Simon Eichelkatz; The Patriarch Part 12

"So far as I can judge, he did succeed. Do you care to see the drawing?"

"Very much."

Rita rose involuntarily.

"Will you show it to Dr. Weilen, my dear?"

"Certainly, mother."

Miss Rita conducted him to her mother's room through the large state parlor, the walls of which, he noted in pa.s.sing, were covered with canva.s.ses of distinguished artists. In her mother's room, over a small Florentine inlaid table of the sixteenth century, hung the genealogical chart. The room was marked by the same rich style as prevailed elsewhere, but there was something more genial, more home-like in the artistically furnished boudoir. Not a boudoir in the ordinary sense of the word, but rather the apartment of a lady,--luxurious and subtly feminine withal. A soft glow from an iridescent hanging lamp dimly illuminated the room. Rita turned on the electric light inserted in the bowl of an antique lamp, and a bright radiance fell on the large chart occupying almost the entire wall s.p.a.ce.

Both stood regarding it without speaking.

Dr. Weilen was lost in contemplation, then he adjusted his eyegla.s.ses as if to see better. "So that is the old pedigree! That's the way it looks!

So our tribe has grown and multiplied! How remarkable and interesting!"

He was lost in contemplation again, and drew nearer to the chart to study it in detail. It seemed as if he had entirely forgotten Rita's presence; and she remained perfectly quiet, so as not to disturb him.

"Curious," he said, half to himself, "who would have believed it? If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I would not have realized the persistent vigor in the old stock." He turned his attention to the right-hand side of the chart, read a few names there, and then said to Rita: "Excuse my abstraction, but it is quite surprising. Are you interested in the history of the family?"

"Of course, I am used to it from childhood up, and my mother has always told me all the peculiarities and incidents of the family."

"And you know your cousins personally?"

"Quite many."

"And what is their station in life?"

"Every possible station. Look at all these branchings and ramifications.

There is hardly an occupation that does not claim one or the other.

Lawyers, physicians, tutors, merchants,--some very well placed and others less fortunate. One cousin is an African explorer, another has joined a North Pole expedition; and by marriage the women of the family have entered circles as various. Among the cousins by marriage there are architects, professors, dentists, veterinary physicians, engineers, and manufacturers. I think it would hardly be necessary to go outside of the family to find one of every kind, with the exception...." Here she suddenly paused in her vivacious explanations and stared at him with embarra.s.sment in her large eyes.

"Well, Miss Rita, what branch is lacking on the golden tree of life?"

A vivid blush suffused her face, which appeared all the prettier to him in its embarra.s.sed shyness.

"I will tell you. Do you see here to the right?" and he pointed out the place with his finger. "Here is the name Goldine, the last of the fourteen branches issuing from Rabbi Eliezer, joined to that of Herman Weilen--my parents; and here the broken branch, quite symbolic, do you see?--without a name,--that refers to me."

Anxious fear took possession of her.

"Oh, Herr Regierungsrat," she stammered.

"That's just it--Regierungsrat! I have been deprived of the cousins.h.i.+p on this genealogical tree. A scion without a name, disinherited!"

There was more sorrow than bitterness in his voice, and this gave her the courage to say: "It surely happened unintentionally. Nothing was known of you in our family, and it was taken for granted that you had broken off connection with it. We had only heard...." Suddenly she hesitated.

"Your reasons are significant, Miss Rita, the broken-off branch dares not call you cousin." A peculiar smile played about his lips. "But I should like to finish the thought you would not express. You had only heard that I had discarded the belief of my fathers, had changed my religion, had entered the service of the Government, had made a career for myself, and hoped to reach a still higher goal. That's it, is it not? A broken-off branch, but not a withered one!"

She gazed at him with large, astonished eyes into which a dreamy expression gradually crept.

"To be sure," he continued, "I have no right to complain."

"I never heard any one speak of you in that way," she declared, trying to regain her self-possession. "In fact you were never spoken of;" then, trying to improve the thoughtless expression, "at least not often. I think you are wrong in your judgment, and also in regard to the family tree. I am sure the omission is accidental."

"You are very kind, Miss Rita, you wish to console me. It doubtless seems cruel to you that a man in the full vigor of life, with energy and ambition to reach yet higher rungs on the ladder of success, should be summarily hewn from the parent stem. If I were superst.i.tious, I should fear for my life, for my future. Fortunately I am not, or rather I may be superst.i.tious in believing that side by side with the ill omen there is a good one, in the shape of a friendly young lady; and if she will graciously accept me as a cousin, then the sinister mark on the pedigree will be cancelled. You surely have not forgotten the stories of the bad and the good fairies, because it cannot be so long ago since you were devoted to them. You remember? In compensation for the evil charms of the one, they gave the poor victim the blessings of the other for protection. And I should like to regard you as my good fairy."

There was something very winning, very lovable in his manner and his words, and she answered simply: "You will not need such protection, Dr.

Weilen."

"Please, say 'cousin.'"

There was a moment of hesitation, then she said: "You will not need such protection, cousin."

"But I may surely count upon you, should I happen to need it?"

"You certainly may."

Then they returned to the tea-table, Rita somewhat embarra.s.sed, he in high, good humor. "The family tree is exceedingly interesting, Mr.

Benas," he said. "You will permit me, I hope, to study it in all its details. Even a cursory glance impressed me tremendously. At the very root, generations back, where there are names testifying to a strong and hardy stock, is the father of Rabbi Eliezer, Rabbi Akiba, a luminary in Talmudic lore, a great man even in those days. Then again, among his children, one excelled in strong individuality and great knowledge, Rabbi Eliezer, and from him and his descendants a numerous progeny, among whom again Leopold Friedlander stands out conspicuous; and so the family tree continues to spread its limbs, luxuriant in leaf and blossom."

Rita hung on his words; she was nervous, fearing a reference to the broken branch. But he said nothing, only fixed his glance on her meaningly. She drew a long breath of relief.

"It was, indeed, a pleasure to me to see the work executed," Mr. Benas remarked, "and my wife received it with great enthusiasm."

"I should suppose so."

They felt their guest was sincere in all he said, and yet they could not rid themselves of a feeling of estrangement. He had introduced himself to them in so peculiar a manner. This equivocal position of close kins.h.i.+p and complete alienation produced a certain constraint, which despite the polished ease and courtesy of the man of the world could not be overcome. And all the time each one asked himself the true purpose of his visit.

As if conscious of the unspoken question, he said: "As is natural when members of the same family meet each other for the first time, we quickly dropped into the discussion of common interests; and in pa.s.sing from one subject to another, I have not reached the point of telling you what induced me to visit you."

He reflected a moment as if searching for the proper phrase.

"When I read the notice of the anniversary celebration of Leopold Friedlander, I was suddenly overcome with the wish to take part in it.

The wish came like a secret longing for--for my home! My boyhood came back to me. I saw my uncle before me as I had seen him then. The years of estrangement disappeared from my mental vision; I heard his tender, hesitating voice again, I felt his hand upon my head, extended in blessing; and I became conscious of the words of the benediction spoken in the language of the race. All that had happened between, I seemed to have forgotten; and it took an appreciable time before I was recalled to myself. But the wish once aroused in me was not to be eradicated, and, ever since, my thoughts have dwelt upon the possibility of its fulfilment."

A peculiar tensity of feeling came over the small circle. They followed his words with growing astonishment; and neither he nor the others thought of throwing off the mood his words had inspired.

"It was quite clear to me that without some preliminary ceremony I dare not intrude upon the family group gathered about him on this anniversary day. According to the traditions of our family, I had forfeited the right; and yet I hoped I might find some appreciation of my position among the younger generation and the intercession I need. I had often heard of your family, Mr. Benas, and I saw your name at the head of the lists of all charitable and public enterprises; and although I was surprised never to meet you and your family on occasions at which common interests might have thrown us together in certain social circles, to which you really belong...."

"Of late years we have withdrawn from all intercourse, except with our own family, and a few intimate friends," interrupted Mrs. Benas.

"But your position involves certain social obligations."

"Nowadays one hardly notices it, perhaps does not care to notice it, if these obligations are not fulfilled," Mr. Benas rejoined with a slightly ironical, slightly pained expression. "Formerly ours were the most successful, the most elegant, and the most entertaining functions. My wife had a gift for entertaining; and it was always a pleasure for us to welcome happy, clever, representative, gay people. Now we confine ourselves to a few formal and official dinners, made necessary by my connection with the leading financial circles."

"We have become used to it, and do not miss anything," added Mrs. Benas.

"The s.p.a.cious rooms which formerly resounded with merry society are now quiet. But a more intimate, a more sincere life has taken its place.

Personally I should not feel the difference; but at times I am sorry that our daughter is not able to enjoy the stimulus and the attractions of such social gatherings. In the old days she had not yet made her _debut_."

"But, mother, I have often told you that I have no longings in that direction. Your goodness to me enriches my life sufficiently. Whatever is beautiful, great, important, I enjoy."