfortune when such an accident strikes 
 even the wealthy. 
 
 Bomherling ate silently. He looked 
 weary. At this time of the year, orders 
 heaped up till they could scarce be carried 
 out. He broke away from his thoughts only 
 once to remark that there seemed to be a lot 
 of influenza. 
 
 "One must not think of that," said the 
 attorney slightly jarred. 
 
 Herman was not there. He was at a 
 friend's, who was supposed to help him with 
 his books. But this friend's name was Liane 
 Violetta, the star of a vaudeville, at which he 
 and Mr. Koberston were regular guests. 
 
 Anna was tired today too. Her gout 
 bothered her in such weather and this new 
 dress was particularly tight, but she 
 
 67 
 
.,3^, t,. ■• .'/-T.fti;'?^^ sij-ipjiwjs' ' 
 
 Babette Bomherling 
 
 straightened up and smiled. Her pretty 
 daughter should have happiness and social 
 prestige. 
 
 Babette played soft Spring songs. Mr. 
 Koberston followed her into the music 
 room. 
 
 Then Babette stopped and said that her 
 hand hurt. The attorney wanted to see the 
 poor little hand. He took it and suddenly 
 slipped his first finger up inside her silk 
 sleeve. 
 
 Babette shrieked and tore herself away. 
 Anna came in and asked what had 
 happened. 
 
 Babette rubbed her wrist under the sleeve 
 and said a nasty animal had bitten her. 
 
 Anna blushed. She reminded Babette 
 that in a clean home, such as that of her 
 parents, there were no nasty animals. 
 
 But Babette continued rubbing her arm 
 and left the room. 
 
 Mr. Koberston smiled and told Mrs. 
 BomberUng not to be embarrassed; such a 
 thing might happen in the best of families. 
 But he left soon after that. 
 
 ifc ifi ^ ifi nil 
 
 68 
 
T^^nr— ,..^^r'- '}:v-''-'' , •;. "■ •-. ' •• .; ;;,\-j;,- . ,,i^_5^ .f::Sr"^- > ; :^; 
 
 •» .-. 
 
 '1 
 
 Babette Bomherling 
 
 The following morning an icy blast 
 swept through the Bomberlings' apartment. 
 
 All the windows were open, the vacuum- 
 cleaner was sucking and the beaters beat- 
 ing. The suspicious oriental rug on the 
 hall floor was getting special attention. 
 Anna could not endure insects. The cold 
 that streamed in was a painful torture, but 
 we must do our duty where we see it. 
 
 Yesterday's occurrence should not be re- 
 peated. Anna wanted to be able to tell her 
 noted guest that he might take his tea in her 
 rooms without fear of disturbance. There 
 were no crawly creatures at the Bomber- 
 Hngs'. She wanted to call his attention to 
 the fact that a man is sheltered best in his 
 own home. 
 
 But few plans are realized. Most of them 
 are there just to keep us breathless. 
 
 The attorney did not come that after- 
 noon, and even on the following day he re- 
 mained away from the Bomberlings' apart- 
 ment. Anna waited in vain for his call the 
 entire day, not daring to make herself com- 
 fortable even for a moment. 
 
 The third morning brought a letter, that 
 
 69 
 
' ^^;,y^ -» , ■■■■■'■" *>.' ■ 1' * I V ■■_ 7. ^\i . *'fjlflS^'^ ^ 
 
 Babette Bomberling 
 
 sent a balmy fragance of heliotrope over the 
 salami on the breakfast table. 
 
 When Anna had cut the envelope it 
 seemed to her as though the hand-made 
 paper was entirely covered with insects' 
 legs. Hastily she took up her spectacles. 
 Then she guessed from whom this letter 
 might be and with a shock laid these aside 
 and grasped her diamond-studded lorgnette. 
 
 How easily we may become guilty of an 
 impropriety. 
 
 The letter was actually from Mr. Ko- 
 berston. The long thin script informed her 
 that a sudden longing for clean mountain 
 air was taking him to St. Moritz. It ex- 
 pressed his gratitude and the hope that the 
 future would bring another meeting. 
 
 Anna paled. "Clean mountain air" hit her 
 as a bitter reproach. Couldn't she have had 
 the carpets beaten a day sooner? One tiny 
 creature had annihilated her entire plan. 
 Or had it been the coffins again? She brood- 
 ed and worried. 
 
 Herman was upset too, when he had read 
 the letter. He had just founded a Fletcher- 
 izing club. Every member was obliged to 
 
 70 
 
T'P-'^JJ'-rVLi'^^ . « 
 
 Bahette Bomherling 
 
 chew every bite that he took in this chewing 
 club — seventy-four times. 
 
 Herman had intended to make the illus- 
 trious friend of the family an honorary 
 member, in order to put the club on a higher 
 plane. "This doesn't suit me a bit," said 
 Herman snifiing at the letter. 
 
 "Nor me," said Anna, looking lovingly 
 at her big boy. They agreed so rarely now- 
 adays. 
 
 Now Babette entered. A sad, earnest 
 mother-look went from the letter to the tall, 
 slim girl. 
 
 Babette brought two bundles of pine 
 boughs, which she had just bought of a wo- 
 man on the back stairs. 
 
 She pressed a hearty kiss on her mother's 
 cheek, and said that the old woman had told 
 her the snow was three feet deep in the 
 country. 
 
 "That made me think of Grandpa's black- 
 smith shop," said she. "When I was httle 
 you used to tell me how you all sat around 
 the warm, red fire while the snow drifted 
 high outside." , 
 
 71 
 
•■•-'-■■^ '-1' 
 
 , ■ •«-^'^,*:f f< 
 
 Babette BomberUng 
 
 Anna cleared her throat several times. 
 The maid might come in at any moment, 
 was perhaps at the door already. 
 
 She was angry with Babette and more so 
 with herself. When had she told the child 
 all this nonsense. It must have been in 
 those first years when the hammering of the 
 great city had always reminded her of the 
 anvil at home. Children have an mimerciful 
 memory. 
 
 "How lovely that must have been," said 
 Babette dreamily, "the red fire and out- 
 doors the cold, white snow." 
 
 A suspicion crept up in Anna. 
 
 "Babette, you didn't by any chance 
 happen to tell Mr. Koberston of the 
 smithy?" she questioned. 
 
 Babette shook her head thoughtfully and 
 said she could remember nothing of the 
 sort. 
 
 Her mother passed her the letter. 
 Anxiously Mrs. Bomberling watched the 
 smooth and rosy baby face. It changed to a 
 mischievous grin. 
 
 72 
 
HK^^'^^''T*' . ^■■-■■■' \/'''y ■-:•'. ,:~- ,-» \.. ■-'.'V^/'iJ/^' -^■'''^>^:>Tfj^^ ■■■ ;'-.,'-■ Sf|e~4!KT~i-~.*'J-vy;i_J5i ' 
 
 BaJbette Bomherling 
 
 "I should like to see the good man on 
 skiis, tearing down- a hill," said she giggling 
 with delight. 
 
 That was all. With that the affair was 
 ended for her. She was cutting and tying 
 the pine branches and declaring she would 
 soon change the apartment into a winter 
 wood. Anna was glad and yet distressed. 
 She had surely not wanted her child to 
 suffer; but hadn't it appeared as though 
 Babette had been greatly pleased with these 
 calls? 
 
 What a difficult time a mother has under- 
 standing her children! 
 
 She brooded and grieved. But our every- 
 day life claims its rights. 
 
 The big bill of the delicatessen dealer was 
 no dream. 
 
 When she asked Bomherling for a small 
 extra for that month's housekeeping, and 
 regretted that it had been spent all in vain, 
 he burst out laughing and gave her double 
 the amount. He only advised her to leave 
 all matrimonial plans alone. Then he pinched 
 her right cheek, as was his habit, and left 
 smiling. 
 
 78 
 
;\yf.':^yfK^ 
 
 Babette Bomherling 
 
 He could not let himself in for further 
 discussions. The factory was waiting. 
 
 Anna sighed. She enjoyed talking a 
 thing over. Why if not for that, had she 
 married after all? 
 
 Wistfully she put the money in her silver 
 mesh-bag. It was a shame that Bomherling 
 gave his family so little thought. 
 
 The pine boughs spread peace in the 
 family. All who came from the cold out- 
 side into the warm room, remarked that 
 Christmas was approaching, and were 
 pleased. 
 
 All except Babette. It always seemed 
 to her as though a window were open 
 somewhere, or a stranger were sitting at 
 their table, making fun of her parents' 
 conversation. 
 
 A secret is a heavy burden, and Babette 
 was not accustomed to carrying burdens. 
 
 She had had to make one promise after 
 another. Not a soul was to know of her 
 happiness. Fred would tell her the reasons 
 for this later on. 
 
 His leave was over and he had gone. 
 Every day she called at the post-office for 
 
 74 
 
. i'i'T-Tr'yy'-i'^r::^^^?^ ^■"^'^i^i^^'^ywar^ 
 
 Babette Bomherling 
 
 her letter. Her little purse was filled with 
 stamps. For every time she wanted to ask 
 for a letter, everyone seemed to grin 
 stupidly, and then she would quickly buy a 
 stamp and flee. But now the clerk at the 
 window knew her, and the big envelope 
 passed into her hand between two silent 
 smiles. 
 
 It invariably contained a huge white 
 sheet, over which a few lines of hasty words 
 ran, hke horses galloping out of the bar- 
 racks. These words always said the same, 
 that Fred loves his little darling and is 
 thinking of her day and night. And at the 
 end they poured out a lot of kisses. 
 
 There is no joy that does not also sadden. 
 
 These letters, which Babette carried duti- 
 fully over her heart, did not please her a bit. 
 
 She would sit in the winter twihght, in 
 her cheery room, close by the snow-banked 
 window, and dream of someone who would 
 write Uttle letters, which would not blurt 
 everything out roughly, and yet would be 
 brimful of tenderness — and wouldn't smell 
 of tobacco, either. 
 
 76 
 
y^'lr^T^^^- ,.■■■,'-■■■•-1.,-. _■ ■•' ^;. -3,- • -, -^-- ■; • . . ;■ .... , ;i,"_ ■ "> ■-;■•.-■- -,;,■■ "l - ■-''■'• f.'^:;**?'^ 
 
 Babette BomherUng 
 
 When it had become dark she would 
 spring up. Reminding herself that she had 
 no business thinking of strangers any more; 
 that she must concentrate on Fred. She 
 tried to recall him. The black, glossy hair 
 accurately parted, the small eyes, brown 
 and flashing. The white teeth under the 
 thick moustache, and the beautiful blue and 
 red uniform. 
 
 And now she would light the lamps and 
 write a short, adoring letter, wherein she 
 would forget that it was not directed to 
 an unknown. 
 
 Fred found these epistles when he came 
 back from duty, dead tired. He flew 
 through them, yawned and stuck them, all 
 crumpled, into his breeches pockets. Then 
 he threw himself on the couch and thought 
 of— "Mucky." 
 
 "Mucky" tried on winter coats all day. 
 She turned and twisted !her supple cat's- 
 body before respectable smaU-town wo- 
 men, who could never understand why the 
 coats look so different today than yester- 
 day at the shop. 
 
 76 
 
 -',rSh«i..J 
 
WfTv^W^'^"--''^^^} ■ '• ' .■ • ..T""*fvf™^^'*(-5'^'?^' .y«!^^ ■ \ ■, ■'_ ': r??lw3W'^?- 'sr'-^'TrsTS 
 
 Babette BomberUng 
 
 And when "Mucky" had turned a thou- 
 sand times upon her patent leather slippers, 
 until even the old earth had turned on its 
 axle, "Mucky" would sup with Freddy in a 
 wing of the Eagle House. 
 
 While she poked deUcious morsels into 
 her mouth, she related how the husbands, 
 who accompanied their ladies, would often 
 look as though they would rather choose 
 her than the coat. And when she had drunk 
 a little, she became sad and said that in the 
 metropoUs she would surely have had her 
 own flat by this time, a prize pekinese and 
 a live parrot. And then she would laugh 
 again, pull her Freddy's moustache, and 
 tell him that he was not at all what she had 
 once dreamt, and that she like the uniform 
 of the red hussars much better than his. 
 
 Fred assured her that no one is perfect 
 and that she might well be satisfied with his 
 uniform. And then he ordered another 
 bottle of champagne and caviar set in a 
 block of ice. 
 
 This did not only bring him nearer to 
 "Mucky," but also to his fiancee. For all 
 debts must be paid eventually. The income 
 
 77 
 
\\-\7'>-\-"'f^ri,. 's:Ty^ -g^'' ^ V - ^f**^^ "^ 
 
 ^ V -"* 
 
 Babette BomberUng 
 
 of the coffin factory would have no musty 
 odor for him. 
 
 For this reason it was a part of Freddy's 
 daily program to dash off a page of hasty 
 love words before supper and address the 
 envelope to Babette. 
 
 While writing these, his thoughts would 
 already be with "Mucky." But as he licked 
 the envelope he said to himself that wives 
 must have less temperament than she, and 
 he reduced the ten thousand kisses to one 
 thousand. 
 
 We must take life as it comes to us. 
 
 But what seems little to one, is a great 
 deal for another. 
 
 These letters were more of a burden to 
 Babette from day to day. 
 
 They oppressed her. They almost choked 
 her ringing laughter when Herman's friend, 
 who now skated with her daily, told her his 
 jolly yarns and jokes. 
 
 She came to resent Hilda. Had she 
 really needed a postage stamp that time? 
 
 Only when the band played a senti- 
 mental waltz and she flew through the clear 
 winter air with Herman's friend, would she 
 
 78 
 
5JiH5?BP»?j'r^:v: TT'vi-^T'^T'v"' ''^' "^^ 
 
 Babette Bomberling 
 
 be reconciled, and think it heavenly to be se- 
 cretly engaged. Then she would wish that 
 the present moment might last forever. 
 
 But unfortunately bliss is not lasting. 
 
 One day Fred wrote that he was re- 
 turning. 
 
 The sable scarf that "Mucky" wished for 
 Christmas, forced him to this. However the 
 reasons of our deeds he hidden. 
 
 Babette was startled. She reread the 
 letter. The script galloped so fast over the 
 sheet, as though Fred were on the way al- 
 ready. 
 
 Her restlessness drove her to Hilda, 
 where she might possibly hear more without 
 giving herself away. 
 
 This was the first time Babette had been 
 to the Wagners' since she had secretly be- 
 come related to them. As she ran up the 
 wide stairs, she noticed that they were 
 marble outside, and inside wood. With a 
 shock it dawned on her that Hilda's cranky 
 papa was now her papa, and Hilda's thin, 
 nervous mamma was now her mamma. She 
 sighed. A great wave of tenderness for her 
 own father and mother filled her. 
 
 79 
 
/■^flT.*/" - 
 
 ■• ■^^^'^^■r. 
 
 Babette Bomherling 
 
 Hilda was the only one at home. She was 
 in her room, her bathroom, packing a suit- 
 case. She was to go to her aunt, whom she 
 helped with the house-cleaning every year. 
 
 She was actually only an aunt of her 
 father's. Hilda told how she had been 
 afraid of her as a child. She had thought 
 the bony fingers of her long, lean hands 
 were witch's pincers. But this aunt had a 
 veritable treasure collection of old china, 
 silver and fine linen ; for this reason Hilda's 
 father insisted that she go regularly to see 
 her. 
 
 "It is a bore to be there," said Hilda. 
 "But till I get there the trip is lovely 
 through the sno wed-under country." 
 
 She looked dreamily at the dim window- 
 pane, that gave the tiny bathroom scant 
 hght, and much privacy. 
 
 Babette's restless eyes had discovered a 
 photograph of a young man, 'midst the con- 
 fusion of dance favors, Japanese paper fans 
 and the shower-bath. 
 
 Hilda laughingly declared that it was the 
 newest picture of Fred in mufti. 
 
 80 
 
 -^'■ft^i 
 
.■Ts^.r™ ■'". T-r™*^ftn» -.;i ,.«"_../<'" . . ' — r">-- z-— ;:Vi>* ?•"■•- •'■^'•■-'.v>>'r':v^J*'^.--'*r.^'^rf^*s^*^^ , - ■ ■' r"»,73c:',T 
 
 Bahette BomberUng 
 
 Babette took it in her hand and gazed 
 upon the strange man with astonishment. 
 She said that she would scarce recognize 
 Hilda's brother without his imiform, but 
 that he was probably not coming back for 
 some time? 
 
 Hilda was trying to close her grip. The 
 question was lost in the rattle, and exertion. 
 
 So Babette had to go again without 
 having discovered anything. 
 
 Fonnerly, when Babette had had any 
 surprises for her parents, her cousin Paul 
 had always been her confidant. She could 
 keep no secrets from him. He had even 
 been informed that, great actors eat onions, 
 and are consequently not worth any extra- 
 ordinary esteem. 
 
 Possibly she might catch some advice 
 from him now, by artifice? Possibly she 
 might talk with him without giving herself 
 away? 
 
 When Bomberling sent a 'phone message, 
 saying he would not be able to get home till 
 just before dinner tonight, she decided to 
 call for her father at his office. There she 
 
 81 
 
■■.|'r. J. ^.,!- ■';'«J5JWfSWvT'T 
 
 Bahette Bomberling 
 
 could surely manage a short talk with Paul. 
 
 But first she must go skating. Sunny 
 weather with a sharp frost in the air. 
 
 Herman's friend was waiting for her. 
 He had not only a remarkable memory for 
 jokes and riddles, but was continually 
 worrying about improving the economic 
 condition of the universe. He was disgust- 
 ed with the state, the church, marriage, com- 
 merce and whatever else there is. He was 
 studying national economy, and intended 
 to throw over all the decayed institutions of 
 the world in a few years. 
 
 But even this did not fully content him. 
 He desired the sympathy of Babette's 
 warm little heart. 
 
 Bahette listened to him, slightly inatten- 
 tive, for she was thinking of Freddy, and 
 more of her coming talk with Paul. 
 
 Finally, when the thorough economist 
 began on the army, he caught her entire 
 attention. 
 
 He reckoned for Bahette, with statistics, 
 how many children one had to raise for 
 every cannon. He was for complete de- 
 mobilization. 
 
 82 
 
fOt^^-VfTiip'^^^^ ■'■'--- •■-';-J"5c-i«? -' S- •; i ,»yTr,j^.r5,yv-,-tj^ -F^^,^^f7Ti<<3]pi^S|;^i:;n^S?<™?w^ 
 
 Bahette BomherUng 
 
 "Away with them," said he. 
 
 He was so wonderfully manly. Babette 
 got the impression that all soldiers had al- 
 ready been shoved oflF this round, smooth 
 globe — Fred too. If this was necessary for 
 world betterment, Babette would resign 
 herself to it. 
 
 A long whistle shrilled from some factory 
 smoke-stack. Babette loosened her skates 
 and said good-bye. 
 
 Herman's friend held her hand firmly 
 and said that he had been wanting to ask 
 her all afternoon if she felt herself suffi- 
 ciently sublime to enter a free-love mar- 
 riage. She was actually morally obliged, 
 for there was someone who scorned every- 
 thing else, and could only love her. 
 
 Babette tried to free her hand, but she 
 did not succeed. 
 
 "You have the moral obligation, Ba- 
 bette," the national economist reiterated. 
 "The M. O., pray do not forget that. I 
 shall leave you time to think it over." 
 
 He squeezed Babette's hand, which was 
 stiff with the cold, until it hurt. Then he 
 
 88 
 
 ■ 1 
 ) * 
 
■'JTs-./.Tgi^WHri^ 
 
 Bahette Bomherling 
 
 freed it with a fling, to express his earnest- 
 ness. 
 
 Babette ran up the narrow boardwalk 
 that connected the smooth ice with the firm 
 earth. 
 
 A fine fog in the streets made the hghts 
 dance as in a fantasy. Motors and people 
 were mysteriously veiled. The noise of the 
 fading day dampened down to a buzzing 
 rumble. 
 
 Babs sat in an auto. All about her purred 
 and buzzed "M. O.," "M. O." 
 
 She began to realize that it was the moral 
 obUgations that make life so complicated. 
 
 Many dancing balls of light indicated 
 Bomberling's factory in the haze. Babette 
 stepped into the show rooms, which took up 
 the front of the long stretch of buildings. 
 
 The sharp odor of all the wood, recalled 
 forests and soil. 
 
 Her father was not there, but two gentle- 
 men stood near the door, in front of a mag- 
 nificent coffin. Their heads crowned with 
 high silk hats were tilted reflectively. 
 
 "A lot of money for such a thing," 
 whispered the one. "But considering that 
 
 84 
 
i^^wi^m^j''^'-.- ■■'■•- '-"^ v'-7^'^rt?'=*f??^^''i?s?wpr^^ 
 
 Bahette Bomberling 
 
 he allowed himself so little during his 
 lifetime " 
 
 The other nodded. 
 
 "Let us take the larger one," he sighed. 
 
 They turned to look for the salesman, 
 who was whispering with a slender lady. 
 In consideration of the sadness of the case, 
 she wanted a shght reduction in the price, 
 but he assured her that all prices were al- 
 ready reckoned for sad circumstances. Only 
 in the sale of a half-dozen could they allow 
 a slight reduction. 
 
 Now he recognized Bahette. With a re- 
 spectful bow, he said that her father was in 
 his office. Then he hurried over to the wait- 
 ing gentlemen. 
 
 Bomberling was not alone. Bahette 
 stopped in the httle waiting room. She 
 heard voices beyond the curtain, distinctly. 
 
 It was a dull conversation. An old gentle- 
 man was inquiring about the expenses of a 
 first-class funeral, in order that he might 
 make proper allowances in his will. 
 
 Her father was advising cremation, and 
 reckoned for him how much more quickly 
 everything is over then. 
 
 85 
 
F>f?Wl^' ?!'''>•-■-• I'-v.; ■>.■..•■•■:'•>;:••---•■. >--T. ,. ... ■ ... ..-, .-f :—■''■ ■ -\ ;--'■>, '''^. >] ^ ■•■-■,•'■ ''-^^r^iiW 
 
 Babette BomberUng 
 
 The visitor declared he was too old for 
 new fashions, that he was not in a hurry any- 
 way. He giggled, and Bomberling's loud 
 laugh rang out. 
 
 Then only the mumbling of figures was 
 to be heard. The old man wanted every- 
 thing explained, to the minutest detail. He 
 had nothing else to do. This liftle diversion 
 was pleasant to him. 
 
 Babette got impatient. She wondered 
 where Paul might be? She sneaked out on 
 tiptoe. 
 
 When she entered the big showroom 
 diffidently, a door opened at the opposite 
 side and Paul appeared. 
 
 Babette hurried towards him through the 
 narrow passage left by the many rows of 
 coffins. 
 
 "Whew I" said she, "all these awful 
 things. Do you know that people die 
 when they are young, too? But when they 
 are old, then they have to. I don't want to 
 grow old.** 
 
 She clung to PauVs arm nervously. 
 "Come out of here," she whispered. 
 
 86 
 

 Babette BomherUng 
 
 At the moment Paul could think of no 
 nicer spot in the world. He said it was only 
 the twihght that made the place a bit grue- 
 some, and switched on all the electric lights. 
 The black ebony reflected Babette from all 
 sides. Paul asked whether Babette had any- 
 thing special to tell him. 
 
 She said she had only come to call for her 
 father, whom she had not seen all day. 
 
 Then she was silent. 
 
 It is not easy to find the right words, 
 when one wants to avoid a particular topic. 
 
 But finally they got a-chattering anyway. 
 
 They sat on opposite comers of the 
 splendrous tomb of state, smiUng at each 
 other. 
 
 Paul asked if Babette had a skating com- 
 panion. 
 
 Babette said that occasionally a friend of 
 Herman's skated beside her. And then she 
 asked whether one was morally obliged to 
 love someone in whom one infused love in- 
 voluntarily? 
 
 Paul stared at her. This was not an 
 easy question to answer. He asked whether 
 she were thinking of any particular person, 
 
 87 
 
Babette Bomherling 
 
 stooping the while to examine some carving 
 closely. 
 
 Babette said that she was only asking out 
 of general interest in the subject. Paul 
 looked up again, and said that one could 
 only decide such obligations from case to 
 case. 
 
 And then he asked if she was still seeing 
 Hilda's brother frequently. 
 
 Babette turned up her nose at this and 
 said he had left long ago. But what did 
 Paul think of engagements? Did he think 
 it very despicable to call them off after a 
 short time, if one could not stand the other? 
 
 Paul laughed and said that in such cases 
 it might be better not to have become en- 
 gaged in the first place. 
 
 But Babette lost her temper there. 
 
 "You always talk so wisely and with such 
 a superior air," she cried, "as thought you 
 could never make a mistake." 
 
 Suddenly two tears rolled down her 
 cheeks. Paul was alarmed. 
 
 " Is it the old attorney?" he asked cau- 
 tiously. 
 
 Babette had to laugh at that again. 
 
 88 
 
 i^^iiiA.. 
 
ffw!fS'^r^^''T7^'^^!^^^^ - ^ ^^ V^f^y^i^"-^ r 
 
 "T* ' :-^yrt,^7fKf 
 
 Babette Bomherling 
 
 "You are too stupid," she said, and slid 
 down- from the high tomb. 
 
 "I was only speaking in general." 
 Paul gave her a probing look. 
 
 Then he said, slowly picking his words — 
 that he too, speaking purely theoretically of 
 course, always considered it more practical 
 if a woman never took a decisive step, with- 
 out consulting her best male friend. And 
 that engagements, where one could not 
 stand the other, should be broken without 
 consideration. 
 
 That was Paul's honest opinion. But 
 candidness and cunning are often hard to 
 separate, and Paul could not go more into 
 detail, for BomberHng disturbed the con- 
 versation here. 
 
 After he had escorted his caller to the 
 door and invited the two gentlemen to 
 honor him again, he had learned from the 
 head salesman that Miss Bomherling had 
 come. Then he had gone in search of his 
 Babette. 
 
 He tucked her arm under his, and asked 
 if she had really only come to fetch her old 
 
 89 
 
■ '. Y 'Wi ■■ *JP' ■ -->^.;?vr<v^.w:;'w*?'w-^,:>/i' ,.-^5r ''^'y'^^lT3!«p!*'^>f|;^,^7y ■ 
 
 Bahette Bomherling 
 
 father, or whether she was having some 
 secrets with Paul again. 
 
 Paul and Babette laughed delightedly at 
 this. 
 
 They went into the office. 
 
 While her father signed some letters, Ba- 
 bette admired a typewriter that had just 
 arrived, all new and shining. She played 
 with it and declared, if the ice were not so 
 good it would be fun to sit here and earn 
 money. 
 
 Paul offered to teach her, and her father 
 cried he would engage her the minute she 
 had learnt it. 
 
 Babette was enraptured with this n«w 
 idea. She would come as soon as thaw set 
 in. Absolutely. For reassurance she struck 
 her red-silk blouse, but there the ^ fifteen 
 letters of Lieutenant Wagner crackled, 
 with their sum total of fifteen thousand 
 kisses. Babette shrank together and became 
 silent. 
 
 Paul said that she was too reckless with 
 her promises. That he could see she was al- 
 ready regretting everything. 
 
 90 
 
WfB'5P^^^^?^^Kw'7!?iWw,^?T>^^^ 
 
 Babette Bomherling 
 
 Bomberling slammed down the cover of 
 his ink-well, and declared that every day has 
 its own problem. They should talk about 
 it when the ice had melted. 
 
 A bit later, father and daughter had rid- 
 den off. 
 
 Paul returned to the showrooms. The 
 fragrance of flowers was about the high 
 tomb. It was really a pretty spot. He sat 
 on the side where Babette had swung, and 
 pulled the evening paper out of his pocket. 
 
 Reading the newspaper has a soothing 
 effect. One comes in contact with all the 
 chances in the world. It seems so simple to 
 snatch up one of these strings of fortune. 
 
 When Bomberling and Babette came 
 home, Anna had not yet arrived. 
 
 Herman, sitting in his room, called from 
 out a cloud of pipesmoke, that mother 
 was being charitable today. 
 
 That was true. Mrs. Bomberling's friend, 
 the Professor's widow, had started a small 
 club. She had contributed her late hus- 
 band's title, and Mrs. Bomberling the wool. 
 Together with a few refined ladies they sat 
 
 91 
 
•r^.^TK"- • •■ • ■ •■ .- ■- ■ ■.--.,• --^ • ••■•■'•- .[• ■•,- •'■•■■■li'SBTO? 
 
 Bahette BomherUng 
 
 and crocheted warm garments for poor 
 children. 
 
 Mrs. Bomberling went to these gather- 
 ings extravagantly dressed, and avoided 
 everything cheap, even in her conversation. 
 She told of the expensive Persian in her 
 hall, mentioned the oil-painting by a re- 
 nowned artist, the college course of her son 
 and the Russian cups. 
 
 But what the tongue may hide, will be 
 given away by the hands, which no one can 
 change. 
 
 It had not escaped the ladies, that 
 wealthy Mrs. Bomberling could make up 
 these coarse wool things with remarkable 
 dexterity. One faultless piece after another 
 flew from her hands. 
 
 They had come to an understanding with 
 a few glances over the head of the busily 
 occupied lady. 
 
 She could not have had a refined up- 
 bringing. 
 
 Today Mrs. Bomberling had tried to be 
 the first in this circle of neighborly love. 
 She wanted a few undisturbed words with 
 her dearest friend. The widow would surely 
 
 92 
 
^j»jp!"JYis7''i^?w??5?^j!y';^'j;^i^j?^^ - * "" ''V-- ' w^gi^?.-, ■■^■'/•.s'^-'^t^ 
 
 Bahette BomberUng 
 
 know why, and how long her nephew would 
 be winter sporting. 
 
 When she entered the room, however, an- 
 other lady was there already. And they 
 were so deeply engrossed in their talking 
 that they did not hear her coming. Anna 
 was in the middle of the room, before her 
 friend sprang up and hurried towards her. 
 She looked frightened and asked if Anna 
 had been listening long. She had just been 
 singing her praises. 
 
 Then she introduced the ladies : Baroness 
 Pryczsbitzky-Ratzoska. 
 
 Mrs. Bomberling bowed and said that 
 she had just come from a famous antiqua- 
 rian. She had bought the seal of an Egyp- 
 tian mummy for her husband for a Christ- 
 mas gift. 
 
 The baroness inquired whether this had 
 been the expressed wish of Mrs. Bomberling. 
 
 Anna said that this was not the case. But 
 that it was extremely difficult to find a suit- 
 able present for a man, and added that an- 
 tiques were the newest mode today. 
 
 Baroness Pryczsbitzky-Ratzoska agreed 
 with her in everything. She was exceed- 
 
 93 
 
.V*»r7/ •.■,"■- ^-.'^-V V V'" . :. .''---• ■.>■■.■.•_;--> ^ -^^■>-1,-^T«-?li^«^-^''f/f' ^T;';^4;^-TK='^y ►•'*?Y^^ 
 
 Babette BomberUng 
 
 ingly pleasant and agreeable. While her 
 fingers were making the needles fly, Mrs. 
 Bomberling worried, "Could the lady have 
 understood von Bomberling in the intro- 
 duction?'* 
 
 Her suspicion was strengthened when 
 the baroness asked if she might call upon 
 her the following morning at eleven. 
 
 Mrs. Bomberhng flushed with pleasure. 
 She asked whether she would rather come to 
 tea or supper. 
 
 But the lady begged to be allowed to 
 come for a little chat at eleven. 
 
 When all the members were assembled, 
 and one could no longer hear on the right 
 what was being said on the left, Anna 
 asked about the attorney and his trip. 
 
 The widow answered rather ill-humored- 
 ly, that she did not know anytliing either. 
 That her nephew wasn't a child and could 
 do as he pleased. 
 
 No one could deny that. And with that 
 the conversation was ended. 
 
 Anna should have enjoyed bringing good 
 news home. Babette's restlessness had not 
 escaped her. It was evident to her that the 
 
 94 
 
\ .yW'IsIT'.^WpTKPa'WWfT^^T^j' 
 
 Bahette BomberUng 
 
 child missed this unpleasant old feUow, 
 love is so incomprehensible. 
 
 Hence Anna was doubly happy to find 
 Babette in gay spirits on her return. She 
 sat straight again, and seemed freer and 
 happier. 
 
 There was no mistake about this. A load 
 had been taken off Babette's heart. Lieu- 
 tenant Wagner's letters were gone. Ba- 
 bette had followed Paul's advice. She had 
 broken the engagement. At least, she had 
 tied the letters together and placed them in 
 an envelope. On this she had written: 
 
 ^'Je ne vous aime pas, je ne vous avais pas 
 aime, je ne voiis animerai pas" 
 
 She had the impression that the situation 
 demanded French. The words said much, 
 said all, and had been found so easily in 
 her grammar. 
 
 Babette had intended to send off the 
 package of letters early the following morn- 
 ing. The new envelope that would come, 
 should also be enclosed, unopened. 
 
 But none of us know what the morrow 
 will bring. 'When the morning's letter lay 
 
 95 
 
 / 
 
''^^TT 
 
 Babette Bomherling 
 
 in Babette's hand, she saw that it was not 
 from the small up-state garrison. It was 
 stamped in the metropolis. Freddy must 
 have arrived. 
 
 Babette could not resist the temptation. 
 She opened the missive. 
 
 Fred wrote that he had come to surprise 
 her, but before that he had had to take care 
 of a confidential matter. A duel over a man's 
 honor. And he lay wounded on his cot. 
 Babette should not write to him. He 
 begged for secrecy and faith. 
 
 One can put various interpretations on a 
 phrasing. The confidential matter that was 
 delaying the lieutenant, could be called 
 "Mucky." 
 
 He had brought her along. 
 
 He had imagined himself bound to make 
 some settlement for her, before he bade her 
 farewell. To this end he has bought her 
 the Sunday fashion supplements. 
 
 They had studied the many advertise- 
 ments together. There was a lot of va- 
 cancies that seemed suitable for "Mucky," 
 and so "Mucky" had come along to simplify 
 the choice. 
 
 96 
 
■•<fif^i^fi>fmifmii^im''^w?'f^^ 
 
 Babette BomberUng 
 
 What a hero, Babette had thought, as she 
 read the letter. The first letter from 
 Freddy that she really Hked, and she had 
 wanted to bring pain to such a man! 
 
 She compared him to her skating friend. 
 Days and years would pass before he im- 
 proved the world. What was even good 
 Paul, who sat in a warm studio and drew 
 sketches for other people's coffins in com- 
 parison to such a man, who risked death 
 for honor, who now lay on a bed of pain, 
 alone and suffering! 
 
 These sad thoughts made Babette glow 
 inwardly. It was snowing. She resolved 
 to buy soft, wonderful roses, and leave 
 them at his address at twihght. 
 
 "I am going out for some flowers," 
 she said trying to avoid showing her tear- 
 stained face. 
 
 That was easy this time, for Mrs. Bom- 
 berUng only glanced up to say: 
 
 "Be punctual for lunch, my child." 
 
 Then she hustled to her own occupations. 
 She was busy with her own plans, which 
 held many ambitions. The baroness would 
 soon be there. Possibly she had an un- 
 
 97 
 
■■■■^■rpa^.- 
 
 'r^-''-iy''^^m 
 
 Babette BomherUng 
 
 married son, or at least a nephew. There is 
 always some young man of marriagable 
 age in every proper family. 
 
 A bell sounded. 
 
 The maid brought a card on her salver, 
 saying a lady had come, wearing a great 
 many furs, so she had shown her into the 
 drawing-room. ' \ 
 
 Mrs. Bomberling took the card and said 
 correctively: 
 
 "That is not a lady, that is a baroness." 
 
 The girl should know with whom she was 
 in service. 
 
 Then she hurried out. 
 
 A few words about the weather were ex- 
 changed politely. It was cold. It snowed. 
 If it got warmer the snow would surely 
 melt. 
 
 With such words we thaw ourselves. The 
 baroness opened her furs. 
 
 She said it was not pleasant to talk of 
 oneself, and yet it might interest Mrs. 
 Bomberling that she was not only a baron- 
 ess, but that she had a profession too. A 
 beautiful and praiseworthy profession, that 
 
 98 
 
 ^ 
 
■T!^Wt^^^^^!^ 7:-^ ■"''^^/'^^^^^ 
 
 Babette Bomberling 
 
 had been practiced by the gods themselves 
 in the olden times. 
 
 Mrs. Bomberling did not miderstand. 
 
 She excused herself, saying that in the 
 school she had attended, it had just been 
 the old gods who had had a very poor 
 pedagogic representative.; She had been 
 able to retain very little of it. 
 
 The baroness had to come to the point. 
 
 Her eyes cast on the mink muflP, she ex- 
 plained that she played the part of cupid in 
 society. That marriages are made in 
 heaven, but that she arranged them. 
 
 "Nol" said Mrs. Bomberling in open ad- 
 miration. 
 
 "Yes, indeed," said the baroness, now 
 quicker and surer, "I have a select assort- 
 ment. Innocently divofced men, widowers, 
 eligible officials, doctors, sportsmen and 
 cultured merchants with high and vast in- 
 comes in all ages from 26 to 42, always 
 stand at my disposal." 
 
 She took a breath in order to be able to 
 add, that she had established herself in 1896. 
 
 Mrs. Bomberhng smiled politely in 
 baffled admiration, for it was not evident to 
 
 99 
 
■■>-:j''T.::-s'^ 
 
 Babette BomherUng 
 
 her how one could establish oneself. A short 
 thoughtful pause ensued. 
 
 And yet the establishing of the baroness 
 had been simpler than many another begin- 
 ning. 
 
 We are ennobled by our deeds. She had 
 begun with this principle. An order for two 
 thousand visiting-cards had raised her to her 
 title. They had become her stock in trade. 
 Today the cards were engraved. She had 
 advanced. 
 
 And yet as the Baroness Pryczsbitzky- 
 Ratzoska sat before Mrs. Bomberling, her 
 withered face thickly powdered, the pompous 
 bill-board of mink hiding a shabby velvet 
 dress, and the whiff of cheap scent about her, 
 she did not appear to be made happy by 
 this continual rushing about, on her divine 
 mission. Perhaps she might have renounced 
 her rank and the success of all the mar- 
 riages if she had succeeded in one — ^her own. 
 If Pryczsbitzky had not vanished, leaving 
 her nothing but his sneeze of a name! It 
 was really remarkable to think how much 
 she had made of it. She may have been 
 thinking something of the sort, in this quiet 
 
 100 
 
WrOTTJ3S!^5?^>TTS»l ^T'.Mi--- fi.-r:^--' ,jifi?-.,;?:;~;f'fT.7'-fr^'W7^P5F5^^ 
 
 Babette BomherUng 
 
 moment, while both women were nibbling at 
 caviar on toast. 
 
 The elastic laugh had slipped off her face, 
 and left it helpless, tired and old, as she 
 said : 
 
 "We all want to live, before we die." 
 
 Then, recollecting herself, she quickly re- 
 sumed her smile, and said that a certain 
 nobleman of her acquaintance seemed to be 
 born to become a beloved member of the 
 house of Bomberling. 
 
 "Titled?" Mrs. Bomberling ahnost 
 shrieked the word. 
 
 The baroness said that she knew from 
 their mutual friend that the Bomberlings 
 had their subscription /seats at the opera 
 tonight. If it were certain that Mrs. 
 Bomberling and her husband would attend 
 the performance, the gentleman she was 
 thinking of would procure a seat to see Mrs. 
 Bomberling. 
 
 "Me?" asked Mrs. Bombering reddening. 
 
 "Yes," said the baroness. "Young men 
 vary so nowadays. Some want to see the 
 daughter, others the mother. The young 
 man in question today wants to see the 
 
 101 
 
-•'■'' J"- ■}:;"^v^- E^V^T'V^ 
 
 Buhette Bomherling 
 
 mother only. Otherwise it is too much like 
 bu5dng a cat in a bag." 
 
 Mrs. Bomberling tried to catch her re- 
 flection in the cup cabinet. She was em- 
 barrassed. If it had not been the wish of 
 an aristocrat, she would most emphatically 
 have said "NO." 
 
 However, after some pros and cons, she 
 could not resist the proposition. 
 
 The baroness asked politely for the loca- 
 tion of the seats, and quickly noted the row 
 and numbers in a tiny book. She would 
 telegraph them to the young man im- 
 mediately. 
 
 She would charge this to Mrs. Bomber- 
 ling in the meanwhile, also the taxi which 
 had brought her, for, as she may have ob- 
 served, it had unfortunately been snowing. 
 
 She stood up and began to close her furs. 
 
 "What are they playing?" she asked. 
 "Some great work of Verdi or Wagner?" 
 
 Mrs. Bomberling said some light modern 
 thing would be given. 
 
 "That is splendid," cried the baroness, 
 enthusiastically. "It is much easier to get 
 
 102 
 
•^}lff^fS^v^^;^'■y■';'^7^^^^■< ■ '. '^-^ -TiS^r 
 
 Babette Bomberling 
 
 the men to come to these. The effect on 
 their emotions is better too." 
 
 She would speak to the young nobleman 
 after the performance, and bring the 
 answer tomorrow forenoon. She was in a 
 great hurry now. Business was urgent. 
 
 "Before Christmas every minute of mine 
 is precious," she explained smiling. 'They 
 all want to announce their engagement 
 Christmas morning. Yes, yes, people are 
 a queer lot." 
 
 The narrow kid gloves encased the fat 
 hands fairly well now. 
 
 The door came to with a bang after 
 the Baroness Pryczsbitzky-Ratzoska. 
 
 Only the mixed odor of a perfumery shop 
 still hung over the English castle furniture, 
 each piece of which stood perfectly in its 
 prescribed spot. 
 
 Beyond the windows lay twilight. It 
 softened sharp contrasts kindly, veiled 
 coarse outlines, shaded hard lines. 
 
 But in the bedroom where Mrs. Bomber- 
 ling was getting ready for the opera a 
 merciless light shone. Anna stood before 
 the bright mirror. It was polished, and yet 
 
 103 
 

 Babette Bomherling 
 
 candid, as a well-brought-up person would 
 never be. 
 
 Anna sighed. She thought she might 
 perhaps have done more for her appearance 
 this winter than she had. 
 
 With a harassed expression she got out 
 her jewelry and began to polish it. This 
 should at least look new and shiny. 
 
 She had not adorned herself with such 
 precision since her wedding day. 
 
 Should she risk putting on a bit of rouge? 
 Perhaps the man in question was near- 
 sighted. 
 
 A tap at the door frightened Anna, and 
 put a flush in her cheeks naturally. 
 
 It was only Babette, about to start with 
 her roses. She mumbled something about 
 purchasing some notes and gave her mother 
 a tender kiss. Anna responded and gently 
 caressing Babette's hair, resolved to pull her 
 laces still tighter. The happiness of her 
 only daughter was worth this small sacrifice. 
 Courageously she turned to her mirror 
 again. 
 
 The while Babette crossed the big city 
 in the dusk. At the address at the head of 
 
 104 
 
?!7?^-T^^*T^'?,^i^^^^^^'rv*«'^^ 
 
 Babette Bomberling 
 
 the letter Babette 'climbed up the stairs. 
 All the doors of the flats had cards with 
 strange names in the little tin frames. 
 Finally "Frederick Wagner" at the very top. 
 
 Babette stopped irresolute. She did not 
 seem to have the courage to touch the shabby 
 bell. 
 
 She stepped back with terror. Someone 
 had screamed beyond the door. Was her 
 hero dying? No — ^there was singing. 
 
 The song became noisier and more clear. 
 She could catch the words now. The voice 
 of a man yelling: 
 
 "On the balcony of Colvmibine 
 Two sat and ate a philipine, 
 'Pine, 'pine, 'pine." 
 
 Many other voices chimed in on " 'pine, 
 'pine, 'pine." 
 
 Babette was horrified. How could any- 
 one make such a racket in a flat where a 
 man lay sick, a wounded hero? 
 
 She rang energetically. No one opened. 
 
 " 'Pine, 'pine, 'pine," was roared in con- 
 stant iteration. 
 
 Babette had to ring repeatedly, till finally 
 steps dragged nearer. 
 
 105 
 
^'T^.y- 
 
 
 Babette BotnherUng 
 
 The door opened a little. A rotund 
 woman had lowered the latch with her 
 elbow. Her hands were fully occupied with 
 a big cup brimful of coffee and a large piece 
 of cake. Confused, Babette asked if Lieu- 
 tenant Wagner roomed here. Grinning, the 
 woman nodded toward the noise in back of 
 her, and said: 
 
 "Rather 1" 
 
 "How is he? Is he resting? Or sleeping?" 
 whispered Babette. 
 
 The woman grinned more broadly at this 
 witticism, and said if he kept on guzzling at 
 this rate, he would soon be. 
 
 But she should come in now. She did not 
 intend to heat the stairway. She was 
 probably another cousin of the Lieutenant's. 
 Two were there already. But then, a birth- 
 day comes but once a year. 
 
 " 'Pine, 'pine, 'pine," sounded from the 
 end of the hall. 
 
 Babette had not realized that Freddy 
 was supposed to be celebrating his birth- 
 day. She knew that he was born in May. 
 She had thought just this so charming of 
 him. 
 
 106 
 
-'Ilf^1©*>''^^^^T7^ - /v^. - ,~ ^'V*!*- ■''T.rv V TT^ >rv' " • ' 5 ■ ■• ' '■-■ •^' .-■ ♦ V ;~' .v^-. ■ 5 . .■ f^: 
 
 Babette Bomberling 
 
 A door was torn* open down the narrow 
 hall. A chorus of hoarse voices yowled: 
 
 "Booze, booze. Get a gait on, old lady. 
 Get another bottle." 
 
 The fat woman revolved slowly with her 
 cake and coflFee. 
 
 "Take your time," she grumbled. 
 
 But when she looked back the strange girl 
 was gone. She pushed the door with her 
 foot, and forgot the incident. 
 
 Babette fled, choking with fear and dis- 
 gust. At home she found her parents had 
 left. 
 
 Herman was not there either. She was 
 all alone. 
 
 She locked her door and took the red 
 roses out of their wrapping. Babette re- 
 moved a few leaves that the sharp cold had 
 blackened, cut the stems carefully, and set 
 them in lukewarm salt water. The while 
 lukewarm, salt water was dripping into 
 their chalices. 
 
 It was very quiet in the room, only the 
 clock ticked on. 
 
 When Fate means best, we are most 
 angry at it. 
 
 107 
 
^•"^'■■•■■^ " •- ,' -^ ■': ■■ ■■•• '■ ' , V.-^*^' ■" '• ' -J ]:. ■^■r^---^'^:: 
 
 ■'.'3M' 
 
 Bahette Bomherling 
 
 But eventually Babette had fallen asleep 
 — as peacefully as one sleeps at seventeen, 
 when one has cried one's heart out. 
 
 It was late when some taps on her door 
 awoke her. 
 
 Herman's voice talking French, which 
 he always did when he wanted to teU his 
 sister something their servants or parents 
 were not meant to hear. 
 
 Babette sprang up in fright. This French 
 brought everything back. 
 
 " Je ne vous aime pas, je ne — —" 
 
 "Do you hear me, or are you sleeping, 
 Babs?" asked Herman raising his voice. 
 "I would be awfully obliged si tu pouvais 
 me donner vingt marks." 
 
 Babs said: 
 
 ^'Ovi, I'll give them to you at breakfast. 
 
 "Tu es une ange, ma chbre" cried Her- 
 man and gave an assuring bang on the door 
 with his strong fist. 
 
 The crackling money prevented Herman 
 noticing his chere soeur's tear-stained eyes. 
 We don't look unnecessarily long into the 
 eyes of those from whom we receive money. 
 
 108 
 
"•RRi^«j!B!;;M;T?ir?3T'S)!f' •' •:■ . ' i^?'v" . - •"™--~"-*>''^r'5r»^y;r" " 7^T^«r»T~>T="if^'?^^'>y * ■■' - ■ • ' ■>.:;■ ,-?V7Srr-y-i>r^ 
 
 Bahette Bomberling 
 
 He slipped the notes into his pocket, lit 
 a cigarette and said: 
 
 "As soon as I have discovered an instru- 
 ment for perpetual >motion, you'll get it 
 back with interest. So-long." 
 
 Then he left. Liane Violetta should have 
 flowers and candy today. The gloomy 
 winter days depressed her so. 
 
 Babette stayed at the breakfast table 
 The room wasn't hght or dark. Napoleon, 
 his eyes half -closed, squatted on his perch 
 and didn't move. There was a fragrance of 
 coflPee and pine and salami. 
 
 Babs almost wished her mother would 
 come and cross-question her. Why she 
 was so sad, why she had cried. That she 
 would take her in her arms and hold her 
 till Babette had told her everything, and 
 weeping, had confessed to her that all men 
 were bad, and that she would always stay 
 with her beloved mother. 
 
 She longed so for someone upon whom 
 she could pour her entire aflFection. 
 
 Perhaps this moment could have made 
 mother and daughter friends for life. 
 
 If only Anna had not been so entirely 
 
 109 
 
•Z^VVfJ' 
 
 Bahette BomherUng 
 
 absorbed with Babette's welfare, that she 
 had no glance left for her. 
 
 She counted the minutes till the baron- 
 ess would appear. And with her the 
 answer, the answer of an aristocrat. 
 
 She was as agitated as though she herself 
 were to become engaged. 
 
 She would not forget the previous even- 
 ing as long as she lived. She was certain 
 of that. 
 
 The entire house had seemed filled with 
 future sons-in-law. Every man had gazed 
 on her severely, smilingly, critically, scorn- 
 fully — from narrow eyes and round ones — 
 from glasses, goggles and monocles; looks 
 had bored through her. 
 
 She had not dared to move, not to clear 
 her throat or to cough, scarcely to breathe, 
 but she had smiled. Smiled continuously. 
 
 How tightly she had been laced! 
 
 She had every right to a favorable 
 answer. Her impatience was excusable. 
 She ran from room to room nervously. 
 Looked for her keys, couldn't find her lorg- 
 nette, got angry about a stray dust-cloth. 
 
 Babette had been able to think of nothing 
 
 110 
 
^rP3spr"3V_5^flv<?«*5r-f^j^»'tr?*^ ■■:7rj*iir.o '.■■■■"■ :-"■-" --T;=! '^^^rr^*' .^'^''^^.''f^^^-^^ 
 
 Bahette Bomherling 
 
 better than to try the morning ice for a 
 change. 
 
 To her surprise she found her brother 
 there. 
 
 Herman also sought Nature for consola- 
 tion. 
 
 Liane had received the flowers and choc- 
 olates, but not him. Every class has its 
 code. She had sent him a message that 
 people do not receive in the morning when 
 an afternoon appointment has been made. 
 There must be order. 
 
 Herman had to admit that. There must 
 be order, otherwise why should he study 
 law? 
 
 But if he could only have gotten another 
 glimpse at the new galoshes next the um- 
 brella-stand. They had seemed so remark- 
 ably large. As though they fitted men's 
 shoes. 
 
 Silently brother and sister skated side by 
 side. 
 
 After a while the economist appeared 
 over the smooth surface. With a graceful 
 arabesque he swooped upon them. 
 
 Ill 
 
'^■'%'j^mtfjt^ 
 
 Bahette Bomherling 
 
 Soon he was talking about the M. O. — of 
 moral obligations and free love. He spoke 
 only in general, much as we talk about life's 
 problems, when we are about to better the 
 world. 
 
 But Herman put a stop to this. He said 
 these were no subjects for sisters. He 
 could dig up this sort of cleverness with his 
 lady friends but not in the presence of 
 Babette. 
 
 The national economist said he counted 
 Babette among his friends. 
 
 Whereupon Herman gave him a blow. 
 
 His friend returned it. 
 
 Ice is more slippery than the usual floor 
 of life. Now both were rolling on the 
 frozen water, in a tight grip. 
 
 When they got up again their friendship 
 had suffered a chill. They separated with- 
 out a word of parting. 
 
 Babette helped brush the snow off Her- 
 man's coat, then they left the ice. 
 
 "Now you know you have a' brother, 
 don't you?" said Herman, most satisfied. 
 
 He stopped at the next confiserie. 
 
 112 
 
!(5|[jjo^!»7^;jtT'tt'. jfw^;!^■?!^T 'Wi'Ft'*<-?^7^-.'*'J?-f'WTSWf?g5!'7r!??7(rr^ 
 
 Babette Bomherling 
 
 "You might stand me a hot chocolate," 
 said he. 
 
 Babs was not averse to eating a piece of 
 apphe pie with whipped cream. 
 They entered. 
 
 "You might really pay this once," said 
 she. "I have not bought any Christmas 
 gifts as yet." 
 
 "Impossible," said Herman. 
 
 He wanted to spend on Liane all he had 
 left of the twenty marks. 
 
 For had he not just demonstrated that he 
 knew definitely what was due a sister and 
 what was due a sweetheart? 
 
 While the heated argument was taking 
 place on the ice, Bomberhngs' heated rooms 
 had been the scene of a frosty meeting. 
 
 The baroness had been late. 
 
 After she had inquired politely, if Mrs. 
 Bomherling had enjoyed the performance, 
 and whether the artists had been in voice,^ 
 she finally said the nobleman had been there 
 too. 
 
 "Where did he sit?" Mrs. Bomherling 
 
 118 
 
<'^i 
 
 Bahette Bomherling 
 
 asked breathlessly. "There were so many 
 that resembled him." 
 
 "Who might have resembled him," she 
 corrected herself, hastily, when she noticed 
 the astonished look of her visitor. 
 
 "Yes — he was there — and — " 
 
 "And?" pressed Anna. 
 
 "My dear lady, I regret to have to tell 
 you the truth. — You are too corpulent for 
 the gentleman.'* 
 
 It was out. A deep silence ensued. 
 
 The things we think silently of another, 
 do not mortify. 
 
 After a long while Mrs. Bomberling 
 brought, with a deep sigh from her heaving 
 bosom; 
 
 "And this person claims to be of noble 
 birth?" 
 
 The baroness smiled courteously. 
 
 "Don't take it to heart, Mrs. BomberHng. 
 Tastes differ so. You couldn^t imagine how 
 fastidious the young men of today are." 
 
 And she narrated, that some want only 
 ladies without an appendix, others those 
 without parents or sisters, and many even 
 designate exactly how small the nose must 
 
 ^e. 114 
 
■7!'y^^psT;!j^^jW'S'ST^^^ 
 
 Babette Bomherling 
 
 "Only the dowry must invariably be 
 large," she said offended. "It isn't easy for 
 me either, my dear, believe me." 
 
 Mrs. Bomberling did not seem to hear a 
 word of all this. Wounded vanity was 
 whistling around her ears. 
 
 She began to pay attention only when 
 the baroness said: 
 
 "I wanted to make another proposition. 
 I have a five-story houseowner, with a lot 
 of real estate." 
 
 "Oh, that is surely an old man," inter- 
 rupted Mrs. Bomberhng, dismissing him — 
 "In the piece last night the daughter, who 
 was 'way past her first youth, got such an 
 attractive aviator. Rich and young and so 
 handsome in his costume." 
 
 The baroness conmiented that aviators 
 are usually low people, whose one ambition 
 is to rise as quickly as possible. 
 
 "To be sure! On the stage it all looks 
 lovely," she added bitterly. "But it's dif- 
 ferent in life. Here the imen who have 
 really serious intentions, all have been run 
 down a bit by life. Why should they marry 
 otherwise?" 
 
 115 
 
'■ ■ rv' V .... . . - ^ - --. . • , - ^. _^ . ,-* . .-- .; . ,vr:(n'« (^ij^-TO^-,T 
 
 Babette Bomberling 
 
 She shrugged her shoulders and sighed. 
 
 Perhaps she was thinking of her Pryczs- 
 bitzky. Perhaps she was put out that she 
 seemed to be wasting her precious time here. 
 And it so near Christmas I 
 
 "Your daughter is prelty," she began 
 again. "If you did more entertaining — 
 but naturally — many can't swallow the 
 coffins, in this nervous age. Perhaps you 
 had better wait till Spring. A trip 
 abroad — " 
 
 She stood up and began to button her 
 cloak. 
 
 "As I said, the landlord — a look at him 
 costs nothing. I shall send him to you New 
 Year's Day. He can make a short call and 
 bring a message from our mutual friend." 
 
 Mrs. Bomberling didn't say "yes" — 
 neither did she say "no." 
 
 The baroness opened her glistening bag 
 and took out a blue envelope, decorated 
 with a big red crest. 
 
 "However it may be,*' she said "every 
 year has its accounting. May I ask you to 
 regulate the small expenses of this one?" 
 
 11« 
 

 Bahette Bomberling 
 
 Mrs. Bomberling opened the letter, took 
 her lorgnette and read. 
 
 Although her acquaintance with the 
 charming baroness had been short, the bill 
 was long. 
 
 The conversations of yesterday and to- 
 day were called consultations, and charged 
 accordingly. The taxis were added. Mrs. 
 Bomberling was to pay for the ticket of the 
 nobleman, who had thought her too fat. He 
 had sat on a very good seat. 
 
 The baroness cleared her throat with em- 
 phasis. Mrs. Bomberling became em- 
 barrassed, ceased her perusal, picked up her 
 purse and paid the sum total. 
 
 "It has been a great pleasure, au revoir" 
 said the baroness and sailed out. 
 
 When Mrs. Bomberling sat at her desk 
 to book this expenditure, she did not know 
 what to call it. After some hesitation she 
 placed the unpleasant sum in the column, 
 "Fuel." 
 
 She recollected that August and she had 
 met without cost. She shook her head re- 
 flectively while she ; laid the blotter neatly 
 between the pages. 
 
 117 
 

 Bahette Bomherling 
 
 She was forgetting that the ancient gods 
 were still active in those days. They could 
 afford to be cheap, even .with enormous dis- 
 tances. They had wings. 
 
 A snow shoveler sat on the Bomberlings* 
 house and threw the deep snow into the 
 area below. 
 
 As it was a time job, he paused now and 
 then, in spite of the airiness of his perch. 
 He would blow on his stiff hands, and lean- 
 ing forward a Httle, would peek into the 
 warm rooms of the rich folks. The gray 
 day had made most of them draw back 
 their curtains. 
 
 Most was to be seen at Bomberlings'. 
 They had turned on the lights early. 
 
 He could see a little canary ruffling his 
 feathers near the window. Further in the 
 room, there was a brightly colored picture 
 on the wall ; what it was supposed to be he 
 couldn't decide, but the wide gilt frame 
 told him it was a fine picture. 
 
 The table under the chandelier was the 
 prettiest of all. There a family sat and ate. 
 A fat gentleman, with a napkin tucked in 
 
 118 
 
^R*-~ .~-v""^ !<• ,:"■■ ■ . ■ ■ -,'' r --"■-■.. ■■ -■ ■ •^. ■ -. '^ t -'-rf . vX •f'--'^-^'2'^'- --■■•■' r''^!^^<S^--^V^!7'^^ " ^-, ■>■_;-. t-*--. -■^. ^T^ffT&T^TJvBfgsfJw^gpi! 
 
 Bahette Bomberling 
 
 his collar, a fat lady, with a high blond 
 hair arrangement, another fat, but younger 
 gentleman and a slim and blond young 
 miss. 
 
 It was like a "movie." They moved, their 
 mouths clapped open and shut, nothing 
 could be heard. 
 
 Grinning, he took up his shovel again. 
 The snow flopped down in heavy thuds. 
 
 When he leaned forward again, a pretty 
 maid was passing a large platter to each. 
 Everyone filled his plate. 
 
 "Lucky folks! They might well be con- 
 tent—" 
 
 But even from a roof one cannot see into 
 the hearts of people. 
 
 The only reason Herman ate was not to 
 seem unpleasant. He was still angry at the 
 economist; and besides, he could tliink of 
 nothing but the large galoshes in Liane*s 
 entry. 
 
 Anna was nervously wondering whether 
 every bite she swallowed was adding to her 
 weight. Sadly she looked across at Ba- 
 hette who sat so innocently before her plate 
 
 119 
 
 libi^. 
 
Babette BomberUng 
 
 and did not guess her own mother was an 
 obstacle to her happiness. 
 
 Babs was not noticing anything, me- 
 chanically nibbling her food. She did not 
 look up. Now and then she passed her slim 
 fingers over her forehead, as though she 
 would smooth the thoughts behind it. She 
 must talk to Paul today. He was the only 
 one who understood her. She would work 
 hke a man from now on; start out in the 
 gray dawn with her lunch in her bag. 
 
 Bomberling chewed noisily. He was 
 thinking of the coming annual inventory. 
 He was calculating. Sharp Unes crossed 
 his round, jovial face. 
 
 Thus each was drawing his own balance, 
 while they silently ate together and occa- 
 sionally exchanged words unrelated to their 
 thoughts. 
 
 The ring of the door-bell promised an in- 
 terruption, but it was only Aunt Helen. 
 She was annoyed that her relatives were 
 still at the table, although she could not 
 very well have expected otherwise. She did 
 not wish to disturb. No indeed, she would 
 go again immediately. And then she was 
 
 120 
 

 Babette Bomherling 
 
 seated between Bomberling and Babette. 
 
 The man on the roof had watched all this 
 with curiosity. 
 
 "She would sweeten no meal," he 
 thought, and better satisfied, he crept to the 
 other side of the roof. 
 
 "Thanks, I have eaten," said Aunt Helen. 
 
 But when the maid passed on with the 
 meat-platter, she recalled it angrily. While 
 she heaped her plate with everything, she 
 said: 
 
 "Roast beef. You shouldn't eat so much 
 beef. You can surely afford poultry." 
 
 "Do you think poultry is less fattening?" 
 asked Anna. 
 
 "I know nothing about that," said Helen, 
 chewing. "Nothing makes me stout." 
 
 After she had eaten a while she turned 
 to Bomberhng and said she wanted a favor 
 of him. 
 
 "Out with it," answered August kindly, 
 drying his mustache with the napkin. 
 
 " I want to ask you for a certificate for 
 a coffin. It can be plain, but should look 
 nice too." 
 
 121 
 
'^"^:s^' 
 
 Bahette Bomherlirvg 
 
 A painful silence. One was not supposed 
 to speak of coffins at the BomberUngs'. 
 
 "What do you want it for?" asked 
 August. 
 
 "My servant-girl's father has been sick so 
 long. I want to give her this certificate, be- 
 sides several little necessities, for Christmas." 
 
 "I can't give her cash," she added sharply. 
 "I am not in a position to do that." 
 
 "A jolly substitute for cash," laughed 
 Herman merrily. 
 
 "My, but that is an awful present I" said 
 Mrs. Bomberling unusually emotional, "the 
 old man may get well again." 
 
 "Then he saves the certificate for later 
 on. We are all mortal. Some day he'll 
 need it well enough." 
 
 Although her mouth could only smile, her 
 voice had become unpleasantly sharp. 
 
 Bomberling, who loved peace and quiet 
 above all, had taken out his note-book to 
 make out the desired certificate. 
 
 Aunt Helen thanked and hurriedly stuck 
 the paper into her black-silk bag. 
 
 "The gift of a coffin- won't make a person 
 die any sooner," said she. "But if we are un- 
 
 122 
 
W^' 
 
 ^*rj^*'7*"f -/ 
 
 Babette Bomherling 
 
 lucky, we can break a finger in the nose — " 
 
 Bomherling had risen and was declaring 
 that he had to return to his ofiice in spite 
 of the dear guest. 
 
 "Don't let me keep you," said Aunt 
 Helen. "I'll enjoy staying alone with 
 Anna." 
 
 Anna looked weary. The forenoon had 
 been exhausting; she was used to a nap. 
 
 She said that she must go out almost im- 
 mediately — Christmas shopping. 
 
 "Then I'll accompany you," said Aunt 
 Helen cheerfully, and sat down again. 
 
 Herman said: 
 
 "If I'm not home in the evening. Pater — 
 don't worry — examinations coming — " 
 
 Babs begged to accompany her father; 
 she wanted to try the new typewriter. 
 
 "Is it thawing?" asked Bomherling 
 astonished. 
 
 But Babette had skipped off to fetch her 
 hat and coat. 
 
 Various doors opened and closed with a 
 bang. 
 
 "I must tell you that I have come on 
 Babette's account," said Aunt Helen as 
 
 123 
 
i»f|w«5W'i' '^ * ; 
 
 Babette Bomberling 
 
 soon as the house had quieted down. "I 
 trust you have realized — ^that she has reached 
 a marriageahle age?" 
 
 Mrs. Bomberling was extraordinarily 
 astonished. She had not dreamt of such a 
 thing. 
 
 Aunt Helen remarked how fortunate it 
 is that we have relatives. Mothers are so 
 often blind to their children's welfare. 
 
 She had met a young man, wealthy, 
 young and charming. For the first time 
 she regretted that she had no children, no 
 daughter. 
 
 Mrs. Bomberling was silent. People are 
 skeptical about ideas emanating from the 
 family circle; wonders do not usually come 
 from that source. 
 
 Aunt Helen continued: 
 "A highly cultured man, understands 
 every foreign word, and runs everything 
 with steam." 
 
 Anna yawned, but asked what he might 
 be driving with steam. 
 
 "His sausage factory, naturally," said 
 Aunt Helen triumpantly. "Founded by his 
 father. A gold-mine 1" 
 
 124 
 
l!^Vv'T^Vv3*?rHCs '*?i^T7™ .- ; ■"* -^ '7'Kr»?i^-< ^-ir^irv^ 
 
 Babette BomherUng 
 
 "NEVER," said Mrs. Bomberling, and 
 got up. 
 
 It was time to go Christmas shopping. 
 
 Silently they got ready and took the 
 street-car. 
 
 "A sausage factory is no disgrace," said 
 Aunt Helen, when they had squeezed into 
 the crowded car. 
 
 Mrs. Bomberling was thinking of the 
 nobleman, and planned to have herself 
 weighed at the department store. 
 
 "You shouldn't crave what you can't 
 get." Aunt Helen was speaking again. 
 "Of course, you'U want a title for her, Uke 
 some of your swell friends." 
 
 She laughed loudly. 
 
 The car had gotten speed now, and the 
 rattle and clank on the frozen pavement, 
 made all these intimate revelations totally 
 indistinguishable. 
 
 Anna only saw Helen laughing, so she 
 smiled politely. 
 
 They conversed this way until they 
 reached their destination. 
 
 There was a dense crowd in the shop, 
 pushing as in a steam-driven sausage-ma- 
 
 125 
 
-Vv :;i*ffT«ft™!^BB»r:« 
 
 Bdbette Bomberling 
 
 chine. Mrs. Bomberling remarked that 
 there were astonishingly many pretty young 
 girls. They pushed merrily. Would all 
 these get a husband sooner or later? 
 
 She leaned against Helen, who was 
 breaking a way for them with her sharp and 
 bony elbows. She cleared her throat and 
 said : 
 
 "Of course, you can bring your new ac- 
 quaintance to us, if you care to. The friends 
 of our relations are our friends too." 
 
 Paul had just concluded that thaw could 
 not be expected yet — ^when Babette stood 
 before him. 
 
 Bomberling, who followed, hurriedly 
 slipped off his fur coat, saying: "She wants 
 to learn typewriting — take her in hand, I'm 
 busy." 
 
 A large order had come. A mining catas- 
 trophe. The price had not yet been agreed 
 on. 
 
 Bomberling was already at the telephone. 
 "Once our customer, always our customer," 
 he yelled. 
 
 Babette drew Paul into the second room 
 where the typewriters were. Paul had his 
 
 126 
 
!^!sr7??^^K7^ f^^'v^ ' "-"• -^^~ r^?^^f'r.™>'^y/.' ~i^ v.-i^^ ■'■ ^-^tj ■ ^^swjiww. ' ' ' ■ ^'-sw^; 
 
 Babette Bomberling 
 
 hand at his neck — "You must pardon, Ba- 
 bette my tie has — " 
 
 Babs laughed, "Who would notice such 
 things here?" she comforted him. 
 
 And then she said that she had come on 
 his account. With a great and solemn plea, 
 he must speak with papa and mamma. She 
 lacked the courage. 
 
 "Babette!" cried Paul. It seemed as 
 though he would seize her, but he only took 
 hold of the nearest chair-back. 
 
 "Yes," said Babs, "I can't stand it at 
 home. Breakfast, lunch, dinner that is the 
 routine. Tuesday fish, Wednesday roast 
 beef and Sunday chicken. I can predict 
 for years ahead. I am stifling under it all." 
 
 "And I — actually I — " said Paul. 
 
 "Yes, you must tell jthem, for I shall 
 never marry. I know it now." 
 
 "Oh— Oh— " said Paul. He released the 
 chair. "But what do you want?" 
 
 "To work. Since Herman won't, I should 
 like to take over papa's factory later on." 
 
 Paul smiled. As she stood before him, 
 slender, fair and charming, — she, the femi- 
 
 127 
 
'F:<T?~-, '■ ' ■■' ■ ' ■■ J • 
 
 Bahette Bomherling 
 
 nine head of a coffin factory I — ^he burst out 
 laughing. 
 
 Babs blushed violently. 
 
 She said there was nothing to laugh at. 
 
 Since centuries she had been suppressed. 
 That was over now. 
 
 Paul said that she did not show the cen- 
 turies. 
 
 "You have suppressed women," corrected 
 Babs, "but that is ended." 
 
 And now Paul had many of the thoughts 
 and theories of the thrashed student of eco- 
 nomics recited to him. 
 
 "I shall eventually enlarge and improve 
 all this, and I shall use my fortune to found 
 an orphan asylum." 
 
 For Babs loved little children dearly. 
 
 Paul continued to smile and said that she 
 was progressing enormously, that she ran 
 one, two, three over the whole of life. 
 
 Babs declared that if he mock her today, 
 she would dismiss him as soon as she had a 
 word to say, but if he would stand by her, 
 she would engage him for life. 
 
 Paul called this bribery. But he was a 
 mere man — ^he would help her. 
 
 128 
 
 -J 
 
''fP!'tWT*'IMUIiAV*.'"" ."rT^.~~*''v^"^^^ 
 
 Babette Bomherling 
 
 He asked what she wished to learn. ,., ^ 
 
 "Everything." I 
 
 Paul suggested beginning with bookkeep- 
 ing and stenography. 
 
 Babs removed her charming turban, 
 pushed back the blond curl that the moment- 
 ous talk had loosened, and sat down. 
 
 Paul got a big new book of accounts and 
 
 took the place at her side. He commenced 
 
 by explaining that double entry, called 
 
 Italian, was the usual form of bookkeeping 
 
 — debit and credit. 
 
 Attentively Babette moved closer to 
 Paul. 
 
 The further women strive from men, the 
 nearer they approach them. 
 
 A mother rushes from one duty to an- 
 other. 
 
 Mrs. Bomherling decided that she must 
 do something to get thinner. She would not 
 risk Babette's chance of happiness a second 
 time. 
 
 Helen had mentioned a physician yester- 
 day who cured wealthy people to emacia- 
 tiun. She must hunt him up. 
 
 But in the forenoon she must trim the 
 
 129 
 
'«y^^';.?/CT^-c>'i■',?^'^'^■^C^■'y;5l5!5r^«i^^ 
 
 Babette Bomherling 
 
 tree. Day after tomorrow was Christmas. 
 
 Babs helped her mother with the decora- 
 tions. Her territory was the top of the 
 spruce where Mrs. Bomherling did not dare 
 climb. From a chair, mounted on a table, 
 she fastened a large, golden star to the top, 
 and directly beneath it a fat, wax angel, 
 that blew "Peace on earth" from a glass 
 bugle. 
 
 Meanwhile Babs spoke of her plans, of 
 work and independence. 
 
 Mrs. Bomherling, with head tilted, looked 
 whether the gold tinsel was well distributed. 
 Ever and again she shook another tinsel- 
 filled envelope over the branches. 
 
 She did not take Babs's words to heart. 
 
 She knew from her charity club that all 
 young girls of her age talked that way. AH 
 the ladies had complained about it. 
 
 One must not contradict them, but rather, 
 see to it that they meet the right man soon. 
 
 "You'll see all I can do. I'll have a 
 career," called Babette from on Wgh and 
 set the fat angel swinging. 
 
 "You won't have to," Mrs. Bomherling 
 
 180 
 
 ■*-»^j4.: 
 
■■"■■■■ '•'■ '' '■ ■'■■ , ■- . ' ' '_' # "■", '- '■-",. _, ■ ' ;, 
 
 Babette BomherUrvg 
 
 said gently and handed her daughter an 
 extra large package of tinsel. 
 
 "If it amuses you, you may learn a little 
 bookkeeping. Who knows, it may be use- 
 ful later on." And she thought Babette's 
 household would be so large some day that 
 she would need double entry. 
 
 In the afternoon she called up the famous 
 physician. 
 
 His housekeeper answered saying that the 
 doctor could be consulted only in the fore- 
 noon, that his practice was so extensive, he 
 had to attend a funeral every afternoon. 
 
 Mrs. Bomberling made an appointment 
 for the next morning. In spite of Christ- 
 mas, she wanted to start reducing before 
 New Year*s. 
 
 Anna was not used to medical consulta- 
 tions. She had always been healthy, even 
 her teeth still sat in a faultless row. 
 
 All this was apparent to the doctor at 
 the first glance while he asked Mrs. Bom- 
 berling to take a chair. 
 
 She' was embarrassed. She had expected 
 a doctor with a gray beard and spectacles, 
 [nstead she sat opposite a man who was 
 
 131 
 
.»v-"^' 
 
 •-7rr?5?7W'K".'«^*^^;?>*??«?» 
 
 Bahette Bomberling 
 
 measuring her with sharp eyes from a clean- 
 shaven face. 
 
 On the recital of her complaints, he stated 
 that she had evidently done physical work 
 in her youth; that she was not of city origin. 
 
 Mrs. Bomberling hesitated, twisting the 
 golden chain of her lorgnette. 
 
 The doctor said that she must confide 
 everything to her physician. That she could 
 rely on him absolutely. 
 
 So Mrs. Bomberling confessed to the 
 paternal smithy, to washing the laundry in 
 the brook, and finally even to the house- 
 work. But added that that was all in the 
 dim and distant past. 
 
 "So I see," said the doctor. 
 
 Anna could not determine whether that 
 remark was due her sables or herself. 
 
 jN ow the physician began to speak. Qiiiet- 
 ly and to the point, he declared it is an un- 
 fortunate fact, and one not to be gainsaid, 
 that prosperity is imhealthy and harmful. 
 Every soul needs its body, but that it gets un- 
 comfortable when it increases continuously. 
 
 He smiled while disgusting words like, 
 fatty degeneration of the heart, arterioscle- 
 
 132 
 
'fff^^'''''^'*"'^pw'!P3"T^''?^"PPiwp^p^ -^pppi^PiMSPiiiliippilir 
 
 Babette Bomberling 
 
 rosis, and many others, gruesomely mys- 
 terious, passed his hps. 
 
 "Must I die?" stammered Mrs. Bomber- 
 ling, her light blue eyes brimming. 
 
 "That depends wholly lupon yourself," 
 said the doctor with a polite inclination. 
 
 Anyone would have been delighted with 
 this answer. 
 
 Mrs. Bomberling dried her tears, and gave 
 confident attention to what was forthcoming. 
 
 She was questioned whether she could 
 not simply resume all the housework 
 again. 
 
 She had to reply that this would be im- 
 possible. The maids would not respect her, 
 and she couldn't dismiss them either. What 
 would the world say to that? The janitor and 
 her friend the widow, her acquaintances and 
 the baroness? No. 
 
 "Then we must resort to gymnastics," in- 
 terrupted the doctor — "trunk forward bend, 
 knee-bend — " 
 
 He noted a lot of exercises and explained 
 them. 
 
 "Creeping on all fours has produced ex- 
 ceptional results," he continued. 
 
 133 
 
-t''C1:TS(JW!!'»'w.v,v' ; .- ■•ri5v'^.;Ty'»^-;)n^7r-^jj •...--.■«.> ■'^- r-.- '■■^', - -^T'Tr;. .-,r. •^^•. 'y '•'*t>>'T'V-''w>".'\v 
 
 •w,'^-;iT/>|.- --.'r:-i5«!r:3t!^^(3(r?' 
 
 Babette Bomberling 
 
 "Creep around your bedroom, morning, 
 noon and night." 
 
 "Creep?" asked Mrs. Bomberling sur- 
 prised. 
 
 "You needn't let it embarrass you, he said 
 calmly. "The women of the upper Four-hun- 
 dred are doing it. It is really fashionable." 
 
 He was turning the pages of a note-book. 
 He was searching for something. 
 
 "Now we come to the diet," he said get- 
 ting more lively. 
 
 "Do you like to eat chocolate? Sweets? 
 Pastry?" 
 
 "Inmiensely," said Mrs. Bomberling well 
 pleased. 
 
 "Excellent," said the doctor. 
 
 "But I have heard that sweets — ^" 
 
 Mrs. Bomberling looked «;t the ^doctor 
 with shy embarrassment. 
 
 "Are to be absolutely avoided. Quite 
 right," continued the physician. "But I 
 would advise you to eat a piece of candy be- 
 fore each meal. Th*t will kill your appetite. 
 It is important that you eat very little and 
 nothing fatty, and when you are thirsty, 
 don't drink, just rinse your mouth." 
 
^!?^!fp^!f'y>!^^Sl^^!W^^WJ^t^^W^^ 
 
 '7»!|°"»^T'! JiWW».«iWiWIN! ■-; -.' 
 
 Babette Bomherling 
 
 Mrs. Bomberling was given a diet. It 
 was not as long as the list of exercises. 
 
 Then she paid and was dismissed. 
 
 As she passed through the door, she 
 stopped to ask whether all this would really 
 help her. 
 
 "Doubtlessly, my dear madam. An ele- 
 phant would emaciate from it.'' And punc- 
 tuated her pleading look with a polite bow, 
 which however came to a brief end, for he 
 had taken out his watch and opened the door 
 
 of the waiting-room. 
 
 * * * * * 
 
 It was Christmas Eve. A family party. 
 
 But a party with just the members of the 
 family is no fun. It only has that appear- 
 ance. 
 
 All dressed up, those who are accustomed 
 to seeing each other continually, must beam 
 on one another, as though they scarce knew 
 another's name. That is uncomfortable! 
 
 Bomberling stood at the gift table in the 
 drawing-room admiring the seal of the 
 
 Egyptian mummy. 
 
 "You are holding it upside down, my 
 dear," said Anna. "The man from whom I 
 
 Its 
 
, ',y ■ -■ H ■ -' •-«rS;._,-'-y7»t-anr.' 
 
 Babette BomherUng 
 
 bought it, showed me from which side to 
 look at it." 
 
 August gazed at the hieroglyphics from 
 the other side obediently. 
 
 Babette and Herman played a Christmas 
 carol for piano and violin*. 
 
 On the curve of the piano lay a heart of 
 almond paste, Hilda Wagner had sent it. 
 It carried Babette's thoughts to tender 
 memories. 
 
 Herman was thinking that he would be 
 accompanying Liane's songs on this same 
 violin tomorrow. He played with a lot of 
 feeling. ^ \':\^^ 
 
 Their parents sat in the great armchairs. 
 
 Anna was drying her tears with a hand- 
 kerchief. How beautifully the children were 
 playing I How refined I This playing would 
 have edified the most aristocratic man. 
 
 She was vexed with Bomberling, who sat, 
 staring at the Christmas tree, plainly show- 
 ing that music was but inconsequent noise 
 to him. 
 
 Bomberling was thinking of the past, of 
 the days when the children's music consisted 
 of tin trumpets. He was young in those 
 
 136 
 
r»Wi^*r-.^' ''*:"■.- . ■■ ■ V- '■ ' ■• - ; . ' '■*■ ' ^^■'K"''y^-^^^f^''-y?:^ . -■" ■^/^--> ■ . •fp*??%T^'T^^ 
 
 Babette BomberUng 
 
 days, and had spoken his mind without fear 
 of etiquette. 
 
 The music ceased. They went to dinner. 
 
 As quietly as the candles on the tree, the 
 hours of the evening simmered out, until 
 they could bid one another "good-night." 
 
 Mrs. Bomberling had given herself a 
 Christmas present. A small pair of scales 
 which would indicate her daily loss of 
 weight. 
 
 She followed the doctor's instructions with 
 her entire innate righteousness. 
 
 Three times a day she crawled like a turtle 
 and went through her" exercises like a re- 
 cruit. That was exhausting, but she en- 
 dured it all with a secret, beatific smile. She 
 knew she was doing something for Babette's 
 happiness. 
 
 Radiant with confidence, she looked to- 
 ward the New Year that was to begin with 
 the owner of the five-story house. 
 
 Before that came New Year's Eve. 
 
 The Christmas tree was lit a second time, 
 but today the little lights snapped and 
 flickered merrily. Laughter and chattering 
 enlivened the air. Not only were Hilda and 
 
 137 
 
I-"' ■' ' ' ' , ■' ' -■;■: ■; .■«■•■ ■.■v.;., •-• . ^ \ '■ I-:;..':?: 
 
 Babette BomherUng 
 
 Paul there. Between Uncle Albert and 
 Aunt Helen sat the new acquaintance — ^the 
 sausage manufacturer, Christian Sebold. 
 
 When Christian Sebold was introduced 
 to Mrs. Bomberling, that good soul had to 
 master her enthusiasm not to hold both hands 
 out to him. With a thrill in her heart she 
 looked across at Babs, who was joking with 
 Paul. Here was a man to please anyone. 
 Large and broad-shouldered, with a vigor- 
 ous blond moustache and a colored velvet 
 vest with the most adorable buttons, dis- 
 tinguished and genial. 
 
 They became acquainted immediately. He 
 sat among them all as though he had always 
 sat there, and whatever they talked about, 
 he was well versed in. 
 
 Hilda Wagner mentioned Italy. Her 
 aunt was going there. 
 
 "An advanced and competent land," ex- 
 claimed Christian Sebold, stroking his 
 moustache. 
 
 They inquired interestedly whether he had 
 ever been there. 
 
 "No," said he, "not yet, but I am in con- 
 tinual commimication with it. AH the mer- 
 its 
 
 •■■»^** 
 

 Babette Bomherling 
 
 tadella from Bologna, all the salami from 
 Napoli of the gulf of Napoli, Italia." 
 
 "What euphony!" remarked Mrs. Bom- 
 herling. 
 
 And thus their conversation ran on, pleas- 
 ant, lively and instructive. 
 
 Only Uncle Albert was tired. 
 
 "No wonder," said Aunt Helen. "He 
 never gets among people. We are alone at 
 home every evening." 
 
 We are often more candid than we realize. 
 
 Christian Sebold got out his letter-case. 
 
 "All that can be altered," he said cordial- 
 ly to Aunt Helen handing her a pass to the 
 "Gloom Dispellers' Club" of which he was 
 president. 
 
 "Agreeable entertainment for everyone 
 that comes, every evening." 
 
 "Conversation!" said Albert unpleasant- 
 ly. "Each waits till the other has stopped 
 talking, only so he may begin again. That's 
 aU." 
 
 He had a slight liver complaint, and had 
 been scrapping with Aunt Helen all day 
 long. She had called his house-shoes, night- 
 shoes. He had explained that one said 
 
 199 
 
Babette Bomberling 
 
 morning-shoes too. Whereupon she had de- 
 clared that one was as good as another. He 
 was only waiting till they were alone agfun. 
 
 "Let us end the old year merrily," sang 
 out Christian Sebold, hitting Uncle Albert 
 good-naturedly on the shoulder. 
 
 "His wife will lead a happy existence," 
 thought Mrs. Bomberling. 
 
 It deUghted her that Babette joked and 
 laughed a lot with Christian Sebold. She 
 was quite different from the last few days. 
 
 Babs thought Freddy might ask his sis- 
 ter how Babette had been on New Year's 
 Eve. Gay, very gay, should be Hilda's 
 answer. 
 
 For ,tha(t reason she played the piano, 
 sang, and solved the conundrums put by 
 Christian Sebold. 
 
 When it struck twelve, they filled their 
 glasses. 
 
 "For luck and health and happiness," 
 sang out Christian Sebold, going to each one 
 with a firm step. 
 
 Bomberling did not join in all this. He 
 only went to Babette and gently caressed 
 her hair. 
 
 140 
 
l5;?[3iip^/ru;:.'-;j»r-fT'-y,v.';J •;'Tr.v,"} y -.--i- ; ■^.'<v"-^;«f7 ^.''^T'WsST^ssVT^ 
 
 Babette Bomberling 
 
 Mrs. Bomberling said, her handkerchief 
 to her nose : 
 
 "It's a great pity our Herman isn't here 
 tonight." 
 
 An important engagement with a friend, 
 was keeping Herman from home. 
 
 "We musft stmnble over the sill of the 
 New Year together, old dear," Liane had 
 said — 
 
 "Have you wished Mr. Sebold, *Happy 
 New Year,' my child?" asked Mrs. Bomber- 
 ling, giving her Babette a New Year's kiss. 
 
 "I suppose so," said Babs. 
 
 "Do you like this fat sausage man?" asked 
 Paul. 
 
 "I suppose so," said Babs, yawning a 
 little. 
 
 They broke up late — 
 
 Today Mrs. Bomberling didn't crawl 
 around her room, although Bomberling had 
 fallen asleep immediately and would have 
 noticed nothing. She said to herself that 
 Christian Sebold was so broad-minded, he 
 would not care whether the mother of his 
 bride weighed a pound more or less. 
 
 Reassured that there were still some good 
 
 141 
 
;yi^»JIS»J -^-r'-'-f 
 
 Babette Bomherling 
 
 men in the world, she soon fell asleep, 
 
 smiling. 
 
 « * « « « 
 
 New Year's Day dawned, gray and 
 morose, as though it were a tatter of the 
 old year. 
 
 Bomherling rode to his office. The fac- 
 tory was naturally closed, but the office had 
 to be open. No hoUday was holy for the 
 great agent, who restlessly cared for the 
 turnover of Bomberling's wares. 
 
 Babette had gone to church with Hilda. 
 She was curious to see if it were true that 
 the new parson who was said to be a poet, 
 could preach so wonderfully. 
 
 In the afternoon they were going sleigh- 
 ing with Christian Sebold. 
 
 Mrs. Bomherling was counting the sil- 
 ver that had been used last evening. The 
 fragrance of a big roast and the whiff of 
 baked apples came from the kitchen. She 
 was in a holiday mood. 
 
 Then came a piercing shriek from the 
 maid in the adjoining room. 
 
 Thumps and a clash. 
 
 Mrs. Bomherling rushed in just in time 
 
 142 
 
^'^BI^:f'^Uk^''-!'^iyf[<^:^-^'r~..- ■ 7»i.-7 • . .-"sv" -.■■^;^i?''V!-^t^:^f}''y^^-ir^'/"-"':\' '- ..- -KTw^'T'-\v'"-Kfj.^ 
 
 Babette Bomherling 
 
 to see Napoleon melt into the snowy dis- 
 tance, like a little butter-ball. A moment 
 more and he was gone. 
 
 He seemed to prefer his liberty to im- 
 prisonment, just like his illustrious predeces- 
 sor, the great Napoleon. 
 
 They inquired through the whole neigh- 
 borhood, hoping he had flown into one of 
 the nearby windows, but everyone had only 
 his own bird in its cage. 
 
 The janitor's wife said that the police 
 ought to be notified. They might be able 
 to help. They could have all the neighbor- 
 ing houses searched. Perhaps even find him. 
 
 Mrs. Bomherling hastened to the tele- 
 phone and called up the nearest station- 
 house. 
 
 But a dicky-bird can escape more quickly 
 than be caught. First Mrs. Bomherling had 
 to state the name, address and occupation of 
 the owner. 
 
 Then they asked: 
 
 "When did the canary fly away?" 
 
 "Where to?" 
 
 Unfortunately Mrs. Bomherling didn't 
 know this. 
 
 148 
 
• ■*/> t^r^iT*.- "> . 
 
 Babette Bomberling 
 
 "Especial marks of identification?" 
 
 "Yellow," cried Mrs. Bomberiing. 
 
 "Surname?" 
 
 "Napoleon." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 "Napoleon." 
 
 Now there was a pause. 
 
 Mrs. Bomberling could distinctly hear 
 the turning of pages. Then nothing 
 further. 
 
 "Are you there?" criec^ Mrs. Bomber- 
 ling. 
 
 "Not there, but here. Say, tell me with 
 how many 'p's' you write Napoleon." 
 
 Mrs. Bomberling hesitated. She didn't 
 know, and little Napoleon might be de- 
 voured by a cat at any moment! 
 
 "With two," Ishe cried desperately de- 
 cisive. Rather too many than too few, 
 thought she. 
 
 "All right, when we get him, you shall 
 have him. Good-bye." 
 
 As Mrs. Bomberling hung up the receiv- 
 er and turned around quite exhausted, she 
 found a dapper little man standing before 
 her. He bowed before Mrs. Bomberling, 
 
 14)4 
 
;..«r-T'^;:-«Ti''"'i .^. 
 
 Babette Bomherling 
 
 his yellow-gloved hands neatly holding a 
 top-hat and a hunch of roses. 
 
 He hoped he was not disturbing and ex- 
 cused his entering through the wide-open 
 door. He was bringing a greeting from her 
 friend the professor's widow. Besides, 
 miglit he permit himself to remark that to 
 the best of his modest knowledge. Napoleon 
 was spelt with only one "p." 
 
 The Httle man was the owner of the five- 
 story house, but Mrs. Bomherling thought 
 Napoleon's finder was before her. Joy- 
 ously, she cried: 
 
 "Have you got him?" 
 
 The smiling Kttle man reiterated that he 
 had nothing to bring but the regards of her 
 friend. 
 
 At last Mrs. Bomherling understood. 
 
 She measured him with a brief but severe 
 look. She compared him with Christian Se- 
 bold. That was his finish. 
 
 "Prill," said the little man and bowed, 
 alarmed before the august stare. "Rentier 
 Prill." 
 
 "An unfortunate moment," said Mrs. 
 BomberUng. 
 
 145 
 
•": ■ ry^-': ■ -if 
 
 Babette Bomherling 
 
 "I heard so. I regret it extremely, but if 
 we wait, the little birdie will come back," 
 said Mr. Prill, sitting down and placing 
 the roses carefully on the center table. Mrs, 
 Bomherling sat down too; her knees were 
 trembling. She was speechless. She could 
 only fan herself with her perfumed hand- 
 kerchief. 
 
 "Has your daughter flown away too?" 
 the visitor asked, and bleated a short laugh. 
 
 A shriek from an adjoining room pre- 
 •^ vented a reply. 
 
 The maid ran in, and not noticing the 
 stranger, screamed: 
 
 "Another one is missing.'' 
 
 Mrs. Bomherling reproved her severely. 
 She pointed out that she never had but one 
 bird, consequently no second one could be 
 gone. 
 
 Only after a lot of parley, did they learn 
 that the maid was talking about Herman. 
 She had wanted to waken the young master 
 but no one had answered. Then she entered 
 and found the bed undisturbed. The young 
 master had not come home, and it was noon. 
 
 Mr. Prill got up. 
 
 146 
 
»''f?\r^- -■ 
 
 Babette Bomberling 
 
 "Then I really must not disturb any long- 
 er," bowed and left. 
 
 He took the roses too. Extreme gener- 
 osity was quite unnecessary. The baroness 
 had given him several other axidresses. 
 
 Mrs. Bomberhng never noticed his going. 
 She telephoned August, her good, beloved 
 August. He could advise. 
 
 Bomberling answered that he would come 
 home directly. His Anna should not lose 
 courage. "Let us hope the boy is safe and 
 sound." 
 
 Before he started, he called up the police. 
 When he mentioned his name, they aston- 
 ished him, by reporting that up to now the 
 search was in vain. Who could tell where 
 he might have flown to. In his excitement 
 Bomberling did not bother about the strange 
 answer, but hurried home. 
 
 Anna stood at the window of the music 
 room. She was shaking her head. So Her- 
 man had not arrived. 
 
 While Bomberhng was paying the chauf- 
 feur, a second taxi stopped. 
 
 After a while the door opened, and then, 
 
 14T 
 
 t^L^.. 
 
■■•■ ■■••.'. y:r ■■.■*■■■■: riiTlfr^.^Tipt 
 
 Babette Bomberling 
 
 gradually, some one climbed out. It was 
 Herman. 
 
 He blinked at the other car and then be- 
 gan to search his pockets for money. It 
 seemed in vain. 
 
 Bomberling looked up to Anna. Beam- 
 ing with happiness the parents' eyes met. 
 Bomberling approached Herman, who was 
 still going through his pockets and said: 
 
 "All right, my boy, I'U pay." 
 
 Herman blinked at Bomberling a while, 
 then he said: 
 
 "Oh, it's you, Dad. Why, hello. I guess 
 I'm a little late tonight. You'll pardon me, 
 won't you?" 
 
 He tipped his hat and reeled into the 
 house. Upstairs Anna stood in the door- 
 way. 
 
 "My son," said she in tears, and tried to 
 embrace him. 
 
 But Herman dodged. 
 
 "Stop the rain, Mom, stop the rain," said 
 he and rocked past her towards his room, 
 like a sailboat in a storm. 
 
 And that afternoon, when Christian Se- 
 bold drove up with the ringing of sleigh- 
 
 148 
 
^ • -I ^■■iz-^'^lfi%i 
 
 Babette Bomherling 
 
 bells, Napoleon's twittering could not be 
 heard in the quiet apartment — but Her- 
 man's loud snoring. 
 
 Babette wouldn't go sleighing. She had 
 scattered bird-seed on all the window-sills 
 and was looking out. 
 
 It was getting dark already. Tears 
 dripped from her eyes. 
 
 "I'll go look for him once more, Babette," 
 said Paul and went out quietly. 
 
 Bomberling couldn't bear to see her cry 
 either. 
 
 "I'm going for a little walk," he said, 
 after a while. 
 
 Christian Sebold remained) seated, and 
 drank hot coffee with audible relish. 
 
 "A canary is nothing so very precious," 
 said he. "I'll bet such a little creature, even 
 with all its feathers doesn't weigh a quarter 
 of a pound." 
 
 The bell rang. The maid announced a 
 Mr. Kippenbach. 
 
 A young man entered, dressed in the very 
 latest fashion. He bowed and explained 
 that he lived across the street, and knew 
 the blond, youn^ lady by sight, that he had 
 
 149 
 
 T 
 I 
 
Babette Bomherling 
 
 something for her. He brought a little box 
 from mider his coat, and Babette found 
 Napoleon nestling in it. 
 
 Joy was great. Her rapture was de- 
 lightful. 
 
 Mr. Kippenbach was invited to sit down. 
 
 He looked around and said. 
 
 "What an attractive home." 
 
 Then he explained that he was the son 
 of Kippenbach & Son, player-pianos. 
 
 "How very interesting," said Mrs. Bomh- 
 erling and remarked that they had a con- 
 cert grand. 
 
 "Nice enough, but not up-to-date,' 
 answered Kippenbach smiling. "Look 
 here — who wants to practice for years in 
 our restless age, all in order to make a little 
 music on Sundays? That can't be expected 
 any more. Now however — ^whoever wants 
 music — ^this ennohUng Art, thait lifts us out 
 of our drudgery, the everyday world — sits 
 down at his player-piano — and has his d^ 
 sires fulfilled. 
 
 "Then I go to the opera," said Christian 
 Sebold, playing with his watch-chain. This 
 Mr. Kippenbach grated on him. 
 
 150 
 
• !?<Si?;7!i^|C^^5^^!3?Ba;ww^y^<vX ■ ■ 
 
 Babette Bomberling 
 
 Mrs. BomberKng sent a mediating smile 
 between the two blond men. Only when 
 Mr. Kippenbach mentioned that he was an 
 officer of the reserves, did her smile become 
 one-sided. Nothing is more variable than a 
 woman's favor. 
 
 Babs ran back and forth. She got bath- 
 water for Napoleon, and sugar and little 
 salad leaves. 
 
 Then Paul returned. He didn't observe 
 the stranger at the tea-table. Smiling hap- 
 pily he hurried to Babette. 
 
 "He who looks may find," said he un- 
 knotting a little cloth and letting Babette 
 peep in. 
 
 "How is that possible? Which one is the 
 right one now?" she asked and looked from 
 Paid to Mr. Kippenbach. 
 
 Now the apartment door was unlatched 
 and Bomberling came in smiling. 
 
 "Kippenbach," said Mr. Kippenbach 
 making a faultless bow. 
 
 Bomberling had not noticed him. He had 
 gone straight to Babette and was saying 
 tenderly : 
 
 'All you have to do is send out your 
 
 151 
 
 « 
 
"VvW ,'*" ■ , -yi^ ■'■ " :.■«.-•;■-.. i .«^-. ->. — ..•.— :..,-.-, ^,. ■ , - -• ..Tf" -1 ,.:-■■> ;-:.'rvT!'N';;^r<'W?r- 
 
 ] -■■•■' ;^;•^'^!f!■N".-•F^ 
 
 Babette Bomberling 
 
 father; then tears are unnecessary," and he 
 produced a pasteboard box over which he 
 held a sieve carefully, and under this sat 
 Napoleon. 
 
 Endless amazement. Exclamations — pro- 
 testations of the fortunate finders. 
 
 Christian Sebold rose. He was a man 
 too — rather — and one who might well wear 
 his income-tax return as a boutonniere. 
 They might pay more attention to him. 
 
 So he said now loudly, that he regretted to 
 be the only one here without a bird. He 
 wished Miss Babette continuous good luck 
 in the New Year, and departed. 
 
 Kippenbach, Bomberling and Paul gath- 
 ered in conference. Each was ready to 
 take his bird back. All three birds were 
 from the nearest fancier. He had sold all 
 three in spite of the Sabbath quiet — at a 
 fancy price, to be sure. 
 
 Babs fed all three and found that 
 each bore a striking resemblance to her 
 Napoleon. 
 
 They tried to have the birds decide for 
 themselves. They held up the cage and 
 called "Peep" and "Napoleon," but all three 
 
 152 
 
»^f)|[»P!j5r'.^,;f*!n7N,'Ty^^T;^j'^t ,'T Z"*' -'^^v. . ^-^y^'v'^-'fr^ f-z^-'^'^y^^^^f^^^^ . ■-^''^t '»7?'?'^=f*' ^^7 .J7^*r 
 
 Babette Bomberling 
 
 fluttered behind the sideboard, from which 
 they were extracted with a great deal of fuss 
 and bother. 
 
 Hence they decided to wait till the morn- 
 ing, and keep all here over night anyway. 
 
 Mr. Kippenbach pressed a long kiss on 
 Mrs. Bomberling's hand and one still longer 
 on Babette's slender fingers and took his 
 leave for the day. 
 
 Paul went too, because Mrs. Bomberling 
 could really not keep up any longer. The 
 excitements of this restless day suddenly 
 commenced to bear their consequences. Be- 
 sides she was continually hungry in spite of 
 the little piece of chocolate. She broke 
 down, crying hysterically, and seemed com- 
 pletely exhausted. 
 
 Babette tenderly put her mother to bed. 
 
 Bomberling promised to look after Her- 
 man, who seemed to have wakened, for his 
 snores had died out. 
 
 Only after Anna's tired limbs rested in 
 the cool linen was she able ot smile at her 
 Babette. 
 
 "If I could only know you were happy, 
 dear child,*' said she. 
 
 153 
 
..'■•^-~'^^yviw. 
 
 Bahette Bomberling 
 
 And after a while, her eyes ab*eady 
 closed, she murmured sleepily: 
 
 "Young Kippenbach seems a charming 
 person. I like his vest almost better than 
 Mr. Sebold's." 
 
 "I can only remember that both were gaily 
 colored," said Babette and smiled at herself 
 in the large pier-glass. 
 
 When we have once resolved never to 
 marry, mere men and their vests are no 
 longer upsetting. 
 
 In the mean time Bomberling had entered 
 his son's room. 
 
 Herman sat reading at his desk. He 
 didn't glance up. 
 
 "Come to supper, my boy," said Bomb- 
 erling. "Mamma has retired already and 
 Babette has a funny story to tell you." 
 
 Herman thought that his father was be- 
 having like a real sport. He should have 
 liked to shake his hand, but he kept stolidly 
 silent. 
 
 "Come now, my boy. If I know your 
 mother, there'll be a herring for you too." 
 
 Bomberling stood behind Herman's chair. 
 He should really have liked to pat the boy*s 
 
 154 
 
f7v'fVi'Vl^F\-f' ■"-".:-< - ■■■■ ■'•-'- ^.!^^ 
 
 Bahette Bomberling 
 
 thick mop of ^blond hair, but now that he 
 was a student, it probably would not do. 
 
 Herman got up, his eyes riveted to the 
 floor. 
 
 "You haven't by any chance taken my 
 watch; Papa?" he said. "Funny! It isn't 
 there, nor my scarf-pin, nor my wallet. Re- 
 markable! I can't find them anywhere." 
 
 Bomberling sat down and took up pen 
 and paper. 
 
 "Then we'd better insert a notice in the 
 newspapers. Tell me briefly where you 
 were." 
 
 But that was not told so briefly. It was 
 some time before the notice was set up. 
 
 The honest finder was given a great 
 chance to prove himself. Not only in the 
 turmoil of the city, but also in the vaude- 
 villes and in the red ballrooms, in the 
 black cabaret, in the cafe "Joy" and also 
 in the cafe "Rose of Dawn," he might have 
 come upon Herman Bomberhng's treasures. 
 
 But time takes time. Everything works 
 out. 
 When Bomberling went to investigate the 
 
 155 
 
■.^-. .*» ; >^,, >■ •: ' ^V,i^/^,y^*fvv7vn;* 
 
 Bahette BomberUng 
 
 weather the next morning, he found a ca- 
 nary sitting on the thermometer. 
 
 This was undoubtedly Napoleon, the 
 First. He entered his cage. The foisted 
 ones disappeared agaih. 
 
 Babette had new evidence of the falsity 
 of men. 
 
 But she found that something special 
 sounded in his song, since he had this ad- 
 venture. The others, however, could notice 
 nothing extraordinary, except that he was 
 hoarse. 
 
 Herman's treasures did not return. You 
 see they had no wings. Christian Sebold 
 stayed away too, perhaps for similar 
 reasons. 
 
 Instead Mr. Kippenbach was there, prac- 
 tically every evening. Since some time they 
 had known- that his name was William and 
 that he did not consider a coffin a worse piece 
 of furniture than a player-piano. 
 
 Business is business. 
 
 Whenever he came, he began with: 
 
 "Regards from my papa and little 
 mamma." 
 
 156 
 
^f5*f»?!^/^-^?^ -t3? "'•' ""^ ' r '^' T'U\::y-^^:: : JX'-^T'^ :^t^lpr^P'^ '• '• ~ .-'T^~>]'-' - ■ '^'t f - 
 
 Bahette Bomberling 
 
 That bound a kindly tie from family to 
 family. 
 
 Babs went to her father's factory every 
 afternoon to study with Paul. 
 
 The first days Bomberling had asked 
 with surprise, whether Paul had an invita- 
 tion for the evening. Paul was suddenly 
 dressed in the latest fashion — scarf and 
 socks of the same pale lavender and waist- 
 coat, dandified Uke that of Mr. Kippen- 
 bach. But he had no engagement for the 
 evening. 
 
 So the days and hopes ran on. One tore 
 the pages of the calendar, and was no longer 
 concerned whether the year was old or new. 
 
 But on Bomberling's face a mental worry 
 was pushing the broad serenity more and 
 more aside. 
 
 There was war in the Balkans. And if 
 this had never brought harm to coffin manu- 
 facture, it was bringing harm to Bomb- 
 erling. Aunt Helen was right. If we are 
 unlucky, we can break our fingers in our 
 noses. Large claims remained unpaid. 
 Stocks fell. 
 
 157 
 
 k. 
 
TJtr^»-yTf'' ' . ' 
 
 'V-rj.-'i- ■^:-?*Wi.r!'S^ 
 
 Babette BomherUng 
 
 But a disaster at home tortured Bomber- 
 ling apparently more. This threatened his 
 peace. The newspapers could keep him 
 posted on the European situation, but here 
 he stood before an enigma. 
 
 He had awakened before his usual time 
 one morning. With closed eyes, he was 
 puzzling over the intricate affairs of his 
 works. Then Anna softly raised her head 
 and asked: 
 
 "Are you asleep, August?*' 
 
 Not to be disturbed, he kept quiet. 
 
 Then something horrible took place. 
 
 Anna slipped quietly out of her bed, and 
 began to crawl heavily and yet with seeming 
 practice, all around the room. When she 
 had returned to her bed, a sigh burst from 
 her lips, and she lay down to sleep again. 
 
 Ice-cold pricks crept over Bomberling's 
 skin. He recalled forgotten fables. Be- 
 witched toads and crown-bearing frogs. He 
 did not remember the connection. He felt 
 the same gruesome horror as when he was 
 a child. 
 
 The following morning and many there- 
 after, he could witness the same hideous 
 
 158 
 
f^^Jlfj-ry; 
 
 Babette Bomherling 
 
 drama, that would now haunt his thoughts 
 all day long. 
 
 In the bright daylight we do not believe 
 in fairy tales. Bomberling said to himself 
 with terror, that Anna must be unbalanced. 
 
 He recalled the past weeks. He re- 
 membered one night at the theater, when 
 she had imagined all the young men were 
 looking lat her. There had been a bewildered 
 vacant smile on her face all evening. 
 Was that the beginning? He commenced 
 watching Anna. She had grown paler an"d 
 thinner. She scarcely a.te. When he was 
 out with her, she looked at all young men. 
 At times she would exclaim vivaciously: 
 
 "Isn't he distinguished looking. I wonder 
 who he is?" 
 
 He learned that a strange gentleman had 
 called on Anna New Year's Day, with a 
 bunch of roses. She had not told him any- 
 thing about this. She was much more cor- 
 dial to Mr. Kippenbach than Babette was, 
 and regretted daily that Christian Sebold 
 did not reappear. 
 
 Bomberling had no one to discuss this 
 with. He couldn't talk to the children. He 
 
 159 
 
^•^■',:,' : ' ' ■ •: : ,. ■; ^--i,'-.- ■ ■>;:... •'^^ . ■;/;■• ,!•;,,;:-; 'VS'XTJSV' >*■<•-. 
 
 I V'r*'^^J^.'5F* 
 
 Babette Bomherling 
 
 wouldn't to Paul, and he did not think of a 
 doctor. 
 
 He commenced cross-questioning his 
 business friends a bit about the mental life 
 of their wives. 
 
 What he heard there was often not nice. 
 
 There was evidently an age, when the 
 hearts of women do more than rejuvenate. 
 Where women are capable of any folly. 
 That this second youth usually came when 
 the first gray hairs were being pulled out. 
 At the period, when one has attained pros- 
 perity, the children lare going their own 
 way, and the servants taking care of the 
 household. Ennui brings this misfortune. 
 
 This was a wealthy lumber magnate's 
 solution of the physical problem. 
 
 "The best thing that can happen to hus- 
 bands is to have wives become athletic. 
 Why my wife roller-skates on our terrace 
 all day long. That isn't the worst thing in 
 the world." 
 
 "No indeed, that isn't the worst," said 
 Bomherling and stared vacantly beyond the 
 big man. 
 
 Another said: 
 
 160 
 
RWv^TT^-'-i^ 
 
 :^r^y'^3*Tr^^^=^'?i-^v^r '^v ' ?^^^^^ * ' i 'v:fM?^i?^^^^^?r^'^*l 
 
 Babette Bomberling 
 
 "That all passes. When they become 
 grandmothers everything is all right again." 
 
 Then Bomberling began to long for Ba- 
 bette's marriage too. That is to say, with 
 one side of his worried heart. The other 
 side desired never to part from his daughter. 
 
 Thus he was in a precarious position, 
 when an elderly gentleman introduced him- 
 self one afternoon, as the senior Kippen- 
 bach, and, after a few preliminary words, 
 asked for Babette's hand for his son 
 William. 
 
 Mr. Eappenbach was convinced that the 
 dhildren were suited to one another although 
 he had to admit that the business of his fac- 
 tory stood a little behind that of Bomber- 
 ling's undertaking. He emphasized regret- 
 fully that everyone in the world had to have 
 a coffin, but by far not a pianola. 
 
 But what is not yet, may come. Any- 
 way the young Kippenbachs should have 
 enough to live on, and he named the sum 
 that he thought should be Miss Bomber- 
 ling's dowry. 
 
 It was a fancy figure containing a great 
 many zeros. The sort that dances before 
 
 161 
 
inSJ^^^HT'^ ' • • ■• • -r-T-v^/ , .;V''^'>--' ■v-r;-.<:.-":''/vr;^, .;.■ ..--I -' *.":,*;';;:v^- 
 
 Babette Bomberling 
 
 one's eyes so lusciously and impressively, as 
 the first prize in a lottery. 
 
 Two sharp pairs of eyes measured one an- 
 other. Two sly business foxes smiled at 
 each other. 
 
 "We must ask my daughter, and my 
 wife," answered Bomberling calmly. 
 
 "Most assuredly," the other hastened to 
 say. He had not been able to glimpse the 
 slightest quiver in the other's features, 
 when he mentioned the remarkable sum. 
 That factory must stand even better than 
 he had been informed by the secret agency. 
 He was satisfied and impressed. 
 
 When Anna heard this news she was 
 pleased, at first. 
 
 Then she became thoughtful, and then 
 depressed. Her wishes had been over- 
 reached. The reality was too sudden. 
 
 This was to be decisive. No aristocrat, 
 now when she had lost ten pounds? 
 
 Babette no longer at home with August 
 and her, was to become a fact? Babette 
 Kippenbach? 
 
 Anna began to weep, and threw all the 
 responsibility of a decision on Bomberling. 
 
 162 
 
=»; ...- -: ;' .■.:t^.*c" "--«.'.'-Ts"p!5v'v/- ■■ '^yt^ -V '■ <\' ■S^Civi/'^.^*!'^ 
 
 Babette BomherUrvg 
 
 But Bomberling said no one should de- 
 cide but Babette herself. 
 
 ^ «' * # * 
 
 The seveenteen-year old girl sat in her 
 room, bent over books and papers. In the 
 middle of the table was a bowl of snow- 
 drops. 
 
 At business college Paul had used the 
 books that lay before Babs. There were 
 drawings along the margin of many a page. 
 Reflection or abstraction may have guided 
 Paul's hand in those days. Babette was 
 greatly amused by them. On one page 
 there was a little doll sucking a bottle. Paul 
 had said that this represented her. She had 
 been so small when he was learning in these 
 books. 
 
 Babette studied and learnt diligently. 
 She wanted Paul to praise her. Every after- 
 noon he extolled her quick perceptive ability 
 anew, whereas she admired his wide and 
 dear knowledge. They were thoroughly 
 satisfied with each other. 
 
 Babette was astonished when her father 
 and mother came in together. When she 
 
 108 
 
TTP>f^»S- - • V • •■■ .- • — ; • • .' . ■.;-.-.--.i- '•-,. T;--- :• .;m|- I ■ •■--•~^:'^f^- 
 
 Bahette Bomherling 
 
 saw their serious expressions, she was 
 alarmed. 
 
 Now they had surely heard of her esca- 
 pade with Freddy Wagner. This event of 
 her life was a continous torture to her. 
 
 "Don't be angry with me," she said and 
 got up. 
 
 "But we aren't angry with you," said 
 Anna embracing her with a great sob. 
 
 Bomherling turned hurriedly, and as 
 though fleeing before the Spring floods, 
 turned his back on all tears and ran out. 
 
 With great strides he wandered back and 
 forth, from Napoleon to the clock, from the 
 clock to Napoleon, without paying the 
 slightest attention to the appetizing pic- 
 ture that hung between them. 
 
 His thoughts made him warm. He would 
 have liked to run around in shirt-sleeves. 
 
 He was overcome with fury against all 
 this putting on airs. This tinpan-box 
 maker demanded a fortune as well as the 
 privilege of stealing his child from his home. 
 But the coffins that had made the money 
 remained a disgrace. When he was still as- 
 sociating with his own kind, he had had to 
 
 164 
 
g_-.--t-,. •/:' .- ■ , - .'. •■ '- ••-;-,'• ;->"■■ ■'^s-^V."'v '■.S''-:'^sr~^«';V;^-<' .; . . -'. './■i^.^vf^rvT's^fr- 
 
 Bahette Bomberling 
 
 hide before no one. Simple folks know: 
 who lives, must die. Who dies, requires a 
 coffin. For, who buys must pay. But the 
 swells would like life without death. They 
 love credit. 
 
 And then Bomberling's thoughts ran on 
 to his losses. , ; 
 
 Now he was boiling. He tore off his 
 collar. Never mind if Anna were shocked. 
 He was boss here. 
 
 However, he did snatch for the collar he 
 had flung aside, when Anna entered, fol- 
 lowed by Babs. 
 
 And she did not see that he looked 
 disheveled. 
 
 She had learned that Babette would 
 never marry: that she had nothing in her 
 mind but to study with Paul for the next 
 few years. 
 
 And when, with much embarrassment, she 
 had reminded Babs of her love for babies, 
 she had been told the plan of the orphanage. 
 She was exasperated, exhausted and dis- 
 couraged. 
 
 Now Bomberling heard everything. 
 Above all he grasped that this was a delay. 
 
 165 
 
f' iv^'iv-i'. \\'-f^-^ ' 
 
 .:., 
 
 Babette Bomberling 
 
 The girl would stay with him and his worry 
 about the dowry was postponed too. Hope 
 had come back to him. 
 
 He smiled contentedly and gave Babette 
 a kiss. 
 
 Babette repeated: 
 
 "Please don't be angry with me." Then 
 she scurried back to Paul's books. 
 
 This evening young Kippenbach failed to 
 come. 
 
 But the next day old Kippenbach sat be- 
 fore Bomberling again. 
 
 Every deed can be interpreted variously. 
 
 Babette's absolute refusal convinced him 
 that she was hopelessly in love with his son. 
 
 "She is just a dear obstinate child. She 
 doesn't want to admit it," said he. 
 
 And then he produced a copy of his bal- 
 ance sheet and proved anew how well the 
 children were suited to each other. 
 
 He suggested that Bomberling should 
 send his Kttle girl on a trip. That was the 
 thing to do in such cases. Traveling about 
 puts you in your place. 
 
 Bomberling would not promise any- 
 
 166 
 
f^yTH~%-';~i" .-■■•'. y ■ - .' ■ . . • ■ivi^-;-'- . ■ ■■■■'<i~^''vj^:^-:^ :p.^r:j^ :^ 
 
 Babette Bomberling 
 
 thing, but the suggestion bore fruit. 
 
 Not that he wished to do a favor to the 
 piano manufacturer. 
 
 He did not fear in the least that Babette 
 would suddenly want to become Mrs. Kip- 
 penbach on some lovely trip. 
 
 But a journey might benefit Anna's con- 
 dition. Were not the doctors always pre- 
 scribing this? 
 
 The atmosphere at home was murky with 
 tiu*bulence. 
 
 Daily he wanted to tell Anna to econo- 
 mize a httle, "to save for an automobile." 
 After much brooding he had thought of 
 this pretext, but he was apprehensive of 
 betraying himself in the discussion. He was 
 not accustomed to insincerity with Anna. 
 
 Now he was anxious to avoid all serious 
 discussions until Anna had regained her 
 health. A journey might do good and would 
 give him respite. 
 
 Thus it came about, that when Babette 
 announced excitedly one noon that Hilda 
 Wagner was going to accompany her aunty 
 to Rome, Bomberling asked her whether 
 
 167 
 
7iS^!f: 
 
 Babette Bomherling 
 
 she would like to go on such a trip too, with 
 her mamma. 
 
 Instantly the baroness' words flashed into 
 Mrs. Bomberling's mind. All the fortunate 
 possibilities of international life? Her eyes 
 commenced to glisten. 
 
 Babette spoke excitedly of Nero, of St. 
 Peter's and the catacombs. Then she re- 
 membered that all the flowers blossom at 
 once there in the Spring. Violets, lilies-of- 
 the-valley, lilacs and roses — and now 
 Spring was coming there. 
 
 She chattered enthusiastically. 
 
 These words made Bomberiing long des- 
 perately for rest. For unworried days. His 
 eyes looked far into space. 
 
 Then his look returned to the two blond 
 heads of his women. Anna was already 
 planning a bewitching traveling costume. 
 
 So the trip was a foregone conclusion. 
 
 Babette intended to continue her lessons 
 with Paul by mail. 
 
 The joy of anticipating the trip was, how- 
 ever, slightly dampened for both mother 
 and daughter. 
 
 Mrs. Bomberiing had never stepped be- 
 
 168 
 
s*C7"'.''n' 
 
 Babette Bomberling 
 
 yond the borders of her country. She 
 dreaded it. 
 
 Aunt Helen, who would have loved to 
 take such a trip immensely, fanned these 
 apprehensions with all her might. It was 
 her opinion that home was the only safe 
 place. She told of corpses in trunks, of cut- 
 off hands in the luggage-racks, of strangled 
 throats in long tunnels^ 
 
 Suddenly, Mrs. Bomberling did not see 
 why she must leave her peaceful home, with 
 the safety-catches on both doors, until she 
 recalled the international acquaintances — 
 Russian dukes and Enghsh lords. Aunt 
 Helen would have to make a pretty courtesy 
 when Babette returned, the bride of an arch- 
 duke. 
 
 Therefore she interrupted her sister-in- 
 law's gruesome descriptions smihngly, and 
 said: 
 
 "But Spring is marvelous down there. 
 You can't deny that." 
 
 With her sharp shoulders, Aunt Helen 
 dug two holes into the air, and countered 
 that she considered all this fuss about Spring 
 
 169 
 
 iya»4- 
 
-T«-.H ■ •.!.- '■-•■• ■f^,vr^•t.v^.,■^•••'T^i.■'>^■^ >:■»': r'i*. •■'?F\*7r' 
 
 Babette BomherUng 
 
 ridiculous. Winter would be back in five 
 months, anyway. 
 
 However, she had not made Mrs. Bom- 
 berling wholly sick of the trip. Anna's and 
 Babette's traveUng wardrobe had turned out 
 too well and becoming for that. 
 
 In the mean time, Paul was checking Ba- 
 bette's pleasure in the trip. 
 
 He had declared lessons by mail impos- 
 sible. Besides he would no longer believe 
 that Babette would never marry. On her 
 journey she would fall in love with the first 
 one that came her way. 
 
 This distrust offended Babs most intense- 
 ly. She turned her back on Paul, and did 
 not return for her lessons all the last days 
 before her departure. 
 
 Paul did not seem to miss her. 
 
 But when they were at the station and the 
 train was about to leave, Paul suddenly 
 stood between Bomberling and Herman at 
 the open door. He brought a bouquet of 
 roses for Anna and a little bunch of forget- 
 me-nots for Babette. 
 
 "I didn't want to be rude to your 
 
 170 
 
(P*^l^*«?!^r^'^.?--V-''Sr:^*T---!r v3^^^ ■ _; '., ■ -■■-' 7^T^i"--f- ^[^: 
 
 Bahette Bomherling 
 
 mother," whispered Paul while he gave 
 Bahs the flowers. 
 
 "Mamma doesn't seem to have missed you 
 at all," answered Babs, and tossed the 
 flowers to the rest of the luggage. 
 
 The locomotive whistled. 
 
 Bomberhng said to Babette : 
 
 "Take good care of mamma." 
 
 That was a joke that made them all laugh. 
 
 "Have a good time," cried Herman loud- 
 
 ly. _ _ \ :rM 
 
 "Aufwiedersehen," said Paul softly, but 
 Babette was bending out to smile at her 
 father. 
 
 The wheels conmienced to turn. A stiff 
 smile settled on all the faces. The station 
 was shding past and away from the train 
 at steadily increasing speed. 
 
 When cool meadows flew past outside 
 Babs took her httle bunch of forget-me-nots. 
 She straightened the bent blossoms care- 
 fully and tucked them into the V of her 
 dress. 
 
 Anna was leaning back and examining 
 her luggage. It looked smart. Her pride 
 sweUed. 
 
 171 
 
■jpTS^TIrT^ * ' - ' ■••:■-'' - r T^" . % • ■ *-' .>-! -■-<.■•,. I' •■ , 1 ■•■ ^ , .-■•^XE'" 
 
 Babette Bomherling 
 
 She listened whether the two ladies who 
 shared the compartment with them, were 
 remarking BahetJe's beauty. She was de- 
 lighted to discover that she could understand 
 none of their words. They were foreigners. 
 One felt so cosmopolitan. Satisfied she 
 leaned further back. Smiling, she bhnked 
 out at the world that danced past. 
 
 The hours rolled with the wheels. It dark- 
 ened. The train was already rushing head- 
 long through the black night. At intervals 
 a cluster of lights flashed by. One house 
 nestled against the next, and where there was 
 light in the windows, one bed nestled against 
 the next. The world was the same all over. 
 
 Anna was sleepy and content when they 
 reached the city where the sleeper was at- 
 tached. As( she stretched herself on the 
 narrow, trembling bed she thought of Bom- 
 herling sitting alone at the moment in the 
 big dining-room. In that peaceful, un- 
 changing room. At that instant she could 
 see through a crack in the curtain, how the 
 lights of the fleeing train played on sharp 
 mountain gulleys. She shrank back trem- 
 bling. It was really incomprehensible why 
 
 172 
 
■'w*?^*^" ■. ' . ."■ '■ '^'^■■"'■* ■ - T^v ■'"-■ •'^c'^":Tf>^--'=^%> ':^ -^^'"i-?:^^^''-?^^ :- 
 
 Babette Bomberling 
 
 Babette had turned down that charming 
 young Kippenbach. How comfortably 
 they mi^t all be sitting together now. 
 
 "Are you asleep, Babette?" she asked. 
 
 Nothing stirred in the upper berth. 
 
 "The sleep of innocence," murmured 
 Anna, smiling. 
 
 The wheels purred a slumber song. She 
 fell asleep. 
 
 Her regular breaths hardly had betrayed 
 this, when there were movements above her. 
 Babette sat up, pushed back the curtain and 
 stared out. 
 
 The faint moonshine indicated the way. 
 Mountain torrents raged down, frothing 
 furiously. Black pines soughed. The roof 
 of a hut, lost again in the flight, told that 
 people were creeping for shelter from the 
 night even here. Crowns of ice glistened 
 on the hght mountain crags. Wide mead- 
 ows slept serenely with their flowers, 'be- 
 neath the stars. 
 
 Tears dripped from Babette's eyes. 
 
 The train raced on through the night 
 toward the sourt;hem dawn, but when the 
 sun rose Babette had fallen asleep too. 
 
 178 
 
'vTVfWJ?^'; , ; . ^--t ■&••-'. • 'w •T-^»,-.-"---ri..^— J. ,T ^ ■•,..- ii--, T.-.^.!- :t>;i Tfv %7!."7':ri^TT'.;^.''^»»c?r7;rK^^^'<7j';(r 
 
 Babette Bomherling 
 
 Neither mother nor daughter had felt 
 that the busy wheels had stopped. That 
 people were no longer speaking the lan- 
 guage in which the Bomberlings communi- 
 cated, outside the curtained windows. 
 
 They did not even hear the knocking. 
 
 Slowly a key turned in the lock. 
 
 The door was opened. 
 
 Anna awoke and yelled shrilly: 
 
 "Help, Murder, Help." 
 
 She had visions of Aunt Helen, and all 
 the corpses in trunks. 
 
 The man who entered with the conductor, 
 smilingly said a few pleasant-sounding 
 words and made little crosses on their grips 
 with chalk, much in the manner in which 
 the shepherd back in Mrs. Bomberling's vil- 
 lage used to put marks on the sheep that 
 were to be slaughtered. Then the men had 
 disappeared. The train started to roll on. 
 Mrs. Bomherling had passed the boundary. 
 
 Babette had slept through it all peace- 
 fully. 
 
 "It was exceedingly simple," Mrs. Bom- 
 herling narrated afterwards in the diner, 
 when she had swallowed a cup of strong 
 
 174 
 

 Bahette Bomberling 
 
 coffee. "But it is just as well that it's over." 
 Soft meadows stretched beyond the wide 
 windows. Spring flowers were absorbing 
 the delicious sunshine. 
 
 "The sky is so much bluer than Paul's 
 forget-me-nots," said Babette and tossed the 
 wilted flowers out of the window. 
 
 When the train was leaving one of the 
 bustling stations a stranger stepped into 
 their compartment. He stumbled, stepped 
 on Anna*s new shoes and fell over her knee 
 into the seat beyond. Here he tipped his 
 hat and murmured, "Conte Spina-Spon- 
 telli." 
 
 But we never appreciate the acquaint- 
 anceships that are made too easy for us. 
 Anna, not honoring the stranger with so 
 much as a glance, looked severely at her new 
 shoe, which had gotten scratched diagonally 
 across its tip. 
 
 Not until they were a short distance from 
 Rome did she recall that the foreigner had 
 murmured "Conte." In a whisper she asked 
 Babette whether conte wasn't count. The 
 latter nodded. 
 
 175 
 
; T.'^^.'V^''^J 
 
 Babette BomherUng 
 
 Now Anna looked cautiously at the 
 stranger. 
 
 He smiled immediately. He asked some- 
 thing pleasantly in French. 
 
 As Babette did not seem to hear, Mrs. 
 Bomberling said, pointing at her breast: 
 
 "I do not understand." 
 
 The gentleman now asked in her lan- 
 guage, whether the blond ladies were sisters. 
 
 Anna felt that this was indeed an aristo- 
 crat. Blushing she explained that Babette 
 was her daughter. 
 
 The latter was reading Mommsen's "Ro- 
 man History." She did not look up. From 
 the very start she would prove to Paul that 
 the women of today keep their word. 
 
 When Anna had told where they would 
 stay, it appeared the count was destined for 
 the same pension. 
 
 Mrs. Bomberling was pleased and smiled. 
 Entree to the best society was so simple in- 
 distant lands. Here there was no class dif- 
 ferentiation. Here tickets counted. First, 
 second and third class. 
 
 And thus it came about that Mrs. Bom- 
 
 176 
 
■■1fVf^-f^{^^-r^-i^:'..h'-^^T^ .'■'•/'■'.'-.>'•*' ■ ."fi;-^^' ,. '^s;;;^**''- 
 
 Bahette Bomherling 
 
 berling rode into Rome with a real count 
 wtih a double name at her side. 
 
 Babetite was obKvious to everything but 
 the heavy, warm gold of the sunshine. Fra- 
 grance of blossoms, and splashing of foun- 
 tains, the ringing of chimes and the stirring 
 melody of the foreign language penetrated 
 her senses. Her bright eyes hung on the 
 azure strip of sky that bound the varicolored 
 roofs. 
 
 Mrs. Bomherling looked about curiously. 
 
 "See, how they have put up a ruin directly 
 by the station," she exclaimed, pointing her 
 umbrella at the mighty thermal walls, behind 
 which Emperor Diocletian had given him- 
 self up to the delights of bathing seventeen 
 hundred years ago. 
 
 Coimt Spina- Spontelli smiled and said 
 that these ruins were not of yesterday. 
 
 Mrs. BomberHng tossed up her head and 
 returned that she had never supposed that. 
 That she knew very well that Rome was the 
 eternal tourist city. 
 
 Mrs. Bomherling was on foreign soil. She 
 realized this more distinctly with every 
 hour. 
 
 177 
 
I 
 
 Babette Bomherling 
 
 Not only when she stared, with her order- 
 loving eyes, upon the disorder of the Forum 
 Romanum, or when she discovered in the 
 Coliseum that here it had once been con- 
 sidered pleasure to toss hving people to the 
 hungry Hons. Not as in the movies today, 
 but really truly. 
 
 More even than on these remarkable spots, 
 did she realize at meals that she was far dis- 
 tant from Bomherling. Although they 
 spoke in her own tongue here. 
 
 Since more than twenty years she had 
 been accustomed to chat at her table about 
 anything that crossed her mind, and Bom- 
 herling had been pleased with whatever his 
 Anna had told him. 
 
 Here she no longer dared to open her 
 mouth. Whatever she said seemed to be 
 wrong. 
 
 Babette's place was at the other end of the 
 table, next Hilda Wagner, through whom 
 they had gotten into this fine pension. 
 
 Mrs. Bomberling's vis-d-vis was Hilda's 
 aunt. The exclusive wife of the owner of a 
 manorial estate, who received all communi- 
 cations through a black ear trumpet. And 
 
 178 
 
Bahette BomherUng 
 
 all around her the people were talking only 
 of rank and title, with pursed lips that knew 
 everything, that would not even confuse for- 
 eign words in their dreams. 
 
 The landed proprietor's lady spoke of 
 the reigning princes as of blood relations. 
 
 "Let us hope William will get a good 
 rest on his Northcape trip," she would say. 
 With that she meant the German 
 emperor. 
 
 When salmon was served, she would sigh: 
 "That was Edward's favorite dish." 
 And meant the late King of England. 
 
 But when Mrs. Bomberling wanted to 
 show her social ease and called down the 
 speaking tube, that Augusta was going to 
 take a "cure," the haughty dame yanked 
 the tube away from her deaf ear and cried: 
 
 "Are you possibly alluding to her 
 Majesty, the German empress?" 
 
 Evidently, we have not all the same 
 privileges. 
 
 But what were all the reigning princelings 
 of Hilda's aunt, compared to the many Ro- 
 man emperors of whom all the other guests 
 
 179 
 
*^^-f^p??7 
 
 Babette BomberUng 
 
 were talking, intimately and fluently as of 
 brother Masons. 
 
 Mrs. Bomberling despaired of ever learn- 
 ing to distinguish these many names. Nor 
 would she even if she should never return to 
 her clean and orderly home. Why, she 
 couldn't even discriminate between the 
 plaster busts of these emperors, that were of 
 solid marble here. They all had the same 
 puffed-up hps and curly hair. 
 
 Only one man was familiar to her. That 
 was Nero. That had been the name of the 
 night-watchman's dog in her home town. 
 
 It had been a real pleasure to see a child- 
 hood bust of this Nero that very morning. 
 He was smiling, exactly as Herman had 
 done at five, when he had been given an 
 apple. 
 
 For this reason she felt entitled to put in 
 a little word of her own when they were dis- 
 cussing fearful atrocities of this Nero, dur- 
 ing dessert. 
 
 "Be that as it may," she interrupted, "he 
 must have been a charming child." 
 
 But even this raised the smile on the 
 strange faces, that every remark of hers 
 
 180 
 
■^7j^:^_^^-^iv--'^r^^ ;'V»v-*' "-Fi r-'^Ts'-^ . ■ .T'^*^ 
 
 Babette Bomherling 
 
 would bring now. Ever since she had pre- 
 sumed that the coliseum had been an antique 
 cinematograph. 
 
 To see everything was difficult, but to re- 
 member everything was a far greater strain. 
 
 The trip was a fearful exertion anyway. 
 From morning till night they ran about in 
 little groups, ever to gaze upon more broken 
 figures. Even the few young men that were 
 along had eyes only for this old rubbish and 
 not for Babette, who was getting prettier 
 every day. There seemed no sense to it. 
 
 Nor did the count show up except at 
 meals. He said that he knew Rome "like his 
 own pockets." He might as well have added 
 "and as the pockets of others." But Mrs. 
 Bomherling was not to find that out until 
 later. i 
 
 You can easily see that with all this con- 
 tinued scampering around under the hot sun, 
 Mrs. Bomherling was inclined to think with 
 increasing tenderness of Babette's rejected 
 suitor, young Kippenbach and his piano fac- 
 tory. Was not music the source of all joy? 
 
 They were standing before the statue of 
 Apollo Belvedere, which the lady of the man- 
 
 181 
 
'Wf!5W^" '•■-•-'■''■ ■■■■■ '■ ■<■■■"'■' -' . ■ ■^:.^' ■'^■'-- ^\. ■■-:,:'■'! /^^tyi^-r;: 
 
 Bahette Bomherling 
 
 orial estates had just designated as the proto- 
 type of masculine beauty. 
 
 The pleasure derived from a work of art 
 varies. 
 
 Mrs. Bomherling said: "I don't know, but 
 young Mr. Kippenbach pleases me more 
 than this Apollo. We might at least -send 
 him a picture post-card." 
 
 She poked her lorgnette to the right to 
 tap Babette, the latter was not stand- 
 ing next to her at all but at a distance, wholly 
 absorbed by the beauty before her. 
 
 However, there were marble statues that 
 made a deep impression on Mrs. Bomber- 
 hng too. 
 
 In a niche of St. Peter's, she suddenly 
 came upon a Maria with the dead Savior on 
 her knees. She stared long at Mother and 
 Son. She was led to think of the New 
 Year's Morn when Herman hadn't come 
 home. Hot tears ran down her cheeks. 
 
 And she did not even know that it was a 
 masterpiece of Michael Angelo's. 
 
 Sheer horror gripped her before the group 
 of Laocoon. The bearded man struggling 
 in vain to escape the awful snakes, bore a 
 
 182 
 
W '""^ 
 
 Bahette BomherUng 
 
 resemblance to Bomberling. She stared at 
 the group with fear and horror, while the 
 lady of the manorial estates reverently 
 whispered to her that this was something par- 
 ticularly beautiful. 
 
 When she was back in her room hot and 
 exhausted, she read up what her guide-book 
 had to say about this snake man. 
 
 One of the many gods that were supposed 
 to exist formerly, had sent the vile snake 
 upon the neck of the man and his young 
 sons, out of pure revenge. 
 
 She feared for Bomberling, who was so 
 deserted. 
 
 And when she lay down for her noon nap, 
 it was a source of deep comfort to her that 
 there was only one God today, and snakes 
 only in the most wild and remote regions. 
 
 Babs would put down her impressions of 
 the trip while her mother slumbered. And 
 that, in truth, for Paul. 
 
 A few postal cards had created a bridge. 
 Now they exchanged daily letters. 
 
 Paul knew the monuments of art as 
 though he were born in Rome. His letters 
 were minutely detailed guides. From them 
 
 183 
 
'»^#4j|!m'-"7' . . ' ■ " • • ■ -v'.::>.^- •• -. 1 .->;.,.'--. M ; J. • ■: - ,f^ ■',-f.-"^yf';^;r 
 
 Babette Bomberling 
 
 Babette felt the intense yearning her friend 
 had for this city of wonders. Thus it came 
 about that she had to think of Paul with 
 every beautiful thing she saw. 
 
 After visiting the Sistine chapel, she had 
 asked him whether he knew anything of 
 Michael Angelo's mother? It must be an 
 infinite joy to have presented such a man 
 to the world. But one had to be a woman 
 worthy of this honor. 
 
 Today Paul had answered, he believed 
 that very simple people could have remark- 
 able children, if only their innermost wishes 
 are not low, but are big and splendid. For 
 children are the desires of their parents 
 come to life. 
 
 As for example — he could well imagine 
 that his son might bring the great gift of 
 artistic achievement, for which he himself 
 had longed so desperately, as a finished tal- 
 ent into the world. 
 
 And then he begged to be pardoned for 
 having gone so into detail, on a subject that 
 could have only a purely theoretical inter- 
 est for Babette, who would never marry. 
 
 But Babs had reread this letter repeated- 
 
 184 
 
?^s"* v;.- - ■ ■. ' - -. ■■■ -. ■-' -y ■ ' \\ -: rf; z/'- '.^•'.■^^^^■''7^^^ yr- -^^ff^r^^^ ^'*^^' 
 
 Bahette Bomherling 
 
 ly. He had thoroughly upset her happy, 
 animated thoughts. 
 
 That Paul should consider love and mar- 
 riage and even children for himself, had 
 never crossed her thoughts. She had con- 
 sidered him much too fastidious for that. 
 
 Now she suspected that he was secretly 
 engaged. 
 
 She got out his previous letters and sat 
 down by the window that gave her a wide 
 view of the somber Campagna. 
 
 Actually. Every letter bore isome re- 
 mark about love or belonging together. 
 
 It was evident. He loved someone. 
 
 Babs realized that her duty as a friend 
 demanded that she call Paul's attention to 
 the dangers of marriage and to prevent his 
 becoming an ordinary family papa. He 
 was too good for that. 
 
 An honest rage at the modern young 
 girl's craze to get married rose in her. 
 
 In the meanwhile she postponed the an- 
 swer to this very important letter. Instead 
 she wrote into her diary in black letters : 
 
 "The fate of lonesomeness is destined for 
 me." 
 
 185 
 
^TwrenpsTfi^ri 
 
 Bahette Bomherling 
 
 As she was about to reread the beauti- 
 fully sounding sentence, a knock sounded 
 on the door. 
 
 The chambermaid announced that a 
 friend of the ladies Bomherling was calhng. 
 Bahette stepped into the reception-room of 
 the pension. 
 
 There stood Christian Sebold in the glory 
 of his most beautifully striped vest, and 
 crushed her Uttle hand in hearty greeting. 
 
 From Aunt Helen, Christian Sebold had 
 heard that Bahette refused an offer of mar- 
 riage. Hence her heart was no longer free. 
 
 This had surprised Aimt Helen immense- 
 ly, for Bahette only knew Christian Sebold 
 besides that young man. 
 
 Christian had brushed up his vigorous 
 moustache, and said to himself that between 
 Bologna and Naples, between Mortadella 
 and Salami, lies Rome. He had made a 
 little business trip. 
 
 Here he was. 
 
 Mrs. 'Bomherling was awakened. She 
 was much touched to see someone here in 
 this queer land, who knew Bomherling and 
 
 186 
 
f YT^' — j.-^ 
 
 Babette Bomberling 
 
 Aunt Helen and her whole precious "at 
 home." 
 
 She pressed Sebold's mighty hand heart- 
 ily. She would have Hked most to say 
 "yes" immediately; for what else could 
 have brought the fine young man so far? 
 
 Sebold intended to spend three days in 
 Rome. He knew exactly what he wished 
 to see. 
 
 First, the buffalo herds in the Campagna. 
 Second, the gruesome prisons of the perse- 
 cuted Christians, away under the earth. 
 Third, a real Itahan vaudeville. 
 
 This very afternoon he wanted to visit 
 several of the catacombs. If possible, 
 those where there were plenty of skeletons. 
 
 When he renewed the acquaintance of 
 Hilda Wagner at tea, and was introduced 
 to her aunt of the manorial estates, he in- 
 cluded these ladies in the invitation to take 
 a drive with him. 
 
 As they rode down the Via Appia, the 
 lady of the estates said sadly: 
 
 "How Letitia loved to drive along here 
 at this hour." 
 
 With that she meant Napoleon's mother, 
 
 187 
 
v.-,ar" -;t7,_-;-> —,-;];,■' -•■-" . ■ -■ -j - ..r.v ,— -^^ ;, . .■ ■ .r". ^.' I. ■" •" C" ."'^Tl* 
 
 Bahette BomberUng 
 
 who had died three-quarters of a century 
 ago. 
 
 Christian Sebold's glance was following 
 a fleeing buffalo. Aloud, he reckoned the 
 number of pounds of sausage such a beast 
 would give. 
 
 Mrs. Bomberling looked alarmed in the 
 direction of the haughty dame. She feared 
 this coarse topic would offend the refined 
 lady. 
 
 But the lady still held the hearer to her 
 ear, and smiled as though she had heard 
 something exceptionally pleasant. For this 
 Mr, Sebold came in the nick of time for 
 her. 
 
 This morning they had written her that 
 Hilda's brother Fred had received his dis- 
 charge and slipped off to America, without 
 honor or money, but with a cloak model. 
 
 With that, poor Hilda's chances of mak- 
 ing a suitable match were destroyed for the 
 time being. Now she would be lucky if she 
 were married off at all. 
 
 This sausage manufacturer was wealthy, 
 something that was perhaps more practical 
 today than ancestors. They themselves 
 
 188 
 
t<' -■.-£-» ,-»■•* "•• " W^^n *"" ■» ~V^f^« 
 
 Babette Bomberling 
 
 had prestige and connections, would simply 
 have him made a Privy Councillor with 
 some hig donation. 
 
 And again, smiling across at Mr. Sebold, 
 she said: 
 
 "August is extraordinarily interested in 
 cattle raising, too." 
 
 And meant the King of Saxony. 
 
 Christian Sebold was immensely flattered 
 to be brought into such close relation to 
 the highest personalities. 
 
 Hilda Wagner pleased him more with 
 every hour. 
 
 He hoped he pleased her, too. He could 
 afford to forego a dowry. If he might then 
 belong to thisi .fine family, for whom his 
 mother had had to do menial service ! 
 
 From whose kitchen, he had hungrily de- 
 voured the leftovers, when he was a child. 
 
 He prolonged his stay. They made ex- 
 cursions. It got warmer from day to day. 
 
 Mrs. Bomberling suffered a lot from the 
 heat. She longed to go home, but she did 
 not want to impede her own aspirations. 
 That Christian Sebold was paying much at- 
 tention to Hilda did not bother her in the 
 
 189 
 
'.r'i'^n'.'i 
 
 Babette Bomberling 
 
 least. No one was more desirable than 
 Babette. But she had her doubts whether 
 the sausage maker had not made his long 
 trip in vain, for nowadays the count with 
 the hard-to-remember double name was al- 
 ways along. And wherever he was, another 
 young man, who called himself Dr. Hilpert, 
 was sure to appear. 
 
 Countess Babette — Mrs. Dr. Babette — 
 
 Mrs. Bomberling worried through many 
 hours, with plans and euphonious words — 
 she reflected what would be better, what 
 would sound better. 
 
 Bomberling had written several times 
 whether they weren't coming home. He was 
 tired and feared he was going to be sick 
 without his Anna near him. Anna's heart 
 became heavy. But she couldn't leave. 
 They would have to remain at least another 
 week. 
 
 Mother love is stronger than any other 
 kind. 
 
 Babette had now rendered Paul the. great 
 service of friendship, and warned him 
 against marriage in a lengthy epistle. She 
 had called his attention to the fact that most 
 
 190 
 
Wf^. ' '"■ ■•"•■'.• , --.;•■ ■- ■\:\^^-^- ' •^y'-'::.':Z^::^}i^~v^r'^-''^^^'' '•■; .■!?-?*■'-■■ --T.. -'" 
 
 Bahette Bomherling 
 
 girls get fat and quarrelsome when mar- 
 ried. That a married man isn't a man at 
 aU. 
 
 Her mood became merry again after she 
 had dispatched this letter. Accomplished 
 duties bring joy. 
 
 Whereas Hilda Wagner went about 
 with tear-stained eyes. 
 
 She had been informed of her brother's 
 nasty folly. When she told Babette of this 
 misfortime with tears, the latter began to 
 weep, too. 
 
 They sat in the salon of the pension, in 
 front of the Chinese screen under several 
 potted palms, and Babette confessed! be- 
 tween sobs what a sad adventure she had 
 had with Lieutenant Freddy. How, due 
 to him, she had sworn never to trust any 
 
 man. 
 
 Poor Babs," said Hilda, tenderly. "But 
 you will be all the happier with some one 
 else. I, however" — and she sobbed again — 
 "I shall have to be the fifth wheel all my 
 life. With this scandal on the honor of the 
 family, I shall never get a husband." 
 "I'll bet you do get one," a strong voice 
 
 191 
 
"r*ir'^ 
 
 — * - ^ J^T""^ ■^•gRjspi^;? ■ 
 
 Bahette Bomherling 
 
 said from behind the Chinese screen, and, 
 upset by all the maidenly despair, Christian 
 Sebold came stamping out from his hiding- 
 place. Without any fuss, he gathered slim 
 Hilda against his wide, gay vest. 
 
 Never before had the lady of the mano- 
 rial estates, beamed with such graciousness 
 and equality into Mrs. Bomberling's face as 
 at the moment when she acknowledged 
 Anna's congratulations. 
 
 But that was cold comfort for Mrs. Bom- 
 herling. Her Babette had been shghted. 
 That hurt bitterly. 
 
 In Cicero's Tusculum, she explained once 
 more in detail the vast size of her husband's 
 factory to the count and to the young doc- 
 tor. She declared that, at home Babette was 
 surrounded by suitors as here the flowers by 
 gnates and flies. 
 
 And on her return from this expedition 
 she sent a card, which pictured the whole of 
 Rome, with a friendly greeting to young Mr. 
 Kippenbach. 
 
 Tn the evening she again gathered all her 
 energy to creep at least once around the 
 room. Of late she had been neglecting her 
 
 192 
 
Babette BomberUng 
 
 "cure" a bit. With horror this was recalled to 
 her today, when the Count remarked that 
 in his family there was no corpulence. That 
 fine races do not put on .flesh. 
 
 Breathless, the faithful mother lay in bed 
 at last. 
 
 Then she took her guide-book and tried to 
 memorize the seven hills of Rome: "Aven- 
 tine, Esquiline, CapitoUne— 
 
 »» 
 
 It was hard I But even the doctor was a 
 well-educated man. He would surely ap- 
 preciate the value of such knowledge. 
 
 Babette wanted to kiss her mother good- 
 night, but sneaked away when she heard 
 the murmuring. She did not wish to dis- 
 turb her mother's prayers. 
 
 "Aventine, Esquihne, Capitoline, Palan- 
 tine." At last she put out the Ught. She 
 thought it would have been much simpler 
 if they had built this Rome on a flat field 
 as so many other pleasant cities. The name 
 of the seventh hill had again escaped her. 
 
 Dreams carry us to strange lands. Yet 
 Mrs. Bomberling had not wholly lost re- 
 ality, when she sprang up from her slum- 
 
 193 
 
•;;. •■ <.»i^;',t«»'ir'»:, 
 
 Babette BomherUng 
 
 bers. Something had moved in the room. 
 
 By the light of the night lamp she saw 
 Comit Spina- Spontelli step out of the ward- 
 robe door. 
 
 "Is it you Count?" asked Mrs. Bomher- 
 Ung pleasantly. And wondered that the 
 Coimt should come to ask for Babette's 
 hand at such an unearthly hour. 
 
 Then to her horror she saw the Count 
 draw a revolver. 
 
 At the same moment, however, another 
 man stepped out of the door behind that 
 wardrobe. Babette's second suitor, charm- 
 ing Dr. Hilpert. Before Mrs. Bomberling 
 could make out which of the two she would 
 prefer as a son-in-law, Dr. Hilpert had 
 snatched the revolver from Count Spina- 
 Spontelli and snapped handcuffs on his 
 wrists. 
 
 "Pardon the slight disturbance — ^you will 
 be informed of everything in the morning," 
 said he with a bow towards Mrs. Bomber- 
 ling's bed. 
 
 Then both men had disappeared. 
 
 But Mrs. Bomberling had no time to 
 wait. She shrieked and rang, till the entire 
 
 194 
 
■ .^^/^■'■'f r;^'- 
 
 Babette BomherUng 
 
 pension was aroused. That very night they 
 all heard the entire story. The count was 
 a long sought swindler with the easily pro- 
 nounceable name of Weber. In Dr. Hil- 
 pert, however, they had had a clever secret- 
 service man as an acquaintance. Verily, on 
 a jouraey there are adventures. 
 
 They all surrounded Mrs. Bomberling 
 and congratulated her on her fortunate res- 
 cue. With tears in her eyes she received 
 these many kindnesses. 
 
 Other causes; other good wishes. 
 
 No one went to bed again that night. 
 Tea was prepared and gradually the gath- 
 ering developed into a jolly little party. 
 Conversation was lively from the very start. 
 Each one had a special anecdote about swin- 
 dlers and hotel thieves to narrate. 
 
 Hilda Wagner slipped her shm hands 
 into Sebold's big fist. She knew she had 
 a protector on this uncertain earth now. 
 
 Only Mrs. Bomberling and Babette had 
 no share in this general fun. They were 
 packing. Mrs. Bomberling wanted to leave 
 with the first morning train. 
 
 She had no further use for this place. 
 
 195 
 
'sm^: 
 
 Babette Bomherling 
 
 The telegram for dear Bomberling was 
 written already. 
 
 Morning came. It got light. But Mrs. 
 Bomberling did not calm down until she 
 sat in the train. When the wheels started, 
 she was overcome with emotion. Her face 
 buried in her handkerchief, she sobbed: 
 
 "Even Napoleon will have changed in 
 this long, long time." 
 
 Babette's glances sought the curve of a 
 great dome, that stayed further and fur- 
 ther behind in the bright sunshine. 
 
 Bomberling sat in his office and looked 
 through his morning mail. 
 
 Several telegrams that he had hastily 
 opened confirmed his fears. 
 
 The work of his life could be held no 
 longer. 
 
 The peace of Europe was fragile. There 
 were no longer any bonds or cash to bridge 
 this difficult period. 
 
 Slowly he opened Mrs. Bomberling's last 
 letter from Rome. In all these troublesome 
 weeks Anna had written only of things 
 which had never concerned his life — on 
 which he had never spent a thought. These 
 
 196 
 
;f??t}f,?>^ 
 
 Babette Bomberling 
 
 letters dwelt on bathing establishments of 
 long-gone Roman Emperors, of water- 
 works that had crmnbled and were out of 
 order since the birth of Christ, or of dam- 
 aged marble statues. 
 
 And unfortunately also of attractive 
 young men. 
 
 Today's writing did not vary from the 
 former ones. First, Anna told of the mar- 
 velous bathing arrangements of an Em- 
 peror Hadrian, then, besides the ItaUan 
 count, who was always mentioned, a charm- 
 ing young doctor was lauded. 
 
 Anna did not as yet seem to have recov- 
 ered. 
 
 Outside the rain was splashing down. 
 The sky was as gray as in Autunm. Spring 
 should have come long ago. But this year 
 nothing was as it should be. 
 
 A hopeless dejection settled on Bomber- 
 ling. He could see no comforting ray. 
 Only the tenaciously unpardoning demands 
 of an endless drudgery hung over him. 
 
 Anna and Babette would return, still 
 finer ladies than when they had left. Some 
 
 197 
 
' ,:- -,,^-ir/^ . ;• \'- •,7''--r»-^sv'.:T.^»-i.-jr;^^yTWSJf^^ 
 
 ■TW!r*^!?!«F 
 
 Bahette BomberUng 
 
 slicked-up foreigner would come and fetch 
 Babette and demand funds. Money that no 
 longer existed. And Herman? At the end 
 of the month he would lightly confess an- 
 other new Uttle burden of debts that his 
 father was to pay. To tell the boy: "It's 
 over." To hear Anna's awful howl when 
 she discovered that they were again in the 
 position in which they had been when they 
 were married. He was no longer yoimg 
 enough for that. 
 
 Bomberling opened his desk slowly. He 
 got out the policy that insured his life at a 
 high figure. In these times there was many 
 a man who understood how to help his dear 
 pnes at the right moment to their only sal- 
 vation. 
 
 He commenced to read the conditions 
 through. But the letters twitched and 
 twirled and became confused. 
 
 As with a bolt, a fact suddenly struck him 
 that he had never noticed before. The great 
 big building, in the midst of which he sat, 
 was filled with waiting cofiins. 
 
 His throat was being strangled by an in- 
 sane craving for air, he longed for light, for 
 
 198 
 
5?™*irT' ^^•»3- T; ^ ' ^ ■-■••'■ ^T^-;. ■"•■;- -.-rp--'~-.-?^-,>-: 'w ^*.»;y;s ^?:>^jg^ii;^3f^|yi73f'JV'^>^;?--"?^^ 
 
 Bahette BomherUng 
 
 Arma's blond hair, the laughter of his chil- 
 dren and all the past comfort and happi* 
 ness. Boiling, his blood rushed into his ach- 
 ing head, where numbers topped numbers, 
 towering into mathematical problems that 
 could never be solved. 
 
 When the bookkeeper brought the wire 
 that announced Anna's and Babs's coming, 
 he found Bomberling on the floor, breath- 
 ing heavily. 
 
 By the sparseness of the fields they could 
 see that they were nearing the metropolis. 
 Mrs. Bomberling scrambled among her 
 bags. She wanted to make sure that none 
 of the pretty things she was bringing her 
 dear August were broken. 
 
 First she unwrapped a little marble fig- 
 ure. It was the Esquiline Venus, parlor 
 size. Bomberling was to put her on his desk. 
 Even if he were not interested in art, he 
 would have to acknowledge how praise- 
 worthy it is that someone could imitate the 
 human form so accurately. 
 
 A second packet contained a small cast 
 of the Roman she-wolf with the sucking 
 
 199 
 
Babette Bomherling 
 
 boys, Romulus and Remus. When she 
 bought it, she had really been under the 
 impression that the children were a boy and 
 a girl. Because she had thought that the 
 wolf represented the nurse of Romeo and 
 Juliet. These old tales were always being 
 confused. But Bomherling would be pleased 
 with it this way, too. 
 
 She could scarce wait till she might un- 
 burden all her new knowledge to him, and 
 at last be able to chatter freely again. 
 
 The train thundered into the terminal. 
 Her eyes brimming with tears, Mrs. Bom- 
 berhng waved her handkerchief to the black 
 crowd that was waiting there. 
 
 At last they descried Paul in the swarm- 
 ing mass. 
 
 There were sharp lines about his mouth, 
 and he attempted an ineffective smile. He 
 said Bomberhng was in bed, suffering from 
 a sUght cold. Herman had stayed with him. 
 
 Pleasantly excited, Anna talked animat- 
 edly of camomile tea and locorice syrup. 
 She would have her Bomherling cured in a 
 jiffy. Now she was back at last. 
 
 But when Herman burst on her at the 
 
 200 
 
F?y^5f^ 
 
 Babette Bomberling 
 
 apartment door, crpng like a baby, exactly 
 as he had done when in his boyhood his pet 
 squirrel had died — ^then she knew that some- 
 thing terrible must have happened. 
 
 She ran into the bedroom. 
 
 Bomberling rested with closed eyes under 
 the protection of the chubby gilded angel 
 that he had carved himself. Numbers and 
 figures passed over his damp, bluish Ups. 
 He was reckoning and calculating. 
 
 Mrs. Bomberling's hfe had changed be- 
 tween two breaths. 
 
 She had forgotten that the world was 
 full of distinguished and wealthy young 
 men, to be converted into sons-in-law. 
 
 She did not feel Aunt Helen's bony arm 
 around her shoulders and comforting ex- 
 planations that everyone must work him- 
 self to death in- order to live. 
 
 She was not flattered when her friend, 
 the widow, approached her, weepingly of- 
 fered to call her by her first name and re- 
 called that her late lamented had to lie on 
 his bed of pain fifteen years only to be 
 forced to arise when the Almighty called. 
 
 201 
 
^V^V^ • ■ '-' "^ ■ ■ ■ . ■ I ■■•■>..■.■,;- * '".;V ■;■ TT "y^ii 
 
 Babette Bomherling 
 
 It was all as inconsequent to her as the 
 seven dijfificult names of the seven Roman 
 hills which had escaped her again. 
 
 She wanted nothing further than that 
 Bomherling should open his eyes and say 
 "Mousy." 
 
 She waited for this and she would not 
 budge from his bed by day or night. 
 
 She did not notice the lines being drawn 
 in Babette's soft face. 
 
 She did not see Herman sitting among 
 his books like a great, helpless ly)y, his eyes 
 all swollen. She wouldn't endure anyone 
 in the room. 
 
 The grown-up children seemed strangers 
 to her. For in the void of the long hours, 
 while she caressingly brushed Bomber- 
 ling's tangled hair that had gotten thin and 
 gray, in order to renew the ice bags, she 
 saw her August, as he had come to fetch 
 her for marriage, young, with blond hair 
 and laughing eyes. What did the children 
 know of that? 
 
 While she sat silently beside the heavily 
 breathing man, her thoughts skipped into 
 the past. 
 
 202 
 
|gj^^.-_ic.;;-.- ■ ■;:>;■■,'■ 'i'i 'T-'C ■.' ' ;-■ - V ••<':-««^- . ::r^.^'■-^\,■:■:lfj,'■t••^,v:r^/^r^■>."^^f^J^t::^i'^7K■•,''TJl•'^.-:■ 'inyjis' 
 
 Babette Bomherling 
 
 The crack of a whip outside reminded 
 her so vividly of the bright summer morn- 
 ing when they sat in the carriage, the col- 
 ored boxes of linen on behind and the un- 
 known monster city ahead. 
 
 The cry of a child recalled the nights 
 when Bomherling, whistling softly, would 
 carry shrieking Herman, so that his Anna 
 might slumber. The great day came back 
 to her, too, when August had laughingly 
 pinched her cheek and said: 
 
 "Now we belong in the front row. The 
 finest people will have to bow to our chil- 
 dren some day." 
 
 First she had thought he was joking. Buf 
 then she had wept for joy. 
 
 "Silly, vain goosy," he had scolded her. 
 "But laughed broadly therewith, and, heavy 
 as she was, he had picked her up and swung 
 her around the room. 
 
 With a smile about her mouth, she got 
 up to renew the bandage on the old man's 
 burning forehead. 
 
 Then she dreamt on in the quiet, dark- 
 ened room. 
 
 She remembered distinctly when they 
 
 203 
 
, : / , «• .. ■—. '■^j' ...s-sF|jr7f 
 
 Babette BomberUng 
 
 moved into a more fashionable street, how 
 she distributed a lot of her old furniture 
 among her delighted neighbors. But after 
 that period her memory came upon a gap. 
 It was as though August had not been with 
 them from there on. Only the children were 
 there. The children. 
 
 For this reason her memory always 
 turned back here. 
 
 They were paving the street below. The 
 heavy blows took her back to the smithy. 
 
 Thus the hours passed by. 
 
 Until one bright morning, when Bomber- 
 ling opened his eyes and with a heavy 
 tongue, said : 
 
 "Anna?" 
 
 Then he fell asleep again. But his breath 
 came more regularly. 
 
 Shortly after that Paul rapped gently on 
 the door of the quiet room. He begged 
 Mrs. Bomberling to come for a brief con- 
 ference. 
 
 Several things required her signature. 
 She took her place at the large dining- 
 table, between Babette and Herman. Paul 
 
 204 
 
P?-! 
 
 Babette BomherUng 
 
 paced the room excitedly. The rest of the 
 apartment seemed to have died out. 
 
 Mrs. Bomberling was smiling. 
 
 "He has opened his eyes and recognized 
 me," she said. Her smile deepened. She 
 seemed to lose herself in her smile — ^the chil- 
 dren wept. 
 
 "The situation is actually this," began 
 Paul — "the factory has been shut down. 
 There is the possibiUty that — that — a great 
 deal of money will be lost — ^that your cir- 
 cumstances will — suffer a severe change, 
 dearest Auntie." 
 
 "How long I hadn't seen his eyes ! They 
 were really not changed a bit." Mrs. Bom- 
 berling was murmuring with the same smile 
 playing about her mouth. 
 
 Then she looked up. She felt some an- 
 swer was expected of her. She said: 
 
 "Do whatever you think best. You are 
 clever and well-trained. When papa is well 
 again he will put everything to rights." 
 
 She got up. 
 
 "Perhaps he'll awaken again soon. Then 
 I must be there." 
 
 She went out on tiptoe. Smiling. 
 
 205 
 
*->,;'J5=fr' 
 
 Bahette Bomberling 
 
 "She doesn't even look at us any more," 
 sobbed Babs, and threw herself over the 
 table. 
 
 "Possibly we don't understand what it 
 means to be man and wife," said Paul slow- 
 ly, looking earnestly at Babette. 
 
 Then Herman sneaked out and left the 
 two alone. 
 
 Life hurries on and does not wait. We 
 have to put ourselves to an effort if we want 
 to keep up a little longer. 
 
 Bomberling had recognized Anna sitting 
 by his bed. He gathered all his strength to 
 return to consciousness. 
 
 He groped a little nearer health daily. 
 
 He sat up in bed; in a chair at his side sat 
 Anna. On the night table stood the Ksqui- 
 line Venus, next the Roman she-wolf. 
 
 One morning a letter lay among these. 
 It contained a few lines from Herman. He 
 told his father not to worry about him, he 
 would gladly give up studying. Father 
 should do naught but get well. 
 
 All this day he did not show up at the 
 bedside. 
 
 206 
 
 i^^ rvi:h i,i 
 
'g!pijs?^?irs™™ i-'c^-Tir^- V ! ~ ■ '•yK^vw^'yv^'j'i-A-'^^^^ ■■. ■ - ' kw;:-.:- ■XKr*7^=^. ^t'''^ 
 
 Babette Bomherling 
 
 Bomberling should have liked to tell him 
 that he was happy that his big, learned boy 
 still cared for him. 
 
 But now he attempted to catch up with 
 Ufe again with the first faltering steps. His 
 old energy helped him in this. Soon he 
 could shuffle to the balcony. He would sit 
 between the pelargonia and the canary 
 cage, staring into the blue sky or watching 
 Anna, who was sewing. 
 
 It was May. Napoleon was warbling his 
 songs as though he were swinging on a blos- 
 soming lilac twig. 
 
 Mrs. Bomberling had also awakened to 
 life again. 
 
 "I am surprised young Mr. Kippenbach 
 does not inquire about you," said she. 
 
 "Pray don't begin to think," answered 
 Bomberling, closing his eyes. He seemed 
 to be slumbering. In reality, however, he 
 was calculating, fcecretly. '^Since days he 
 had been at this labor again. He knew Paul 
 was endeavoring to save the firm. He was 
 trying to form a stock company. An un- 
 known force seemed to have called forth 
 gigantic strength in the boy, 
 
 207 
 
.-r^T^ijy-,*, '■•• -. ■. - . • ■ •■ , •- .-.■■■..' .'"■•, -^'-. ■■'■■■■-'''Y.'r^l^K' 
 
 Babette Bomherling 
 
 One day, when Mrs. Bomberling had 
 gone out to secure the first strawberries for 
 her August, she found he had escaped on 
 her return. Before she had realized what 
 had happened, the telephone rang and Bom- 
 berling's quiet voice said: 
 
 "Don't worry. I'm at the ofl&ce, work- 
 ing with Paul." 
 
 "My, but you're a man!" Anna gasped 
 in reply. But Bomberling had already hung 
 up. 
 
 Anna kept roaming excitedly about their 
 big apartment. At half -hour intervals she 
 would call up the mill and ask how Bom- 
 berling was feeling. 
 
 Babette, who had been helping Paul all 
 these weeks, answered her mother patiently 
 and tenderly each time, that father was very 
 well. 
 
 Her voice sounded so fresh and young. 
 
 Mrs. Bomberling sighed. She went on 
 the balcony and looked across to the Kip- 
 penbach's windows. Perhaps she might 
 bring back the old relations a bit, with a 
 friendly nod. 
 
 208 
 
r^ /:■'..- -} *. ' • ■ ■" " "" •,■_', ■.--;•■ v/r'r!*^--- *!■..■* -.-''*.■ -r.:; *"iP^t:., - <r-' 
 
 Babette Bomberling 
 
 But all the shutters were closed as though 
 the very windows were offended. 
 
 Mrs. Bomherling sighed again, and 
 when she went to the telephone this time, 
 she impulsively called up the number of the 
 Baroness Pryczsbitsky-Ratzoska. 
 
 The baroness answere immediately — 
 that she had heard of all their misfortunes 
 with deep sympathy. 
 
 Mrs. Bomberling replied that in Rome an 
 Italian count had almost committed suicide 
 because Babette wouldn't have him. 
 
 The baroness renewed her expressions of 
 sympathy. Real Italian counts were a 
 much-sought article. Otherwise this was a 
 dull period. The season for traveling had 
 commenced, then everybody tried his own 
 fortune at hunting. She only had little Prill 
 still on hand. He had not yet succeeded in 
 finding a mortgage for his five-story house. 
 
 Mrs. Bomberling returned that she had 
 meant nothing of that sort, but had only 
 wanted to say how-do-you-do to her charm- 
 ing friend. 
 
 The Baroness Pryczsbitzky - Ratzoska 
 thanked her for her graciousness, and added 
 
 209 
 
'^w-y^ -yj^fJiV^r^fr ^ -^ • ^s 'ts;^ T^ !▼ -.^<r»?^Ti'T-r''iP5^»^;'f^ ^ '^ •nryrs,-* 
 
 ' ii^>Wi;',^;-M(l>f,|"».«'»!"ll,PMHPJ^!t,ll f-W 
 
 Babette Bomberling 
 
 that she regretted that she was now obliged 
 to charge for even the shortest telephone 
 consultations. She would permit herself to 
 send a little bill. 
 
 Mrs. Bomberling hung up the receiver 
 with alacrity. There, she had been wasteful 
 again, although she was to save at every 
 nook and corner. 
 
 She was rather depressed when the others 
 returned home. 
 
 She looked sadly beyond Bomberling and 
 Herman, and Paul and Babette. There 
 was no ray of hope for a son^-in-law. 
 
 And she wasn't cheered when Aunt Helen 
 came to inquire after Bomberling and told 
 that Hilda Wagner and Sebold would 
 marry soon. 
 
 She said: 
 
 "If someone might sometimes see how it 
 will some time be, someone would sometimes 
 be less finicky." 
 
 Mrs. Bomberling replied that Babette 
 was incomparably prettier than Hilda and 
 thoroughly serious-minded as well. 
 
 Aunt Helen said kindly, that Mrs. Bom- 
 berling*s words must not be taken amiss. 
 
 210 
 
.Wi^^f^^.y^P^-'^'TV ■■?!■- "^-^'^^^^^ 
 
 Bahette Bomberling 
 
 That even the owl finds her young 
 beautiful. 
 
 And then she commenced singing Paul's 
 praises. 
 
 They had offered him the directorship of 
 the newly-to-be-formed company. 
 
 "Yes," she declared, "if that were my 
 son, I should be proud of him." 
 
 Years bring forgetting. Aunt Helen no 
 longer knew that she had renounced offend- 
 edly, the day Paul was offered each mem- 
 ber of the family as an heritage. She had 
 declared that she would not let anyone pre- 
 sent her with a child as a testamentary obli- 
 gation. Upon whomever God wished to 
 bestow offspring. He would present them 
 in the natural way. 
 
 She was right. Nature will always be the 
 greatest blesser. 
 
 But today she was remembering none of 
 these things, and no one was there to re- 
 fresh her recollections, for Mrs. Bomber- 
 ling had fallen asleep. The grievous words 
 had made her unconscious. Her head was 
 bent sidewise. The carefully built-up 
 coiffure had slipped. The light from the 
 
 211 
 
^^f'■.V^ ■;«r' 
 
 Babette Bomherling 
 
 chandelier plainly showed where the hlond 
 hair had given place to silver streaks. 
 
 A few days later, just when Mrs. Bom- 
 herling was elated at having saved ten pfen- 
 nings aA the butcher's, a little letter was 
 handed to her. She presumed that it was 
 a message from young Eappenbach. Or 
 a secret sign from someone made giddy by 
 Babette's beauty. 
 
 It was the baronesse's bill. 
 One consultation on the telephone — ten 
 marks. t 
 
 Furthermore there was a letter in a sealed 
 envelope. On this was written: Important 
 hints for the summer season. 
 
 This would cost ten marks also, but 
 might be returned to the messenger un- 
 opened. 
 
 Mrs. Bomherling hesitated. This sealed 
 letter fascinated her. Ten marks were a 
 lot of money — ^raised the bill to twenty. But 
 should one begin skimping on Babette? On 
 that sweet child? Who was helping from 
 mom till night — so faithfully and dili- 
 gently? 
 
 212 
 
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 Babette Bomberling 
 
 She hastily paid the messenger twenty 
 marks and kept the important hints. 
 
 Before she had heen able to open these 
 however, the door was mdatched and Bom- 
 berling returned, accompanied by Paul and 
 Babette. At an altogether unusual hour — 
 for it was only mid-afternoon. 
 
 Alarmed, Mrs. Bomberling slipped the 
 envelope into her bag. 
 
 But the arrivals looked as though they 
 were concealing some secret between them. 
 
 "Allow me to introduce Director Paul 
 Bomberling to you, my dear," said August, 
 ceremoniously, and tapped his way to the 
 armchair. 
 
 Anna had to sit down, ^oo, when 6he 
 heard that the factories would be continued 
 with Paul at the head. They would produce 
 artistic cabinet work and the stock of cof- 
 fins would gradually be given up. 
 
 "I'll skip out," announced Babette when 
 a momentous silence ensued, and disap- 
 peared swiftly. 
 
 She had flowers on her arm for the first 
 time since her return. Lilies-of-the-valley 
 and anemones. 
 
 213 
 
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 Babette Bomherling 
 
 it 
 
 You see," said Bomberling to Anna, 
 now you will have at least a nephew with 
 a title." 
 
 Mrs. Bomberling looked up at Paul. He 
 wore a cutaway and appeared formal and 
 changed. 
 
 "Who would have thought it," she mur- 
 mured. 
 
 Bomberling continued: 
 
 "That ought to comfort you, now that 
 I am nothing more than an old household 
 piece. And Herman will be able to con- 
 tinue his studies. Only Babette will be in 
 the way and make housekeeping unneces- 
 sarily expensive." 
 
 He bUnked from Anna to Paul. 
 
 Anna did not see this. Her eyes brimmed 
 with tears. 
 
 She found it disgraceful of August to 
 speak in this way of Babs before this new, 
 smart Paul. 
 
 With a flushed face she declared she 
 would sell the English salon pieces, the Rus- 
 sian cups and various other things. That 
 sum would make a dowry. Babette should 
 have a suitor on every finger if she liked. 
 
 214 
 
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 Babette Bomherling 
 
 The recollection of the "important hints 
 for the summer season" came as a boon to 
 her, too. 
 
 But suddenly Babette was back, kissing 
 her raptiu-ously. Paul looked yet more for- 
 mal and Bomherling seemed quite rotund 
 with happiness. And at last she realized 
 that Babette had already accepted a suitor, 
 and that it was Paul whom everyone would 
 know now as "director." 
 
 She sat quite inert, stooping slightly, her 
 thoughts running in confusion. 
 
 She might have saved those twenty 
 marks, she thought. Even the trip to Rome ! 
 What would Aunt Helen say? And her 
 friend, the widow? And now in the month 
 of May Babette was affianced! And no 
 need for embarrassment about the coffins. 
 No stranger would take her away from 
 them. Why, already when a mere child, 
 Paul had watched over her faithfully. And 
 she herself might eat anything again? 
 Might give up the creeping without any 
 pangs of conscience? 
 
 Again and again everything tumbled to- 
 
 215 
 
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 '-^-'Tw:^^^^ 
 
 Babette Bomberling 
 
 gather in her mind. Joy streamed through 
 her like hot coflFee. 
 
 When Bomberling asked her if she were 
 not delighted, she nodded heavily. 
 
 She did not brace up until Aunt Helen 
 plunged into the room to find out whether 
 what she had heard from Uncle Albert were 
 true. 
 
 Then she wiped her forehead and scolded 
 about the intolerably hot May weather. 
 
 Mrs. Bomberling said with dignity: 
 
 "You see now Paul is also my son. And 
 Babette will be a director's wife." 
 
 Aimt Helen continued dabbing her brow 
 with her handkerchief, and congratulating. 
 And then she said that she had just read 
 in the paper that modern mothers no longer 
 cared whether their daughters got husbands 
 or not. That at last one was past that — 
 
 But that must have been an error, be- 
 cause there are no modem mothers. There 
 are only mothers. 
 
 THE END 
 
 216 
 
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