Yesterday Was Long Ago: Part One

by Hedy Thalberg James

  “Really? Where have you been the past ten minutes? In Hungary with a gypsy fortune teller?” he inquired in jest.

  “Not quite that far, Father. I took a shortcut through the kitchen, and voilá! There was Bertha's niece.”

  “The girl who does the embroideries?”

  “The very one, Father. The only one,” he replied amicably.

  “Heaven help us,” Albert muttered in a despairing voice, knowing Otto's strong will and his own harrowing experience with ‘love at first sight’. “First of all, we shall talk about it, son,” he suggested.

  “First of all, you go and see for yourself!” Otto insisted confidently. “At least then we will both know what we are talking about.”

  There were a few moments of an awkward silence between them before Albert rose from his chair, looked somberly at him and said, “I always thought I knew you.” Feeling rather uneasy, he descended the stairs towards the kitchen. “Not at Otto's request. My curiosity simply got the best of me!” he would recall many times afterwards. “And there was, Stephany; the most kind and adorable young lady with the prettiest blue eyes, her dark brown hair so neatly arranged in a crown, smiling at me so openly—so fresh and sincere—that all I could think of and say at the moment was, ‘Will you join us for dinner tomorrow?’ When one of the cooks dropped a bowl of egg whites, another rushed towards Aunt Bertha, who had fainted, while Stephany responded calmly and composedly, “Thank you for asking, Sir. I feel most honored to oblige!”

  “Son,” he said, extremely gratified, upon returning from his dubious mission, rolling the ever-present cigar between his fingers. “That young lady has all the qualities for THE Mrs. Reinhardt!”

  “Thank you, Papa! Now what?” He sighed, pleased and at the same time confused.

  “I've invited her for dinner tomorrow.”

  “You did?” Otto stammered.

  “Certainly did!” His father smiled, taking a puff from his cigar, and ringing for his valet.

  “And?” urged Otto, still stunned.

  “She most graciously accepted. Let me tell you her own words: 'Thank you for asking, Sir, I feel most honored to oblige!' This is grace and dignity for someone so young and probably not introduced into our circles before.” He grinned, feeling very satisfied.

  “Oh God. Now it's me who has to sit down. I certainly did not expect this to develop so fast!”

  “Well, sit down in any case. We are about to open a bottle of the very best brandy, which I've saved for thirty years to toast to a very special occasion!” Lifting his brandy snifter, and glowing with joy, he toasted, “To the future Mrs. Reinhardt!”

  “To very happy times together!” Otto added triumphantly, thinking about his newfound treasure.

  “We better look up her name and do our homework for tomorrow. Beautiful young lady from Prague just won't do,” Otto jested with a smile. “But as long as she'll say 'I do', everything else will be just fine!”

  Both lifted their glasses again.

  ∼

  Stephany was encircled by the kitchen maids and a barely recovered Aunt Bertha, all bewildered and puzzled by this unforeseen development. Since none of them had ever been invited to dine with the Reinhardts, they judged that it could only be one of two possibilities. “You either are going to be introduced to the Reinhardt's head housemaid Mrs. Fischer, who just turned fifty-nine, in order to assist her or they'll want you to work with your aunt in the pastry kitchen.” One of the maids added, “They both love pastry!”

  “That's it,” the head cook agreed. “You'll be working with us.”

  “As long as they don't send me to any of their other places,” lamented Stephany. “I’ll make it a point to tell Mr. Reinhardt how much I like it here.”

  “Take you away from your aunt? Never! Their motto has always been to be kind to their servants, and believe me, they do live by it!”

  “Every single day,” the oldest and most fragile of the maids admitted. “And I've been working here for over fifty years.”

  “Did you hear me drop the bowl?” her grandson asked, just to be part of their lengthy debate. “It was an accident,” Stephany replied. “Nevertheless, you'd at least be slapped, if not fired anywhere else!”

  “The best of all things is,” The entering Mrs. Fischer, who had overheard a fraction of their conversation, interrupted. “that there is no other lady, but me to answer to. And we all can thank God for that!” Without a word of reaction, neither contradictory or approvingly, they bowed their heads, held their breath and returned to their work.

  Mrs. Fischer, who demanded absolute perfection, loyalty, and obedience to the point of submission from all servants, regardless of their positions or ages, took Stephany aside and assured her in a friendly tone of voice that in time she would get her well-deserved place in the present residence. “Of course, it will largely depend on your willingness to dedicate yourself to this household. There are not too many servants privileged enough to work in a palace like this. We all hold our heads up high and feel good about ourselves. So don't forget, dear child, the 'R’s' you see on all the entrances stand also for Royalty, as well as for Reinhardt,” she teased with a wink of hauteur and her ever-present self-esteem. “Always remember that!”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Fischer. You are most kind!” Stephany answered gratefully, still pondering tomorrow's dinner invitation.

  Aunt Bertha offered her niece a hand-crocheted lace collar to add a little elegance to her drab gray uniform, so she would look more presentable and not appear too much out of place at dinner with the two gentlemen. Even though none of the servants had ever been asked to dine with the Reinhardts, Bertha too was of the belief that Stephany would most likely be introduced to the Reinhardt household and asked to get to know it under the instruction of Mrs. Fischer. She then could take over from her when the older woman retired, and Stephany would have the well-paid and prestigious appointment as head housemaid. So far, Bertha thought, there was no one qualified enough for this responsible position, which demanded patience as well as sacrifice. Stephany's greatest virtues. The estate in Lindenfels would be a very remote possibility, since both gentlemen were accustomed to their routine and replacing or changing servants was a chore they did not like and therefore, undertook very rarely.

  The household had come to an almost complete standstill when word had gotten around via a completely stunned Mrs. Fischer, that no butler was required for their meal, not even for the coffee after dinner.

  Bertha wished her niece good luck and advised her again, “Never speak unless spoken to. Never leave the table or room without permission! Also, never ask a question, unless connected with your work. But then, you know all that so much better than any of us. I am just so nervous, and you appear to be so calm! Now, go with God!”

  ∼

  At exactly twelve noon, Miss Stephany Cerny was announced. She had been studying the miniature paintings in the rosewood-paneled vestibule, whiling away the time, waiting for the Reinhardts. “Well, well, Miss Stephany. I see you like our little pictures,” Albert commented.

  “I admire art, Sir!” she said elatedly and sighing. “I only wish I had more knowledge about it.”

  “Oh, one can acquire it, if one so desires.” Otto smiled. Both men were visibly pleased. Otto pulled out her chair and offered her a seat, while Albert took her plate and served her a precut portion of the roast pork with small potatoes and vegetables. After the wine had been poured and a toast had been offered to “good health”, Otto lost no time in tackling his most urgent wish to know more about her: “We understand you were a seamstress in Prague. Just where about? We know Prague quite well!” “At Castle Hagenau, right in the heart of the city,” she answered proudly. “That's where I frequently visited the museums, Sir!”

  “That was quite convenient for you!”

  Albert intervened. “Why is it that your mother left Vienna for Prague, when so many Bohemians come to Vienna?”

  “Mama, like Aunt Bertha, was in the servi
ce of Baron von Leibnitz right here in Vienna many years ago. She taught his children French and also otherwise supervised them, teaching them proper table manners and such.”

  “That is very interesting!”

  “Mama left with the Baroness for Prague when she inherited Castle Hagenau and took a few of her favorite servants with her. Aunt Bertha was, at that time, spoken for. I really don't know what happened.” She sighed.

  Both thought, “Never mind the engagement of Bertha.” Baron Leibnitz's family had bought their title from Emperor Josef the second, who in turn had been eager to fill his mother's coffers. Having accomplished that, he had entered into a marriage with a very wealthy widow, who had borne him six children in seven years. His other favorite pastimes had consisted of hunting and womanizing.

  “Did you know Baron von Leibnitz, Sir?” Stephany asked politely, after observing their exchange of rather strange glances.

  “We know of him, but so did everyone else in Vienna,” Albert confirmed in a final tone.

  “Quelle petit monde,” Otto stated, still surprised, shaking his head, not realizing he had spoken in French.

  “N'est-ce pas?” Stephany answered swiftly, to their amazement. “So sorry, Sir!” she said simply, trying to excuse her quick remark, remembering her aunt's warning and her own instilled good manners, when Albert and Otto burst out in laughter about their own faux-pas.

  “No, forgive me!” Otto said quickly “I didn't even realize I was speaking French.” They all laughed and then segued to other pleasant chitchat. Questions were asked and answered that concerned her childhood and background but were presented in such a way that she was more than happy to furnish all the desired information.

  Stephany was not only easy to look at, but also so easy to be and talk with, that there was no doubt that she would be the one. “The only one,” as Otto had rightly predicted.

  Dinner was over, aunt Bertha's dessert had been praised and more wine had been served. And both Albert and Otto suggested coffee, laughingly gesturing towards the adjoining room, separated by an oversized French door. “This is our very own coffee house. The only thing we appreciated coming from the Turks!”

  “What a beautiful cozy room!” exclaimed Stephany, looking at the silk-covered walls and admiring the crystal sconces.

  Albert and Otto's countenances had changed from uneasiness to a lighter and more relaxed mood, while Stephany's initial relaxed feeling was now increasingly turning into tension, as she still did not have the slightest indication as to why she had been invited to dinner.

  “We understand, you are quite content here.” Albert reopened the conversation with a twinkle, serving her coffee and Otto offered cream and sugar. “It's very pleasant to know this, because it's not always an easy task to work for two unpredictable bachelors. Especially when I had to grow a beard so everyone can tell us apart!” Albert quipped, stroking his beard.

  “Now, now, Papa. Why don't you tell the whole story, as you usually do in good company. You've grown that beard so no one will mistake you for my son!” And turning to a laughing Stephany, he added more seriously, “No doubt you must be wondering why we've asked you to join us for dinner.”

  “Why, yes Sir, very much so!”

  “Well, for one thing, we would like you to get to know us a little better.”

  “That is very flattering, Sir,” she answered contentedly, returning his smile.

  “And our household, of course,” Albert added awkwardly, just to say something.

  “I am so glad to hear that!” She sighed, relieved. “I am really hoping not to have to work in the kitchen. It's a bit noisy there for me.” Seeing their astounded expressions, she wondered if she had said too much or had been too blunt. “I hope I haven't been too frank, Sir.”

  “Who told you that you'd be working in the kitchen?”

  “Well, I suppose we all did. The servants. It was either the kitchen or learning to be a head housemaid, like Mrs. Fischer... in the future, of course!” For the first time that evening, Stephany stammered quietly, partly afraid she had assumed wrongly.

  Albert felt it was time for him to leave, as the rest was now up to Otto, so he excused himself, muttering that it was already late for his afternoon nap, but a pleasurable half an hour of lateness. He smiled at Stephany, half ordering, “We are taking supper at seven, and we expect you here again. That is, if you would like to join us.”

  “With your permission, I shall be happy to,” she answered cautiously, wondering once more “why?”

  “I always take a stroll through the garden while father is taking his nap. Some black swans have arrived today from Hungary and I am quite anxious to see them. They are supposedly very rare! Would you join me to pay them a friendly visit?”

  “I'd love to, Sir! There is something so special about swans, not to mention their grace and harmony which are so pleasurable to look at.”

  “I agree wholeheartedly! I spend many hours at our pond watching whatever swims by.”

  She smiled at him again as he took her hand, helping her across the small bridge which led to an arched entrance gate with the regal 'R' she had been told about fashioned into the iron work, and which also could not be overlooked.

  “Miss Stephany, if all my endless ramblings and any of my questions should bore you or I seem too inquisitive, please don't hesitate to say so,” Otto stated with concern and forthrightness after a lengthy walk through their beautifully manicured garden.

  “On the contrary, Mr. Reinhardt, I enjoy myself immensely! I enjoy conversation so much, as no one ever takes the trouble to ask me anything.”

  “No one?”

  “Not really,” she answered, looking straight into his eyes, finally arriving at his favorite bench overlooking the tranquil pond with the swan house that had been built on a mound in the middle, and was surrounded by countless blooming water lilies.

  “Breathtakingly beautiful!” she exclaimed in delight.

  “Let's sit down for a while.” He offered her a seat and sat next to her. “Miss Stephany, may I come right to the point of my most urgent question—if I can just find the right words—since this is likely the most important question I'll ever ask in my entire life,” he stuttered, unable to look at her as he reached for her hands. “The real reason you were invited is...well....the very moment I saw you...and I mean the first time,” he stressed again. “Well, I immediately knew that you are the only woman, I could ever love! So...so... could you love me? Would you marry me? Please don't look so frightened!” he pleaded, as Stephany began to visibly tremble, changing her color from white to deep red, trying to find words to reply to him.

  Certainly this may have been the most difficult question to ask, but it would also be the most difficult to answer. Of course she could love him with all her heart, but there were so many other factors and obstacles that would have to be considered. Her mind raced in a thousand different directions and she finally replied, still stupefied about her painful decision.

  “May I think on it, Sir?”

  “Why, Miss Stephany?”

  “Because... because this has come so unexpectedly, and I am in a state of confusion!”

  “About being able to love me?”

  “Oh no, Mr. Reinhardt! It's not that at all!” She said it softly, regaining some of her color as well as her composure.

  “Well then, is there anything else?” he asked hesitantly, somewhat gratified, but impatiently waiting for a more precise answer.

  “Actually, I am mostly concerned because I have just met you and hardly know you.”

  At this, he interrupted. “But we have a lifetime ahead of us to get to know each other! So what is your next worry?”

  “Our family background. With this, I mean ancestry. Then there is a certain social standing and education, and of course, there is also the matter of the dowry. Just to name a few! After all, I am a seamstress, even if I am called embroideries, which still is a servant's position. And don't forget, Mr. Reinhardt, a Bohemi
an at that!” she replied, almost in tears.

  “Do you believe these trivial matters would bother me? I am asking for your hand in marriage because I love you and not because we are in need of financial support.” He tenderly lifted up her bowed head. “Please look at me, Miss Stephany,” he commanded kindly but firmly. “Money or dowry is not important, you are. And as far as education is concerned, I have observed that you will outshine most people I have known. What is important, however, is that you will be a good student, with me being the teacher, of course!” he jested, smiling warmly at her. “Social status will come in time and through marriage, as is usually the case. And as far as our ancestry or family tree is concerned, Father has removed so many twigs and branches years ago that our tree stands almost bare, held together only by its roots, which were doubtlessly planted with great care and high hopes in 1509.” He took a deep sigh. “So that's about it!”

  Stephany was amazed and also moved, not only because of his complete honesty, but also by his sincere tone of voice.

  “Personally, I am only troubled by the fact that you would be sharing your precious young years with me. If you'll marry me and if I am not repulsive to you and not too old and awkward for you. Those are the 'ifs' that are of greatest importance to me, since my greatest desire is to make us both very happy!”

  Before she could comment, he continued, watching her expression. “All this was not anticipated.... not until I met you. It just happened, and thank God it did!” He kissed her hands, moving a bit closer towards her and then stroked her cheek lightly. Instinctively, she took his hand and held it very tightly to her face, whispering, “It happened to me also, Mr. Reinhardt!”

  "Well then, I can consider myself the luckiest man alive and we can both set our doubts to rest, by announcing our official engagement today!”

  “Today?” she cried, bewildered, her beautiful large eyes growing even wider. “Don't you want to think any further on this, Mr. Reinhardt?” And as an afterthought, “And what about your father?”