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Authors: Thomas Mann

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PART THREE

CHAPTER I

ON a June afternoon, not long after five o'clock, the family were sitting before the "portal" in the garden, where they had drunk coffee. They had pulled the rustic furniture outside, for it was too close in the white-washed garden house, with its tall mirror decorated with painted birds and its varnished folding doors, which were really not folding doors at all and had only painted latches. The Consul, his wife, Tony, Tom, and Clothilde sat in a half-circle around the table, which was laid with its usual shining service. Christian, sitting a little to one side, conned the second oration of Cicero against Catiline. He looked un-happy. The Consul smoked his cigar and read the Advertiser. His wife had let her embroidery fall into her lap and sat smiling at little Clara; the child, with Ida Jungmann, was looking for violets in the grass-plot. Tony, her head propped on both hands, was deep in Hoffman's "Serapion Brethren," while Tom tickled her in the back of the neck with a grass-blade, an attention which she very wisely ignored. And Clo-thilde, looking thin and old-maidish in her flowered cotton frock, was reading a story called "Blind, Deaf, Dumb, and Still Happy." As she read, she scraped up the biscuit-crumbs carefully with all five fingers from the cloth and ate them. A few white clouds stood motionless in the slowly paling sky. The small town garden, with its carefully laid-out paths and beds, looked gay and tidy in the afternoon sun, The scent of the mignonette borders floated up now and then. "Well, Tom," said the Consul expansively, and took the cigar out of his mouth, "we are arranging that rye sale I fold you about, with van Henkdom and Company." "What is he giving?" Tom asked with interest, ceasing to tickle Tony. "Sixty thaler for a thousand kilo--not bad, eh?" "That's very good." Tom knew this was excellent busi-ness. "Tony, your position is not comme il faut," remarked the Frau Consul. Whereat Tony, without raising her eyes from her book, took one elbow off the table. "Never mind," Tony said. "She can sit how she likes, she will always be Tony Buddenbrook. Tilda and she are cer-tainly the beauties of the family." Clothilde was astonished almost to death. "Good gracious, Tom," she said. It was inconceivable how she could drawl out the syllables. Tony bore the jeer in silence. It was never any use, Tom was more than a match for her. He could al-ways get the last word and have the laugh on his side. Her nostrils dilated a little, and she shrugged her shoulders. But when the Consul's wife began to talk of the coming dance at the house of Consul Huneus, and let fall something- about new patent leather shoes, Tony took the other elbow off the table and displayed a lively interest. "You keep talking and talking," complained Christian fret-fully, "and I'm having such a hard time. I wish I were a business man." "Yes, you're always wanting something different," said Tom. Anton came across the garden with a card on his tray. They all looked at him expectantly. "Gr�, Agent," read the Consul. "He is from Ham-burg--an agreeable man, and well recommended, the son of a clergyman. I have business dealings with him. There is a piece of business now.--Is it all right, Betsy, if I ask him to come out here?" A middle-sized man, his head thrust a little forward of his body, carrying his hat and stick in one hand, came across the garden. He wag some two-and-thirty years old; he wore a fuzzy greenish-yellow suit with a long-skirted coat, and grey worsted gloves. His face, beneath the sparse light hair, was rosy and smiling; but there was an undeniable wart on one side of his nose. His chin and upper lip were smooth-shaven; he wore long, drooping side-whiskers, in the English fashion, and these adornments were conspicuously golden-yellow in colour. Even at a distance, he began making obsequious gestures with his broad-brimmed grey hat, and as he drew near he took one last very long step, and arrived describing a half-circle with the upper part of his body, by this means bowing to them all at once. "I am afraid I am disturbing the family circle," he said in a soft voice, with the utmost delicacy of manner. "You are conversing, you are indulging in literary pursuits--I must really beg your pardon for my intrusion." "By no means, my dear Herr Gr�," said the Consul. He and his sons got up and shook hands with the stranger. "You are very welcome. I am delighted to see you outside the office and in my family circle. Herr Gr�, Betsy--a friend of mine and a keen man of business. This is my daughter Antonie, and my niece Clothilde. Thomas you know already, and this is my second son, Christian, in High School." Herr Gr� responded to each name with an inclination of the body. "I must repeat," he said, "that I have no desire to intrude. I came on business. If the Herr Consul would be so good as to take a walk with me round the gardens--" The Con-sul's wife answered: "It will give us pleasure to have you sit down with us for a little before you begin to talk business with my husband. Do sit down." "A thousand thanks," said Herr Gr�, apparently quite flattered. He sat down on the edge of the chair which Tom brought, laid his hat and stick on his knees, and settled him-self, running his hand over his long beard with a little hem-ming and hawing, as if to say, "Well, now we've got past the introduction--what next?" The Frau Consul began the conversation. "You live in 95 Hamburg?" she asked, inclining her head and letting her work fall into her lap. "Yes, Frau Consul," responded Herr Gr� with a fresh bow. "At least, my house is in Hamburg, but I am on the road a good deal. My business is very flourishing--ahem--if I may be permitted to say so." The Frau Consul lifted her eyebrows and made respectful motions with her mouth, as if she were saying "Ah--indeed?" "Ceaseless activity is a condition of my being," added he, half turning to the Consul. He coughed again as he noticed that Fraulein Antonie's glance rested upon him. She gave him, in fact, the cold, calculating stare with which a maiden measures a strange young man--a stare which seems always on the point of passing over into actual contempt. "We have relatives in Hamburg," said she, in order to be saying something. "The Duchamps," explained the Consul. "The family of my late Mother." "Oh, yes," Herr Gr� hastened to say. "I have the honour of a slight acquaintance with the family. They are very fine people, in mind and heart. Ahem! This would be a better world if there were more families like them in it. They have religion, benevolence, and genuine piety; in short, they are my ideal of the true Christlike spirit. And in them it is united to a rare degree with a brilliant cosmopolitanism, an elegance, an aristocratic bearing, which I find most attrac-tive, Frau Consul." Tony thought: "How can he know my Father and Mother so well? He is saying exactly what they like best to hear." The Consul responded approvingly, "The combination is one that is becoming in everybody." And the Frau Consul could not resist stretching out her hand to their guest with her sweeping gesture, palm upward, while the bracelets gave a little jingle. "You speak as though you read my inmost thoughts, dear Herr Gr�," she said. Upon which, Herr Gr� made another deep bow, settled himself again, stroked his beard, and coughed as if to say: "Well, let us get on." The Frau Consul mentioned the disastrous fire which had swept Hamburg in May of the year 1842. "Yes, indeed," said Herr Gr�, "truly a fearful misfortune, A dis-tressing visitation. The loss amounted to one hundred and thirty-five millions, at a rough estimate. I am grateful to Providence that I came off without any loss whatever. The fire raged chiefly in the parishes of St. Peter and St. Nicholas.--What a charming garden!" he interrupted himself, taking the cigar which the Consul offered. "It is so large for a town garden, and the beds of colour are magnificent. I confess my weakness for flowers, and for nature in general. Those climbing roses over there trim up the garden uncommonly well." He went on, praising the refinement of the location., praising the town itself, praising the Consul's cigar. He had a pleasant word for each member of the circle. "May I venture to inquire what you are reading, Fraulein Antonie?" he said smiling. Tuny drew her brows together sharply at this, for some reason, and answered without looking at him, "Hoffmann's 'Serapion Brethren.' " "Really! He is a wonderful writer, is he not? Ah, par-don me--I forget the name of your younger son, Frau Con-sul?" "Christian." "A beautiful name. If I may so express myself"--here he turned again to the Consul--"I like best the names which show that the bearer is a Christian. The name of Johann, I know, is hereditary in your family--a name which always recalls the beloved disciple. My own name--if I may be-permitted to mention it," he continued, waxing eloquent, "is-that of most of my forefathers--Bendix. It can only be regarded as a shortened form of Benedict. And you, Herr Buddenbrook, are reading--? ah, Cicero. The works of this preat Roman orator make pretty difficult reading, eh? "Quo-97 usque tandem--Catalina'... ahem. Oh, I have not forgot-ten quite all my Latin." "I disagree with my late Father on this point," the Consul said. "I have always objected to the perpetual occupation of young heads with Greek and Latin. When there are so many other important subjects, necessary as a preparation for the practical affairs of life--" "You take the words out of my mouth," Herr Gr�hastened to say. "It is hard reading, and not by any means always unexceptionable--I forgot to mention that point. Everything else aside, I can recall passages that were posi-tively offensive--" There came a pause, and Tony thought "Now it's my turn." Herr Gr� had turned his gaze upon her. And, sure enough: he suddenly started in his chair, made a spasmodic but always highly elegant gesture toward the Frau Consul, and whispered ardently, "Pray look, Frau Consul, I beg of you.--Fr�ein, I implore you," he interrupted himself aloud, just as if Tony could not hear the rest of what he said, "to keep in that same position for just a moment. Do you see," he began whispering again, "how the sunshine is playing in your daughter's hair? Never," he said solemnly, as if transported, speaking to nobody in particular, "have I seen more beautiful hair." It was as if he were addressing his remarks to God or to his own soul. The Consul's wife smiled, well pleased. The Consul said, "Don't be putting notions into the girl's head." And again Tony drew her brows together without speaking. After a short pause, Herr Gr� got up. "But I won't disturb you any longer now--no, Frau Con-sul, I refuse to disturb you any longer," he repeated. "I only came on business, but I could not resist--indeed, who could resist you? Now duty calls. May I ask the Consul--" "I hope I do not need to assure you that it would give us pleasure if you would let us put you up while you are here," said the Frau Consul. Herr Gr� appeared for the moment struck dumb with gratitude. "From my soul I am grateful, Frau Consul," he said, and his look was indeed elo-quent with emotion. "But I must not abuse your kindness. I have a couple of rooms at the City of Hamburg--" "A couple of rooms," thought the Frau Consul--which was just what Herr Gr� meant her to think. "And, in any case," he said, as she offered her hand cor-dially, "I hope we have not seen each other for the last time." He kissed her hand, waited a moment for Antonie to extend hers--which she did not do--described another half-circle with his upper torso, made a long step backward and another bow, threw back his head and put his hat on with a flourish, then walked away in company with the Consul. "A pleasant man," the Father said later, when he came back and took his place again. "I think he's silly," Tony permitted herself to remark with some emphasis. "Tony! Heavens and earth, what an idea!" said the Con-sul's wife, displeased. "Such a Christian young man!" "So well brought up, and so cosmopolitan," went on the Consul. "You don't know what you are talking about." He and his wife had a way of taking each other's side like this, out of sheer politeness. It made them the more likely to agree. Christian wrinkled up his long nose and said, "He was so important. 'You are conversing'--when we weren't at all. And the roses over there 'trim things up uncommonly.' He acted some of the lime as if he were talking to himself. ll am disturbing you'--'I beg pardon'--'I have never seen more beautiful hair.' " Christian mocked Herr Gr� so cleverly that they all had to laugh, even the Consul. "Yes, he gave himself too many airs," Tony went on. "He talked the whole time about himself--his business is good, and he is fond of nature, and he likes such-and-such names, and his name is Bendix--what is all that to us, I'd like to know? Everything he said was just to spread himself." Her voice was growing louder all the time with vexation. "He said all the very things you like to hear, Mamma and Papa, and he said them just to make a fine impression on you both." "That is no reproach, Tony," the Consul said sternly. "Everybody puts his best foot foremost before strangers. We all take care to say what will be pleasant to hear. That is a commonplace." "I think he is a good man," Clothilde pronounced with drawling serenity--she was the only person in the circle about whom Herr Gr� had not troubled himself at all. Thomas refrained from giving an opinion. "Enough," concluded the Consul. "He is a capable, cul-tured, and energetic Christian man, and you, Tony, should try to bridle your tongue--a great girl of eighteen or nineteen years old, like you! And after he was so polite and gallant to you, too. We are all weak creatures; and you, let me say, are one of the last to have a right to throw stones. Tom, we'll get to work." Pert little Tony muttered to herself "A golden goat's beard!" and scowled as before.

CHAPTER II

TONY, coming back from a walk some days later, met Herr Gr� at the corner of Meng Street. " "I was most grieved to have missed you, Fraulein," he said. "I took the liberty of paying my respects to your Mother the other day, and I regretted your absence more than I can say. How delightful that I should meet you like this!" Fraulein Buddenbrook had paused as he began to speak; but her half-shut eyes looked no further up than the height of Herr Gr�'s chest. On her lips rested the mocking, merciless smile with which a young girl measures and rejects a man. Her lips moved--what should she say? It must be something, that would demolish this Herr Bendix Gr� once and for all--simply annihilate him. It must be clever, witty, and effective, must at one and the same time wound him to the quick and impress him tremendously. "The pleasure is not mutual, Herr Gr�," said she, keeping her gaze meanwhile levelled at his chest. And after she had shot this poisoned arrow, she left him standing there and went home, her head in the air, her face red with pride in her own powers of repartee--to learn that Herr Gr� had been invited to dinner next Sunday. And he came. He came in a not quite new-fashioned, rather wrinkled, but still handsome bell-shaped frock coat which gave him a solid, respectable look. He was rosy and smiling, his scant hair carefully parted, his whiskers curled and scented. He ate a ragout of shell-fish, julienne soup, fried soles, l oast veal with creamed potatoes and cauliflower, mara-schino pudding, and pumpernickel with roquefort; and he found a fresh and delicate compliment for each fresh course .101 Over the sweet he lifted his dessert-spoon, gazed at one of the tapestry statues, and spoke aloud to himself, thus: "God forgive me, I have eaten far too well already. But this pud-ding--! It is too wonderful! I must beg my good hostess for another slice." And he looked roguishly at the Consul's wife. With the Consul he talked business and politics, and spoke soundly and weightily. He discussed the theatre and the fashions with the Frau Consul, and he had a good word for Tom and Christian and Clothilde, and even for little Clara and Ida Jungmann. Tony sat in silence, and he did not un-dertake to engage her; only gazing at her now and then, with his head a little tilted, his face looking dejected and encouraged by turns. When Herr Gr� took his leave that evening, he had only strengthened the impressions left by his first visit. "A thoroughly well-bred man," said the Frau Consul. "An estimable Christian gentleman" was the Consul's opinion. Christian imitated his speech and actions even better than be-fore; and Tony said her good nights to them all with a frowning brow, for something told her that she had not yet seen the last of this gentleman who had won the hearts of her parents with such astonishing ease and rapidity. And, sure enough, coining back one afternoon from a visit with some girl friends, she found Herr Gr� cosily estab-lished in the landscape-room, reading aloud to the Frau Con-sul out of Sir Walter Scott's "Waverly." His pronunciation was perfect, for, as he explained, his business trips had taken him to England. Tony sat down apart with another book, and Herr Gr� softly questioned: "Our book is not to your taste, Fraulein?" To which -she replied, with her head in the air, something in a sarcastic vein, like "Not in the very least." But he was not taken aback. He began to talk about his long-dead parents and communicated the fact that his father had been a clergyman, a Christian, and at the same time a highly cosmopolitan gentleman.--After this visit, he de- parted for Hamburg. Tony was not there when he called to take leave. "Ida," she said to Mamsell Jungmann, "Ida, the man has gone." But Mamsell Jungmann only replied, "You'll see, child." And eight days later, in fact, came that scene in the break-fast room. Tony came down at nine o'clock and found her father and mother still at table. She let her forehead be kissed and sat down, fresh and hungry, her eyes still red with sleep, and helped herself to sugar, butter, and herb cheese. "How nice to find you still here, for once, Papa," she said as she held her egg in her napkin and opened it with her spoon. "But to-day I have been waiting for our slug-a-bed," said the Consul. He was smoking and tapping on the table with his folded newspaper. His wife finished her breakfast with her slow, graceful motions, and leaned back in the sofa. "Tilda is already busy in the kitchen," went on the Consul, "and I should have been long since at work myself, if your Mother and I had not been speaking seriously about a mat-ter that concerns our little daughter." Tony, her mouth full of bread and butter, looked first at her father and then her mother, with a mixture of fear and curiosity. "Eat your breakfast, my child," said the Frau Consul. But Tony laid down her knife and cried, "Out with it quickly, Papa--please." Her father only answered: "Eat your break-fast first." So Tony drank her coffee and ate her egg and bread and cheese silently, her appetite quite gone. She began to guess. The fresh morning bloom disappeared from her cheek, and she even grew a little pale. She said "Thank you" for the honey, and soon after announced in a subdued voice that she had finished. "My dear child," said the Consul, "the matter we desire to talk over with you is contained in this letter." He was tapping the table now with a big blue envelope instead of the 103 newspaper. "To be brief: Bendix Gr�, whom we have learned, during his short stay here, to regard as a good and a charming man, writes to me that he has conceived a strong inclination for our daughter, and he here makes a request in form for her hand. What does my child say?" Tony was leaning back in her seat, her head bent, her right hand slowly twirling the silver napkin-ring round and round. But suddenly she looked up, and her eyes had grown quite dark with tears. She said, her voice full of distress: "What does this man want of me? What have I done to him?" And she burst into weeping. The Consul shot a glance at his wife and then regarded his empty cup, embarrassed. "Tony dear," said the Frau Consul gently, "why this--�auffement? You know quite well your parents can only desire your good, And they cannot counsel you to reject forthwith the position offered you. I know you feel so far no particular inclination for Herr Gr�, but that will come; I assure you it comes, with time. Such a young thing as you is never sure what she wants. The mind is as confused as the heart. One must just give the heart time--and keep the mind open to the advice of experienced people who think and plan only for our good." "I don't know him the least little bit," Tony said in a de-jected tone, wiping her eyes on the little white batiste servi-ette, stained with egg. "All I know is, he has a yellow beard, like a goat's, and a flourishing business--" Her upper lip, trembling on the verge of tears, had an expression that was indescribably touching. With a movement of sudden tenderness the Consul jerked his chair nearer hers and stroked her hair, smiling. "My little Tony, what should you like to know of him? You are still a very young girl, you know. You would know him no better if he had been here for fifty-two weeks instead of four. You are a child, with no eyes yet for the world, and you must trust other people who mean well by you." "I don't understand--I don't understand," Tony sobbed helplessly, and put down her head as a kitten does beneath the hand that strokes it. "He comes here and says something pleasant to everybody, and then goes away again; and then he writns to you that he--that I--I don't understand. What made him? What have I done to him?" The Consul smiled again. "You said that once before, Tony; and it illustrates so well your childish way of reasoning. My little daughter must not feel that people mean to urge or torment her. We can consider it all very quietly; in fact, we must consider it all very quietly and calmly, for it is a very serious matter. Meanwhile I will write an answer to Herr Gr�'s letter, without either consenting or re-fusing. There is much to be thought of.--Well, is that agreed? What do you say?--And now Papa can go back to his work, can't he?--Adieu, Betsy." "Au revoir, dear Jean." 'Do take a little more honey, Tony," said the Frau Consul to her daughter, who sat in her place motionless, with her head bent. "One must eat." Tony's tears gradually dried. Her head felt hot and heavy with her thoughts. Good gracious, what a business! She had always known, of course, that she should one day marry, and be the wife of a business man, and embark upon a solid and advantageous married life, commensurate with the position of the family and the firm. But suddenly, for the first time in her life, somebody, some actual person, in serious earnest, wanted to marry her. How did people act? To her, her, Tony Buddenbrook, were now applicable all those tremendous words and phrases which she had hitherto met with only in books: her "hand," her "consent," "as long as life shall last!" Goodness gracious, what a step to take, all at once! "And you, Mamma? Do you too advise me to--to--to yield 105 my consent?" She hesitated a little before the "yield my con-sent." It sounded high-flown and awkward. But then, this was the first occasion in her life that was worthy of fine language. She began to blush for her earlier lack of self-control. It seemed to her now not less unreasonable than it had ten minutes ago that she should marry Herr Gr�; but the dignity of her situation began to fill her with a sense of importance which was satisfying indeed. "/ advise you to accept, my child? Has Papa advised you to do so? He has only not advised you not to, that is all. It would be very irresponsible of either of us to do that. The connection offered you is a very good one, my dear Tony. You would go to Hamburg on an excellent footing and live there in great style." Tony sat motionless. She was having a sort of vision of silk portieres, like those in grandfather's salon. And, as Madame Gr�, should she drink morning chocolate? She thought it would not be seemly to ask. "As your Father says, you have time to consider," the Frau Consul continued. "But we are obliged to tell you that such an offer does not come every day, that it would make your'fortune, and that it is exactly the marriage which duty and vocation prescribe. This, my child, it is my business to tell you. You know yourself that the path which opens before you to-day is the prescribed one which your life ought to follow." "Yes," Tony said thoughtfully. She was well aware of her responsibilities toward the family and the firm, and she was proud of them. She was saturated with her family history--she, Tony Buddenbrook, who, as the daughter of Consul Bud-denbrook, went about the town like a little queen, before whom Matthiesen the porter took off his hat and made a low bow! The Rostock tailor had been very well off, to begin with; but since his time, the family fortunes had advanced by leaps and bounds. It was her vocation to enhance the bril-liance of family and firm in her allotted way, by making a rich and aristocratic marriage. To the same end, Tom worked in the office. Yes, the marriage was undoubtedly precisely the right one. But--but--She saw him before her, saw his gold-yellow whiskers, his rosy, smiling face, the wart on his nose, his mincing walk. She could feel his woolly suit, hear his soft voice.... "I felt sure," the Consul's wife said, "that we were ac-cessible to quiet reason. Have we perhaps already made up our mind?" "Oh, goodness, no!" cried Tony, suddenly. She uttered the "Oh" with an outburst of irritation. "What nonsense! Why should I marry him? I have always made fun of him. I never did anything else. I can't understand how he can possibly endure me. The man must have some sort of pride in his bones!" She began to drip honey upon a slice of bread.

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