by Max Howell
“All right, Muriel, it’s a deal. But I wouldn’t be surprised if your parents kick me out.”
“Have no fear, Henry, have no fear. I can pick you up in my car – I have my own, did I tell you?”
“I appreciate that, but if you don’t mind I’ll use my bicycle. I leave one at Harvard. Your parents may as well see the real me.”
They got up and left the restaurant, and walked holding hands, until they bade farewell. Without thinking, he drew her to him and kissed her. Both their bodies shuddered.
As they walked away from each other, they were both excited, and all they could think about was the other.
When Muriel got back to her sorority house, she called her home, and her father answered. She did not mince words. “Dad”, she said, “I’m ringing to tell you I have met the man I want to marry.”
“You’ve what? Don’t talk like a child!”
“I’m not a child any more. I’m coming home for the week-end, and I’ll tell you all about it then. Oh, yes… I’ve invited him home for lunch on Sunday. Is that all right, Dad?”
“Of course. I hope, Muriel, you aren’t in any trouble?” She laughed and replied, “No, nothing like that, Dad. I’ll see you both on Friday, and tell you all about him.”
“Do we know him, Muriel?”
“No, he’s an unknown in so far as the family is concerned. But leave it until Friday. ‘Bye, Dad”, and she hung up.
When she got home on Friday she told her parents what had happened, and how this young man had completely intrigued her. Her mother even took her aside and cautiously asked her if she were pregnant. When she told her mother she and Henry had only kissed once, a goodbye kiss after lunch, the parents then realised that their young, 19-year-old daughter actually was in love. They were prepared for anything.
On Sunday at 11.30, Henry cycled his way up to the mansion, left his bike on the ground and went up to the door. Before he could ring the bell, Muriel was there to greet him, beautiful as always, excited and nervous. She held his hand, and took him into the Library.
Henry quickly surveyed everything. There were thousands of books in the Library, and her parents were much as he expected. Her father was about 50 years-of-age, grey-haired and quite rugged looking. Well groomed, he looked the embodiment of a successful executive. He thought if talent scouts in Hollywood were searching for such a person for a movie, he would waltz in. Her mother had not greyed, she was petite and beautiful. He could see Muriel’s features in her smile.
Her father spoke first: “So this is Mr. Luce!”
“It’s Henry, sir”, he said quietly.
“Well, Henry, you can call me what you want. It’s Clifford Hemingway, and this is my wife Mary.”
“I prefer to call you Mr. and Mrs Hemingway, if you don’t mind.”
“If that suits you, son, it’s good enough for us.” Secretly, Clifford Hemingway was quite pleased, as the young of the day, in his opinion, were too familiar in their relationships with older people.
After the preliminary good graces were over the parents began a careful but relentless grilling of Henry. They knew their daughter well when she had made up her mind, and never before had she invited a young man home specifically to meet them. They drew Henry out slowly, finding out every aspect of his life from childhood to the present.
At one stage Muriel broke into the conversation: “Dad, I am taking History at Wellesley, and just last week we studied the Spanish Inquisition. This reminds me of that Inquisition. He’s only coming for lunch, you know!” It broke the ice, so to speak, and everything went smoothly from then on.
What was obvious to her parents was that Henry Luce was not the least bit intimidated by them or by the situation in which he found himself. He had answered all their questions without hesitation, and had done so simply and truthfully. They were not overly pleased that he had little to offer in the financial sense, but after all he was the son of missionaries and what else would one expect. They had nothing against missionaries, in fact gave money for missionary work, but they were wary of bible-bashers, those extremists who felt everyone should mould their lives with religion foremost in their thoughts. They were not irreligious, but certainly not overly religious. It was soon clear to them that Henry put religion in a correct perspective, and was not a mirror of his parents.
The crucial question insofar as the parents were concerned was that related to Henry’s goals in life. “What do you want to do with yourself, son?” They both leaned forward intently to hear his reply.
Undaunted, Henry told the truth. “Mr. Hemingway, to be perfectly truthful I am not certain what I want to be. I guess the only generalisation I can make is that I would not be satisfied with a life like that of my parents. Please do not misunderstand me. I love my parents, worship them in actual fact. I have never met finer people in my life than them. They have sacrificed for me, and they have provided me with moral values and an idealistic view, a desire to try to help others in life as well as oneself. But I have no wish to live a thread-bare existence, a life depending on the charity of others. This is the down-side of their lives in my opinion. But I say again, please do not misunderstand me. I love them dearly, both of them.”
He did not stop there. “I said at the beginning I do not know what I want to be. That is true in precise terms. But I do know what I want to do. I want to graduate with Honours at Harvard, and my every moment will be devoted to that. I was top of my high school and I received a scholarship to Harvard. But my motivation is not because of those two things. I have lived without money, but my conclusion is that being poor and happy is unusual, whereas being rich and happy is a lot easier. I do not wish to appear materialistic, but I want many of the things that I have been denied. I would somehow like to meld my dreams of financial success with compassion for others. If it is at all possible, that is what I would like to do. After my undergraduate degree, I would like to attempt the new Master of Business Administration degree at Harvard. I understand it is quite revolutionary insofar as University degrees are concerned, and will provide me with the latest ideas with respect to being successful in business. At the moment, I have an open mind as to what business I shall get into. It may be obvious to you, sir, but I am somewhat naive in this direction. I sort of feel it will come to me in my studies. Until then, I will do everything in my power, through the simple expedient of hard work, to do as well as I can at University. I hope, sir, that answers your question, inadequate as it may be.”
“On the contrary, son”, replied Mr. Hemingway, “I am pretty clear as to what you are about, contrary to the usual nit-wits that my daughter has associated with. But enough of the Inquisition as my daughter calls it, but we are always concerned about our daughter’s friends. We regard her as something very special.”
“So do I, sir”, said Henry without hesitation.
“So let’s to lunch.”
He walked over to Muriel, who was beaming. He knew immediately that he had not let her down. She held his hand, and pressed it, as they walked to the dining room.
After lunch, Muriel could hardly wait to get him aside. “What did you think of my parents, Henry?” she asked.
“They were both very impressive, Muriel. I felt they would be more dogmatic, so successful and all that. What is for certain is that they love their only daughter… and they want to protect her. I liked them very much.”
“And they liked you, Henry, they really liked you. I know them only too well, and it is the first time I have ever seen them interested in the slightest with one of my friends, boys or girls. They dismiss them all as being hopelessly immature. They did not do that with you.”
After she showed him over the estate, she asked: “Well, what do you think?”
“What do I think? Well, I don’t know what to say, other than that I have never seen anything like it. Certainly beats Mission life! If I can use a baseball phrase, my parents and I are in a different league, and doubtless your parents will dutifully point that out to you.�
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“You don’t know my parents like I do. They might surprise you!”
“We shall see, Muriel. But I must be off in my trusty bicycle, as I have to study.”
“Let me drive you back, Henry. We can put the bicycle in the back.”
“Thanks, Muriel, but not today. It is such a beautiful day, and I would like to plod along, take in the scenery, and feel the fresh air in my face. Perhaps you might call me tonight? I would like to know your parents’ reaction.” He gently kissed her good-bye.
She waited until he had disappeared, but with a quick glance noticed her parents also staring after him from the study. Feeling elated, she ran into the study, looked at her parents and said: “Well?”
“Well? What are we supposed to say? One thing for certain, he is a cut above any other of your friends you’ve introduced us to. He certainly is a very impressive young man. We would like to think about it overnight, and perhaps give you a more definitive answer to-morrow.”
“Okay, Mum and Dad. But I know it in my heart. That young man you just met will be my husband.” She smiled at them, turned and went up the long staircase leading to her room. It’s funny, she thought, yesterday I felt like a young girl, I now feel like a woman. She lay on her bed, thinking of this unusual young man who had entered her life and transformed her. She knew in her heart of hearts that she could never be the same again.
That evening she called him on the telephone, and told him what her parents had said. He was pleased, at least he had not made a fool of himself, which was a possibility to his mind. Then they talked on and on, as young people in love will.
The next morning she had breakfast with her parents. She smiled, and in that open and fresh manner that was characteristic of her, she asked: “Well?”
Her mother was the one who replied. “Muriel, we approve, it’s as simple as that. He is a fine, indeed outstanding man.”
Muriel beamed. “I told you so!”
“You certainly did, young lady”, her mother continued, “but we have had a long discussion and we would like to add a few things.”
“What, Mum, he’s the man I want.”
“We understand that, darling, but you are only 19 years of age.”
“Mum, you were only 19 when you married Dad.”
They all laughed, but mother persevered. “You have got me there, to be sure. But I was wealthy, and your father was wealthy and successful. We did not have the problems that you two would face. Your degree, his degrees. We would help, you know that. It’s your age, darling, and after all you have just met. We applaud your choice, and support you absolutely, but we would like you to slow down a bit, get to know him better and he should get to know you better. Let us all compromise a bit here and have a little wait period, and we want to get to know him better as well. How about bringing him here each weekend?”
“He won’t do it, Mum, I know him. He is embarrassed a bit about his clothes and things like that. I know that won’t bother you, but it will him. What he would like is similar to what happened yesterday, that he comes for lunch. Dinner is a bit more of a problem, unless I pick him up in his car, as he is liable to kill himself peddling back to University in the dark.”
“All right, darling, let us leave it this way. Invite him to lunch every Saturday – not Sunday as he may feel he should go to church – for the next month. After that we shall see. Is that fair?”
“Yes, Mum, it’s fair.”
For the next month, Henry dutifully appeared every Saturday, the parents, and for that matter Muriel, getting to know him better. At the end of the month, after lunch, the parents requested that they all have a discussion.
Henry hardly knew what to expect, and sat anxiously in a large leather chair in the Library. Muriel’s father cleared his throat. He looked Henry straight in the eyes. “My boy”, he said, “we have given what we are about to say a great deal of thought over the last month, so we would like to present our thoughts to both of you for consideration.”
“First, we would like to repeat the obvious. Muriel has heard this before. Henry, we think you are the most sensible person of your age we have met. Frankly, we didn’t know young Muriel had so much good sense.” Henry nodded his head in appreciation, yet he wondered what was coming next.
“What we would like to say is that we acknowledge the fact that you two are in love. It is all too obvious the depth of commitment you both feel. We aren’t so old as all that to forget what this is all about, and let me tell you something if you don’t know it. My wife and I are still very much in love, in a disturbing age when we find so many of our close friends getting divorced as the years roll on. I guess what we are saying is that you have only known one another for five or six months. Look, you two are awfully young. Muriel, you are 19. Henry, you are older, at 21. Muriel reminded us that her mother was only 19 when she married me, but as we pointed out to her our financial situation was vastly different to yours. We know you are not babes in the wood, but you both are awfully, awfully young, and whatever you may personally think, neither of you has all the answers.”
“Henry, let’s get this clear. We couldn’t give a damn about your parents being missionaries and that you and they have little money. It’s of no consequence to us. What is important to us is that your parents have nurtured a pretty fine young man, who can think independently and has achievable goals in his life. One of these is to increase wealth by honest means. Many of my friends have succeeded in the former with no thought to the latter.” The idea amused him, and he gave a little chuckle.
“Now to the main point in this long diatribe. We would like to strike a bargain with you both. We thoroughly approve you dating each other, for as long as you like, up to the point where Muriel finishes her BA at Wellesley and you finish your MBA at Harvard. If you agree with this, we give our unconditional guarantee that you can marry if you feel the same at that time.. That is our main, but not our sole, point.”
Muriel and Henry looked at one another, and beamed. This was really beyond their expectations. They thought it would take ages to get her parents completely onside. They nodded to each other, and then Henry said: “We agree, sir, and thank you both for your consideration.”
Her father cleared his throat again. “There’s something else we would like you both to consider.” He paused, and he obviously found his thoughts difficult to articulate. “Your mother and I, and it may seem we are old-fashioned, but we would appreciate it if you did not have sex before you’re married. I find it very difficult to say this, as you might imagine, and we realise it will not be easy for you both. We believe it will make your marriage all the more meaningful. We actually believe that. Can we agree or not?”
Muriel walked over to Henry, kissed him and said softly: “I will agree if you do, Henry.” He turned to Muriel’s father and said: “We respect your forthrightness, and we agree. You have our word.”
Her parents breathed a sigh of relief. Her father said: “We thought you would agree, and we are very pleased. We knew our daughter was an exceptional young woman, and you are an exceptional young man.”
He continued: “I keep saying there’s one other thing, and I really will end with this. Henry, it never hurt to give someone a helping hand. I can’t say I have been overly successful in this regard, but I feel it’s not too late to try. Henry, I would like you to work for me in your vacations. We can settle on your wage later, but I’m sure you’ll find it more than adequate. Look at it as vocational training in an established business. I think my shipping interests need a budding MBA. I warn you, however, you’ll be starting at the ground level doing menial tasks. You may be pushing loads around, cleaning floors, and so on… It will be hard work. After it is all over the direction you take will be entirely up to you. What do you say?”
There was no delay in his reply. “I’m overjoyed, Mr. Hemingway, and I can promise you I will give one hundred percent in everything I do.”
“Then it’s a deal”, the father said, shaking hands with
Henry to seal the agreement, and kissing his daughter, as did her mother.
“I understand Muriel drove you here today, and I know you both will have lots to talk about, so drive safely back to Harvard. Me, I’m ready for an early whiskey and soda. This is the hardest negotiation I’ve had in many a day.”
Henry and Muriel walked outside together, holding hands but saying nothing. After a few miles she pulled the car off into a side street, and stopped. They fell into each other’s arms. “I’ve never seen my father like that”, she said, “he has been really impressed with you.”
“And I with him, Muriel, I with him. I can see a new and unexpected world opening up for me, one that we both shall share till the end of time.”
Henry’s parents were soon told what had transpired, and were somewhat shocked at first, as their son had shown only passing interest in the opposite sex, and now was even talking of marriage. Henry brought Muriel out to meet them, and they soon understood how his head was turned by this vivacious and beautiful young lady. When they were informed about her father’s conditions, they thoroughly approved, and realised that Henry also had a rare opportunity to venture into the business world. Their own resources had been stretched to the limit with Henry at Harvard, as the scholarship, welcome though it was, did not cover everything. The vacation work and his financial independence was a most pleasant surprise for them.
In ensuing months both sets of parents met, and got on famously, despite their social differences.
The years rolled on, and they kept their promise to Muriel’s parents, though at times they found it difficult to restrain themselves. Everyone at Wellesley and Harvard slowly recognised them as a couple, and they were always invited as such to various College and University functions.
Without interfering with his studies, where he was always at the top of his class, Henry found that the association with Muriel expanded his own limited social interests, and by the time he graduated he was reasonably proficient at tennis, sailing and squash, and was even introduced to an ancient game, a forerunner of tennis, called Royal Tennis. He found it quite intriguing, and was surprised there were a few such courts among the very rich Bostonians.
