One of Ours
Book I: On Lovely Creek
Chapter X
The Erlich family loved anniversaries, birthdays, occasions. That spring Mrs.
Erlich's first cousin, Wilhelmina Schroeder-Schatz, who sang with the Chicago
Opera Company, came to Lincoln as soloist for the May Festival. As the date of
her engagement approached, her relatives began planning to entertain her. The
Matinee Musical was to give a formal reception for the singer, so the Erlichs
decided upon a dinner. Each member of the family invited one guest, and they had
great difficulty in deciding which of their friends would be most appreciative
of the honour. There were to be more men than women, because Mrs. Erlich
remembered that cousin Wilhelmina had never been partial to the society of her
own sex.
One evening when her sons were revising their list, Mrs. Erlich reminded them
that she had not as yet named her guest. "For me," she said with decision, "you
may put down Claude Wheeler."
This announcement was met with groans and laughter.
"You don't mean it, Mother," the oldest son protested. "Poor old Claude
wouldn't know what it was all about,—and one stick can spoil a dinner party."
Mrs. Erlich shook her finger at him with conviction. "You will see; your
cousin Wilhelmina will be more interested in that boy than in any of the
others!"
Julius thought if she were not too strongly opposed she might still yield her
point. "For one thing, Mother, Claude hasn't any dinner clothes," he murmured.
She nodded to him. "That has been attended to, Herr Julius. He is having some
made. When I sounded him, he told me he could easily afford it."
The boys said if things had gone as far as that, they supposed they would
have to make the best of it, and the eldest wrote down "Claude Wheeler" with a
flourish.
If the Erlich boys were apprehensive, their anxiety was nothing to Claude's.
He was to take Mrs. Erlich to Madame Schroeder-Schatz's recital, and on the
evening of the concert, when he appeared at the door, the boys dragged him in to
look him over. Otto turned on all the lights, and Mrs. Erlich, in her new black
lace over white satin, fluttered into the parlour to see what figure her escort
cut.
Claude pulled off his overcoat as he was bid, arid presented himself in the
sooty blackness of fresh broadcloth. Mrs. Erlich's eyes swept his long black
legs, his smooth shoulders, and lastly his square red head, affectionately
inclined toward her. She laughed and clapped her hands.
"Now all the girls will turn round in their seats to look, and wonder where I
got him!"
Claude began to bestow her belongings in his overcoat pockets; opera glasses
in one, fan in another. She put a lorgnette into her little bag, along with her
powder-box, handkerchief and smelling salts,—there was even a little silver box
of peppermint drops, in case she might begin to cough. She drew on her long
gloves, arranged a lace scarf over her hair, and at last was ready to have the
evening cloak which Claude held wound about her. When she reached up and took
his arm, bowing to her sons, they laughed and liked Claude better. His steady,
protecting air was a frame for the gay little picture she made.
The dinner party came off the next evening. The guest of honour, Madame
Wilhelmina Schroeder-Schatz, was some years younger than her cousin, Augusta
Erlich. She was short, stalwart, with an enormous chest, a fine head, and a
commanding presence. Her great contralto voice, which she used without much
discretion, was a really superb organ and gave people a pleasure as substantial
as food and drink. At dinner she sat on the right of the oldest son. Claude,
beside Mrs. Erlich at the other end of the table, watched attentively the lady
attired in green velvet and blazing rhinestones.
After dinner, as Madame Schroeder-Schatz swept out of the dining room, she
dropped her cousin's arm and stopped before Claude, who stood at attention
behind his chair.
"If Cousin Augusta can spare you, we must have a little talk together. We
have been very far separated," she said.
She led Claude to one of the window seats in the living-room, at once
complained of a draft, and sent him to hunt for her green scarf. He brought it
and carefully put it about her shoulders; but after a few moments, she threw it
off with a slightly annoyed air, as if she had never wanted it. Claude with
solicitude reminded her about the draft.
"Draft?" she said lifting her chin, "there is no draft here."
She asked Claude where he lived, how much land his father owned, what crops
they raised, and about their poultry and dairy. When she was a child she had
lived on a farm in Bavaria, and she seemed to know a good deal about farming and
live-stock. She was disapproving when Claude told her they rented half their
land to other farmers. "If I were a young man, I would begin to acquire land,
and I would not stop until I had a whole county," she declared. She said that
when she met new people, she liked to find out the way they made their living;
her own way was a hard one.
Later in the evening Madame Schroeder-Schatz graciously consented to sing for
her cousins. When she sat down to the piano, she beckoned Claude and asked him
to turn for her. He shook his head, smiling ruefully.
"I'm sorry I'm so stupid, but I don't know one note from another."
She tapped his sleeve. "Well, never mind. I may want the piano moved yet; you
could do that for me, eh?"
When Madame Schroeder-Schatz was in Mrs. Erlich's bedroom, powdering her nose
before she put on her wraps, she remarked, "What a pity, Augusta, that you have
not a daughter now, to marry to Claude Melnotte. He would make you a perfect
son-in-law."
"Ah, if I only had!" sighed Mrs. Erlich.
"Or," continued Madame Schroeder-Schatz, energetically pulling on her large
carriage shoes, "if you were but a few years younger, it might not yet be too
late. Oh, don't be a fool, Augusta! Such things have happened, and will happen
again. However, better a widow than to be tied to a sick man—like a stone about
my neck! What a husband to go home to! and I a woman in full vigour. Jas ist ein
Kreuz ich trage!" She smote her bosom, on the left side.
Having put on first a velvet coat, then a fur mantle, Madame SchroederSchatz
moved like a galleon out into the living room and kissed all her cousins, and
Claude Wheeler, good-night.