“Allow me, your Excellency!” she said earnestly, ignoring Manfred's helpless stare. “As you very well know, my husband and I are constantly involved in representing Germany in Vienna's social circle, of which the Reinhardts are one of the most esteemed families. I am sure I speak also for my husband when I say that both of us hold great admiration and respect for this remarkable gentleman! His immense dislike for anything and anyone connected with Prussia is very well known, but so is the fact that his son is an invalid, suffering from a head wound he received in the war of 1866. One cannot condemn him for that!”
“I lost two brothers in that war myself,” the Ambassador responded without emotion, neither sympathetically nor regretfully.
Manfred, too, was completely unmoved. Lotte gave the Consul's wife, who had momentarily paused, a sad but appreciative look. The Consul's wife continued. “But I have also heard him, on many occasions, speak out against the house of Habsburg, regardless of how many nobles were present! For the past twenty years, he has dedicated himself to the improvement of the living conditions of the poor and has worked tirelessly right along Great Councilman Karl Lueger's plan to change the city by bringing transportation, gaslight, sanitation, housing and most of all, to establish more hospitals in Vienna! Karl Reinhardt has quarreled endlessly in the highest courts for any of the costly changes he thought necessary benefiting the less fortunate.”
“Lord knows they need that,” interrupted Manfred. “Never have seen anything like it! A multitude of baroque churches, opulent palaces, castles and feudal estates, yet their average citizen is poverty-stricken, lives practically in shacks and hovels, without windows and perhaps a single water pump serving twenty families!”
“It’s hardly much different from any other large city, including Berlin, my dear Manfred!” Lotte amended ardently, to everyone's surprise.
“The population has grown by two hundred and fifty percent, and the destitute, may they be right or wrong in doing so, are flocking to the cities to find work. Even though very few are bettering their situation, no one can stop them. But it's people like the Reinhardts and Luegers who can help enormously to ease their distress. The reputation of both is legendary!”
“Karl Reinhardt. Karl Reinhardt,” Victoria uttered hesitantly. After putting the name in context, she looked at the Consul's wife. “Wasn't he also one of many architects who built Vienna's beautiful Ringstraβe?”
“Of course, he was, Miss von Wintersberg! That was only one of the many projects he was wholly committed to. You probably have learned a great deal about him in your art classes!” Irma replied excitedly. “This has no bearing on his work, but he is also known for his dislike of titles, unless someone is a professional man like a medical doctor or maybe a lawyer!”
“How bizarre in a country like Austria, where everyone just loves to live for any type of title, no matter how ridiculous it may be. Titles that may go down to the most insignificant office clerk or even servant!” boasted Manfred with a grin, showing off his knowledge about Austrian customs. “This man must be an eccentric, to say the least,” he sneered, reaching for his glass again.
“With his enormous wealth, he can afford to be anything he wishes to be!” Irma Kronthaler voiced eloquently. “Are you familiar with their castle in Lindenfels?”
“Not really! I only know this quaint little town, Lindenfels, and that it has quite an abundance of castles and manor houses for the undeserving rich.”
“You cannot be serious in what you are saying!”
“I am! Maybe my wife and daughter know more about it. They are more interested in things like castles and such,” he replied, wholly unimpressed.
The Consul now felt it was time to say something in the Reinhardt's defense. “Well, well, dear Manfred, let me enlighten you a bit! Lindenfels is as much to the Reinhardts as the Reinhardts are to Lindenfels. Aside from their picturesque castle in its fairy tale setting, there are also their well-known stables, surrounded by acres of pastures and forestlands. Not to forget their vineyards that produce very superb wines only few of us can afford to serve at the dinner table! I could, of course, go on with my praise for the rest of the night!”
“But I was told their wealth came from their factory and banks in Vienna!” the Ambassador uttered in amazement.
“Now I ask you, why would anyone in his right mind want to have to take care of so much?” the Count answered sincerely, still considering the matter of no importance. “Can you tell me why anyone should want all that?” he repeated, looking at the still dumbfounded Ambassador.
“You are putting me in a tight spot, Manfred! But a bit more then my wife and I have wouldn't hurt or bother me at all!” he answered gaily.
“I’ll drink to that!” Consul Kronthaler concurred, lifting his glass and smiling at his wife.
“We’d better go home. There is too much drinking going on here tonight,” the Ambassador stuttered to his guests' great relief.
“Where is Lady Victoria?” asked Baron Kreibich, dashing by their table, completely out of breath.
“Checking on our wraps. You may wait, if you like, and in the meantime help me out of my chair. To have only one leg is sometimes a problem!”
“Happy to oblige, sir! However, I must talk to her before I leave!” he insisted with nervous excitement, clicking his heels and departing in haste.
“Dear Miss Victoria, I can never thank you enough for introducing me to Philip Reinhardt and his aunt!”
“You are very welcome!” she smiled, wanting to tell him that she also had just met Lillian Essler for the first time.
“I am so very, very lucky!” he went on. “I am going to dance until the last guest has gone home!”
“Good for you!” Lotte nodded curiously. “Any particular reason for all this cheerfulness?”
“Reasons!” he grinned with pride and joy, clicking his heels again. “Dearest Countess, I shall not only have the opportunity to see the Reinhardt and Essler stables, but also to ride some of their finest thoroughbreds! If those are no reasons to celebrate, I don't know what is!”
“We are both so happy for you!” Victoria laughed, looking at her mother as both shared his newfound excitement.
“Thank you again! And to think that I almost didn't make it to the ball tonight. It makes me marvel at what I would have missed.”
“Me too!” Victoria assured him, smiling inwardly, her thoughts again with Philip as he walked away, still murmuring to himself.
“Victoria, did Baron Kreibich find you? He seemed so anxious to talk to you.”
“Yes, he did, Papa.”
“And? And?” he said hopefully, waiting for a more specific reply.
“He got permission to ride the finest horses anytime he wishes!”
“You mean that was it?”
“That's all that matters to him, Papa.”
“What an imbecile! Just to think that his father will be one of the Generals in our next war, and he worries about what horses he might be permitted to ride next!” He shook his head in disbelief. “His poor parents! Which reminds me, tomorrow we must travel to Berlin.”
“Today, Papa. It's almost two in the morning!” she said, thinking of Philip's accurate time keeping.
∼
Their coach seated four. The Count had no choice but to offer a ride home to an equally intoxicated Baron von Ritter. Not to do so would have been intolerable and he would have suffered the consequences later, when the Baron was in a more sober condition. In apparent harmony, the two men chanted the Emperors’ waltz. Only it wasn't their Emperor the waltz had been written for. Their Kaiser Wilhelm in Berlin would have had both of them transferred as fast as possible to anywhere a German flag was flying, notwithstanding their excuses. No matter what the occasion, sober or intoxicated, no wine, women, nor music were allowed to get the best of any officer in Kaiser Wilhelm's employ. To Victoria and Lotte, it was an unusual but amusing sight.
“Are you happy?” asked Lotte abruptly, taking her daughter
's hand and softly patting it.
“Like a starved kitten that just has found a bowl of milk!”
“Don't spill it, dear child.”
“Not if I can help it, Mama!”
“You have my pledge.” The count lifted his arm, pretending to bring out a toast. “Milk is very good for you.”
“We know, Papa.” Victoria smiled, leaning across her laughing mother, trying to reach her father's hand. “Thank you for bringing us to the ball, Papa. I am the happiest woman in Vienna tonight!”
“Wouldn't have missed it myself! Not for anything in the world!” he declared, thinking of his newly acquired honor in being seated with the Ambassador.
“You are the most loving Prussian family I have known so far. My Lord, how I envy you!” the Ambassador said, while leaving the coach. “The best of luck to you in Berlin, Manfred! And please hurry back!”
“Thank you, sir. I shall return just as soon as possible.”
Both women waved and smiled. “Will he be all right, Papa?” Victoria asked, concerned, watching him stagger, supported by the coachman.
“He will until he opens the door!” the Count laughed, knowing the Baroness von Ritter's temperament and intolerance of insobriety.
∼
Not until Philip had reached the richly gas-lit, luxurious Reinhardt mansion did the coachman mention that a priest had been called by his parents to give Karl Reinhardt the last rites.
“Did Papa ask for one?” Philip inquired in surprise.
“I keep wondering about this also, sir, but at a time like this, your parents may want to do the right thing and not take any chances.”
“Do you know if they've sent for Uncle...I mean Father Christopher?”
“Yes, they have.”
“Good! He would feel hurt otherwise.”
“He will be deeply sad either way, just like the rest of us who have served and known Papa Reinhardt.”
Philip's and the priest's coach arrived almost at the same time at the great portal, and both men warmly greeted each other as they walked up to the door.
“I guess they have gotten you out of bed.”
“That is not what concerns me, Philip. I only wish the occasion were a different one. I refuse to believe Papa Reinhardt's illness is that severe!” the priest said gravely.
“I fully agree with you. Really, all of us do! Until this evening he was behaving as ever, pleading with all of us, or rather ordering us, to go to the ball. Father sent me, and he and Mother stayed here, of course, just to be sure. Now I wonder if they suspected more than they led me to believe!”
“That was very wise of them. But then, it's your father's profession to know or at least recognize the signs.”
“Excuse me, Mama! I'll be right back with you,” Philip said, embracing his disconsolate mother. “I just have to tell Grandfather something that's very important.”
She nodded silently and gave him a faint smile, relieved that he had returned so quickly from the ball. Philip was catching his breath, taking two steps at a time to reach the second floor.
“Papa won't know you anymore,” his father murmured.
“My God, is it that serious?”
“I'm afraid it's the end, Philip.”
“Can I at least try to talk to him?”
“Of course, if it makes you feel better.”
The room was as he had almost expected it to be. The Irish setter was stretched out right next to Papa Reinhardt, his head on his shoulder, his eyes fixed on the old man, not even moving when Philip entered the room. Tasso had been guarding his master for the past twelve years and had no intention of relinquishing his job to anyone now.
“Papa, dearest Papa, can you hear me?” Philip whispered, leaning over the old man, whose weak eyes were half opened without any other visible sign of life except for his irregular and labored breathing.
“Papa,” Philip said again. “I need to tell you now, as I can't wait until you are well again, about a very fine and beautiful young lady I have found and whom I am going to marry! I wanted you to be the first one to know. But I must also tell you that she is a Prussian!” He stroked his grandfather’s cheek. “But when you meet her, I know you will approve.” He choked back tears, realizing that he was really only pacifying himself, knowing that his grandfather would never be well again.
His parents and Father Christopher were now entering the room, his father asking, “Do you think he understood you?”
“I'm not quite sure, Father, but I did have to confess something to him, to be able to live with myself in the future.”
“Confess?” the priest asked, a little astonished. “Shouldn't you rather have come to see me, Philip?”
“What would a man like you understand about love?” Philip answered almost angrily, shaking his head and leaving a stunned priest and his awe-struck parents guessing.
“Dear Lord, have mercy! Papa should have a Rosary between his fingers instead of Tasso on his neck! Do you expect me to get his dog to heaven too?”
“Arrange it, and we'll put a new holy idol into your church.”
“Hold your tongue, Hannes. I already know you are a heathen.”
“Papa asked for the dog first, then he asked for you!” Hannes snapped in a huff. “And you should know that he did ask for the boy, Franz-Xavier, whom he had known for forty-five years, not for Father Christopher, the man in a black robe!”
“All right, Franz-Xavier, why don't you get on with your ritual, or whatever needs to be done, or whatever you must do. You understand that Hannes and I are very much on edge right now and troubled, and you worry where Papa's dearest and most loving friend is laying his head! Whatever happened to St. Bernhard's quotation, ‘He who loves me, also loves my dog!’ mocked Verena.
Knowing her stubbornness and persistence, no matter how unreasonable, when it came to her father's wishes as well as Hannes' point of view on Catholicism, he decided to leave many things that bothered him unsaid, as even the truth would have provoked them only further and he knew this would definitely be the wrong time. No doubt, Papa Reinhardt had asked for Tasso to be at his side, as he had for the boy, Franz-Xavier, but presently, he was a priest with a duty that had to be performed. This was his vocation and the Reinhardts were aware of this. Opening his Holy Book, he walked slowly to the bed, making the sign of the cross and surveying Papa's face closely. He sighed deeply then. “It's too late for a confession. I wish I had been called sooner!”
“We did send for you the minute he asked for you! He went so fast that even I was surprised,” Hannes answered calmly, knowing Papa had died.
“Franz-Xavier, you, of all people, should know that Papa confessed to his Master every single day of his life!” Verena cried, pointing to the prayer stool in the corner.
“I am fully aware of it.”
“Then don't try to change a good man's habits on his death bed!”
“Close his eyes, Verena. He's already with the Lord now.”
“You know I could never do this!” she protested, tears running down her face.
“Let me do this, please. Papa never allowed me to touch him in his lifetime...as a Physician that is,” he added. “But then, he was never really ill either. Only a little tired in the last few days.” Hannes closed Papa's eyes very gently, caressing his face under the watchful eyes of Tasso.
Verena was leaning on Franz-Xavier's shoulder, weeping quietly now. He, in turn, tried his best to comfort her, not only as their priest, but also as a brother. “Once in a while, our dear Lord creates a human being so unique, so compassionate, noble, and brave! A genius with vision so much greater than life itself. And Papa was such a man! There will never be anyone like him. I feel a whole era coming to an end!” the former orphan, Franz-Xavier said stoically, but still with a tremor in his voice, reminding himself that above all, he was a shepherd for God’s people.
“You will conduct the funeral, won't you, Franz-Xavier?”
“What a question, Verena! Our Papa wouldn't wan
t anyone else!” he said it with certainty and a little pride.
“Thank you,” Hannes said kindly, embracing his wife and trying to collect his thoughts and feelings. He was preparing himself for the difficult days ahead.
All three walked down the steps, clenching their hands together to face their servants, who had formed a line, all of them sad and solemnly waiting for what they already knew, some of them with tears streaming down their mournful faces. Philip tried to calm Elsa and some of their oldest servants who were weeping inconsolably in their already wet handkerchiefs.
“Papa Reinhardt is gone, isn't he?”
“No, he is not. We all know that he is up there from now on, watching out for all of us!” the priest smiled sadly but consolingly, pointing heavenwards.
“Dear Lord! He went so fast!” sobbed Elsa in despair.
“Listen to me, please. All of you. Try to see it in a different way! Papa lived his life in excellent health till now. He was eighty, and kept his quick mind and sense of humor until the very last day. He died the way he most likely always wanted to—like a gentleman and with dignity!”
“Or had a little agreement with our Lord,” Father Christopher added quietly in agreement.
“He had the good fortune to be right in his own bed, without a moment of suffering, probably thinking of all the good times he had at the many balls he had attended in his life! Now, what more can a man ask for in his last hours on earth?” It was Dr. Hannes Reinhardt, the professor and surgeon, who spoke as a man who had to deal with life and death every single day, but never had to go through the agony to close the eyes of a man who had spared him and his sister Lillian the grueling experience of a sad existence in an orphanage, and had adopted him into an empyrean life style. “We should really be grateful that Papa had such an easy way going home,” he added, more to calm himself than the servants.
“I have the coach ready waiting to take you back, Father Christopher.”
“No thank you, Walter. I would rather walk tonight and reflect on the times I had the good fortune to be with Papa! Hannes and Philip,” he whispered. “please put Tasso to sleep. I hate to think of the poor creature's suffering as he will never understand why his master has left him.”
Yesterday Was Long Ago: Part One Page 37
