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SALT OF THE EARTH
 

 

 

SALT OF THE EARTH

BY

MRS. ALFRED SIDGWICK

 

NEW YORK

GROSSET & DUNLAP
PUBLISHERS

 

 

 

 

 
CoryriGut, 1917, BY
W. J. WATT & COMPANY
SALT OF THE EARTH
SALT OF THE EARTH

I

N 1870, when Germany went to war with France,
Gustav Miiller was in China. He was a youth of
twenty at the time and the only son of his mother,

who was a widow. He did. not go back to Germany
to fight for his country, but stayed on in China achiev-
ing prosperity. He became a partner in his firm,
and at the age of forty returned to Europe. By this
time he had married a lady who, like himself, was
German by birth, but who had lived with her parents
in China and mainly amongst English people since
she was a child. She had one brother, but he had
been educated in Germany and had settled in Berlin:
so that his sister had not seen him since they were
children together in Hongkong.

When the Millers returned to Europe, Mrs. Miller
expressed a wish to visit her brother, who was now
a married man with several children older than her
own. So they went to Berlin for a short time, and
afterwards to Heidelberg, where Mr. Miiller’s grand-
mother and mother were still living in an old-fashioned
house with a garden full of fruit trees. Their three
children were with them, and for years to come talked
of Heidelberg and the fruit trees which the old ladies
would shake for them till golden plums and ripe pears
came tumbling down upon the grass. Heidelberg
became a garden of the Hesperides to these little folk
while they were still small, and they often asked to
2 SALT OF THE EARTH

return there. But they never did. When Mr. Miiller
went to Germany on business he visited his old home;
and when he took his children away in August they
went to English seaside places—usually to Cromer
or Scarborough.

The Millers had taken a house with a good-sized
garden in the Avenue Road in St. John’s Wood, fur-
nished it comfortably and settled down there to a quiet
family life. Mr. Miller had a long day’s work six
times a week in the City and enjoyed a peaceful Sunday
at home. Mrs. Miller was busy and happy with her
house and her children. They had friends and acquaint-
ances, but while the children were young they did
not go out or entertain much. Two boys and a girl
had come from China with them, and they had been
christened Sigismund, Joachim and Thekla. In 1891
another girl arrived and they called her Brenda.

“T want an English name this time,” said Mrs.
Miller. “I am sorry our other children are called
Sigismund, Joachim and Thekla.”

“Why are you sorry?” ..

“Tt sounds foreign.”

“Not to us, and they are our children.”

“But they will grow up in England and no one
English can say the names. Nanna calls the boys
Mundy and Jem.”

“I want my children to remember that they have

German blood in their veins,” said Mr. Miiller.
' Mrs. Miller did not argue the point with her hus-
band because at that time it did not interest her
much, Although she had been born in Germany she
had not lived there since she was three, and when she
had stayed in Berlin two years ago her heart had not
warmed to her country. The Germany she found
there was so unlike the Germany of her father’s and
even of her husband’s reminiscences that she felt
chilled and disappointed. She supposed that they
must be what they so insistently proclaimed them-
SALT OF THE EARTH 3

selves, the most civilized and the most formidable
Power in the world; but after an intimate fortnight
in her brother Wilhelm’s house she was thankful that
she did not have to live amongst them.

As the years went on Mr. Miiller’s prosperity estab-
lished itself firmly, and he was able to give his children
the best education to be had in his adopted country.
He grumbled a little at the expense of it, and some-
times pointed out that the boys would have learned
more in the Fatherland and cost less; but the day
came when the thought of Mundy and Jem in the
Fatherland was absurd. They were fine upstanding
boys who forgot at Rugby the little German they had
learned at home, were inclined to call themselves
Muller without any modifying dots, did well at games,
and when the time came to choose a career looked
with longing eyes at the Army. Mr. Miiller only half
liked the idea for Mundy and would not hear of it for

em.

“If ever there is war between Germany and Eng-
land, my son will be fighting against his father’s coun-
try,” he objected.
~ “Rather! I’m English,” said Mundy, and passed
high into Woolwich that same year; for he had brains
and worked hard. Jem, much against the grain in
the beginning, went into business, first with friends of
his father, then to China, then back to London in his
father’s firm. In 1910, at the age of twenty-six,
‘he was still unmarried and living at home. Mundy
had a billet in Egypt and Thekla had married a Major
Wilmot and lived at Aldershot. Brenda had left
school a year ago and was working at music. That
is to say, she had piano and singing lessons, went to
concerts assiduously and practiced two hours a day.
Otherwise she led the ordinary life of a grown-up girl
in a well-to-do rather old-fashioned home. She had
not taken to philanthropy, and though she read the
modern drama and saw it when she could, she was not
4 ' SALT OF THE EARTH

in revolt against her surroundings. On the contrary,
she was extremely happy at home and took a keen
interest in the garden.

Brenda was the only one of her father’s children
who took any interest in her father’s country or recog-
nized any link with it. Perhaps one reason was that
she had never seen the enchanted garden, but only
heard of it and longed to see it. Then her father
loved Heidelberg and had kindled in his youngest child
some reflection of his own feelings. When he spoke
of the ancient town dominated by the ruined castle
and sheltered by vine-clad hills, when he left Heidelberg
and carried her in fancy to the Rhine, the sacred river
which guards and adorns the Fatherland, when he
told her stories of the forest, stories of Christmas,
stories of cold, brilliant winters in little old-world
towns, she looked at the dusty London streets and
asked him why he did not go back to the land of his
birth. Sometimes he answered evasively, sometimes
he talked of his wife and his children, once he pointed
out that more than half his life had been passed
amongst the English and that he actually felt more
at home amongst them than amongst his own country
people.

“But I tell you what we will do,” he said. “In
June, when your mother is with Thekla, you and I
will have a little holiday and go to Heidelberg and the
Rhine. It is not right that my mother and grand-
mother should know none of my children. They
reproach me whenever I see them and I have no reply.”

“There must be a reply though,” urged Brenda.
“Why do they never come here? Why do we never
go to Germany ?”

“My grandmother is much too old to travel. She
is nearly ninety. My mother would not leave her.
We ought to visit them, and this spring we will do
so.”

That had happened a year ago, when Brenda was
SALT OF THE EARTH 5

eighteen and Thekla was expecting her second child.
Mr. Miiller and his youngest daughter had started
directly they were sure all was well with Thekla, and
had a delightful month at Heidelberg and on the
Rhine. Brenda had been presented to her grand-
mother and her great-grandmother, and had dazzled
them by her clothes, her beauty, her manners, her
amiable temper and her knowledge of German. Never
in her life had she been so much a thing to wonder at,
never had she been so adored. The garden of the
Hesperides turned into a small overgrown plot over-
looked by other houses and neglected; and in June
there were no golden plums for the old ladies to shake
down for her. But though the garden was a disappoint-
ment the beauty of Heidelberg was not, and she came
away vowing she would return next year to see the
castle again by moonlight and to have coffee every
afternoon with grandmamma and great-grandmamma.
They went back by way of the Rhine, and Brenda
arrived in London with her inward eye full of just such
pictures as she had expected to find. She had seen
the river that Germans love as Britons love the sea,
she had wandered about old towns with narrow cobble-
stoned streets and gabled houses, she had bought bits
of blue and gray pottery in market places, she had
talked with peasants, she had heard melodious little
operas never heard in England and she had walked to.
the theater by daylight in a high-necked gown. She
‘had sat in public gardens listening to a band and
watching her father and every one else drink enormous
mugs of beer. She had eaten Pumpernickel and
many varieties of sausage and mountains of asparagus;
she had seen Plumeaux and rooms with polished floors
and no carpets. She had gathered lilies of the valley,
looked at the Rhine from ruined castles and listened to
Volkslieder sung on Sundays by prosperous-looking
country-folk. She had indignantly watched women
_ do field work no women do in England, and she had
6 SALT OF THE EARTH

filled a sketch book with her impressions of abnormally
stout elderly males, little girls with pigtails and little
boys with shaved heads. But as a matter of fact
she had not got to know much about modern Germany.
She had only seen the outside of life there, and into
the inner life she had woven poetry and a quaint
simplicity. So when any one spoke in her presence
of a new Germany, efficient, material and dangerously
aggressive, she turned to one of her dream picturec
in which a stork’s nest and a church tower looked
along the sleepy years at troops of little fair-haired
children playing, learning, working, living and dying
in the fear of God.

Then, disturbing her dreams, in the year following
her visit to the Rhine came her uncle Wilhelm Erdmann
and his son Lothar, who was an officer in the German
army.

Mrs. Miller had not seen her brother for nearly
twenty years, but the prospect of his visit seemed to
oppress rather than delight her. Before he arrived
Brenda could not understand that.

“If I had not seen Mundy or Jem for twenty years,
I should be wild with joy at meeting them again,”
she said. “What is twenty years between brothers
arid sisters?”

“Your uncle and I have been separated all our
lives,” said Mrs. Miller. ‘When I was a child in
China he was at school in Berlin. Besides, I am very

glad to entertain your uncle and cousin. When you ,

are fifty-two you don’t go wild over anything. You '

take life calmly.”

“I hope my uncle won’t be like his photograph,”
said Brenda. :

“You can hardly expect him to be very unlike,”
Mrs. Miller pointed out with her usual common sense.
“What is wrong with it?”

From Brenda’s point of view a good deal was wrong
with it, but she could not enlarge on this theme to
SALT OF THE EARTH 7

her mother. The portraits of Herr Erdmann had
small piggy eyes, whiskers, heavy features, a corpulent
body and badly cut clothes. Nevertheless, as Brenda
dressed for dinner on the night of their arrival, her
incurable romantic fancy painted him in agreeable
colors that the first moment of reality brushed away.
As she came down the stairs she saw her father in
the hall and with him two men in odd-looking checked
ulsters, both tall and’ powerfully made, one old, one
young, one stout, one rather lean and bony. A large
trunk and some smaller packages encumbered the hall.
‘As Brenda approached her mother came out of the
drawing-room and greeted her guests cordially. She
introduced her daughter to them, there was a moment
of greeting and then both gentlemen were seen to be
out of humor.

“A trunk has been lost,” said Herr Erdmann.

“My trunk has been lost,” said Lothar.

“T saw it at Dover. The confusion at Dover is
scandalous.”

“With us such things cannot happen.”

“Why can’t they happen with you?” said Brenda,
following the men into the drawing-room. She was
a little surprised that they should march in before
her, but she wished so much to like them that she
decided such trifles did not matter and must not
count.

“We have system,” said her uncle.

“We have order,” said her cousin.

“Are you going toa ball on the night of our arrival : ”
said Herr Erdmann, glaring at Brenda’s white gown
which showed her pretty neck and arms.

“I’m not going anywhere,” said Brenda. “Won't
you sit down.”

“Of course I shall sit down when I am tired of
standing. What has become of your father and
mother? Why are they not listening to what I have
to say about my son’s trunk?”
8 SALT OF THE EARTH

“They are sending Bailey back to Charing Cross
for it,” said Brenda, and at that moment Mrs. Miller
came into the room to ask Lothar for the key.

“Tf I could not find it, your chauffeur will not find
it either,” said Herr Erdmann when his sister had
gone again.

“You never know what Bailey will do or not do,”
said Brenda. “He is a man of resource.’

“What is resource?’ asked Herr Erdmann.
“Always you English talk of resource. Is it a sub-
stitute for the system you have not? J am glad we
Germans do not depend on resource. I prefer to see
my trunks at the end of the journey.”

Father and son had hardly been ten minutes in
the house, but Brenda had made up her mind about
the older man already. He was a beast: a ponderous,
sour-tempered beast without the least resemblance
to her mother. Cousin Lothar was not so easy to
catalogue. In a uniform he probably looked well.
He held himself like a ramrod and had a conquering
air that if it had been amiable might have been seduc-
tive. But his eyes were chilly and his voice and inton-
ation like nothing she had ever heard. When he
spoke German his gutturals had the effect of a snarl,
shrill and arrogant. His English was mediocre,
but he persisted in speaking it and got quite huffy at
dinner because Brenda had helped him out.

“T do. not wish to be helped,” he said. “I know
English perfectly and only require a little practice.
It is an unpractical language.”

“Is it?” said Brenda.

“Of course it is. You spell one way and you
pronounce another, which i is absurd.”

“T hate England,” said his father.

“But you have only been in the country a few
hours,” said Brenda.

“We know all about England, my beautiful cousin,”
said Lothar. “Some day we shal] surprise you with
f

SALT OF THE EARTH 9

our knowledge. You, I hope, are a good German.
How could you be otherwise? Was not your father
born in Heidelberg and your mother in Berlin?”

“Besides,” said his father, “we have ‘seen more
muddle and mismanagement since we arrived than
you could find in a year with us. In Dover we could
get no food and Lothar has lost his trunk.”

“Your trunk has come, sir,” said the parlormaid,
who had been out of the room for a moment and now
returned.

“Impossible!” cried Lothar.

“Your fool of a man has probably brought the
wrong one,” said Herr Erdmann to his sister in
German, but he got up heavily and waddled into the
hall. When he came back he spoke to his son.

“Tt is your trunk,” he said.

“T am glad it has been found,” said Mrs. Miller.

“It should never have been lost,”’ said her brother.

Mr. Miller was more silent than usual in the presence
of his wife’s relations; but Brenda, whose affection for
her father taught her to interpret every variation of
his mood, knew that he felt as much out of sympathy
with them as she herself did. He was the most lovable
of men, patient, shrewd, honorable, generous and
kindly in his dealings. He had good hazel eyes that
Brenda had inherited from him—eyes that were dreamy
at times, but could flash with humor and when aroused,
-with anger. He was a tall, thin man with silvery
hair and a quiet courteous manner: never asserting
himself loudly, never quarreling. Neither he nor
his wife had bred their children in an atmosphere of
national prejudice. They had spoken naturally of
their German origin, not considering it a drawback
nor a reason for self-adulation. The arrogance dis-
played by the Erdmanns was a new manifestation in
that house and a jarring note.

“How they harp on England,” Brenda said to her
mother. who went into her daughter’s room for a
10 SALT OF THE EARTH

moment at bedtime to make some arrangement for
next day. “If they think so ill of us, why do they
talk of us so much?”

“They say we are envious of them.”

Brenda laughed.

“What have they got that we want? Not manners,
anyway.”

Mrs. Miiller looked at her daughter, and could not
help laughing, too, because Brenda began to gobble
and guzzle as her uncle had done at table; and then
cried in a snarling falsetto—

“In Germany when we eat we let you know it.
We are not hypocrites.”

“But it is not manners to mimic a guest,” said Mrs.
Miiller.

“How long are they going to stay?”

“Some time. Lothar wants to visit Chatham and
Portsmouth and Aldershot.”

“What for?”

“T suppose stich places interest him as he is in the
army.”

“He'll only say everything is in a muddle. I
should show him the Albert Memorial. That’s tidy.”

“T shall be glad when Jem comes back from Paris,”
said Mrs. Miiller. ‘“He is always such a help.”
II

EM, who was away on business, put off his return
for a week. Mr. Miller was in the City all day and
Mrs. Miiller devoted herself to her brother, who was

exacting and indefatigable. It fell to Brenda to enter-
tain her cousin, and he usually wanted to do something
his father had done already or did not want todo. He
liked to have Brenda with him on his expeditions, and
she liked going because he took her to places she had
never seen before. She said soon that though she had
lived in London all her life she had not known it till
now, and every day she brought back glowing accounts
of the journeys she had made in Lothar’s company, of
the odd unexpected questions he asked and of his
interest in things she had never observed.

“He has filled a little book with plans and figures,”
she said one night at dinner. ‘He says he can’t draw
and he is bored in picture galleries, but he can make the
neatest little maps I ever saw. Sometimes he makes
them from memory, and we go back next day to prove
them. I am going to help him if I can.”

There was a moment of tense silence that Brenda
felt but did not understand. She saw Lothar’s face,
masked and non-committal, she saw her father look
up uneasily and then resume his dinner. In 1910 a
good Liberal like Mr. Miller had no fear of Germany.
Was not his Germany that land of vineyards and
romance quite lately seen through tourist spectacles
and always remembered through a nursery haze?

“Map-making is a bad habit,” said Lothar. “I

II
12 SALT OF THE EARTH

contracted it at school. Wherever I go I make little
maps. I have excellent ones of Thuringen.”

He certainly was original and intelligent, Brenda
confided to her mother after dinner. He would go
back to Germany without having seen the Albert
Memorial, but he would know many things the ordinary
Londoner did not know. He had odd fancies too.
He wanted to look at London after dark from the
heights. ‘

“There are no heights,” said Mrs. Miller.

But Brenda, instructed by her cousin, knew better.
There were various points from which the view of
London was most interesting, and one night when there
‘was no moon he took her with him and showed her the
winding river with lights on it, the moving traing and
the dome of St. Paul’s that was the landmark by whiclt
he found other public buildings. The great city spread
as far as they could see, twinkling its lights through the
smoke hanging over it like a veil that covered but did
not obscure. They stayed a long time making out how
far the City looked from Westminster, and the northern
from the southern suburbs when you were guided by
the river and the varying brilliance of the lights.

“Now he wants to visit our flying grounds at
Hendon and Aldershot,” said Brenda next day. “He
would like to fly himself, but Uncle Wilhelm is against
it. I suppose we can ask ourselves to Aldershot for a
day. Thekla would give us lunch and Jack would
show us round.”

Mrs. Miiller saw no objection, and the visit was
arranged. The only person who felt uneasy was Uncle
Wilhelm, who could not see his son and niece going
about by themselves in this way. without commenting
on the laxity of English manners and presumably of
English morals.

“Fortunately my son is an honorable man,” he said
to his sister. “Either he will show Brenda that he has
no intentions or he will ask her in marriage. But I

~
SALT OF THE EARTH 13

disapprove of marriage between cousins and still more
of international marriages. I hope Lothar will marry
_a German girl.”

“So do I,” said Mrs. Miiller with spirit. “I
should not like such a marriage at all, but I am not in
the least afraid of it.”

“And pray why would you not like it?” said Herr
Erdmann, bridling. “Lothar is a brilliant match,
I can tell you. He has money, he is a first-rate officer
and well received in high military circles, and no one
can say that he is not a schneidiger Kerl.”

“I am sure he is,” said Mrs. Miiller, ‘but I agree
with you about the reasons against such a marriage,
and if I thought there was the least danger I should
send Brenda to Aldershot for a week.”

“Brenda is not ugly,” said Herr Erdmann. “If
she filled out a littl——”

“In England Brenda is very much admired,” said
Mrs. Miiller. |

“So is my Elsa in Germany,” said Herr Erdmann.
“She is at least twice Brenda’s size. She will make
a very powerful woman. Mina is small and thin,
but she married when she was seventeen and has an
arduous life.”

“T hope to keep Brenda at home for years and
years,’ said Mrs. Miller. “I should not break my

_ heart if she refused to marry at all.”

“That I call selfish,” said her brother. ‘The lot
of an old maid is a miserable one. She has nothing to _
do and every one despises her.” *

“It may be so in Germany,” began Mrs. Miiller,
but her brother did not allow her to finish,

“Tt is so all over the world,” he said. “What I
say is true.”

As Brenda was only nineteen she had not had a:
wide experience of wooers yet, but she certainly
began to perceive about the time of the visit to Alder-
shot that Lothar’s first formal gallantry of manner
14 SALT OF THE EARTH

was rapidly changing to one more intimate and pos-
sessive. He seemed to resent the presence of strangers
in the railway carriage, his chilly eye had a gleam of
admiration in it as it rested on her and he often tried
to find out her ideas of Germany and the Germans;
but all that she loved in Germany he laughed at, denied
or condemned.

“Stork’s nests are insanitary,” he pronounced.
“The police should deal with them. Yes. There
are many in the north, too, but there is nothing inter-
esting in them. I could make one myself with straw
and twigs.”

“T never read poetry,” he continued. “I had to
at school but now I’ve other things to do. A nation
that is pursuing a great Welt Politik leaves poetry to
women and children.”

“But women and children are part of a nation.”

“They cannot draw the sword as we shall do when
the time is ripe. Women and children have to accept
the lot men make for them. In these days if I were a
woman I would marry a German. One short sharp
struggle and—the world is in our hands.”

At nineteen, as a rule, a girl takes little interest in
politics and certainly forms no judgment of her own.
_Brenda believed what her father did. He hoped for
an Anglo-German understanding and called the people
who talked of the German menace scaremongers.
He knew nothing of modern Germany except what he
could glean from trade statistics and these revealed
her growing commercial importance but not her
threatening temper. When he went to Germany he
dealt with customers who were extremely polite to
him, and if he came across newspapers that abused
England he said printers’ ink was cheap and did not
matter. -He had hardly heard of Treitschke and
Bernhardi and would have laughed if you had told
him that the downfall of England was a settled policy
with all Germans of Lothar’s type and with those
SALT OF THE EARTH 15

leaders who could at any moment set Europe on fire.

“When your father left China he should have come
to Berlin,” Lothar said now, as if in sequence to what
he had said before.

“Why pe

“In that case you would have been German. Now
you call yourself German, but in reality you are
English.”

“I don’t call myself German,” said Brenda. She
said it laughingly, but her cousin did not respond.
He had a scowl on his face as he helped her out of the
train, and was unpleasantly domineering and argu-
mentative at lunch.

“IT think he’s horrid,” said Thekla to her sister
when they were in the nursery together adoring the
babies. “He was quite rude to Jack about the size of
our army.” -

“Do you call him ugly or handsome?”

“Ugly. Don’t you?”

“T’m not sure. He’s big and well set-up.”

“He squints.”

“Oh! No, Thekla, he doesn’t. I’ve looked at him
often to make sure.’

“I do hope he is not going to marry you and take
you to Germany.”

“T’ve not the least intention of marrying him.”

“He wouldn’t ask you. He’d knock you down
with a club and carry you off.”

Brenda laughed, but on her way back thought of
what her sister said with a thrill inexplicably com-
pounded of attraction and dislike. Lothar did not
propose to her. That would have eased the situation,
for she would have refused him point blank. But he
gave her no chance. His manner was both restrained
and admiring: the manner of a man whose impulse
is to speak and whose reason arrests him. He talked
of his life in Berlin, and of his mother and sisters,
who were, he said, extraordinarily efficient and attract-
a6 SALT OF THE EARTH

ive. He called his mother Mammachen, which Brenda
translated into Little Mamma, and thought sounded
silly. But she took an interest in all he told her, and
politely hoped that some day she would get to know
her cousins Elsa and Mina.

“You must get to know Berlin,” he said. “Berlin
is colossal.”

“TI like the little Rhenish towns,” said Brenda,
“and I love Heidelberg. I’m not sure that I should
care for Berlin.” ‘

“It is a much finer city than London.”

“Ts it?” '

“Of course it is. You have nothing like our Sieges-
Allee. When I get back I will send you an album of
views. The architecture of Berlin is the finest in the
world.”

By this time Brenda knew that her cousin used
speech much as his primeval ancestors must have used
clubs: not to agree with you but to knock you down.
She had observed that he could not take contradiction
peaceably from a man and did not expect it from a
‘woman.

“Did you see all you wanted at Aldershot?” she
asked.

“Not quite; but I saw enough. You are as hope-
lessly behind us in aviation as you are in everything
else.”

“Poor old England!”
“You may well say so. I am glad I do not belong
to a decaying country.”

“Did you think that Chatham and Portsmouth
were decaying?’ asked Brenda, for he had. visited
both places by himself.

“T saw a great deal that we should do differently.
Of course we know that you have ships; but we also
have them. In a few years we shall have as many as
you. We have discipline, too.”

Brenda did not argue with him. She knew nothing
SALT OF THE EARTH 17

about the comparative strength of navies or about
their discipline. She thought that what England
wanted was a few loud brass trumpets to blow in duet
with these very resonant German ones, but on second
thoughts she was glad England’s voice was the organ
one, not brazen, but self-searching and peaceful;
perhaps, compared with the trumpet, sleepy. If
England has to wake up she will, she said to herself,
but she did not say so to Lothar. When they ‘got
back to St. John’s Wood there was a taxi with luggage
at the door and Jem Miiller stood near it paying the
driver. He came forward to greet his sister and
cousin,

Brenda adored Jem, and the sight of him this even-
ing rejoiced her more than usual. Even when they
bickered they were in sympathy.

“You've been traveling in your old Burberry,”
she said to him, when he had spoken to Lothar and
they were in the hall. “I shall burn it.”

“You will not,” said Jem, giving the parlormaid
a conspicuously shabby coat to hang up for him.

“You look like a tramp.”

Lothar’s English did not carry him far enough to
tell him what Brenda meant by a tramp, but he had
decided at once that Jem’s carriage showed the want
of military training so evident everywhere in England.
Jem was a plain likeness of his attractive sister, a tall,
thin young man with hazel eyes, rather nondescript
features, a quiet manner and a slight stoop. Undis-
criminating people thought him mild, and in business
that had proved an asset. When the firm wanted a
difficult deal put through they entrusted it to the mild
young junior partner and he was usually successful.
He had just come back from Paris rather pleased
with himself, as he had secured several new customers
and effected sales that meant some solid thousands
for Miller and Neumann.

“Well! How is business?” said Uncle Wilhelm
18 SALT OF THE EARTH

to him as they gathered near the library fire for a few
minutes before going up to get ready for dinner.

“Not bad,” said Jem.

“I’m surprised to hear it. Your methods are old-
fashioned here and the hours you keep are scandalous.
I am in my office every morning at nine. My clerks
have to be there at eight. If you can no longer com-
pete with us, you have only yourselves to blame.”

“We do blame ourselves every day,” said Jem.
“You may have noticed it if you see our papers.”

“I do not see your papers. Why should I? Our
own are much better.”

Jem did not laugh or argue or grow angry. He
looked at his uncle and cousin with attention, and to
his sister’s surprise rather seriously.

“What are Pan-Germans?” she asked suddenly.

“We are Pan-Germans,” answered Lothar; but
he could not enlarge on his ideas because the gong
sounded and Mrs. Miiller shepherded them all up-
stairs. She did not think Pan-Germanism would be
a harmonious subject for discussion, and she took the
trouble to go into Brenda’s room to tell her so.

“We have no violent bias,” she said, “but they
have.”

“T suppose we have really,’ said Brenda. “I’m
for St. George and England. So is Thekla. So are
the boys.”

“They are our guests. We will keep out of inter-
national discussions if we can.”

“They. don’t discuss. They bray.”

“Have you enjoyed yourself?”

“Yes. I was glad to get back and see old Jem.
Thekla took a violent dislike to Lothar.”

“How did he get on with Jack?”

“Oh! he boasted and Jack was polite. I wish one
could teach him not to boast. People used to say that
Americans did, but I have never met any who blew
their trumpets like Germans.”
SALT OF THE EARTH 19

“They used not to be so bad,” said Mrs. Miller.
“You have never heard your father boast, and I
don’t think I do.”

“I think I shall tell Lothar that, as we all know
Germany is the greatest power in the world with a
monopoly of every virtue——”

“He doesn’t strike me as a teachable man,” said
Mrs. Miller, “and he hasn’t a spark of humor.
However, they go back to Berlin on Saturday.”

Mrs. Miiller said this with a sigh of relief as she
watched her daughter take off her outdoor clothes
and slip into a thin crépe dressing-gown. Every-
thing about the girl was dainty and charming. Her
room had been done up for her a year ago when she
left school and she had chosen an ivory white paper,
white paint and a soft blue carpet. The setting sun
threw glowing lights on the ivory tiles of the grate and
hearth. The window faced the garden and had gay
fresh chintz curtains. The easy chairs were covered
with the same chintz and there was a white silk
eiderdown on the bed.

“Tt seems such a little while since you left school
and we got these rooms ready for you,” said Mrs.
Miiller, for Brenda had a sitting-room of her own on
the same floor as this one. She guessed at what
was in her mother’s mind though she was too young
to guess at the anxious tenderness in her heart. When
her mother had gone she sat down to do her hair and
discovered that her eyes were more brilliant and yet
more dreamy than usual. What exactly these days
meant and where they would lead her she hardly knew
yet: but she supposed not to love and marriage.
The idea of one without the other was inconceivable,
and the idea of loving Lothar was grotesque. She
wondered if any one loved him and whether he had
ever wanted love? for instance from his mother.
That took her back to his childhood when he must
have been small and helpless like other children, |
20 SALT OF THE EARTH

learning to walk and to speak. What an impossible
picture of the big bony young man with eyes as hard
as flints. Perhaps at the core there was a soft spot
and the girl he wooed as his wife would find it. Brenda
knew she had not; for, inexperienced as she was, she
did not mistake the hungry admiration in his eyes
and his proprietary air for the affection that leavens
life in marriage.

“What he sees in me is skin-deep,” she said, and ran
downstairs at the sound of the second gong.

As they sat down to dinner, Mr. Miller asked his
nephew if he had seen any English aéroplanes. Herr
Erdmann inveighed against fools who thought they
could fly, Jem talked of French airmen, and Mrs.
Miller said she would like to see a Zeppelin.

“How many have you now?” she asked Lothar.

“T have not kept count,” he said.

“But you really expect to travel in them.”

“Of course we shall travel in them. We do not
build them to look at.”

His manner was always arrogant, but when he talked
of Zeppelins it became insufferable. His pride in
them and his hopes of them inflated him as gas inflates
the bags by which they move, and he rode the air in
fancy, conquering and merciless.

“Our future lies as much in the air as on the water,”
he said. “We rule the elements.”

No one contradicted him. Mr. Miiller’s shrewd quiet
face remained expressionless, Jem looked at his plate

and Mrs. Miller changed the subject by asking her :

brother where he would like to go to-morrow.

“I am going to Kew Gardens,” he said; “if there
is time I shall also visit Hampton Court.”

“Are you interested in gardens, Uncle Wilhelm?”
asked Brenda.

“Naturally I am,” he said. “Do you imagine
that it is only in England that you have gardens?
On the contrary. We grow everything much better
SALT OF THE EARTH 21

than you do. Your vegetables are miserable compared .
with ours.”

“Have you a garden?”

“How can I have a garden on a flat?”

By this time Brenda was used to her uncle’s sledge-
hammer style and she did not mind it much. But
opposite to her sat Jem, and she knew what the
unusual calm of his manner meant. It had come
over him soon after he met his relations from the Spree
and grew profounder as dinner went on.

“What will you do to-morrow, Lothar?’ said
Mrs. Miller. “Is there anything left on your pro-
gramme?”

“Had you a programme?” said Jem, looking up.

“He has been indefatigable—’ said Mrs. Miiller,
“Chatham, Portsmouth, Aldershot, and London at
night from somewhere near Blackheath. I suppose
it i$ all connected with his military work.”

“Yes,” said Lothar, “it is all in the day’s work.”

His voice was harsh and decisive; Brenda, listening
and watching Jem’s face, thought of the little maps
and sketches she had seen her cousin make. A week
ago she had spoken of them lightly, but to-night she
could not have done so, though she knew no more
of their purpose now than she knew then. Perhaps
it was Jem’s face that disturbed her. He looked.
uneasy.
Tit

HE gardens at Hampton Court were glowing
in the light of a warm September morning. The
herbaceous border was at the height of its beauty.

The wide lawns showed no signs of summer drought
and the crowds that often disturb the peace and charm
of the place were not present yet in any numbers.
Mrs. Miiller and Brenda had conducted their guests
through the picture galleries and listened politely
to Herr Erdmann’s adverse opinion of Sir Godfrey
Kneller’s beauties. They had shown him the great
vine and seen his disappointment at the size of the
grapes. They had offered to go with him into the
maze, and kept their tempers when he lost his at the
suggestion that such follies could attract him. Now
they were taking him to a seat in the shade because
he said that the sun was giving him a headache, and
that if he had known how little there was to see here
he would not have come at all.

Unfortunately they could not go on to Kew just
yet. The car needed one of those slight repairs that
a car sometimes does need at an inconvenient moment,
and Bailey had said he would be at the gates at one.

“Twelve o'clock,” said Herr Erdmann, looking
at! his massive gold watch. “A whole hour still.
Are we to sit here and twiddle our thumbs for a whole
hour, Marie? Is there nothing that we can do?”

“Would you like a walk?” said Mrs. Miiller.

“Certainly not. We shall have to walk till we drop
at Kew, I suppose.”

22
SALT OF THE EARTH 23

“You need not,” said Brenda. “If you like, you
can be wheeled about in a Bath chair.”

“I should not like,” said her uncle, glaring at her.
“Thank God I have the use of my legs still. I can
probably walk further than you.’

“Shall we take a boat a little way up the river?”
suggested Mrs. Miiller.

“TI do not want sunstroke, Marie. It would keep
me in England, and after a fortnight I must say I
cannot understand any good German feeling happy
and at home here.”

“IT am sorry,” began Mrs. Miller; but her brother
stopped her with a waggle of his large hand.

“No discussion,” he said. “Discussion makes
my head ache. Besides, I do not take any interest
in the opinion of a woman on questions of nationality.
All women are alike. Either they are on bad terms
with their men folk and range themselves on the oppo-
site side, or they believe in them blindly and echo
them like parrots. I would not have it otherwise.
A woman’s thoughts ought to be in the nursery and
the kitchen.”

Brenda felt so indignant that she walked a little
away from her elders and sat down out of hearing.
The long day still loomed ahead of her with its wrangles
and its opportunities. She knew by this time that
Lothar wanted to marry her and that his father was
sourly opposing him. She would have been abnormally
dense if she had not known it. Lothar did not hide
his light or his love under a bushel; and Uncle Wil-
helm did not hide his ill-temper. Her one desire
was to avoid a definite proposal because she did not
know her own mind. She had not long left school.
Love had never even brushed her with its wings yet,
while the idea of marriage only presented itself in
disconnected bits beginning with amusement and
adventure but leading as far as she could judge to a
cul-de-sac. She could see no way out into the life
24 SALT OF THE EARTH

upon the heights with her cousin as her daily intimate
companion, and at eighteen a girl of Brenda’s tempera-
ment means to live upon the heights. Service, self-
sacrifice, austere poverty might each or all take her
there, but not the fatted calf with a man who thinks
zour first duty is to know how to cook it.

“Would you like to live in Germany?’ Lothar
asked her.

“T wonder whether it matters much where you
live,” said Brenda. “Sometimes I think it would be
interesting to make the best of a dull place.”

“Berlin is not dull. It is far gayer and more elegant
than Paris now. London is dull. I have never seen
a duller or a dirtier city.”

“T was not thinking of Berlin. I was thinking
of far-away little lonely places in India, for instance,
where men spend their lives administering the law
and looking after bridges and roads and such things.”

“They will not be there much longer,” said Lothar,
laughing unpleasantly. “India is ripe for mutiny.
The English do nothing but bleed the natives and
swagger. They will soon be turned out. You may not
know all these things, but we do.”

Brenda at nineteen did not know much about the
British Raj in India, but she knew better than to
believe her cousin. By this time, too, she knew better
than to contradict him, unless she had the nerve for
a scene. His information about England was both
pedantic and grotesque. She had never met anything
quite so puzzling. He collected facts as industriously
as a beaver builds a dam, but he seemed incapable of
forming judgments. He could. remember names and
figures, but he could not see tendencies; and he was
so busy despising the want of system he found every~
where that he forgot to ask himself whether a pros-
perous and powerful nation is not bound to have
qualities a shrewd enemy will take care not to despise.
Germany had made up its mind that England was
SALT OF THE EARTH 25

decadent, and like Herr Erdmann shook its fist and
refused discussion. Only time could show whether
Germany was right.

“Your parents ought to have educated the chil-
dren in Germany,” Lothar said suddenly.

“That was so like him,” thought. Brenda, “to tell

"her for the second time what her parents ought to have
done with their children and to be quite sure that his
opinion was the wise one. She was glad to see their
chauffeur approaching to say that the car was ready;
a good half-hour sooner than he had promised
it.

The rest of the day was leaden. Uncle Wilhelm
made himself peculiarly disagreeable at lunch because
the food was not to his liking. He ate a great deal,
but said repeatedly that it would disagree with him,
and he described the ways in which it would disagree
with such detail that Brenda felt uncomfortable.

“Your daughter is blushing because I talk of my
stomach,” he said to his sister peevishly. “That
is English hypocrisy. She has a stomach herself, I
suppose.”

“But a blush is very becoming,” said Lothar,
fixing his monocle in his right eye and turning to his
cousin.

His father gave a grunt and ordered coffee which,
when it came, he said was not fit for pigs.

“TI am glad we are going back to-morrow,” he said

*a little later to his sister in Kew Gardens. “I would
‘not answer for Lothar if he stayed here any longer.
He has always been easily impressed.”

“It takes two to make a marriage,” said Mrs.
Miller.

“Not at all. ‘A’ girl of nineteen marries the man
who sets his mind on her. What does such a young
goose know?”

“Well . . . we need not meet trouble half way,”
said Mrs. Miller, who was finding it more and more
26 SALT OF THE EARTH

difficult to enjoy her brother’s society as much as
her regard for family ties told her she should.

Meanwhile the young people got over the ground
more quickly than the old ones, and soon found them-
selves in a quiet part of the gardens where there was
shade and an inviting seat. They had walked through
most of the glass-houses and Lothar, who was not a
gardener, said he had seen all he wanted to see.

“Kew is delightful, but very tiring,’ said Brenda.

Lothar assented vaguely and sat down beside his
cousin. She attracted him strongly, although he
disapproved of her ideas and ways. But in his opinion
any girl of nineteen was as malleable as putty and he
felt sure that if he married her he would be able to
shape her to his mind. After all, her blood, like his
own, was pure German, and in the ultimate qualities
of brain and character it is blood that tells. Her
manner and speech were English and so was her
appearance, but her appearance pleased him. He
would not wish that altered. When he thought of
the wives and sisters of his brother officers he had to
admit that none of them could compare with Brenda.
Certainly most of them were very poor.

“Do you choose your own clothes?” he asked
after one of those long silences that Brenda dreaded
because they seemed too solemn to lead to anything
but a declaration.

“Oh! Well, mother and I choose them together,”
said Brenda. “But I have an allowance now and
my own bank account.”

“How much does your father give you?”

“He gives me a hundred a year,” said Brenda
after a moment’s hesitation that would have made
most men feel embarrassed. But such delicate marks
of resentment were lost on Lothar.

“A hundred a year for a girl’s clothes! He must
be a rich man.”

“I get presents that help it out. Jem has brought
SALT OF THE EARTH 27

me two lovely evening gowns from Paris, and some
furs. He really is extravagant, but then he spends
nothing much and makes a great deal.”

“I suppose a hundred a year for clothes is not
necessary to your happiness,” said Lothar. “Perhaps:
my sister Elsa spends as much, but her husband can
afford it. I doubt whether Mina gets twenty, and she
always looks correct and pleasing.”

“How clever of her! I have not decided what
is necessary to my happiness yet. I haven’t thought
much about it.”

There was one thought in her mind about it that
she would not put into words in case it sounded prig-
gish. She looked along the years with the ardent hope
and eagerness of youth, not for happiness, but for some
chance of service. There was so much to do in the
world and she had not found out yet what she could
do best.

“T can tell you one thing that is necessary to every
woman’s happiness,” said Lothar. “If you win that,,
the rest follows.”

She did not respond as he expected. She neither
blushed nor waited shyly for him to go on; and she
looked impatient rather than enraptured.

“IT want to do a bit of the world’s work,” she said.

“There is only one bit a woman can do, but it’s
highly important.”

“There is no end to the work woman can do. Every
day new avenues are opened, new interests are born.”

“Every day boys and girls are born,” said Lothar
bluntly. ‘That is the beginning and the end for a
woman. All the rest is nonsense. The world belongs
to men.”

In his mouth such an outlook sounded dreary and
Brenda turned from it with aversion. She knew
just as much and as little about the facts of life as
other carefully bred girls of her age, and what she had
inevitably seen of her sister’s wedded bliss for years
28 SALT OF THE EARTH

past had given her a distaste for marriage. Poor
Thekla had been more or less ill and incapacitated
ever since she returned from her honeymoon; she had
given up music and she did more sewing than reading.
She adored her husband and children and was as
happy as a bird. But in Brenda’s jejune opinion
the disabilities of such an existence outweighed its
gains. At nineteen she wanted to spend herself on
mankind and not on a husband and children.

“I think we ought to go back to the others,” she
said, getting up, and her cousin saw that he had
blundered. But he did not understand how, so he
blundered again.

“Ach was!” he cried. “You English are always
shocked. One may not say that children are born
in the world then! What a country! In Germany
we are natural and honest.”

“How glad you will be to get back there,” she said.

“Of course I shall be glad. What do you mean?”

“Well! I mean that a German must be so uncom-
fortable in any country but his own, since other
countries are so inferior.”

“You ought to be as good a German asI am. Your
parents are German.”

“But their children are English.”

“I blame your parents very much for that,” said
Lothar.

“It would be better manners not to tell me so,”
answered Brenda. She thought that would check
him, but he hardly seemed to notice what she said.

“There is one way in which you could recover your
nationality at once,” he went on. “I will tell you
how.”

Some girls would have refused to see his meaning
until he had expressed it still more plainly, but Brenda
wanted to stave off a definite proposal. She had
not made up her mind to accept him, and the thought
of denying him outright filled her with actual terror.
SALT OF THE EARTH 29

He was so big and determined and self confident that
she could imagine herself saying “Yes” when she
wished to say “Nay”; which in theory was absurd.
But theories are apt to fail you in moments of emer-
gency and Brenda knew that her mother’s presence
would be a greater support to her than her own inward
conviction that she could do as she chose. He would
batter down her defenses if she stayed here much °
longer, twist something she said his own way, kiss her
possibly and declare themselves betrothed.

“We really must go back,” she said. “I know
mother is tired. We said we would leave at four.”

“You do not wish to listen to me?”

“We should not agree.”

Whether he would have said more Brenda never
knew, for as she spoke her mother and Uncle Wilhelm
appeared. There was no further chance of intimate
conversation just then, and she determined not to
give Lothar another opportunity if she could help it.
She had heard that a proposal of marriage was rather
agreeable and thrilling, but she did not think this
one would have been. An irrelevant foolish corner
of her mind produced a memory of a big alligator
at the Zoo that snapped is jaws when the keeper
stirred it up with a stick. She felt sure that
Lothar’s mind was not pursuing fanciful images.
He looked thunderously out of humor and his father
noticed it. :

“What is the matter?” he asked tactfully. “You
seem upset. Has that tough steak given you indiges-
tion or is it the hot sun? I had no idea that the sun
could be so hot in England.”

“Nothing is the matter and nothing has upset
me,” said Lothar with emphasis. “I am not easily
upset. A man must be strong or he is not a man at
all.”

“My dear child, what had happened?” said Mrs.
Miller, going into Brenda’s room when the girl was
30 SALT OF THE EARTH

dressing for dinner. “I can stand one bear, but two
. snarling at each other all the way home... .”

“Nothing happened,” said Brenda. “He said he
would tell me how I might become a German, and I
said I was English. That seemed to annoy him.
Then you came. .. thanks be!”

“T’m glad nothing ‘has happened,” said Mrs Miller.
“I want to keep you at home a little longer, and if
you do leave us I want you to go where you are wel-
come. My brother disapproves of marriage between
cousins, and so do I.”

“T thought he looked more like green rhubarb than
usual,” said Brenda. “It would not attract me to
have him for a father-in-law.”

Mrs. Miller tried to show disapproval but could not
manage it and went away smiling to herself. She
felt greatly relieved. At dinner the presence of Mr.
Miller and Jem did something, but not much, to lighten
an atmosphere that had become strained. The two
guests were plainly at odds with the universe and con-
trived to find offense in every topic. Uncle Wilhelm
asked Jem why he never came to Berlin to visit his
mother’s family, and when Jem answered civilly that
he hoped to do so some day the old gentleman said
he did not like to be made fun of by the younger gen-
eration and that he was sure Jem did not mean what
he said.

“It is twenty years since any of you have been to
Berlin,” he said. “That does not show much family
affection.”

“We are always very busy,” began Mrs. Miiller,
mistakenly.

“Busy!” roared Herr Erdmann. “How can you
be busy? Every one in England is idle. The men
work four days from ten till five, and then they take
the week-end for golf and tennis. The women do
nothing at all. I have seen it in your house. I have
been here a fortnight and I have not once found you
SALT OF THE EARTH at

or Brenda usefully employed. That is not the way
my daughters have been brought up.”

“Brenda and I were in Heidelberg this spring,”
said Mr. Miiller, hoping to effect a diversion.

“Heidelberg is nix! If you want to know modern
Germany you must come to Berlin. We have every-
thing finer and better and larger than in London or
Paris. We have architecture, statuary, museums,
villas, drama, music, all in the highest taste.”

“Any harbors like Portsmouth?’ said Jem,
who happened to know a good deal of geography
and could have drawn a map of the Gertnan Empire
with every little principality in the right place and the
right size and shape.

' “What do you mean?” shouted the old man, while
his son shot a swift suspicious glance at Jem and then
scowled at his plate. ‘Take an atlas and find Berlin
if you can. You are not taught geography in your
schools, I know. You learn nothing at all. A German
navvy is better educated than an English gentle-
man.” .

“But, Wilhelm, how many English gentlemen do
you know?” said Mrs. Miiller, who seemed to be the
only person at all inclined to wrestle with her brother.

“Quite as many as I wish,” said Herr Erdmann,
and changed the subject by refusing bread-sauce with
his partridge and observing that such a mixture was
only fit for an infant or a poultice.

“The proper thing to eat with partridge is Sauer-
kraut,” he declared.

“I like bread-sauce,” said Brenda, taking some.

“Your palate is on a level with your brother’s
geographical knowledge, both beneath criticism. I
speak plainly, and I see by the face you are making

‘that you do not agree with me. When my daughters
made faces, I boxed their ears.’

“Don’t be so excited, papa,” admonished Lothar.
“Brenda only said she liked bread-sauce.”
32 SALT OF THE EARTH

“Ach was!’ said the terrible old man and helped
himself largely to chip potatoes.

“Why did you say that about Portsmouth?”
Brenda asked Jem later in the evening.

“Why did he nose around there?’ asked her brother.
“What is he doing in England?”

“T. thought he came to see us.”

“Ach was!” said Jem.
IV.

WO years came and went without bringing any
great external change to Brenda’s life. She still
lived with her parents in St. John’s Wood, she

had not married, she had not even fallen in love. Some-
times she thought rather disconsolately that she must
be one of those celibate natures she had read about in
some modern novels and that she would never be
moved by the passion that makes the world go round.
Sometimes she thought there must be something
radically wrong with her and that possibly she was of
a warped and petty nature, for asa matter of fact she
enjoyed life without love enormously. In a thousand
‘ways she enjoyed it. The seasons came, each bringing
its own pleasures, the garden was more and more
alluring as she learned to work in it, the blackbirds
‘and thrushes sang in spring, the roses flowered in
summer, in the autumn she journeyed to enchanting
places, all through the winter she went out and about
in London as she felt inclined. She had friends,
money, music, a delightful home and the reflection in
her mirror of a face and figure that grew in charm.
Her contemplative, rather serious nature would not
have been satisfied with the pursuit of pleasure if she
could have found work to do, but so far she had not.
Philanthropy ought to have attracted her, she sup-
posed, but after a few experiments she knew that she
had no aptitude for it. Perhaps she met the wrong
philanthropists: hard, self-advertising people who
used charity as a ladder; or fussy frumpish ones who

33
B4 SALT OF THE EARTH

looked askance at Brenda’s pretty clothes. Perhaps
the clothes were frivolous and perhaps her life was self-
ish, but every hour of it was full. She read a great
deal, worked steadily at music, did little things in the
house and was the beloved companion of her father
and mother and Jem. They did not think her selfish.
They adored her and indulged her, forestalling her
wishes, getting daily pleasure from her youth and
beauty. Jem had not married yet and was her best
friend. Her other friend was Violet Lovel, and she
was coming from Cornwall with her brother Andrew
to stay with the Millers for Brenda’s birthday party.

Violet was a perfect darling. Brenda vouched for
it, and vouched for it in Jem’s hearing; for though no
girl in the whole world could by any manner of means
be good enough for Jem, he would probably marry
Some day, and it would be a tragedy if he married any
one less of a darling than Violet. Of course if he never
married and Brenda never married they would both
lead happy quiet lives together, getting old without
perceiving it and contented with a single blessedness
that seemed to Brenda to give them all they wanted
here below. She expressed these views to her mother
a day or two before her birthday, although she knew
that her mother would not agree with them.

“Tt is too soon to make plans for the future,”
said Mrs. Miller. “You are twenty-one and Jem is
twenty-eight. Your lives are not shaped yet.”

Brenda thought that it was not too soon and said
so. She did not lead a cloistered life, she argued.
She saw a great many people all the year round in
London and abroad. She saw more men than most
girls because a great many young Germans spending
a year or two in England brought an introduction to
Mr. Miller or were presented by friends, and were
hospitably received by him. On several occasions
yhe had caused a Teuton heart to flutter, but she had
never once been able to respond. She had not exactly
SALT OF THE EARTH 35

liked Lothar, but he had made a more forcible i impres-
sion on her than any of his countrymen. The typical
wealthy young German from Berlin and Hamburg
did not attract her. He was extremely well informed
and self-assertive, unfriendly towards England, both
gallant and clumsy in his manner, sometimes inclined
to be quarrelsome and, compared with Jem, for in-
stance, uncivilized.

“We are the most cultured nation in the world,”
one of them said one day, and exploded in childish
wrath because Brenda laughed.

“But how can I help laughing?’ she exclaimed,
and for the first time since she had left school nearly
giggled.

“Why should you laugh? What I say is true.”

“Tt may be,” conceded Brenda. “But if it was I
don’t believe you'd say so.”

“Why should I not say what every child with
us knows? Why should we be hypocrites because
you are?”

He evidently thought his questions unanswerable
since Brenda, still bubbling with laughter, made no
attempt to answer them; and he there and then
proved to her that in war and peace, in art and science,
in trade and agriculture the Germans licked creation.
He ended where the others ended by saying that he
offended no canons of modesty by divulging these
truths, since after all she herself was a German.

“J don’t feel like one,” she said, and thought of him
the day before her birthday when Violet Lovel arrived
with Andrew her brother. They were the kind of
people her heart went out to, she said to herself.
Their voices, their ways, their jokes, their silences
were all what she could interpret and enjoy. She
had not met Andrew Lovel before, and as he entered
the room she saw that unlike Violet he was plain.
They were both dark but his build was heavier and
his manner less vivacious. They both had agreeable
36 SALT OF THE EARTH

educated voices that gave Brenda peculiar pleasure
and they both seemed to think that the week they
were to spend with the Miillers promised unparalleled
chances of enjoyment.

“We've not been out of Cornwall since last summer,”
said Violet. ‘“We’re covered with blue mold.”

“T don’t see it,” said Brenda.

“T’ve rubbed some off already, just driving here
from Paddington in a taxi.”

“We nearly collided with a motor-bus,” said
‘Andrew. “That woke us up a bit.”

“It was heavenly,” said Violet.

Mrs. Miiller who was pouring out tea looked up in
surprise, for though she was a woman of great merit
she had a literal mind.

“If you lived where we do you'd be so glad to see
a motor-bus that you wouldn’t mind if it knocked
you down,” explained Violet.

“But I suppose it is very beautiful at Treva,” said
Brenda.

“Yes: it is,” said Andrew, and his sister knew from
his way that he was pleased and attracted. She was
glad because she wanted a gay, harmonious week,
but it never occurred to her to hatch matrimonial
plans for her brother and her friend. She had often
stayed with the Miillers, and she liked the whole
family, but she regarded them as foreigners with
some foreign ways and ideas. Brenda, for instance,
knew German nearly as well as English and read deep,
difficult German poetry that Violet could not follow
even when it was translated. Then Brenda had a
quite genuine distaste for some kinds of music that
Violet enjoyed, and it was impossible to say before-
hand which kind would rouse it. She liked rag-times
and coon songs, although she herself played ‘chiefly
Beethoven and Bach. But Violet had seen her jarred
and depressed by those sweet lyrics, “Come, listen to
the Nightingale,” and “Kiss me when I dream of
SALT OF THE EARTH 37

thee,” and even by anglicized renderings of Schumann
and Brahms,

“But they are German songs,” Violet had argued.

“Not when Miss Bulstock sings them,” Brenda
had said with a little shudder. She was fastidious
certainly, for the last time they met they had heard a
Fraulein Koch sing them and then Brenda had shud-
dered, too.

“Miss Bulstock bellowed and this one pants,” she
said. “Can’t you hear and see?”

Violet could not, and thought such trifles did not
matter much. Music was an agreeable pastime when
it was lively or sugary, but the kinds that Brenda
liked were too stiff. She rather hoped that they were
not going to be taken to the Queen’s Hall this time
because when you only had one week in London you
wanted all the gayety and color you could get. Violet
loved a revue or a musical comedy. She was a charm-
ing small brunette with twinkling eyes and coaxing
ways. She looked smart although she spent next to
nothing on her clothes: and she was undoubtedly
civilized although she was undoubtedly ’ ignorant:
a puzzling British blend she had helped Brenda to
understand. Two years ago, when Brenda had seen
so much of her cousin Lothar, she had sometimes
compared his encyclopedic information with Violet’s
all-round want of it, and wondered why knowledge
did so little for the outer and the inner man. She
had not solved the problem yet.

Andrew Lovel was living at home and helping an
unmarried landowning uncle to look after his prop-
erty. He had been to Rugby and to Cambridge,
but as he grew up he did not develop any striking
qualities that might have helped him to choose a career.
At school he had been one of those solid trustworthy
boys who never distinguish themselves either at work
or play, but who are a useful element in a school,
steadying it and in a dilemma choosing the right way
38 SALT OF THE EARTH

either by instinct or tradition. At Cambridge he had
a happy uneventful history, and although he was
always short of money left no debts. To his father,
the Rector of Treva, he was a disappointment. The
Lovels were badly off, but some day, if Major Lovel
never married, Andrew would inherit a good deal of
land and money from him. But any day he might
marry, and then Andrew would be without a sixpence.
This uncertainty about his future had made Andrew
wish to go out into the world and fend for himself,
but the trouble was that he had no desire for any
career that his father considered suitable. He wanted
to fend for himself in one of the colonies, or even, at a
pinch, to go into business in London. The rector did
not like the idea of the colonies. They were a long
way off. The men out there drank and gambled,
and Andrew was his only son. He did not like the
idea of business either, because you could not succeed
in business unless you tried to get the better of other
people, and the rector hoped Andrew would never do
that. Besides, business required capital, and he had
none to give his son. He had hoped that Andrew
would do brilliantly at school and college and enter
high into the Civil Service. Fathers do mark out
these easy lines for sons, without reflecting that they
themselves have done nothing much and have probably
not bequeathed remarkable brains to their offspring.
However, the conversations at the Rectory concerning
Andrew’s career had all been conducted with good
humor. The father and son were the best of friends,
and when Major Lovel of Treva said that he would
like his nephew to act as his agent and work on the
estate with him, the prospect was so pleasing to Andrew
that he accepted it. His uncle paid him a small
salary, he lived at home, he was interested in his work
and the only blot on his happiness was the occasional
reflection that he was not taking a man’s share in the
rough and tumble of the world. He was not making
SALT OF THE EARTH 39

money, but as he had all he wanted, that did not
matter much at present. He could not marry, but
that did not seem to matter either, since he did not
fall in love.

This was the first time he had been invited to the
Millers’, and he had been invited as a dancing man to
Brenda’s birthday party. On the first evening the
four young people went to the theater by themselves.
Brenda talked to Andrew between the acts and Violet
talkd to Jem. After the theater Jem took them
to supper at the Carlton and Brenda knew by the
end of the evening that Jem liked Andrew quite
warmly; but she did not see the beginnings of a love
affair between her brother and Violet. The two men
were making plans for a day’s fishing together on
Saturday, and out of that grew another plan for which
the young people from Cornwall had the authority
of their elders. It was hoped at Treva, they said, that
Violet and Jem would pay them a visit in June when
the days were long and the sea warm enough for
bathing.

As Brenda brushed her hair that night she tried to
discover why some people made you feel that all was
well with the world, while others made you feel that
all was wrong. It had been a happy and harmonious
evening even when little things went contrary as
little things will, They had been five minutes late
for the first act and that was usually enough to spoil
’ Brenda’s pleasure a good deal; there had been a sharp
shower of rain as they came out of the theater, and at
the Carlton they had had to wait fora table. But when
you are with people who regard whatever happens
as part of the fun you can bear with such slings and
-arrows as these.

“T do like good-humored people,’ Brenda said
to her mother next day; and by that time she had
promised to go into supper with Andrew Lovel and to
give him two one-steps and an extra.
4c SALT OF THE EARTH

The dancing was to take place in a pavilion on the
lawn, the best band in London was to play, refresh-
ments and supper were to be served in the dining-
room at little tables, and in other rooms elderly people
could talk or play cards as they felt inclined. For
it was an entertainment to which old and young had
been invited. Brenda had wished it so and it was
her party in honor of her twenty-first birthday.
All day long presents were arriving for her, some
quite small but some such as only rich people can
give.

“It’s like a wedding, only nicer,” said Violet.

“Why is it nicer?” asked Mrs. Miller.

“You get such dull things at weddings. Knives
and forks and spoons! Brenda has had more jewelry
given her to-day than some women get in a lifetime.
She is lucky!”

“Yes, I am lucky,” said Brenda. ' The young
people were sitting with Mrs. Miiller in the library
and Brenda’s presents were all on view there.

“I suppose when you get married you don’t think
the spoons and forks are dull,” said Andrew. “You
can’t set up house without them; I’m rather fond of
nice silver.”

Brenda colored and turned away, furious because
the unbidden color had come. Yesterday at this
hour she had not known Andrew Lovel and to-day
when he spoke of people getting married she was fool
enough to blush. A sheer accident of course without
import or consequence, but yet tiresome. However,
if he saw he made no sign. His manners were as
charming as his voice and smile. She wondered
why Violet had said that her brother was plain, and
still more why on his arrival yesterday she had thought
so herself.

He danced well, too. All through the evening
Brenda danced happily, but with a touch of extra
pleasure when the turn came to dance with Andrew.
SALT OF THE EARTH 41

‘He looked pleased, too, when he claimed her; and in
various small ways he helped her to make the evening
a success. She decided that he was an early Victorian
man who encompassed a woman with sweet observ-
ances just because she was a woman; and as riddles
of this kind always engaged her fancy she tried to
discover why Lothar’s attitude to women roused
her anger while Andrew’s did not. She supposed
that one difference between the two men was in their
view of service, for Lothar expected to receive it and
Andrew to give it.

The people who came to the dance were of various
nationalities, and in some ways their ways were not
English ways. Mr. Miiller’s firm traded over half
the world, and men came to him with credentials from
many countries. Andrew and Violet had never been
in such a cosmopolitan gathering, but Brenda was
used to it. She spoke French as well as German and
she could get on-in Italian.

“Where did you learn all these languages?” asked
‘Andrew. ‘Never at school.”

“No; not at school,” said Brenda. “I had
French and German governesses. Languages are
useful. Besides every fresh one you know gives
you a literature.”

“You could put all I know about literature into a
percussion cap,” said Andrew.

Following on this horrible confession, Jem’s esti-
mate of Andrew Lovel came as a surprise.

“TI never met a man whose head was screwed on
tighter,” Jem said. “He knows a lot.”

“What does he know?” asked Brenda:

“Everything that’s any good.”

“He doesn’t seem to me nearly as well informed
as Lothar.”

“That’s just what Lothar was . . . well informed.
He always reminded me of a half-cooked pudding,
full of good stuff and the result beastly.”
42. SALT OF THE EARTH

“Jem! Didn’t you like Lothar?”

“T should think not. Did you?”

“Sometimes I did. Sometimes I didn’t.”

“T didn’t see anything in him to like,” said Jem.

Brenda did not argue the point. She had not for-
gotten Lothar, but she felt pretty sure that he would
never come into her life again. He had written a
polite letter to his aunt two years ago, and since then
they had only heard of him when Mrs. Miller heard
from her brother at Christmas. He was still un-
married and had lately been promoted to the rank of
Captain. That was about all Brenda knew of the man
who for a short time had been so much attracted by
her; and she sometimes wondered whether it was
usual for men to be on the brink of marriage one day
and ready to forget you cheerfully the next. If so,
she thought their hearts must be of a peculiar texture,
easily inflammable and easily calmed. She had not
known till now that Jem positively disliked his German
cousin.

“T wish you were going to stay longer,” she said to
Andrew Lovel, the night before Violet and he were to
leave.

“So do I,” said Andrew. “But in June you and
Jem are coming to us.”

“TI have never been in the country in June,” said
Brenda.

It gave Andrew a little shock of surprise to hear her
say so. They were in Brenda’s sitting-room, waiting
for the car which was to take the four young people
to the theater. Both the room and the girl were
exquisitely fresh and dainty and Andrew knew that
the flowers in the room, the chintzes, the pretty carpet,
the books, Brenda’s gown and the becoming long fur
coat waiting for her to slip on, all meant money.
She was a lovely sheltered child of fortune who could
never lead a life of comparative poverty. As he
looked at her and her room he thought of the plain,
SALT OF THE EARTH 43

rather shabby rooms at home and of the narrow
means that made their shabbiness inevitable.

“I’m wrong,” said Brenda, speaking again before
he did. “Two years ago I was in Heidelberg in
June.”

“T’ve never been out of England,” said Andrew.

“Don’t you want to?”

“Rather. But I’m tied to Treva.”

“Are you?” said Brenda. It seemed a narrow
outlook and almost a pity that Andrew sat down to it.

“My work’s there,” he said.

“I want to see the world. Everything unknown
tempts me.”

“T’ve often wished I had brothers.”

“So that you could have gone out into the world?”
“Yes.” ’

“That is what my father did. He went to China
and made his way.”

“That is what a man should do. Then he can
marry and give his wife all she wants.”

“T knew you were an early Victorian man,’
Brenda, her lips merry with laughter.

“What do you mean?”

“Your ideas. You want to give everything, not to
take.”

“But I was only thinking of things you buy with
money.”

“I know; and they are just what do not matter:
and yet you make so much of them.”

“Not for myself,” began Andrew, and then stopped
short because the others cate into the room,

cried
Vv

RENDA knew very little about the Lovels.
The brother and sister were candid but not com-
municative, and they imparted bare facts with-

out the vital glosses. They were not well off, their
father was a clergyman and Andrew acted as agent
to an unmarried uncle who owned land. The uncle's
property was called Treva, and the Rectory was close
by. Both were near the sea, but the Rectory had the
finest view. This was about all Brenda knew of her
friend’s home when she got out at Porthlew one after-
noon in June. She had never paid a visit by herself
before, and she had no experience of life in English
country houses. The idea of staying in a rectory was
rather alarming, but at any rate it was not to be ex-
pected that Violet and her friends would behave like
the country-house people in up-to-date novels who loll
about on divans, smoke cigarettes, drink whiskey and °
soda, and talk in epigrams. That, Brenda thought,
would have been too depressing to bear; and she had
made up her mind that if she found herself in a hall
full of disagreeable women in tea-gowns she would
run away. However, she could not picture Violet or
Andrew amongst this particular breed of smart people,
and when they met at her journey’s end their friendly
welcome set her at ease and she started in high spirits
for a six-mile drive into the unknown.

It was market day in Porthlew, and it seemed to
Brenda, as they ascended the main street, that every
man and woman and child were known to her friends.

44
SALT OF THE EARTH 45

The people stood about in leisurely groups, the country
"buses were loaded with cases and packages, a band
was playing and the sun was shining. Brenda looked
about her interested and amused, while Andrew steered.
his pony skillfully through the crowd and Violet
counted up the parcels she had still to collect. from
various places in town.

“Have you no shops near you?” said Brenda.

“These are the nearest,’ said Violet.

“But these are six miles away.”

“Ves.”

“Then what do you do if you want things sud-
denly ?”

“Fetch them or do without.”

Brenda meditated on the difficulties of housekeeping
under such circumstances until they left the town ani
began to drive along. an interminable country road,
hilly and dusty and at first rather dull. The dust was
mostly raised by large Jersey cars loaded with trippers,
and there was less when the pony cart turned into a
secondary road hedged on either side by ragged furze
bushes out of flower. When Brenda could see over
she saw bare low hills and cutivated fields and gray
farm buildings. When the sun hid behind a bank of
clouds the whole landscape turned leaden and depress-
ing. But the air was singularly clear, and directly
they reached the cross roads at Treva Cross Brenda
saw the sea. By this time they were miles away from
the environs of Porthlew and from its traffic. The
lane in which they drove was full of foxgloves and
from the fields there came the scent of clover and new-
mown hay. The only trees to be seen were those sur-
rounding Treva and hiding the house from view; and:
when the pony left the road it picked its way along a
rough farm track that brought them with unexpected:
suddenness to the Rectory.

The house had been built about a hundred years ago,
and was a plain solid one in the late Georgian style.
46 SALT OF THE EARTH

Its front faced the sea and was near enough to be
drenched with the spray of winter storms. Behind
the house there was a sheltered garden, but between
the house and the sea the moor stretched to the rocks
as nature left it, strewn with granite boulders and car-
peted with heather and furze. To-night the sea was
calm, a young moon rode the cloudless sky and fishing
boats drifted slowly and smoothly westwards. On
the horizon it was clear enough to see the smoke of
liners homeward and outward bound.

By the time that Brenda had seen the Rector and
Mrs. Lovel, and had been taken upstairs to the big
plainly furnished guest-chamber appointed to her,
she knew that she had come to a paradise. The land-
scape enfolded her and so did the house and the people.
The note of austerity indoors and out was in tune with
her own inner nature, inclined to duty and reflection.
She did not mind plain food and worn carpets when
the windows were magic casements and the inmates
of the house as warmly kind as her hosts. Andrew
took after his mother, Brenda had discovered. Mrs.
Lovel, like her son, was plain, and Violet’s cameo
features were inherited from her father, whose silvery
hair and chiseled profile ought to have procured him
a bisphoric. He had not as simple a nature as his wife
and son, Brenda thought, after half an hour’s acquaint-
ance, but he had a charming voice that he had be-
queathed to both his children.

~ Violet came into the room as Brenda was unpacking
her clothes, sat down on a window seat and began to
chatter. :

“You needn’t think it’s quiet here, though it is the
depths of the country,” she began. “When it blows
you'll hear big seas booming all night, and when it’s
still you hear a murmur. There’s a willow-warbler
close by; and owls and night-jars come, too. They
keep you awake at night, and in the morning the rooks
caw and the gulls scream. I hope you'll like it.”
SALT OF THE EARTH 47

“[’m sure I shall,” said Brenda, kneeling beside
Violet on the window seat and staring at the sea.

“IT wonder you can bear to come away,” she said
soon.

“This house is only ours for my father’s lifetime,”
said Violet. “If he died, my mother wouldn’t have a
roof to her head or a penny in her pocket. I’ve only
known it just lately, and I want to go out and earn my
living.”

“But you have your brother.”

“He doesn’t earn enough to keep himself. Besides,
a man wants to marry as a rule.”

“My father has kept his mother and grandmother
since he was quite a boy. He did not marry till he
could afford it.”

“That’s what Andrew said when I spoke to him the
other day. He can never marry, but he'll look after
me. He doesn’t want me to be a governess.”

“T can understand that,” said Brenda.

The two girls were intimate, but with reservations.
They had never talked to each other much of family
affairs, but that was because girls of their age are not
usually told much by their elders. Brenda had not.
known till now that Violet’s future was uncertain, and.
if she did not marry might be impoverished. Some-
times this spring she had thought that Jem cared for
her friend, but as he had not spoken she supposed that
she had been mistaken. Still there were other men in
the world and Violet was distractingly pretty. Brenda
herself derived great pleasure from watching her, but
could not imagine her battling for her bread.

“IT wish Jem could have come with me,” she said
when she had gone back to her unpacking. “He will
have a bare week here as it is. He gets so little holi-
day.”

“Tf onty the weather lasts,” said Violet.

It was impossible to judge from her manner whether
Jem’s arrival mattered to her or not; and it had been
48 SALT OF THE EARTH

impossible to judge from Andrew’s manner whether he
felt as peculiarly glad to see Brenda as she had been to
see him again. She had noted what Violet said about
it being impossible for him to marry, but thought she
had heard of cases where this had been said and not
fulfilled. She decided that evening, however, that his
manner to his mother was just as attentive and devoted
as it was to her. Brenda’s own family atmosphere
was harmonious, and she found the same pleasant
traditions of courtesy and good-fellowship prevailing
here. She enjoyed her first evening at the Rectory
in a calm, rather disappointing way, and it was not till
she leaned out of her bedroom window to listen to the
waves that the stir in her heart found what it wanted.
The stars, the fresh salt air and the rhythmic splash of
a peaceful sea soothed her and promised her all that
nature can promise happy youth, to-morrow and to-
morrow.

She did not quite know what had disappointed her
throughout the evening, for as far as she knew she
did not love Andrew Lovel yet or desire him to love
her. He was a dear, but poor, plain and without
experience or what she considered education. He was
young for his age and not as much master of his fate
as a man should be. She wanted love to come to her
in splendor and terror so that it was stronger than
her and irresistible. Nevertheless, her thoughts ran on
Andrew and she began to wonder what the unmarried
uncle was like who seemed to hold the reins of his
nephew’s life in his hands; and whether a young man
ought to run in harness just because it seemed con-
venient to do so. Next day she found that they were
. have luncheon at Treva and spend the afternoon
there.

“You have never told me much about your uncle?”
she said to Violet. “Are you fond of him?”

“He’s all right,” said Violet, and that did not tell
Brenda much. But when she sat at lunch next to
SALT OF THE EARTH 49

Major Lovel she understood that he might be a man
who raised neither like nor dislike. He was dry and
silent, rather alarmingly well informed where Brenda
was ignorant, and without any knowledge of some
things that she thought the salt of life. His manner
to her was arid, but polite; and during lunch he talked
mostly to Andrew about mowing-machines. He was
quite unlike his brother, the Rector, and Brenda
thought that he probably had better brains, the kind
of brains that enjoys mowing-machines and despises
small talk. He was a largely made man with a steady
eye and a clean-shaven face. Once or twice Brenda
thought that he felt impatient with his brother. His
silence showed it and the dryness of his voice when he
began again about mowing-machines. The Rector’s
voice was musical and his accent fastidiously articulate.
Brenda could imagine his speech mimicked with success
and she thought his arguments exposed him to derision,
too. He wanted every sword in England turned into a
' plowshare, and feared that the new naval programme
might annoy the Germans.

“Why do we not try to conciliate them?” he said.
“They are the most intellectual and formidable people
in Europe.”

“What do you think about it?” said Major Lovel,
bluntly and suddenly to Brenda. “You're German,
aren't you?”

“No, I’m not,” said Brenda with decision. “I was
born in England.”

“TI was born in India, but I’m English.”

“You'll never conciliate them,” said Brenda, waiving
her personal claims for the moment. “The more ships
you build, the better.”

“Hear, hear,” said the Major, and returned to his.
mowing-machines. Mrs. Lovel did not talk much
at all, and Violet tried in vain to end the
debate on machines by interpolations of a calculated
levity.
50 SALT OF THE EARTH

“Are we going to have tea.on the rocks, Uncle
Adam?” she asked.

“I thought you were staying on here,” he said.

“Yes; but we can have tea on the rocks.”

“T don’t think so. I have tea in the library.”

His tone was final, and in Brenda’s ears rather bear-
ish, but no one seemed ruffled. As he spoke he got
up and opened the door into the library. From there
Mrs. Lovel and the two girls went into the drawing-
room in which there were folding-doors leading to a
billiard-room. All the rooms were large and furnished
by successive generations. They seemed to be full of
treasures that Brenda longed to look at, and perhaps
Mrs. Lovel guessed what was in the girl’s mind, for
when they had had coffee she showed her some of the
things on view in this room and the next. The tapes-
try on the walls was Jacobean and some of the furniture
was older still. There wasa great deal of rare old china,
too, and miniatures, frail silver, and in the billiard-
room more family portraits. Some Brenda had looked
at with interest in the dining-room, trying to see Major
Lovel in a Georgian wig and a fine gold-laced coat
such as the Lovel opposite her had worn when he sat
for his portrait. A little later in the afternoon, when
they all went into the garden, her impressions grew of
an unbroken, unchanging order handing its traditions
and its property from generation to generation. The
great fir trees flanking the lawn were only a hundred

“years old, but the lawn itself had been a bowling green
when the Armada sacked and burned the village of
Guavas on the coast east of Treva, and in 1356 a Lovel
of Treva had led a company of archers at Poictiers.

“What a beautiful place it is,” said Brenda, as
she listened to these stories told by one and another.
“I did not know there was anything in England so
beautiful.”

“But what do I know of England?” she thought
the moment she had spoken. “London and Cromer
SALT OF THE EARTH 51

and Scarborough. This is England. ‘In a great
pool a swan’s nest.’ Here you feel it.”

They had left the garden proper now and were walk-
ing down a narrow path that led through a wood
planted beneath the taller trees with hydrangeas.
Beyond the wood they came to an apple orchard and
then to the sheltered places beneath the cliff where
Major Lovel grew fields of daffodils; and then to the
waste lands at the edge of the sea. Bracken, furze
and primroses grew amongst the short grass here and
enormous boulders lay inland beyond the mightiest
waves. The beach itself was all rock and cliff, with
delicious clear pools in which Brenda found sea anem-
ones and little crabs. The air was salt on her lips,
the sun shone fiercely on her and the only sign of man
outside their own party she saw on the horizon in the
unfurled sails of a ship.

“T should like to build a hut on a shore like this and
live in it for ever,” she cried. They were threading
their way over some rocks in single file now and Brenda
thought that Violet was close behind. But when she
turned her head she saw that Andrew had slipped into
his sister’s place and that they were some way ahead
of the rest.

“T wish there was the smallest chance of your living
here for ever,” said Andrew.

He spoke less cheerfully than usual, for his outlook
had never seemed so circumscribed and doubtful.
Major Lovel paid him a hundred a year, and a man
like Andrew does not ask a girl like Brenda to marry
him on a hundred a year. Of any improvement in his
prospects he saw no chance for years to come, when
Brenda would have married some one else and nothing
would matter. If his uncle remained a bachelor, he
would own Treva some day. But Major Lovel was
only fifty. The last owner of Treva had married at
fifty-two, begotten Adam and the Rector and lived to
be ninety. At that rate Andrew would be sixty-eight
52 SALT OF THE EARTH

when according to circumstances he did or did not
inherit.

This train of thought was unusually depressing.
Andrew never dwelt on his prospects because they
were uncertain and remote and also because he hated
the thought of waiting for dead men’s shoes. He
wished more than ever to-day that he had gone out
into the world to seek his fortune. But the work he
was doing had offered itself and his parents both did
their best to make him take it.

“We are glad to keep you at home, my boy,” the
Rector had said genially, “there is no place like
home”: and at the time Andrew had agreed with him.
Now the hour had come when he wanted ardently to
make a home of his own and could not.

_ “T don’t earn as much as a clerk,” he said from the
depths of his thoughts; and Brenda understood that
this remark followed on his last one and was fraught
with meaning. She did not answer it because she
could not think of anything to say; but as they stood
together on the higher reach of the cliff and looked out
to sea she asked him if he liked his work.

“Yes; I like it,” he said, “but it leads nowhere.”

“You must talk to Jem,” said Brenda. “He may
have ideas.”

“T have ideas myself. Uncle Adam has land in
New Zealand, and I: should like to go out there and run
it for him.’ I believe I could make it pay. But I
haven’t persuaded him yet that it would be worth
while. Of course it takes money and time to start
anything now.”

“But would you be better off out there?”

“Much better off. I should be a working partner
in a paying business . . . I hope.”

“But as far as your friends are concerned you might
as well be in heaven,” said Brenda.

It was a disjointed argument, interrupted by the
arrival of the others and not resumed. During the
SALT OF THE EARTH 53

next few days Andrew was busy out of doors and
hardly seen by his family till dinner-time. , It turned
hot suddenly, so hot that after dinner the three young
people liked to stroll down to the shore and sit about
on the rocks. Then Jem arrived and there were four
young people to find the long warm evenings beguiling.

“I think you ought to accompany them, my dear,”
said the Rector anxiously.

“They’ve orily gone to see the moonlight on the
rocks,” said Mrs. Lovel.

“They went to see it yesterday and will probably
go again to-morrow.” '

“You cannot expect young people to stay indoors
in weather like this; and I’m too rheumatic to scramble
about. the rocks with them. Besides, I should feel in
their way.”

“But that is my point, my dear. I think perhaps
you ought to be in their way.”

“Why?”

“For the sake of appearances. The maids must
see them go out every evening if no one else does.”

Mrs. Lovel knitted half a row before she spoke
again, and then she only said that she liked Jem and
Brenda Miiller.

“So do I,” said the Rector. “But I am not sure
that I approve of them as friends for our children.”

“Why not?”

“They seem to be wealthy people.”

“T like wealthy people.”

“But their idea of expenditure must be so different
from our own.”

“No doubt,” said Mrs. Lovel dryly.

“I should not wish either of our children to marry
for money, I disapprove of it.”

“So do I,” said Mrs. Lovel.

“Tt leads to great unhappiness.”

“So does poverty.”

The Rector’s delicate face looked troubled. His wife
54 SALT OF THE EARTH

was very dear to him, but her occasional bluntness of
speech was not. For the moment it seemed to turn
life into a pilgrimage made with a small hard pea in
his shoe.

“T have a great horror of being thought mercenary,”
he said.

Mrs. Lovel went on knitting.

“I am sure, my dear, that you agree with me,” her
husband persisted: so she had to answer him.

“We are not mercenary,” she said. “We never
have been and we never shall be. We could both
have married for money and did not. We have been
very happy together, but I’m anxious about the chil-
dren. I want Violet to marry. I don’t care what
people think.”
VI

URING the next week the happiest person in
the Rectory was Mrs. Lovel, because she saw
what was coming and rejoiced greatly. Jem

and Violet were like other undeclared lovers, moody
and anxious one hour, exuberantly happy the next.

Himmelhoch jauchzend
Zum Tode betriibt
Gliicklich allein ist die Seele die liebt.

Brenda sang Clarchen’s song one evening after dinner
and she had scarcely finished when her brother and
her friend slipped out of the room, their eyes raptur-
ous. Brenda’s eyes followed them wistfully, and she
waited a little before she began another song. Night
after night the four young people had watched the
moonlight playing on the sea, but this night Andrew
had sat down to a game of chess with his father and
was absorbed in it. At any rate he did not look up
from the board when the other two departed and he
did not propose to follow them.

Brenda sang a song by Grieg next and then shut the
piano. The room was a large one and she could talk
to Mrs. Lovel in one corner of it without disturbing
‘the chess-players in another. The two ladies sat near
an open window through which Brenda could see the
flower garden at the back of the house. She had
some embroidery in her hands, but she hardly set a
stitch. Her eyes looked at the garden and she listened
to the tu-whit-tu-whoo of owls calling and answering

50
56 SALT OF THE EARTH

each other while she talked to Mrs. Lovel about those
small affairs of the daily round that occupy the tongue
even when the thoughts are elsewhere. Mrs. Lovel’s
heart went out to the girl as an older woman’s will to
youth that sees a rough furrow in front of it. There
was no doubt in the mother’s mind that Brenda and
her son were strongly drawn to each other and that
Andrew was holding back because he was poor. That
was why he made excuses to stay out all day and now
sat over his game of chess, while Brenda’s eyes lost
their laughter and stared at the garden without seeing
it. Mrs. Lovel felt sorry for the girl, but not desper-
ately sorry. Nobody could foresee yet what would
happen if the two families became united by one
marriage. A second might follow, and Mrs. Lovel
thought that an interval between the two was desir-
able even at the price of a little heartache and uncer-
tainty. The idea of both brother and sister going home
engaged to her children offended her sense of pro-
priety, since she knew that Andrew had no worldly
goods to offer, while even the expenses of a daughter’s
wedding would be difficult for the Rector to meet.
Meanwhile the picture of the room and of the-moon-
lit garden fixed themselves in Brenda’s memory so
that long afterwards when she thought of Treva she
thought of the night when Andrew played chess with
his father while she talked in undertones to Mrs. Lovel.
Although it was a warm June evening a small wood
fire was burning and scented the air, fragrant also with
the scent of flowers. The Rector’s silvery head and
chiseled features pleased Brenda to-night as the
center of a scene in which the dominant notes were
stability and peace. Andrew’s pleasant voice, as
refined as his father’s and without any clerical twang,
pulled at her heartstrings until suddenly and inex-
plicably she felt stifled by this guarded room which
she had entered and from which she must soon go as a
stranger. She got up, startling Mrs. Lovel, whose
SALT OF THE EARTH 57

thoughts had wandered from the storms of youth and
their manifestations.

“I’m going out to find the others,” she said, and was
away before any one answered her.

She did not go far. She wanted to be by herself
in the moonlight, enfolded by its beauty and sadness.
All her life she had learned that man is born to trouble,
but she herself had hardly known trouble. Her heart
had never ached and felt sore till now. Why did
Andrew change and chill towards her as he had done
lately? Did he love her or not? and did she love
him? Out here beneath the stars they might have
come to a conclusion: but he stayed dryly indoors,
ioving his chessmen deliberately, intent on his game,
allowing her to walk here alone. That showed he did
not care as she did.

Jem and Violet were happier. They had found
themselves out here in surroundings of peace and
beauty that would remain with them as part of love's
heritage for ever. She heard it in their voices, she saw
it in their eyes the moment she met them.

“Where is Andrew?” said Jem.

“He is playing chess,” said Brenda.

“How dull of him! Violet, shall we tell her?”

“You needn’t tell me,” said Brenda. “I know.”

“How could you possibly know?” cried Jem, but
no one answered him.

“Men are odd,” said Brenda when she had kissed
Violet warmly. “He has known you for years. He
saw you for a whole week this spring. What made him
speak just to-night? You must have known long ago
that you wanted to marry Violet, didn’t you, Jem?”

“But I didn’t know that Violet would marry me,”
said Jem.

“Are you going to tell people at once?”

“T’m going to tell mother,” said Violet. She looked
beautiful to-night, Brenda perceived, when they went
into the drawing-room again, beautiful and glowing
58 SALT OF THE EARTH

as if the flame of happiness lighted by Jem shone in
her eyes and smile and even in the poise of her bady,
carrying her news like victory, with rejoicings. She
went straight across the room to where her mother sat
placidly sewing.

“Mother!” she said, and at her voice with its new
vibration Mrs. Lovel looked up.

“I’m engaged to Jem,” she went on, and her declara-
tion must have reached the chess-players, for Andrew,
in the act of moving his Queen, put her down and
pushed back his chair. ‘Jem, hearing what Violet said,
went across the room to the Rector.

“T’ve asked Violet to marry me,” he said, and
there was a moment of suspense and general con-
gratulation.

“T hope your father and mother will be pleased,”
said the Rector as if he doubted it; and next day he
called Jem into his study and explained that he could
not give his daughter a dowry or even make her an
allowance.

“T might let her have twenty pounds a year for her
clothes at present,” he suggested, looking rather wor-
ried. “But if I were to die even that...”

Jem explained very gravely and politely that he had
plenty of money himself and would some day inherit
a great deal from his father. He did not ask for a
penny with his wife.

“But what will your father and mother say?” asked
the Rector again.

“They will be delighted,” said Jem, and to judge by
the telegram he received in answer to his news, they
were.

So was Uncle Adam. He offered to pay all the
expenses of Violet’s wedding, and when he found that
she was going back with Jem and Brenda to buy clothes
he gave her a check for a hundred pounds. There
were no obstacles, thought Brenda, and no criticisms.
Every one concerned approved of the marriage and

?
SALT OF THE EARTH ‘59

wished the young couple happiness. Mrs. Miiller did
not think that a hundred pounds was enough to buy a
trousseau, because she had some old-fashioned German
ideas that ran into dozens and dozens of everything
besides enough household linen for children and chil-
dren’s children. But she resigned herself to seeing
her son buy furniture and linen that a correct German
bride would have brought as her portion even if she
had been in modest circumstances. She hoped that
Violet would not be as unthrifty as her parents must
have been, since they had apparently saved nothing
for their daughter’s marriage; and she hoped that
Jem, who had been used to his mother’s housekeeping
all his life, would not be very uncomfortable with a
wife who knew even less than Brenda did about cater-
ing and cooking. But Mrs. Miiller kept these trifling
qualms to herself and took real pleasure in helping the
young people to set up their home. Jem took a house
in Kensington Square, and while it was being painted
and papered Violet came up to London again to choose
furniture. They were to be married at the end of
July and have a six weeks’ holiday in Switzerland and
at the Italian Lakes.

“T didn’t think any one could be as happy as I am,”
Violet said one afternoon. This was about a week
before her marriage, and she was standing with Brenda
at a window in her own drawing-room waiting for
Jem. The two girls had been looking at the new papers
and paint, taking measurements and deciding important
points about carpets and curtains.

“You are not sorry to give up the country?” said
Brenda.

“Not a bit. I’d much rather live in London. I
feel more alive here. Besides . .. what does it
matter where one lives? Id have gone to Patagonia
if Jem had wanted me to. Wouldn’t you? if you
knew any one as nice as Jem?”

“I suppose I should,” said Brenda. She. was. very
60 SALT OF THE EARTH

giad that Violet was so happy, but as she was human
she wished that she could have been happy, too. She
did not think there was any chance of it, and this
made her feel sad when she should have been cheerful,
and restless, although to the outside view she had all
a girl can desire. She half dreaded her brother’s
wedding because it would bring her face to face with
Andrew Lovel again, and yet she counted the hours
till she saw him. She had made up her mind that if
he chilled completely she would pull herself together
and refuse to be heartbroken. She wanted to be
happy, and one of the things on which happiness de-
pends is a whole heart and a satisfied one.

“If I wanted to marry a poor man, what would
happen?” she said to her mother one day.

“There are different kinds of poor men,” said Mrs.
Miiller cautiously.

“T know. In some cases poverty is a reproach, but
not in others. I shall never want to marry a waster.
T detest weak men.”

“We are all weak—in places,” said Mrs. Miller.
“No one is wholly strong. In marriage you must
take good and bad together.”

“T don’t see anything bad in you and father.”

“That is because you love us. It is the same in
marriage. Love makes people tolerant.”

“I don’t want to be tolerant,” cried Brenda. “I
want to marry some one much better and stronger
than I am myself, if I marry at all. Nothing matters
in a man except strength.”

“What is strength?” said Mrs. Miiller.

Her matter-of-fact mind sometimes met her daugh-
ter’s more subtle one and balked it in this way by a
question Brenda could not answer; for the girl did not
know yet what kind of strength she sought for in a
mate or even whether she wanted it manifested in
‘Spirit or in muscle or in the romantic compound that
men of flesh and blood so se\dom realize.
SALT OF THE EARTH 61

“A man should be able to make his way,” she said.
“It would not matter about being poor if you knew
he was working hard and would get on.”

“There are men who work hard and never get on,”
said Mrs. Miiller.

“I suppose Jack is poor,” said Brenda, speaking of
her brother-in-law, Major Wilmot. “But Thekla is
very happy.”

“Your father gave her ten thousand pounds when
she married,” said Mrs. Miiller.

“Ts father a millionaire then?”

“T. cannot tell you what he has, but I am sure he is
not a millionaire. Why do you ask?”

“I was just wondering. What does it cost to live?
Do we spend more than a thousand a year here?”

“Much more.”

“Some men are absurdly proud,” said Brenda.
“They will not marry a girl with money if they have
none themselves.”

“Quite right,” said Mrs. Miiller, who gave a shrewd
guess at the girl’s uncertain state of mind. She was
not a mercenary woman and she liked what she had
seen of Andrew Lovel, but she liked him all the better
when she was more or less told that he was not the man
to hang his hat in his wife’s hall. For the rest she
left developments to time and chance. In these days
and in this country young people expect to manage
their own affairs.

The Miillers were to stay with Major Lovel at Treva
for Jem’s wedding, and they went there the day before.
Brenda did not see Andrew until he arrived with the
party from the Rectory in time for dinner, and then
other guests were in the room. He came up to her at
once, but was soon carried off by his uncle to the lady
he had to take in. Brenda’s neighbors at dinner
were an elderly colonel and a young Lovel who was a
curate up country and was going to assist in the
service to-morrow. He had not heard Brenda’s name
62 SALT OF THE EARTH

when he was introduced, and he asked her if she
thought mixed marriages ever turned out well.

“T suppose it depends on the mixture,” said Brenda.

“If I had not known that the bridegroom was Ger-
man, I should have taken him for English,” said the
curate, staring at Jem.

“He is English,” said Brenda.

“But his parents are German. You can see it.”

“Can you?”

“Yes. I don’t like Germans. Do you?”

“T like some very much.”

“Not really?”

“Ves; really.”

“Perhaps you don’t know many. I spent a fort-
night in Dresden this spring.”

“I was never in Dresden.”

“Ah!” said the curate. “You must be in a coun-
try to know its people.”

“But Dresden is a beautiful city, isn’t it?”

“Beautiful! But I didn’t feel at home there.”

“Do you speak German?”

“Not a word.”

“What was it that you disliked so much?”

“Well... I had quite a little adventure. They

, Tan me in because they found me taking photographs;
and they were most rude and unpleasant.”

“T can imagine that,” said Brenda.

“T told them I was a clergyman, and they said that
only made it worse. They detained me for three days
and then hustled me over the frontier. And they kept
my camera. When I got home I wrote very severely
to them. At any rate they know my opinion.”

“I suppose in England any one may take a camera
anywhere,” said Brenda.

“T hope so,” said the curate; and then Brenda had
to turn to the elderly colonel, who asked her if she
liked hunting. When he found that she had never
been on a horse he seemed to wonder what she did
|

i

f

SALT OF THE EARTH 63

with her life and where she had been raised; and in a
polite way he turned his back on her. So she did not
enjoy herself overmuch, and when the men came
into the drawing-room after dinner Andrew asked her
if she had been bored.

“Did I look bored? I hope not,” she cried, and
she told him what the curate had said about mixed
marriages and Germans.

Andrew said his cousin was known to be a silly ass,
but otherwise harmless, and that his experiences as a
suspected spy had ‘given him the thrill of his life. He
knew no more of Germans than he knew of Choctaws,
and when he talked of mixed marriages he talked
through his hat.

“Besides,” said Andrew, “a man marries to please.

himself, not to please some fool of a cousin. What
does it matter what people say?”

“Tt doesn’t matter,” agreed Brenda.

“Nothing matters except one’s own conscience.”

“But you may listen too much to conscience and
become monkish,” said Brenda. “I don’t believe in
that either. Generally what makes you happy is
right.”

“Oh! That’s too easy,” cried Andrew, but neither
of them carried on the argument. They were glad
to be near each other and hardly to talk at all. An-

drew sat cleverly with his back to the rest of the room, '

so that he could worship Brenda with his eyes. She
wore a gown he had never seen before to-night, and he
thought, as he looked at it, that no other woman could
have chosen it, or worn it with such charm. It was
a picturesque gown, with a groundwork of soft blue
and embroideries of silver. It clung to her with a
sheath-like tightness, molding the lovely curves of her
figure and giving value to the lights of golden red in
her brown hair and to her hazel eyes: As they talked
they watched an exodus from the room of all the
guests, led by the Rector and Mrs. Lovel.
64 SALT OF THE EARTH

“We are going across to the Rectory to see the
presents,” some one said. “There will be such a
crowd to-morrow.”

“Shall we go, too?” said Andrew.

Brenda got up, but said something about a wrap.
) She went upstairs for it, and waited a moment to draw
‘back her curtain and look out at the sea. There were
lights on it and there were stars in the sky, a full
summer moon, and in full view a rabbit nibbling on
the lawn. When she got down she found Andrew
waiting for her, and she told him about the rabbit.
But it had gone when they reached the lawn. She
wished they could go down to the shore as they used
to when they were here before, but she would not
propose it, and he went straight to the Rectory. Here
they became part of the crowd, a merry talkative
crowd giving its attention to silver spoons and teapots
and to the bride and bridegroom who were going to
use them.

“Jem has had more presents than I have,” an-
nounced Violet. “They are all in London except this
pearl necklace, which his great-grandmother sent him
for me. Isn’t it sweet, with that little square clasp
that has his great-grandfather’s hair in it. All Jem’s
German relations have sent him presents. Why didn’t
they come to the wedding? Father adores Germans.
He says they are so gentle and honest and simple.
Are your relations like that, Jem, or are they the new
kind that rattle the saber and say the earth is theirs?”

“They are the new kind,” said Brenda, answering
for Jem, who hesitated.

“How amusin’,” said Violet, and turned to some
one who was admiring an old tea-caddy and asking its
date.

Brenda perceived in her present surroundings, what
she had perceived before amongst English people,
their feeling of impregnable security, their imperturb-
able good-humor and their blindness to a menace that
SALT OF THE EARTH 65

ever since she had known the Erdmanns hung over
her at times with sinister foreboding.

“It wouldn’t be amusin’ if Germany sprang at us,”
she said to Andrew; “it would be horrible. They
. are ready and we are not.”

“Why should they spring at us?”

“T suppose they want what we have got.”

“Nations don’t make war in that way. They have
to think of public opinion.”

Brenda did not carry on the argument, because she
could not convey her impression, derived largely from
her uncle and cousin, that Germans care precious little
for any opinion but their own. You might as well try
to explain a prize fighter to a don as Germans like the
Erdmanns to English people like the Rector of Treva
and his friends. Besides, the occasion and the hour
were unsuitable. The world these people lived in was
a peaceful; prosperous one, a world of dignified tradi-
tions, highly ‘civilized and urbane. She could not
imagine it shaken by men like Uncle Wilhelm and
Lothar.

“Still, your ancestors fought and died for their
country,” she said aloud. “The English are a war-
like race.”

“My great-grandfather was killed at Waterloo,”
said Andrew. “His portrait is in the dining-room at
Treva.”

Then, every one who was staying in Major Lovel’s
house bid good-night; and next day in the village
church there was a country wedding with the church
and churchyard crowded in a way that the Miillers,
used to London weddings, had not foreseen. Indeed,
the festivities seemed tc them unending, for after the
bride and bridegroom and most of the guests had
departed there was a supper for the parishioners with
toasts and speeches. These were not interesting in
themselves, but they gave Brenda lights on the social
position of a family that has owned a corner of Eng-
56 SALT OF THE EARTH

land for some hundreds of years. She also observed
that in the opinion of the villagers Mr. Andrew was
his uncle’s heir. One of the tenants, floundering in
the mazes of a congratulatory speech, hoped they
would soon be drinking his health and dancing at his
; wedding.

“°Fraid he'll be disappointed,” said Andrew in a
low voice to a man next to him, and Brenda, standing
just in front, heard him.

She went back to London regretful and depressed.
‘If Andrew had not stolen her heart he had touched it
and lived there for some time as the man she could
hhave loved and married. When, in the autumn, she
heard that he had gone to New Zealand, she asked
Violet if he was likely to stay there for good.

“He might. For his sake I wish he would!”

“Why ?”?

“It gives him a chance. Over here his life is a
blind alley.”

“He liked his work.”

“But it led to nothing. He had no outlook.”

The two young women were sitting near the fire in
Violet’s drawing-room. Rose-colored curtains shut
out the November weather, half drizzle, half fog. Tea
had just come in and was waiting invitingly on two
low tables. On the wall opposite Brenda there was a
Cornish landscape by Lamorna Birch and it reminded
Brenda of summer and Treva. The picture had been
Uncle Adam’s present to Jem, and always sent her
fancy wandering westwards.

“Your father and mother will be lonely,” she said.

“They have each other. If I found myself on a
star with Jem, I shouldn’t mind.”

“Beastly selfish, isn’t it?” she said after a moment’s
silence, during which Brenda did not speak.

“T wasn’t thinking of that,” said Brenda. “I was
wondering about marriage. Must you bring such
love, or does it follow?”
SALT OF THE EARTH 67

“Tt follows,” said Violet with decision, “you needn’t
be afraid.”

“But marriages are not all happy.”

“So they say, I know. I’ve not come across many
unhappy ones.’

“Violet?’ began Brenda rather hesitatingly.
“Did you ever care for any one before you met Jem?”
' “Rather! said Violet. “I adored one of our
curates, a fair young man with a weak chin and large
eyes.”

“Did he adore you?”

“He said so.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing. We couldn’t marry, so it just fizzled
out—thanks be!”

“Why couldn’t you marry?”

“No money.”

“Were you very unhappy?”

“T thought so at the time, I suppose. Then some
one else came along. None of them really mattered
though.”

“But at the time how do you know who matters
and who does not?”

“There’s Jem!” cried Violet, her whole body alert
and her eyes shining as she went to meet her husband,
‘ whose voice in the hall his sister could just hear. So
when a man mattered, it was like that. Your eyes
were alight, your voice had a ring in it, you did not
even hear what any one else said and you rushed off
to meet him. Presently you came back with him and
you both looked happier than the kingdoms of the
world could make you if you possessed them in loneli-
ness. But how were you to know?
VII

T was early summer, but in Heidelberg the heat
had been intense all day. After breakfast Brenda
had gone to market and come back to the hotel with

an armful of lilies of the valley and lilac and a blue and
gray jar full of wild strawberries. The strawberries
were sold in a cabbage leaf, so she had bought the jar
to hold them and paid three-halfpence for it. She had
come to Heidelberg a week ago with her father and
was staying with him at the Prinz Carl, where blue
and gray jars that cost three-halfpence each would
not have appeared anywhere except in the back
kitchens. But Brenda took hers upstairs, past an
amused and smiling hall-porter, emptied it of straw-
- berries, filled it with water, put in the white lilac and
set it on the table in her bedroom: the table that
stood in front of the sofa, covered with two table-
. covers, one of red chenille and one of lace.

That Germany was a wholly modern and progres- .
sive country, ahead of the rest of the world in every
respect, had of course been dinned into Brenda’s ears
’ for years by every German she met and by every
article appearing in English papers and reviews. So
it always rejoiced her greatly when she went to Ger-
many to find that progress had not swept away all
the characteristic little ways and customs that belonged
to her conception of her father’s country, a conception
in which fairy tales, piety, kindliness and a courageous
poverty played leading parts. She always hoped the
whole nation was not represented by the truculent

68
SALT OF THE EARTH 69

politics of their leaders, and when she came to Germany
she always found so many contradictory currents, so
much that was new and so much still delightfully old,
that her opinion of its main tendencies formed and
unformed itself every hour. She loved Heidelberg
and the daily visits to her grandmamma and great-
grandmamma. They still lived in the old-fashioned
house with the untidy garden behind it, and they still
pressed cakes and sweets on Brenda at odd times and
took a deep interest in what she wore. Neither they
nor their rooms had aged or altered since Brenda had
paid them a visit four years ago; but they seemed
to think that she was aging fast, and that by this
time she ought to be engaged or married. They did
not hint at their disappointment. They spoke of it
broadly and hoped she was not too difficult to please.
This time, too, they found fault with the plain tweed
coat and skirt she wore every day when she went ta
visit them..

“We have asked Brenda what clothes she had
brought with her, but we should also like to see them,”
said grandmamma.

“White!” said great-grandmamma. “When I was
young I wore white in summer. Brenda is not too old
_ for it yet, although to be sure I was married and the
mother of three at her age.”

“When I come to see you to-morrow I will wear
white,” said Brenda, who sat between the two old
dames on an enormous Empire sofa covered with
faded red brocade. “How old were you when you
‘married, great-grandmamma?”’

“I was seventeen, little heart, and my mother was
married when she was fifteen. Her husband fought
at Waterloo six weeks after the wedding. He was
badly wounded and was never the same man again.
She used to tell me about his sufferings and about her
own.”

Brenda loved that room and the two old ladies in it,
70 SALT OF THE EARTH

the stories they told her of bygone days, and their
tender quaint ways with her and with each other.

“But Brenda ought to marry,” one of them said to
the other, coming back to the subject on their minds.

“Has your mother not told you so?” they said to
her. “If you come back next year, I hope it will be
with a husband.”

This plain speaking amused the girl, but she found
it difficult to parry. Why had she reached the mature
age of twenty-two without any chance of marriage?
Her father could give her a dowry and furnish a house
for her; she was a good-looking girl and evidently
healthy. The old ladies laid great stress on her being
healthy.

“By this time you should be the mother of sons,”
said great-grandmamma. ‘Men children who would
serve their country.”

“But Brenda is English. Probably her sons would
be English,” said grandmamma.

“That has nothing to say,” asserted great-grand-
mamma. “Blood is what counts, not birth. Let
us pray that the lieber Gott sends the child a good
German.”

“Have you ever been asked in marriage?” said
grandmamma, who in all she did was thorough and
methodical; and when she put her mind on a subject
would not remove it again till she knew what she
wanted.

“Oh! I suppose so,’ said Brenda, blushing.
“Tll wear my best white gown when I come to-
morrow, great-grandmamma. It came from Paris.”

“Tf you were asked, why did you not accept?” per-
sisted grandmamma. “Do you then wish to be an
old maid?”

“T haven’t made up my mind,” said Brenda. “Do
you like any color with a white gown, great-grand-
mamma ?”

“Cornflowers,” quavered = great-grandmamma,

ow
SALT OF THE EARTH 71

“With white a young girl should wear either rosebuds
or cornflowers, and you may still be called a young girl
although you have certainly left the budding age be-
hind you.”

“I have not seen any cornflowers yet,” said Brenda.
“Don’t they come in August?”

“You can get beautiful imitation ones,” said great-
grandmamma.

“What was wrong with the young man?” said
grandmamma.

It was such a difficult question to answer that Brenda
began to laugh, and that vexed her grandmother. You
see, there had been various young men of late years,
some outspoken, some indeterminately amorous, but
all hovering about the house in turn and all in turn
discouraged. Brenda did not want to be captious, but
somehow the men she happened to meet were well
enough but never touched by the magic that changes
liking into love. Except Andrew! and he had not
spoken.

“He had no money, so he could not marry,” she
blurted out, because she saw that grandmamma was
vexed, and it would not matter what she said here, far
away from everything and every one belonging to
home.

“In that case he should not have asked,” said
grandmamma decidedly. “A! young man who first
asks and then says he has no money is either a knave
or a fool.”

“But he didn’t,” cried Brenda, feeling that in spite
of herself her heart was being pinned upon her sleeve.
Those who asked I sent away, and the one who was
silent .. .”

The two old ladies looked at each other expressively.
Then one of them stroked Brenda’s hand, while the
other ambled out of the room to watch their maid pre-
pare the coffee. For in that nineteenth-century house-
hold there was no danger of getting the wishy-washy
72 SALT OF THE EARTH

tea and horrible cheap biscuits the modern German
offers you in the afternoon, and Brenda had invited
herself to coffee because, as she explained to her father,
it was safer than going to see them between meals.

“We must eat and drink there, darling,’ she ex-
plained, “and I would rather have coffee and cakes
at four than fruit tart with whipped cream the moment
after ten courses at the hotel or just before supper.”

“But you can always refuse,” said Mr. Muller; “T
do.”

“Which I’d rather eat till I bust than hurt their
feelings,” said Brenda. “Grandmamma nearly wept
yesterday because you left your chocolate cake on
your plate. She said, ‘Gustav no longer enjoys
what I bake for him. His wife is from Berlin and he
probably has a yearning for Baumkuchen!”

“Can’t you tell them that a man of my age doesn’t
eat cakes much?” said Mr. Miller, and Brenda
promised that she would put his case before them.

“I also,” crooned great-grandmamma, when her
daughter went out to the kitchen and she was left
alone with Brenda, “I also loved before I married. I
also ate my bread with tears. When I took your
great-grandfather it was because my parents wished
it; but love came later. Marry a man, my little dove,
and trust to heaven.”

Then grandmamma came in with a whole trayful:
of quite freshly baked cakes that she hoped her dear
Gustav would find to his liking; and Brenda tried to
explain that her father only ate bread and butter for
tea at home, but found, as usual, that the old ladics
could take no point of view except their own. In
England, where no one knew how to bake, the poor
man might be driven to the insipidity of bread and
butter, but in his mother’s house he should at least
have the chance of something better. So here wag
sugar-cake strewn with cinnamon, and almond pyra-
mids as luscious as new macaroons, and doughnuts «

i
SALT OF THE EARTH 73

from the pan. With which now would Brenda begin,
or, if she was not faint with hunger, should they wait
till her father came? He had promised to be here
‘punctually at four, and his mother had promised to
have the doughnuts ready for him. When he was a
boy she had frequently seen him eat a dozen.

There was a ring at the door, Mr. Miiller’s voice out-
side, another unknown louder voice, and then the
arrival in the room of Brenda’s father, unexpectedly
followed by a magnificent gray-blue officer trailing his
sword.

“I bring you my nephew, Captain Erdmann,” said
Mr. Miller.

The splendid apparition brought his heels together,
made a profound bow in the direction of the ladies
and murmured something about having the honor.

“Lothar!” cried Brenda in astonishment.

“My beautiful cousin!” said Lothar, bending deeply
over her hand and kissing it.

“If I had met you by chance, I should not have
known you,” she said,

“T should have known you anywhere,” said he
gallantly.

But Brenda, as you know, had not seen her cousin
,in uniform before, and the difference it made amazed
‘her. Every point he possessed, his fine carriage, his

ramrod back, breadth of shoulder and general look of
physical power were enhanced by what he wore, so
that the perfection of his attire became part of him,
and even supplied qualities that in civil kit had been
wanting. To-day he looked distinguished, as well as
big and strong; and his arrogance of voice and man-
ner became the signs of a caste rather than the defects
of an individual. The old ladies were childishly proud
and happy to entertain him, and Brenda was not sur-
prised when they served him with coffee before her.
In fact, such is the force of environment on some
natures that it seemed almost fitting. Was he not a
74. SALT OF THE EARTH

man and an officer, while she was merely a girl who
ought to have been married years ago, but unhappily,
in the idiom of the country, was still to be had?

“I thought you were always in Berlin,” she said to
her cousin.

“Asa rule I am in Berlin,” said he. “But just now
I’m in Mannheim.”

His eyes were fixed on Brenda with admiration. It
was three years since they had met, and he saw that
she was prettier than ever and extremely well dressed.
Unlike the two old ladies, he could appreciate the per-
fection of her clothes and the quiet self-possession of
her manner. She had taken off her coat, and he knew
enough of such things to guess that her thin white
blouse had probably cost as much as the two old ladies
spent on two or three of their serviceable stuffy alpaca
gowns maltreated by a local dressmaker. Her shoes
and her gloves were highly correct, too, and her hand-
-kerchief was as thin as a cobweb. In short, here was
a young female cousin to encourage and be proud of.

“You will come over to Mannheim, I hope?’ he
said to his uncle.

“We are coming on Saturday,” said Brenda. “We
have tickets for the opera.”

“The opera!” cried Lothar. “But J: want you to
come and see me.” j

“Brenda wishes to hear Die Meistersinger for the ‘
hundredth time,” said Mr. Miller. “With me what
Brenda wishes is law, when we are on the Bummel
together.”

“T can understand that,” said Lothar. “If my
beautiful cousin smiles, you instantly wish to do her
will.”

“T have only heard Die Meistersinger five times,”
said Brenda. “Besides, father loves it just as muck
as I do.”

“T have a brilliant idea,’ said Lothar. “Come to
Mannheim for one of your English week-end. On
SALT OF THE EARTH 75.

Saturday we will meet at the opera and on Sunday you
will be my guests. We will make an expedition.”

“T should like that,” said Brenda. “Where could
we go?”

“I will arrange everything,” said Lothar. “Will
you have supper with me after the opera, Uncle Gus-
tav? I shall be in the theater, too. Give me your
tickets and I will exchange them so that we can sit.
together.”

“When do you return to Mannheim?” said Mr.
Miller, looking a little overwhelmed by the rapidity,
of these arrangements.

Lothar hesitated a moment before he answered. He
was not obliged to be back on duty till next morning,
but he had an engagement at Mannheim for to-night
and had intended to leave Heidelberg in half an hour
in order to fulfill it.

“We are going to drive up to the Schloss to-night
and have supper there,” said Brenda.

“T had thought of doing the same,” said Lothar.
“A colossal idea. It will be cool up there. I must
just send a telegram and see about a carriage. You
are staying at the Prinz Carl, you say. Then you will
allow me to fetch you in an hour’s time. We can have
supper where my uncle pleases. But perhaps a little
walk in the woods first . . .”

“T do not like being swallowed,’ Mr. Miiller said
rather irritably when his nephew had clattered out of
the room. “My wife’s nephew is very polite, but I
prefer to make my own plans.”

“Such a handsome man,” murmured the old ladies,
“so big, so straight, so gallant. What a Bréutigam!
‘What a lover! How comes it that he is still a bachelor?
Doubtless his heart is no longer his own.”

“TI don’t see anything handsome about him,” said
Mr. Miiller. “He has a big bony frame and I hate
freckles on a red face!”

“He partook twice of my dough-cakes,” said grand-
76 SALT OF THE EARTH

mamma. “How glad I am that I baked them. Per-
haps he is not an Adonis, but he is highly refined. I
saw that he took stock of Brenda’s clothes, and I fear
that he did not admire them. He is used to Berlin
fashions, which, I am told, excel all others now.”

“Run back quickly to the hotel, little love, and put
on your best white gown, the one you promised to
wear for us to-morrow,” said great-grandmamma.
“In that plain gray cloth you cannot do yourself
justice.”

“T think I will go back to the hotel, father,” said
Brenda, getting up. “We shall both want warm
wraps to-night. It gets chilly driving.”

“Are thy wife’s relations well off, Gustav?” said
his mother when Brenda had gone on.

“T believe so,” he said. “Why do you ask?”

“Thy daughter is still very pretty and fresh,” said
great-grandmamma. _

“Still! Bless me! Brenda is only twenty-two,”
said Mr. Miiller.

“At her age thy father was four,” said great-grand-
mamma. “I married at seventeen.”

“Brenda must please herself,” said Mr. Miiller.

“Those are English ideas. I like them not. If
Brenda’s marriage is not your affair, whose is it?”

“Well! her own. Of course I want her to marry
the right man if she marries at all. Her mother tells
me she is difficult to please.”

“That is a fault, and you should reason with her
about it. My father boxed my ears when I hesitated
and called me a silly goose. He knew what was good
for me, he said. Time proved him right. Your grand-
father was all a husband should be.”

Mr. Miiller felt rather depressed by these reminis-
cences and this advice, because he never had considered
the marriage of his daughters his affair. It was a
matter for themselves and their mother in the first
place, and only came before him in the later stages
SALT OF THE EARTH 77

when the financial question had to be solved. At
least Thekla’s marriage had been arranged in this way,
and he took for granted that in due time Brenda’s
would follow. He was in no hurry.

“I hope she will marry in England as her sister has.
done,” he said, and then Lothar ruffled in again, and
the two men went to the Prinz Carl together and found
Brenda ready for them. She had not put on her white
gown, but she looked uncommonly pretty in a blue one.

The gardens of the castle were crowded with parties
of students and with townspeople, a military band
was playing, waiters were rushing heatedly to and fro,
and the clatter of voices drowned the softer strains of

.the music. Lothar’s table attracted general attention,
because there were not many officers present and be-
cause Brenda looked foreign and smart as well as
enchantingly pretty. A party of corps students cast
so many glances her way that Lothar began to take it
amiss, and after returning their glances with a furious
scowl suddenly pushed back his chair and half rose
from it with every intention of picking up a quarrel.

“What’s the matter?’ said Mr. Miiller, looking up
from the Speise-karte in surprise. “Aren’t you well?”

“Those gentlemen are annoying my cousin,” said
Lothar in a Joud voice. “I wish to point out to them
that, if they fix their eyes on her again, one of them
will answer to me for it.”

“What are they doing?” said Mr. Miiller, who sat
with his back to the offenders. He turned his head
now and saw half a dozen fat-faced students, scarred
and beefy, but apparently harmless.

Meanwhile Brenda had noticed that the young men
were staring, but merely set them down as loutish and
ill-mannered; so she got up, and before Lothar could
interfere took a chair next to her father.

“Now they can only fixir the back of my head and
you needn’t worry about that,” she said. “We wana
supper, not bloodshed.”
8 SALT OF THE EARTH

“What do you mean?” he said haughtily.

“Weren't you going to run your sword through
them? You looked like it.”

“In Germany we allow no jests about such things,”
he said. “When the honor of the army makes it
necessary we do them.”

“IT know you do,” said Brenda. ‘“That’s why I’ve
changed my seat. You needn’t glower like that,
Lothar. I will not have one of your bloodthirsty
quarrels in my presence. I should hate it, and so
would father.”

“Kalbscarbonade,” murmured Mr. Miiller, “always
Kalbscarbonade. Waiener-Schnitzel is better. Let us
have Rheinlachs and then Wiener-Schmizel. What
will you drink, nephew? I like Berncastler Doktor.”

“T want Maitrank,”’ said Brenda. “When the moon
is rising and you see the Neckar winding through
the valley below you, and you think of Heine and
storks and goblins you must certainly drink Mait-
rank.”

“You may have it,” said Mr. Miller. “TI never think
of storks and goblins and I hate sugary drinks.”

“T also,” said Lothar; “they are bad for the liver.”
VIII

OTHAR met them at the station next day, and
as his tall figure strode towards them across the
platform, admiring civilians seemed to make

way for him much as people do at a party when royal-
ties arrive. Brenda was conscious that all eyes fol-
lowed her as she walked beside her cousin to the car
he had waiting outside: a car lent him by a friend for
to-day and to-morrow, he told her. It took them to
the Pfalzer Hof, where he had engaged rooms for them
and where she found in her own room an elaborate
basket of roses and a large box of chocolates, both
with her cousin’s card attached. She thanked him for
them when they met at the theater, where he had
changed Mr. Miiller’s stalls for a box in the best part
of the house. Then the prelude to the Meistersinger
began and she leaned back to listen with rapturous
attention. When it came to an end a younger man
than Lothar entered the box and was introduced as
Lieutenant Siebert. He had an attractive boyish
face, and Brenda saw that he felt honored by being
allowed to join Lothar’s party and that- he treated
her cousin with deference as his elder and superior.
She hoped she would be able to take a short holiday
in Germany without succumbing to the magic exer-
cised by uniforms, but she recognized that her present
companions were putting a spell on her. Mr. Miiller
did not seem affected, but he was not so impressionable
as his daughter, and had always regarded Lothar with
dislike. When he got back to his hotel the other night

79
80 SALT OF THE EARTH

he had surprised Brenda by saying something that
showed he had not been so deep in the Speise-karte
as he seemed. He had known that Lothar was on the
brink of provoking a quarrel with the students, and
felt extremely angry with him for so nearly involving
Brenda in a disagreeable scene. He would have can-
celled all future engagements with him if he had
‘pleased himself, but Brenda said that she wanted to
hear Die Meistersinger and spend Sunday in the forest.
She would tell Lothar that he must not be so touchy
on her account.

“He'll be offended with you if you do. I know
the breed,” said Mr. Miiller.

“But he can’t run me through with his sword,”
said Brenda. “I’m not afraid of him.”

She wore the white gown from Paris to-night and a
row of pearls that her father had given her on her
twenty-first birthday. When she appeared in the box
every one in the theater looked at her and wondered
who she could be. The officers on either side of her
they knew, but no one knew her. She had beautiful
eyes and hair and the English manner; she was elegant
and self-composed; in fact, for a girl of her age rather
serious looking. That was evidently her father in
civil clothes and he looked English, too. Who were
they? No one knew until the curtain went down on
the first act, and then some one, meeting Lieutenant
Siebert in the corridor, discovered that the father and
daughter were from London and were called Miller,
Of German origin then? The Lieutenant supposed so,
since Captain Erdmann was the young lady’s cousin.

Meanwhile Brenda looked at the audience and
thought here, too, were signs of the old Germany, said
in England to be pushed out of existence by the new
one. On the whole, the women were as dowdy and
the men as pot-bellied as (in the language of Treva)}
they belonged to be, no one wore evening-dress, and in
the cheaper parts of the house she saw the tartan
SALT OF THE EARTH 8r

blouses fastened with brooches from Pforzheim that
tejoiced her because they were hideous and traditional
».. like pigtails and Pumpernickel. The singer who
took the part of Hans Sachs was of a breadth she had
hever imagined possible except in caricature, and
though his voice was fine his appearance spoilt her
pleasure. But when she said so the little lieutenant
looked as if he thought her blasphemous. Eva was’
a strapping wench with enormous hips and a tread
like a grenadier; and the lieutenant said that as
Gretchen she brought tears to his eyes.

“Do you think Gretchen weighed fourteen stone?”
said Brenda, but she spoke so that only her father
heard. She enjoyed the whole performance exceed-
ingly, and when they entered the restaurant at which
Lothar had ordered supper her eyes were full of the
dreamy enjoyment that lifted her spirit. This was
the best of: all possible worlds in which such music
could be easily heard and still echoed in the depths of
your soul while you fed on nectar and ambrosia in
gay surroundings.

“I do envy you,” she said to the two young men;
“any evening when you feel like it you can just walk
across the street and hear such music as we have
heard to-night.”

“Not at all,” said Lothar. “Nine times out of
ten you would find they were playing rubbish. We
have not had a Wagner night for weeks.”

“There is first-rate music in London,” said Mr.
Miller.

“But it isn’t just at the end of the road,” said
Brenda. “It isn’t daily bread with us.”

“Gnadiges Fraulein should live in Germany,” said
the little lieutenant, “then she would have music to
her heart’s content.”

Lothar said nothing, but his eyes turned again and
again to Brenda with brooding. He had ordered the
kind of supper a girl is supposed to like, a mayonnaise

3
82 SALT OF THE EARTH

of lobster, then chicken, meringues, fruit and iced
champagne; and he made a good host to-night, rather
silent but attentive. Brenda had never liked him so
much. In his own surroundings he seemed to have
dignity and weight. The deference with which he
was treated contrasted itself in her thoughts with the
want of it he must have met in England, where he
spoke with a foreign accent and wore shoddy civilian
clothes. Perhaps it was natural that he should dis-
like England, considering the disadvantages under
which he labored there. She had experienced nothing
‘corresponding to it in Germany so far. Even the
patent fact that she was English did not seem to pre-
vent any one from looking at her with approval. She
felt more conspicuously elegant and attractive in
Mannheim than she had ever done in London, where
her own appraisement of herself would have said that
she could pass in a crowd.

“You have never been in England,” she said to
the little lieutenant, who had been comparing Paris
and Berlin, greatly to the advantage of Berlin. “You
don’t know London?”

“No,” he said, “I hope to go there some day.”

He was a pleasant, guileless boy and spoke without
any double meaning, but Lothar’s laugh put a gloss
on his words.

“T’m afraid that my cousin didn’t like London,”
she said.

“On the contrary,” said Lothar, “I like it so well
that I am soon going there again.”

“Are you? When and for how long?”

“That I cannot tell you. I am under orders.”

“Have you ever been to England since you stayed
with us?”

“T was there last summer, but not in London.”

“Where were you?”

“Here and there. I traveled about,’ said Lothar,
and changed the subject by filling up his glass with
SALT OF THE EARTH 83

champagne and drinking to his beautiful cousin.

Next day he and the little lieutenant brought the
car to the hotel and took Mr. Miiller and Brenda
through part of the Bergstrasse, where Brenda again
saw those aspects of Germany that she dearly loved.
In two hours they were in the depths of the forest, far
away from the life of towns and amongst such village
scenes as she had read of in Auerbach’s novels. A
wedding procession on its way to church so thrilled her
that she wanted to alight for lunch in the village where
it had taken place and where there was evidently un-
usual life and stir. After speaking to a passer-by about
it, Lothar said he had no objection, since the bride was
an innkeeper’s daughter and there would be a wedding
dinner ready at her father’s house.

“But will they attend to us when they are so busy?”
said Brenda.

She doubted whether her cousin heard what she
said. At any rate he did not answer, but stopped the
car at the inn, clattered into the garden, chose the
best table there and ordered dinner to be served at
once. While they waited Brenda looked about her,
interested and amused. The whole place seemed to
be swarming with peasants in their best clothes, and
the little lieutenant told her that some were guests
and some had just come in a neighborly way to see
the fun and do the host a good turn by eating and
drinking at their own expense. The wedding feast
was about to begin indoors, and through the open
windows Brenda could see people assembling at a long
narrow table. In the garden two sturdy tousled young
wotnen rushed to and fro with mugs of beer, bread and
cheese, but nothing else arrived; and after waiting
twenty minutes at an empty table Lothar grew im-
patient and hammered on it loudly.

First the waitress came and then the host, and then,
as it seemed to Brenda, every one else. She felt
ashamed of the commotion their party made, of Lo-
84 SALT OF THE EARTH

thar’s brow-beating manner and of the humble terror
he inspired. The more loudly he stormed the more
anxious the people of the inn were to serve him, and
though the world stood still for every one else the two
officers and their friends got dinner in a trice. Even
the bride helped, bringing a salad, and looking de-
lighted when Lothar complimented her and promised
to drink her health. Then she looked curiously at
Brenda, and asked if she were married.

“No!” said Brenda.

“Not even betrothed?”

“No !”

“What a pity!” said the bride, and wishing them
all a good appetite, retired to her own feast, which, the
little lieutenant told Brenda, would last four or five
hours. After the feast there would be dancing till
three in the morning.

“How tired the bride will be!’ said Brenda.

“She will go home with her husband after dinner,”
said Lothar, and his eyes sought his cousin’s with
brooding. There was hesitation in them, she felt, as
if he was drawn to her, but doubted the wisdom of his
own desires. She herself felt half interested, half
afraid, but not particularly happy. If the great ad-
venture of life was on its way, it came with some for-
bidding features that gave her pause. Her heart did
not go out to Lothar as it had a year ago to Andrew
Lovel. There was no divine unselfishness about her
cousin, and she could not imagine him renouncing what
he wanted from scruple. Probably he was a smart
officer and had a career before him. He had been
well hammered and was now ready to hammer other
people. That was the impression he gave her.

After they had eaten they set forth again in the car
for a point further on, where Lothar said a walk of
about a mile would take them to a fine view on the top
of a hill and a restaurant where they could get coffee.

“Ts there a single hill in Germany without a restaur-
SALT OF THE EARTH 85

ant at the top?” said Brenda, when they alighted and
began their walk.

“If you prefer it I will take you to one where there
is none,” said Lothar. “But then, as I am not a
magician, we cannot have coffee.”

“Do you know this neighborhood well, then?”

Lothar said he knew every path, because when he
was a child the family used to come here for the sum-
mer holidays. At the top there was a large hotel as
well as a restaurant, both open from June till Septem-
ber; as it was always crowded with Berliners you
could spend a few weeks there very agreeably, being
certain beforehand of good cooking, cheerful company
and mountain air.

“When my sisters got sider, they persuaded my
father to go to Switzerland,” he said. “I never liked
that. In Switzerland it is practically impossible to
avoid English people. Here you never see one.”

“Why do you dislike us so much?” asked Brenda.

“T do not reckon you amongst them. If I did, I
should have tact enough not to speak of them. You
are German.”

“Tam not,” said Brenda.

“You cannot help it.”

“Yes, I can. It is your soul that makes you what

» you are, not the country where your parents were born.
|For that matter my father and mother are English,
too, in all their ideas and sympathies.”

“Then they are renegades.”

“T don’t agree with you. We take everything
from England, her life, her laws, her safety. Our
money is made there. Our home is there. She is our
country, and any of us young ones would die for her if
the need arose.”

“But you love Germany,” said Lothar.

“I love Heidelberg and this,” said Brenda.

They had walked some way uphill by this time, but
they had walked slowly and Mr. Miller with the little
86 SALT OF THE EARTH

lieutenant was well ahead. They were out of sight
when Lothar, arriving at a point where there was a
sign-post, took a narrow side-path instead of the main
one.

“Ts this right?” said Brenda doubtfully.

“Quite right; I shall show you the view, and then
we shall join the others.”

Sometimes Brenda wondered if the whole tenor of
her life would have been different if she had insisted
on following where her father had led; for the sign-
post pointed along the main path and said that from
here it was a quarter of an hour’s walk to the restaur-
ant. But it was an unsatisfactory subject for specula-
tion, because it could never be settled. one way or the
other. She followed her cousin, and the further they
went the more completely wood-magic cast its spell
over them. Side by side, as the path grew broader,
they walked beneath the golden shade of the great
forest trees until the silence became charged with emo-
tion and dangerous. It was not a forest with a dull
bare carpet of pine needles, but one with arf under-
growth of fern, bilberry, heather ,and wild flowers;
while below the path the land shelved a little to a
foaming stream ‘tumbling headlong over boulders.
Brenda, coming lately from London, took great joy in,
such a paradise, and her silence depended on her happy
thoughts as well as on her electric consciousness of her
cousin’s presence. She gathered a little bouquet as she
walked, but Lothar made no attempt to gather flowers
with her. He stalked on, ominously quiet and self-
centered, yet intent on her; for if she met his eyes she
saw the same sombre fire in them that she had seen last
night at the theater: a fire that both alarmed and
compelled her.

“Shall we soon get to the top?” she said.

“Very soon. Are you tired?”

“Not the least. But I don’t want the others to
think we are lost.”
SALT OF THE EARTH 87

“You need not be anxious. I told Siebert that we
should come this way and he will tell your father.”

Towards the top the trees were not as big or as dense
as they were lower down, and the path itself became
rougher, for it was not one used by the public and kept
in good repair. At last it grew so steep and broken
that it was not easy for Brenda to keep her foothold
and she had to let Lothar give her a hand. The last
step of all, over a rock, was so difficult that he had to
help her from above with both hands, and as he pulled
her into safety beside him he held her closely to him.
His grip was like iron, but his face was pale and his
voice had lost its usual harshness when he spoke.

“Little cousin!” he said. “I love you.”

Brenda did not know what to say. She was out of
breath because the steepness and difficulty of that last
step had been considerable. She would have said it
could not be done if Lothar had not stood inexorably
above, taking for granted that when he held out his
hands she would obediently seize them. It seemed
to her that in the great issue he was doing just the
same. He held out his hands, and she had only to put
her own in them to be carried where he led. But did
she want to be carried? Would she not rather walk

..on her own feet even if she stumbled?

“Little cousin!” he said again. “Why are you
silent? I am asking you to be my bride—my bride
and my wife.”

“I’m trying to think,” said Brenda.

“Kiss me instead,” said Lothar, and, stooping down,
he kissed her, not with an alarming violence, which
would probably have settled the question against him,
but with a deliberate restraint that she appreciated.

“T’m not in love with you,” she said plainly.

“T am with you. That is the important point.”

“Why ?”?

“A man should love before marriage. A woman
loves after.”
88 SALT OF THE EARTH

“T have heard that said. I am not sure that I
believe it.”

“You cannot know anything about it. You need
not think about it. Let me think for you in this.
Say ‘Yes,’ little cousin, and find out what it means to
be loved.”

In this supreme moment of decision Brenda, to her
surprise, felt no strong call either to her cousin or away +
from him. He wantedher with every fibre of his body.
She guessed that by his white face and passionate
voice: which only moved her to perplexity. Perhaps,
as he said, love would come to her with that mysterious
fuller knowledge life brings to married women. He
seemed content to trust to that.

“Ts it ‘Yes,’ little cousin?” he asked again.

She looked round her at the heaven in the forest, at
the afternoon lights slanting through the trees, and at
the peat-colored stream dashing itself into foam over
titanic rocks.

“This is Germany!’ she cried. “I’m English and
yet I adore Germany. I should like to live in an old

_ gabled house that has low eaves and a ‘stork’s nest
on the roof.”

Lothar smiled, because in his ears what she said
was rather indelicate. In Germany the stork brings
the baby, and no well-conducted German girl would
allude to this domestic bird at the moment of betrothal ’
when the female mind is supposed to be in moonlight
regions, unreal and rapturous.

“Tt is ‘Yes,’”’ he cried in triumph, and this time
there was less discretion in his kisses.

“Come,” he said with decision. “We will seek
your father and tell him. He will be pleased, I am
sure.”

Brenda was far from sure, and her silence led her
cousin to expatiate on what he had said.

“There are many more women than men in the
world,” he pointed out. “Therefore it is always a
SALT OF THE EARTH 89

relief to a family when a daughter makes a good mar-
riage. I promise you that your father will be satisfied
with what I have to offer. I do not depend on my
profession or even entirely on my father’s allowance.
I have an income of five thousand marks that an old
aunt left me some years ago. But I am sure that
money possesses no interest for my little bride except
when she wishes to buy herself a new dress. She will
be thinking of her bridal nest in Berlin henceforward,
but not of the ways and means to line it. Business
matters are best left to men, and I blame myself for
mentioning them.”

“I was not thinking of money,” said Brenda. “I
don’t suppose my father will mind much if you are not
well off. But he will not want me to go out of
England. I wonder at myself for being able to do it.
Suppose I am homesick?”

“T cannot suppose anything so absurd,” said Lothar
loftily. ‘“In future, wherever I am will be your home.”

“It has turned quite chilly,” said Brenda, for a few
steps had taken them to the top of the hill, from which,
as Lothar had promised, there was a fine view of plain
and forest. But the glory of the day had departed,
the sunset was cloudy, and a little breeze was astir on
these heights, threatening rain.

“We will walk quickly and you shall lean on my
arm,” said Lothar. “Then I shall know that if you
stumble in the twilight made by the forest you will not
fall.”

Brenda took his arm, and found, as she expected,
that to do so impeded her progress. She could have
managed the well-kept level woodland path better by
herself. However, it seemed to please him to give her
a protection she did not need, and she supposed philo-
sophically that the whole attitude of men to women is
supported by such conventions. She knew that in
Germany the conventional attitude was firmly pre-
served in all the relations of life, and that she would
90 SALT OF THE EARTH

probably have to submit to it in marriage. The idea
was not altogether pleasing, for though she had a
gentle nature she was used to think for herself and go
her own way. Perhaps she would have to assert
herself on occasion. She hoped not, for with a man
of Lothar’s temper contradiction would certainly lead
to scenes; and Brenda knew herself well enough to
know that she was a coward about scenes. She was
not used to them and hated even a mild one.

The betrothed pair did not talk much as they made
their way through the wood, and it crossed Brenda’s
mind whimsically that perhaps Lothar was repenting
of what he had done; but when he spoke there was
no sign of this.

“Little cousin!” he said as they came in sight of
the restaurant. ‘Sweet little bride! I have a request
to make. Speak not to Siebert of storks.”

“Of storks!” echoed Brenda. “Why should I speak
to Lieutenant Siebert of storks?”

“I know not. I only warn you that in Germany a
young and modest bride does not allude to storks.”

Then from the back of beyond in Brenda’s memory
came understanding and amusement. Instead of being
covered with maidenly confusion she laughed—laughed
at her bridegroom, Lothar.

“T’ll remember,” she said gayly, for if she felt vexed
with herself and him she would not show it. Of course
she understood. Storks are connected with babies,
and in a world of convention you must not admit the
existence of babies one moment, though you are con-
sidered unwomanly the next if you do not adore them.

“Have your sisters any children?” she asked, feeling
that he was a little annoyed and wishing to placate
him.

“My youngest sister, Mina, has four. On the last
occasion the stork presented her with twins. In that
household it was not an unmixed blessing.”

“She is the one who married a professot.”
SALT OF THE EARTH g1

“Yes. My sisters are older than I am, and I am
sorry to say have both married civilians.”

“Don’t you like civilians?”

“T naturally prefer my own caste. But I realize
that a nation must have civilians to carry on trade and
do other work.”

“Whom did your elder sister, Elsa, marry?”

Lothar hesitated a moment.

“When you come to Berlin you will have to know
it,” he said. “Elsa’s husband is a Jew.”

Brenda felt that the proper answer to his tone
would have been “How dreadful!” but she did not
make the proper answer. ,

“Don’t you like Jews?” she said.

“T have no intercourse with them,” Lothar said
haughtily. “I am glad to say that there are none in
my regiment.”

“But I suppose you see your brother-in-law?”

“When it is necessary.”

“You seem to be very exclusive in Berlin,” said
Brenda.

“We are,” said Lothar.
1X

SHALL not ask your father for you now,”

Lothar murmured, as they got close to the

restaurant. “I shall call on him to-morrow
morning.”

“But we are going back to Heidelberg by an early
train,’ said Brenda.

“Can you not point out that a later one would be
more convenient?”

“T should have to give a reason.”

“T. have no objection to that. He will be the less
surprised when I appear.”

It is most difficult for a person who is critical but
not self-assertive to stand up to any one as certain of
himself as Lothar. Brenda knew that in his own
opinion the uniform he wore, his worldly possessions,
and his personal efficiency made him a match any

Y girl ought to accept with delight; and that practically
every girl in his own country would indorse his view.
He would appear, as he said, before her father, not
as a suppliant, but as a bringer of good tidings, sure
of his welcome.

“He may refuse,” she said from the depths of her
meditation. Lothar stood still.

“Refuse! Why should he refuse?” he cried with
such thunderous anger in his voice that Brenda wished
she had not roused it. “Am I perhaps not good
enough?” and it seemed to Brenda that his hand
went swiftly to his sword; but it was half dark and
she might have been mistaken.

92
SALT OF THE EARTH 93

“He is wedded to England,” she said pacifically.

“Then let him cleave to England. But you will
be wedded to me. You have given me your word.
A woman of our race does not go back from it.”

He stalked on, emerging from the dusk of the
woodland path into the sunset lights of the late sum-
mer afternoon; and Brenda walked beside him, no
longer free. Her heart went out to her father with’
a warmth that under the circumstances was disquieting.
‘A girl who has just promised herself in marriage
ought not to be so extraordinarily glad to see her
father unless there is a corresponding gladness in her
soul about the future. But the future veiled itself
when Brenda looked ahead. She saw nothing but the
tall rigid figure of Lothar clothed in bluish gray,
carrying a sword.

“T want to speak to you, father,” she said when they
got back to the hotel and were by themselves. “Come
into my room. There is a comfortable chair there.”

“Do you mind if I smoke?” said Mr. Miller,
following her.

To his surprise and perturbation, instead of answer-
ing his question in a reasonable way, Brenda, after
shutting the door, threw her arms round his neck and
kissed him as if she had not seen him for several
weeks; as if, for instance, he had just come back
from a long business journey when a man expects his
women folk to receive him with a little extra warmth
and his Liebspiese for dinner.

“What is it then, Brenda?” he said, disengaging
himself. “What is it, my child?”

“Oh! Father, I’m going to be married,” cried
Brenda.

Mr. Miiller looked neither surprised nor pleased, but
unusually serious; and he didn’t speak.

“You guess who it is,” said Brenda.

“Naturally I guess,” said Mr. Miller. “I cannot
suppose that you are going to marry the little lieu-
94 SALT OF THE EARTH

tenant, although of the two men we have been with
to- -day I greatly prefer him.”
“You don’t like Lothar?”
“TJ. am sure that he is a good officer.”
“That means certain valuable qualities.”
“Undoubtedly.”

. Brenda, who was still standing beside her father,
gave a little sigh.

“Grandmamma and great-grandmamma will be de-
lighted,” she pointed out. “They consider him a sort
of Olympian god.”

“I wish your mother was here,” said Mr. Miller.
“T have always thought a great deal of her opinion.”

“But, father! There is nothing against Lothar,
is there?”

“Nothing whatever! He has some money and a
sufficiently good position. Your sister married a
poorer man.’

He waited a little, weighing his words; and then
he added: “But I was better pleased.”

“He is coming to see you to-morrow morning,”
said Brenda. “He wants us to take a later train so
that you can receive him.”

“Why can’t he come to Heidelberg to see me?”

“He is tied here most of the week. He works very
hard.”

' “Then Jet him wait till he is not tied. What is he
doing here in Baden? His regiment is in Berlin,
isn’t it? What was he doing in England last summer?
Why didn’t he come to see us?”

“He is not a man who talks about his work,” said
Brenda. “You know that officers are seconded some-
times and sent on this and that errand. You know
that Jack was sent to Germany last year and Dendy
has been to India.”

“Well . . . I don’t see why we should alter our
plans. There is no hurry, is there?”

“T suppose he thinks there is.”
SALT OF THE EARTH 95

In the end the young people had their way. Mr.
Miiller agreed to take an afternoon train back to
Heidelberg and to see Lothar when he caine at midday
to make his formal offer of marriage. He spent an
anxious hour before his nephew arrived, because he
did not want Brenda to marry this man and knew of
no way to prevent it. From a worldly point of view
the alliance was suitable, and none of his reasons
against it were of the kind that are valuable in argu-
ment. However, he resolved to do his best with one
or two of them. He could not speak his mind. He
could not say to Lothar, “I consider you an arrogant,
hostile alien, with truculent manners and a bad temper,
and I wish my daughter would not marry you.” That
is no doubt what he felt, but he felt it inexpressively,
as rather simple-minded men do feel what is wrong
with others. His objection to Lothar was not
founded on what he called facts, because in his opinion
you must be able to touch a fact or at any rate
produce it in a court of law. Unfortunately, Lothar’s
facts were not all of this patent kind.

“Brenda has told you of my errand,” he said, as
he sat down opposite Mr. Miller and observed that he
looked glum.

“Yes. She has told me,” said Mr. Miller. “It
is a matter about which I should like to consult my
wife.”

Lothar stared in surprise.

“T have come here to ask you for the hand of your
daughter,” he said stiffly. “I am in a position to
marry. I have a private income of £250 a year,
besides an allowance from my father, and when my
parents die I shall have a great deal more. My
position in the army will give my wife a better position
socially than any marriage in the commercial or
professional world could do. We shall live in Berlin,
the most agreeable and cultured capital in Europe.
I cannot imagine on what subject you require your
96 SALT OF THE EARTH

wife’s advice. Brenda and I understand each other,
and there are no material obstacles in the way of our
happiness.”

“Have you reflected that, if you marry Brenda,
you marry an Englishwoman?” said Mr. Miller.

“When she marries she will be a German. <A
woman takes her husband’s nationality. Besides, if
blood counts, she is German now.”

“T should say that she is English with every breath
of her body. All my children are.”

“Yet she is called Miiller.”

“The English Ambassador is called Goschen. The
Austrian Ambassador is Bunsen. England makes
many men her own.” ;

“Can you explain it?”

“It would take a long time,” said Mr. Miiller, and
did not begin. His thoughts just then were fixed on
his responsibility to his child and his fears for her
happiness.

“IT suppose Brenda will bring something to the
exchequer,” said Lothar, breaking in on the older
man’s reverie. “You will give her a dowry?”

“Brenda will have ten thousand pounds. That is
what I give each child at marriage. It is put into

. settlement in the English way.”

“In Germany the income is paid to the husband,”

ead. Lathes

“Thekla’s income is paid to her,” said Mr. Miiller.

“But a system of that kind might lead to dissension
between a husband and wife. I do not approve of
at,

“Then marry a German,” said Mr. Miiller.

Lothar felt that his reception was not what his
deserts led him to expect, and his manner became less
conciliatory.

“Brenda said you would not rejoice over my
proposal,” he said; “she did not explain why. Nor
do you. I suppose you wish your daughter to marry?”
SALT OF THE EARTH 97

“Tf it is for her happiness.”

“She will be happy with me. Why not?”

In Mr. Miiller’s opinion the young man’s tone was
offensively condescending and.superior. He knew
that from Lothar’s point of view his own civil calling
and civil clothes placed him at an enormous disadvan-
tage, but as he did not share his nephew’s point of
view he felt exasperated.

. “TI have told you why not as well as I can,” he
said. “If Brenda really wishes to marry you, I shall
not refuse my consent; but I shall give it unwillingly.
I would rather keep her in England.”

“T should like to see Brenda,” replied Lothar.
“She gave me her word yesterday. I shall hold her
to it if I can.”

“Why are you so anxious to marry her?”

“T am passionately in love with her,” said Lothar.

That crude inquiry and that elemental confession
seemed to clear the air. From the young man’s
armor of conceit and pride there peeped a human
quality that might regenerate him. If Brenda loved
him, perhaps she might both bear with him and im-
prove him. Mr. Miller, having no valid objections
to bring forward, felt driven to yield. This pretender
to the hand of his child was sober, prosperous, of good

report, sound in mind and body, and presumably °

agreeable to her. What could a beleaguered father
do but give his blessing to a union he nevertheless
distrusted and disliked?

“Tf Brenda insists on keeping her word she shall
do it,” he said slowly. “But if she has changed her
mind she shall go free. I will find out if she wishes
to see you, but I shall tell her to do exactly as she
pleases.”

He went out of the room and found Brenda upstairs,
contemplating an arrangement in red and white roses
of two large intertwined hearts which had just been
sept to her from a florist’s shop accompanied by

~~
98 SALT OF THE EARTH

Lothar’s card. Mr. Miller looked at the flowers and
then at his daughter.

“He wishes to see you,” he said.

“Have you settled anything?”

“I have settled that you are to do as you please.
If you regret having given him your promise, you
must say so without fear, in my presence. I am not
‘going to have you bullied into marrying him.”

“T don’t think he has deserved that,” said Brenda.
“T believe he is in love with me.”

“T believe that, too, but love is not always enough.”

“T thought it was.”

“Well... there are different kinds. Besides,
some last and some don’t. There is a good deal of
wear and tear even in a happy marriage.”

“You and mother don’t wear and tear each other.”

“TI wish your mother was here,” said Mr. Miiller.

“T’ll see Lothar,” said Brenda, and went down ts
her cousin by herself.

The result was what might have been expected.
Two agitated young people appeared before him half
an hour later and told him that they had decided
finally to take each other for better, for worse. Lothar
was so patently in love and-in such a good humor
that he made a better impression on Mr. Miiller than
he had ever done before, and Brenda assured her
father in an aside that she would find her happiness
in making a man who adored her happy. There was
not much time for doubts or further discussion.
Lothar gave them a sybarite lunch and after lunch
took Brenda to a jeweler’s, where he bought her two
rings, one of plain gold and one set with diamonds.

“With the gold one I shall wed thee, dearest heart,”
he whispered. “I know that in England you will
wear the diamond one as the sign of our betrothal.”

It was when Brenda got back to Heidelberg that
afternoon that the full glory of her position became
plain to her. Grandmamma and great-grandmamma
SALT OF THE EARTH 99

rejoiced over her as if her news opened the gates of
Paradise. They were moved to tears and then to
laughter and then to tears again. They admired the
diamond ring, but they did not approve of it as an
emblem. They wanted Brenda to wear the plain
- gold one on her left hand till her wedding-day, when
her bridegroom with the benediction of the Church
would transfer it to the right, the proper place for a
legitimately married wife to wear it. They wished
Brenda could be married in Heidelberg, so that her
man could meet her at the altar in his uniform; though
they hastened to add that even in civil clothes Lothar
would always cut a fine figure. How fortunate that
Brenda had come to Germany and met her cousin
again. What pleasure the news would give her
mother! They were surprised to hear that Mr.
Miiller had not telegraphed, but was going to write.
Such deliberation seemed cold-blooded. They im-
plored Brenda to stay on in Heidelberg, get her bride-
groom to come over again and be entertained together
by those wreaths and poems and feasting; that a
betrothed pair in Germany expects of its family and
friends. But Mr. Miiller could not wait on in Heidel-
berg and did not dream of leaving Brenda behind him.
He had to be back in London, he said, and his wife
would be anxious to see her daughter after getting
the news.

“But when will the happy bride become a happy
wife?” asked grandmamma. “It is a pity that she
must pass her bride-time so far from her beloved, and
in a foreign land.”

“When two hearts have found each other distance
matters not,’ said great-grandmamma. “Put no
thoughts of sadness into the child’s head, Bertha.
He has chosen her. How can she be sad knowing
that she is his bride? The time will pass quickly till
he goes to claim her, for she must be busy with her
needle from morning till night. Even if her mother
100 SALT OF THE EARTH

has stores of linen ready for her, there will be the
wedding-gown to make and perhaps the veil to em-
broider.”

“T should like to give Brenda the big tablecloth
and the twenty-four napkins belonging to it for which
you spun the thread before your own wedding,” said
grandmamma. “They are as good as new and we

never use them. Brenda can embroider her own initials.

after yours and mine on them.”

“T should also like to give Brenda the lace that I
wore on my wedding-day,” said great-grandmamma,
“My father bought it for my mother in Brussels after
the battle of Waterloo.”

Dear grandmamma and_ great-grandmamma!
Brenda bid them good-bye with tender affection and
regret, and wondered whether it was just the lapse
of years that separated her from them. Their senti-
ments were so simple, their claims on life so small,
and their virtuous days so contented. She was too
modern to follow them and too thoughtful to call
their lives empty; for how can lives be empty that
are filled to overflowing with happiness and affection?
Brenda had not made up her mind about the great
problems of life with all the assurance usual to her
years, but she was inclined to think that the Blue Bird
cannot be bought or bullied or deceived. It comes,
it goes, it eludes, it loves the rich as well as the humble,
it only flutters near some natures too complex to hold
it fast. She had hitherto been happy, she supposed,
in a quiet everyday fashion, but was she going to be
henceforward? She did not find that looking at her
golden ring reassured her as completely as it did the
bride in the poem, but she tried to believe that her
doubts and fears were common to girls who have been
snatched aloft as if by a whirlwind and then set down
in the flats of life again until it is time for the
whirlwind to reappear.

Mrs, Miiller received her daughter with affectionate
SALT OF THE EARTH IO

sympathy, and said nothing to show that she disap-
proved of her engagement to Lothar. She evidently
expected Uncle Wilhelm to raise difficulties, but when
letters from Berlin arrived they were not as disagree-
able as they might have been. Herr Erdmann said
that his son was old enough to know his own mind,
and that if he chose to marry a foreigner no one could
prevent it. He even admitted that Lothar might have
made a worse choice, as at any rate Brenda had been
brought up by a German mother and must be ex-
pected to possess some of the virtues the women of
his race monopolized. He proposed to come over
with his wife for the wedding, and promised to present
the young couple with the silver spoons and forks
necessary to their comfort. His wife wrote, too, and
hoped that when Brenda ordered her trousseau she
would remember where her future home would be,
and not fill her trunks with décolletée dresses she
‘could never wear. Berlin was now the most elegant
and luxurious city in the world, but it would never
throw back to the ridiculous English fashion of putting
on a ball costume in order to eat sausage and salad
for supper. Frau Erdmann also took for granted
that Lothar had come to some agreement with his
uncle about the furniture. The household linen Brenda
would, of course, bring with her, for, lost to Germany
as the family was, it must still be known to them
that wherever the German eagle spreads its wings the
bride provides the linen.

“Did Lothar come to an agreement with you about
the furniture?’ asked Brenda, rather depressed by
the tone of both letters.

“No,” said Mr. Miller, “but I shall not haggte
with them. In Germany the-bride usually furnishes
the house and always provides the linen.”

“But what happens when the man has money and
the girl has none?”

“The marriage doesn’t happen as a rule.”
102 ' SALT OF THE EARTH

“They don’t seem over-pleased about Lothar and
me,” said Brenda. “I suppose they wanted him to
marry a German.”

“No doubt,” said Mr. Miller.

“You must become as German as you can,” said
Mrs. Miller.

“But I should like to make my house as English as
possible,” said Brenda. “Can I get my furniture:
here?”

It was settled that she could and she wrote to tell
Lothar that she was choosing everything for their
future home in London and that she wished he could
come over and help her. He answered rather unami-
ably that in his opinion furniture could be bought
better in Berlin than in London, as all the newest and
Most artistic designs were to be found there; but
that if Brenda, whose father was paying for the stuff,
wished to buy articles lacking in taste and novelty she
must choose them without him. He would only get
four weeks’ leave, and did not dream of wasting any
of it in furniture shops. He proposed to arrive two
days before the marriage, and hoped to find everything
would be in order for the civil ceremony, which in his
opinion was more important than the theatrical re-
ligious one to which women attached weight. Brenda
did not show this letter to anybody, but she went
about the business of choosing her furniture with a’
subdued air that Violet who usually went with her,
noticed.

“She doesn’t feel a bit as I did when I married
you,” she said to Jem. “She isn’t bubbling over with
joy and excitement.”

“I can’t think what possesses her to do it,” said
Jem, who had heard of his sister’s engagement with
amazement and thought of her marriage with concern.

“T believe she is in love with an idea,” said Violet,
“a childish romantic idea of Germany. She always
has been. She sees it as a country of moonshine and
SALT OF THE EARTH 103

fairy tales and adorable simplicity. Brenda is a
darling, you know, Jem; but she hasn’t cut her
wisdom teeth yet. Why didn’t she marry Andrew?”

“Did he ask her?”

“T’ve no idea. He may have thought that as he
had no money .. .”

“But were they in love with each other?”

“Yes. They were.”

“How do you know?”

“T knew that night when Brenda came out into the
garden to meet us. Any one not blind as a bat could
see. Mother saw plainly.”

“Then why is Andrew such a silly ass? Why
did he go to New Zealand?”

“How could he marry, Jem, on an uncertain
hundred a year? He was quite right, and yet I
wish...”

“So do I,” said Jem; “I’ve no faith in this
fellow.”

“T’ve not even seen his photograph, and Brenda
tells me nothing. What kind is he?”

“A kind I can’t stick,” said Jem with that inability
to give reasons for his likes and dislikes that simplifies
and blights discussion.

Brenda tried not to think of Andrew nowadays,

_but her thoughts were not always obedient. She
‘wondered whether, when he heard of her marriage,
he would heave a sigh or whether his silence had meant
that he was not sure of himself. It was fatally easy
not to be sure of yourself just when you ought to be.
Brenda looked at the future with considerable mis-
givings and wished that Yes did not mean so much in
some cases. She liked the idea of going to Germany
for a long time and of making an interior that should
have all the charm of both countries. She liked the
prospect of German opera and German chamber-
music all the year round, she looked forward to Jong
dreamy summers in quaint old-world forest villages
104 SALT OF THE EARTH

where geese waddled along dusty roads and young
storks looked wisely from their nests on high church
towers. She pictured a German winter as a glittering
carnival of snow and sleighs and clear frosty air, with
an interlude of Christmas trees and queer-shaped
Christmas sweets and cakes. All this she would enjoy.
But would she enjoy the constant companionship and
domination of Lothar? Would his passion for her
so transmute his nature that he would become for-
bearing and sympathetic? If not, what would her
life be? for though she hated quarrels she loved
independence and had been used to it, especially
independence of thought and feeling.

“T suppose that in marriage there must be give
and take,” she said to her mother one day. “I suppose
that imperceptibly you grow towards each other and
hardly know whose influence is paramount.”

“In a happy marriage it must be so,’ said Mrs.
Miller.

“An unhappy marriage must be unbearable,” said
Brenda.
x

OTHAR wrote to Brenda twice a week. His

letters were full of his burning love and his

impatience for their marriage. They were a
great support to Brenda, because she felt sure that
love begets love. At least she tried to feel sure. She
had no time for prolonged qualms about the future.
In six weeks she had to buy a trousseau of German
size and thoroughness, choose furniture for her new
home and help with the arrangements for her wedding.
From morning till night she was in shops, in fitting-
rooms or at the writing-table. It was amusing till
it became oppressive; but by the time she longed
for a day’s rest she could not get it. So when she
put on one of her new gowns to meet Lothar and his
parents at Charing Cross she perceived that she looked
paler and thinner than usual. Nevertheless, as she
waited on the platform with her father, she was a
conspicuously elegant and charming figure, for she
knew how to wear her clothes, how to do her hair
and how to put on a hat and veil. She wore a dark
blue coat and skirt with a little embroidered waistcoat
that genius had designed. Above the waistcoat you
‘saw a little of her fine lace blouse and the row of pearls
her father had given her on her birthday. Her hat
was slightly tilted and had no trimming but a prancing
note of interrogation and a veil. She wore pale gray
gloves and very good gray suéde shoes. Her sunshade
was one of her wedding-presents and had a costly

105
106 SALT OF THE EARTH

handle of real jade. In fact, she looked like London,
the London that in its own way knows as well as
Paris or Vienna how to dress itself; and the com-
bined effect of what she wore was quiet but rather
worldly. She did not look in the least like her
thoughts, which were anxious and shrinking; and
her father had no idea that she was in two minds
whether to stay and face the music or run away and’
hide till the guests they were to meet had departed
again. But it is easier to think of hiding than to do
it, and at any rate Brenda, who hated scenes and
fusses, could not bring herself to go. She stayed
silently beside her father, looking rather white and
feeling rather depressed.

“There they are!” said Mr. Miller, when the train
moved slowly in, and Brenda followed him to the
carriage from which Lothar, in civil clothes, was
helping a tall, stout elderly woman wearing a shiny
alpaca traveling cloak and an impossible hat several
sizes too small for her and unsuitably saucy in shape.
Behind her came Uncle Wilhelm, and he had not
altered at all, for he arrived in England as he had left
it three years ago, out of temper.

Directly Lothar saw Brenda he kissed her as warmly
as you can kiss any one through a veil, and then,
keeping her hand tightly in his, turned to his mother
and said— :

“Little Mamma, I bring thee my beloved bride.”

With quite unreasonable intensity, Brenda felt that
she did not want to be brought. She hated shiny
alpaca coats, and the woman appraising her with a
chilly eye looked like a mountain of all the disagree-.
able virtues. She looked like her ungracious letters
and like Uncle Wilhelm’s trumpet blasts when he blew
praises of her thrift and industry.

“I hope you have had a pleasant journey?” said
Brenda.

“We have had a most unpleasant one,” snapped
SALT OF THE EARTH 107

Frau Erdmann. “Have you not observed that there
is a wind?” i

“In London . . .” began Brenda.

“I have only just arrived in London. We have
been on the sea, and when the wind blows the English.
Channel is rough.”

“TI suppose it is.”

“And when the sea is rough I am sick.”

“T’m so sorry,’ murmured Brenda. “Was Uncle.
Wilhelm sick too?”

“Of course he was sick. Don’t you see how green:
he looks? We both suffer with our stomachs, which
are not normal.”

By this time Uncle Wilhelm was ready to turn his
attention to Brenda, while Mr. Miller and Lothar
went off with a porter to get the luggage. Lothar was
to sleep at Jem’s house in Kensington Square, but
it had been arranged that he was to dine in Avenue
Road to-night in order to see as much as he could of
Brenda. Jem had promised to fetch him in his car
after dinner.

“You are paler and thinner than you were three
years ago,” said Herr Erdmann. “I suppose it is
London life that destroys a girl’s bloom at an early
age. In this light I should take you for at least.
twenty-five.”

Brenda could not think of anything to say in answer,
so she changed the subject.

“T’m sorry you've had a rough crossing,” she began.

‘Don’t speak of it,” said Uncle Wilhelm with a
shudder. ‘My stomach is not normal. It will take
me several days to recover, and then it will be time
to go back. I should not have come, but my wife
insisted. She has the intellect of a man, but where:
Lothar is concerned she is wax. I only hope that you
will be able to conquer her lifelong antipathy to
everything English.”

Brenda hoped so, too, but felt uncertain. Frau
108 SALT OF THE EARTH

Erdmann showed no sign of thawing to her son’s
Braut on the way home, but leaned back in the car
with her eyes shut while she gave vent to inarticulate
sounds suggestive of internal sufferings. When she
got to Avenue Road her large presence seemed to fill
the hall and overwhelm the slight trim figure of her
hostess, who listened with a polite but twinkling eye
to the narrative of her sister-in-law’s Odyssey. The
train had been overcrowded, sleep had been impossible,
food uneatable, dust phenomenal, heat unbearable,
and the waves of the Channel mountains high. But
these were trials that sank to nothing in comparison
with what they had endured at Dover, where they
had been unable to procure strong bouillon although
every intelligent person knew that after a sea journey
strong bouillon was necessary even to normal stomachs.
What then must the absence of it inflict on those whose
digestive organs were abnormally sensitive and deli-
cate.

“Perhaps you would like to go to bed instead of
coming down to dinner?” said Mrs. Miller with the
best intentions.

“T should not like it at all,” said Frau Erdmann
angrily. “I know that in England hospitality is not
understood as we understand it; but I suppose that
after traveling day and night to see you I may be
allowed something to eat. Otherwise we will go
straight to an hotel.” _

“Do not get so excited, Sophie,” interposed her
husband. “Of course, you will have something to
eat in my sister’s house. You will feel much better
after a good dinner.”

“A strong bouillon is all I require,’ announced
Frau Erdmann, and waddled upstairs to the room
appointed to her. There was a little trouble about
an open window and an insufficiency of pillows and
eiderdowns which Mrs. Miiller soon set right, and
then there was peace in the house till the dinner-gong
SALT OF THE EARTH 109

sounded. This brought the Erdmanns straight into
the dining-room, while the Miillers innocently waited
for them in the drawing-room, and when they met
Frau Erdmann was in a state of offence again. She
had not been told to go first to the drawing-room, she
said, and she could not be expected to guess that even
in England anybody was ridiculous enough to enter
one room when the business of the moment was to eat
in another. Such ways might be very well at court,
but not in a plain burgher household, and at her age
she could not be troubled to observe them. She had
her own ideas of what was sittlich and did not require
any lessons in behavior from a country that had the
most dirty and ignorant working classes in the world.
She had asked for strong bouillon, but this soup was
made with cream and therefore <msuitable to her
digestion. She would wait for the fish, although
she regretted that it was to be sole and not salmon.
She thought that in England people could offer their
guests salmon without any undue strain on their
pockets, but no doubt she was mistaken, since it was
not forthcoming; for Marie must know that Wilhelm
ate salmon with enthusiasm.

So the dinner proceeded, and Brenda observed that
both her uncle and aunt ate largely, although they
criticized everything except the wine, which was,
German. At dessert they drank port, but complained »
that it was heavy and probably bad for the liver.
After dinner Frau Erdmann said that the English
climate was very damp and chilly, and that unless
Marie lighted a fire she would probably spend the
night screaming with rheumatism. She said this as
the three ladies moved towards the drawing-room
where a fire was burning; and though the sight of it
cheered her, she reflected, as she sat down beside it,
that in a plain burgher household fires in August
were extravagant.

“If you bring these ideas with you, my poor son
110 SALT OF THE EARTH

will be ruined,” she said to Brenda, who had knelt
down beside the fire and put on a log from a basket
close by.

“T suppose I shall have to get used to stoves,” said.
Brenda.

“They are more agreeable and more practical,” said
Frau Erdmann. “This kind of grate gives the mini-
mum of warmth with the maximum of dirt. It would
‘not suit us. We like cleanliness and comfort.”

“When I got the news of Lothar’s engagement I
became unconscious,” she continued, turning to Mrs.
Miller. “Never! Never! I murmured to my daugh-
ters, who were both supporting me. Lothar cannot
have chosen an Englishwoman.”

“Don’t you like Englishwomen?” asked Brenda.

“What is there to like in them? I have seen
tundreds abroad and they are all exactly the same.
They dress abominably and get hot over games and
behave as if the world belongs to them. They have
no Kultur.”

Brenda looked at her future mother-in-law and
tried to understand the state of mind of a woman
who, looking as she did and behaving as she did, could
still talk of manners and civilization. Frau Erdmann
wore a high-necked brown satin gown trimmed with _
Paisley embroideries and grotesquely cut in a clumsy |
caricature of the prevailing mode. It had no doubt
cost a good deal, for the satin was of a heavy quality,
but it was conspicuously ugly and unbecoming. So
was the lady’s coiffure; for she wore her thin sandy
hair in smooth early Victorian wings over her ears,
while at the top of her head she had a coil of false
plaits that did not pretend to match. She wore a
heavy watch chain, a valuable diamond brooch and
gold bangles; and her large solid linen handkerchief
would have covered a good-sized sofa cushion. She
had satin shoes that went well with her gown, but
did not go well with thick hand-knitted gray stockings.
SALT OF THE EARTH 11

She explained, however, that she possessed silk stock-
ings, but could not venture to wear them in this damp
climate; and she added that, in her opinion, health
was more important than elegance.

“T should think that you often catch cold,” she
said, looking with disfavor at Brenda’s pretty baie
neck.

“I am bringing mostly high gowns with me,” said
Brenda. “I suppose I shall want one of this kind
sometimes.”

“You will want one for large ceremonious dinners
or for balls. Not otherwise. I told you so in my first
letter. If you appeared like this in Berlin at a famliy
party, everyone would laugh.

“Would they?”

“Naturally. What else could they do? To me
your appearance is ridiculous.”

“Would you like to see Brenda’s presents?” said
Mrs. Miller.

“Where are they?”

“In the billiard room.”

“Then I would rather see them a little later. At
present I prefer to sit quite still and converse agree-
ably. It is necessary to the digestion. What kind of
entertainment are you giving to-morrow evening?”

“We are not giving an entertainment at all,” said
Mrs, Miller. “We are going to dine at.my son’s
house, but it will only be a family party.”

“Do you mean to say that you have no Polter-
abend, no festivities on the night before your daugh-
ter’s wedding, no poems written by members of the
family, nothing acted, nothing sung. . .”

“Nothing at all,” said Brenda. “Will Lothar be
dreadfully disappointed?”

“For Lothar I cannot speak. He perhaps knows
what to expect. But when I think of Elsa’s Polter-
abend and even of Mina’s! They were brilliant
affairs, I can assure you. Even in Berlin they excited
£12 SALT OF THE EARTH

attention. After all, when a daughter marries one
exerts oneself a little. At least it is so with us. But
every land has its own customs. Does it not alarm
you, Brenda, to reflect that on the day after to-morrow
you will become the wife of a German officer?”

_ Brenda thought that Frau Erdmann had a knack
of asking questions it was difficult to answer. In
some of its aspects she would not dwell on her mar-
riage at all, because the only way to go through with it
was to keep her mind a blank; but it had not occurred .
to her to feel afraid of her future position or to regard
it as in any way a brilliant one.

“My sister has married an English officer,” she.
said. “They are very happy.”

“The officers of the German army are not toy sol-
diers like yours,” said Frau Erdmann. “Besides,
their position is different. They are not ashamed of
their uniform.” ae

“TI shall be glad to see Lothar in his again,” said
Brenda.

“Lothar looks well in everything,” said Frau
Erdmann, bridling. “He is an exceptionally fine
man.”

As she spoke the men came into the room, and

, Lothar went straight up to Brenda, but did not sit
‘down.

“T have not had a word with you,” he said. “Let
us go to your own room.”

Brenda hesitated. All her wedding clothes were
spread out there for the delectation of her women
friends.

“Come and see my presents,” she said, and took
him into the billiard room. It was curtained and in
darkness, so she switched on the light. As she did
so Lothar shut the door, took her into his arms and
kissed her violently; and as it seemed to her ever-
lastingly. She made no attempt to evade him, but
mis ardor did not communicate itself to her. She
SALT OF THE EARTH 113

was able to think quite clearly and decide quite surely
that she did not like being kissed.

“T hear the others,” she said, when, after a lull
during which she was not released, he showed every
sign of beginning again. “They are coming to see
the presents.”

Lothar uttered a sound of execration, but did not
let her go as suddenly and completely as she expected.
The others came in almost directly, and he, with his
arm still round her, went to a corner of the big room
that was dimly lighted. There he drew her down
beside him on a small sofa and talked to her in under-
tones, while the four older people looked at the presents
and talked of them.

“We have had no real bride-time,” said Lothar,
holding her to him with a determination she consid-
ered indecorous under the circumstances. ‘You still
feel strange with me. I see it.”

“I agree with the people who want trial marriages,”
began Brenda, but stopped because Lothar shouted
“Wuat!” so violently that their elders, far away as
they were, looked up startled.

“T dare say it can’t be managed,” Brenda went on,
“but it seems a pity. If you and I could go away
for a fortnight and just, find out whether we liked each
other well enough .

“TI forbid you to talk such nonsense,” said Lothar
ponderously. “I am surprised and shocked to find
that a well-brought-up young girl can have such ideas.
Marriage is an institution for the benefit of the weaker
sex, and society is founded on it.”

Brenda did not know whether to laugh or grow
angry. She had spoken with whimsical lightness,
knowing that what she proposed was outside the range
of practical affairs, and she had not expected her
morals to be impugned. Lothar’s outburst only
served to increase her strong, disturbing conviction
that he was a stranger to her and that no glamour of
114 SALT OF THE EARTH

love was going to make the immediate future easy.
She liked him less to-day than she had done in Mann-
heim, and felt less at home with him.

“T am not proposing to abolish marriage,’ she
began rather impatiently, but with an imperious
wave of his hand he quashed further discussion.

“  “T have said that you are not to speak of such

things,” he reminded her. “A young bride on the
eve of her nuptials should have quite other ideas in
her head. I will look at your presents now and
compare them with the list I have brought of mine.
Perhaps if there are many duplicates we can effect
some exchanges.”

He got up, and Brenda, feeling more depressed
than she had ever done in her life, followed him. A
business-like conversation with his parents ensued,
which informed her that still heavier and handsomer
articles than most of those on the table awaited the
happy pair in Berlin; and that the two or three
pictures given to her were of an old-fashioned de-
scription compared with one painted in spots and rep-
resenting putrefying bodies on a Balkan battlefield.
August Zorn, Lothar’s brother-in-law, had presented
him with this work of art, and Frau Erdmann said
that it was extremely clever but not what she enjoyed

looking at herself. What really troubled her, how-

ever, was the idea of seeing a production of the highest
genius thrown away on w room furnished in the
commonplace English style. When she heard that
Brenda was sending things from London she knew
that poor Lothar would have a home that excited
the derision of his more cultured friends.

“In Berlin we have furniture that is designed by
artists,” she said. “If you had left everything to me,
I should have done my best.”

“To-morrow I shall look at what the little bride
has chosen,” said Lothar, “and if it is not to my
liking...”
SALT OF THE EARTH 115

“Tm afraid you can’t do that,’ said Brenda.
“Everything is packed and sent off. I hope you will
like the things, Lothar. At any rate I shall, and they
will matter more to me than to you.”

“What exactly do you mean?” inquired Frau
Erdmann.

“Well... as a rule men don’t notice furniture
much, do they?” said Brenda. “They are less at home.”

“I am extremely sensitive to my surroundings,”
said Lothar. “I frequent several houses where the
greatest taste prevails. When you have seen Frau
von Prassler’s reception rooms, for instance, you have
seen something grandoise.”

“And Elsa!” put in Frau Erdmann. “Nothing can
exceed the richness and artistic taste of Elsa’s salon
now that she has had it redecorated. There is only
ane opinion about it.”

“Brenda has not bought any of her kitchen things
yet,” said Mrs. Miiller mistakenly. She did not mean
to give offense, but Frau Erdmann pursed her lips,
glared at her husband, and threw back her head as if
she were a horse annoyed by flies.

“You hear!’ she said. “The kitchen things are
left for Berlin. Everything else must come from
; London. Well, we shall see what London can produce.
'T have seen nothing here yet that I admire.”

“Can you cook?” said Lothar to Brenda.

“T can not,” she admitted.

“You must learn as quickly as possible,” said
Lothar. “I’m sure my mother will be delighted to
teach you.”

“What do cooks do in Germany?” said Brenda.

“Naturally they cook,” said Frau Erdmann; “but
they require the guiding eye of the mistress always
over them.”

“Brenda will soon settle down to German ways and
find out what to do,” said Mrs. Miller. aa has
plenty of sense.’
116 SALT OF THE EARTH

Frau Erdmann looked so skeptical that if she had
spoken she could hardly have made her meaning
plainer. Herr Erdmann said that one of his daughters
had married money and the other learning, and that
the professor’s wife had to make one mark go as far
as two, an exercise that kept her always busy. Lothar
praised both his sisters, and said that he had eaten as
good a dinner in Mina’s house as in Elsa’s, which
reflected great credit on Mina, since she was the
comparatively poor one; and Jem, coming in unex-
pectedly with Violet, found five people talking about
sauces, while Brenda, looking visibly depressed, re-
arranged some embroideries. | When she saw her
brother and his wife her face became radiant, and she
met them with a warmth that she recognized herself
as a danger signal; for surely it was not right that a
little bride should run towards relatives she was leav-
ing, as if they brought with them all the harmony of
life; while the people holding her future in their
hands jarred on her.

Violet had not seen the three Germans yet, and
there was a twinkle in her eyes when she had been
presented to them: a twinkle quite indecipherable un-
less you knew her as Brenda did. She told Jem
later that Herr Erdmann looked like old Kriiger and
Frau Erdmann like a bad-tempered cook. Lothar
she thought downright offensive at once. His air was -
the air of Mars amongst civilians, while his manner
to Brenda made her laugh and rage by turns, it was
so doting and domineering. She could not understand
what had possessed Brenda when she accepted him,
and she greatly feared that Brenda was asking herself
the same question without getting a satisfactory
answer. For the girl looked anxious and preoccupied,
‘was unusually silent, and when Lothar addressed her
did not respond with any warmth. Every one except
‘Lothar noticed this and felt uneasy. His parents
told each other at the end of the day that their son was
SALT OF THE EARTH 11y

making a mistake and would live to rue it. Brerda
did not fulfill their expectations in some important
ways, for though she had sufficient money she was
evidently a girl of extravagant habits, ignorant of all
a woman should know and wanting in the deference
young females should show to their elders and betters.
They feared that Lothar would have trouble in manag-
ing her, but agreed that when he came out of love’s
young dream he was.the man to do it.

Mr. and Mrs. Miiller were anxious about the future,
too, but in a different way. Mr. Miller liked Lothar
less than ever, and wished he had never taken Brenda
to Heidelberg in June or never allowed her to become
a mouthful for her stiff-necked cousin; but Mrs.
Miller pointed out that men of German blood made
good husbands as a rule, and that Brenda might be
happy even if she carried her own parcels, opened her
own doors, and was rebuked when the dinner went
wrong. In the intimacy of family life these things
happened in England, too, and no one was a penny
the worse. Besides, Brenda had chosen to marry
Lothar, so presumably she loved him. Her mother
did not think the girl’s dejected manner meant much.
She herself had hated Mr. Miiller for at least a week

‘before their marriage, and would have run away if
(she had known where to go. Mr. Miller seemed
‘surprised to hear this.

The next day was so crowded that no one had a
moment to consider the situation that was close upon
them. Lothar had gone back with Jem and Violet,
but he came to the Avenue Road in the morning with
a huge basket of wired roses that he presented to his
little bride.

“Very tasteful,” said his father and mother. “You
could hardly buy a finer basket in Berlin.”

Brenda, who detested wired flowers, knew that her
thanks sounded flat and insufficient. She had not
slept much for three nights; she had acute neuralgia
118 SALT OF THE EARTH

and she felt flat and insufficient from head to foot this
morning. Frau Erdmann looked at her with growing
disapproval and asked if anything was the matter.
Neuralgia she did not believe in at all. It was a
disease of the nerves that a strong character could
overcome at any moment.

“T’m not a strong character,” said Brenda.

“Then it is extremely fortunate for you that you
are marrying one,” said Frau Erdmann.

It was a day of a thousand patterns all different,
thought Brenda. Old friends and servants came with
presents, people she had loved all her life and was
going to leave. The family solicitor sent his clerk
with settlements to sign. The Wilmots arrived with
their two little girls, who were to be Brenda’s youngest
bridesmaids. A great hamper of flowers came from
Treva and an unexpected present of a silver rose
bowl from Major Lovel. Presents, clothes, letters,
telegrams, callers, the children’s high cheerful voices,
her mother’s imperturbable good humor, doors and
windows open, the Erdmanns complaining of draughts,
the hot summer sun, flowers everywhere, and amidst
it all the uncomfortable thought that Lothar’s part
in the whole tohu bohu went hand in hand with her
own. Lothar! who brought her wired roses in the
morning, and in the evening when she arrived at Jem’s
house took her into the library and presented her with
a necklace that she saw at a glance was tawdry and
pretentious.

“Tt has only just arrived from Berlin,” he said.
“Little Mamma chose it for me.”

“How troublesome it is, mused Brenda, when
one’s perceptions are more honest than one’s thoughts
should be; and when a gift you desire to accept with
gratitude rouses a still stronger desire to throw it out
of the window. Little Mamma could be seen all over
the necklace, in the coarseness of the setting, the
garish combination of stones and the florid sprawl
SALT OF THE EARTH 119

of the design. It had probably cost a good deal, but
not nearly as much as a necklace of royal pretensions
ought to cost. Even the case looked cheap. Brenda
fixed her mind firmly on Lothar’s kind intentions,
thanked him, and hoped that as most of the stones
were colored he would not expect her to wear it with
her wedding gown.

“I will put it round your neck myself,” he said
ardently, “to-night and again to-morrow.”

Brenda had known he would wish to do this to-night
the moment she saw it, and knew that when he had
snapped the clasp he would imprint a fervent kiss on
her neck. There was something stereotyped about
his actions, just as there was about his opinions and
his talk. She thought she almost knew now at any
given moment what he would do or say, and she hoped
this insight into the machinery of his mind would
make life easier.

“TI think I won’t wear it to-night,” she began, and
found in a flash that she was deceiving herself if she
thought she knew how to deal with him.

“You will wear it to-night,” he said angrily. “I
wish it. Little Mamma must see it on you. To-
morrow she will be crying.”

Brenda wanted to say “Damn Little Mamma”
because she knew she was going to feel like crying
herself to-morrow and did not see what Frau Erdmann
had to shed tears about. She was not going to marry a
man she had accepted in a moment of insane, rosy
rapture and had hardly seen since: who brought her
a necklace she considered conspicuously vulgar and
who clasped it round her neck with a proprietary air
and the beaus gestes of a magazine hero.

“I hope no one will cry,” said Brenda. “Tears
are infectious and quite absurd at a wedding.”

“For a young girl . . . for a little bride . . . you
express your opinions too freely,” said Lothar.

She supposed it was the neuralgia, but she thought
120 SALT OF THE EARTH

it was also the heavy chill of that infernal necklace
and the tickle on her neck of the undesired kiss. At
any rate she turned on him with exasperation.

“If you call me little bride I shall call you Popsy-
Wopsy,” she said.

But he only stared at her woodenly.

“What is Popsy-Wopsy?” he asked. “It sounds
silly.” ;

“Tt is silly.”

“You are not yourself to-night,” he said after a
moment’s consideration, and opened the door for her
to pass out before him.

On Icoking back she thought that he had behaved
better thian she had,
XI

LL through the night it had been touch and
go with Brenda. She had undressed and gone
to bed, but not to sleep. She had got up, half

dressed again, and sat at her open window staring at
the silent summer darkness of the garden. Suppose
she did it! Suppose she stole out of the house with
the few pounds she possessed and sent a telegram to
her mother or left a note assuring her that she was
alive and well, but could not marry Lothar. It had
been done before, and still the world went round.
But she would have to walk up and down London all
night, and probably be molested or taken up by the
police; and the police were so stupid and yet so
knowing that they would probably find out who she
was and bring her back in time for the civil wedding
which was to take place at the nearest Registrar’s
office at eleven. There was no hurry. If she decided
to go, six o’clock would be time enough, just before
the servants were up. ‘The quiet coat and skirt she
meant to put on for the morning lay ready for her.
Her wedding gown was in a wardrobe with her veif
and wreath of orange blossom. She was wearing no
myrtle. She’knew that German brides invariably
wore myrtle, but she was English and wished to
remain English. She had taken her country for
granted till now, when she was going to leave it for
ever. All the liberty and sweetness of life here she
had taken as a matter of course, and even joined in
the laughter against England that seems amusing
121
122 SALT OF THE EARTH

while you live there enjoying all it gives. She had
thought it would be a pleasant adventure to set up
house in a foreign land and taste its strangeness; but
she had not thought enough of the way back, a way
closed by marriage. She could never come back
except as a visitor and by permission of Lothar. He
had promised her that she could come back every
year for some weeks, and unless she stole out of the
house now at the eleventh hour she would have to
depend on his promise. Altogether she would be
dependent on him, it seemed—dependent on his
pleasure and displeasure, on his opinions, on his family.
Her own family would be a long way off hencefor-
ward. She lay down, half dressed, outside her bed,
weary, dispirited and in doubt. So her mother found
her, fast asleep, next morning. She had slept through
the hour when she might have escaped, slept fast and
dreamlessly as she had not done for a week.

“It is ten o'clock,” said Mrs. Miiller. “I would
not allow them to wake you. But now you’ve only
just time to dress.”

“I meant to wake at six,” said Brenda, still dazed
with sleep.

“What for?” said Mrs. Miller, whose hands were
full of letters, telegrams and parcels. Her question
remained unanswered, but she did not notice it be-°
cause a maid came in witha breakfast tray and because
there were various things to look at and discuss. She
was not quite happy about her daughter’s marriage,
but it never even occurred to her that anything could
stop it now.

Anyhow, nothing did stop it. At three o’clock
Brenda came out of church married, for better for
worse, to Lothar, and at five o’clock she departed with
him in her father’s car. They were going to Dover
that night and to Paris to-morrow. The wedding had
been a crowded one and well arranged. Eight brides-
maids and two pages had followed Brenda to the altar,
SALT OF THE EARTH 123

a full choral service had accompanied her marriage
vows, her friends had given her an affectionate send
off, and as she took a last look at her old home she saw
her own people in the foreground, her father and
mother, Jem, Violet and Thekla, and Thekla’s two
little girls, Mary and Barbara.

“Gott set Dank, that’s over,” said Lothar. “Take
off your veil, little wife. It is impossible to kiss a
woman properly through a veil.”

“People can see in,” said Brenda doubtfully.

“What do I care?” cried Lothar, and strained her
fiercely to him.

That sort of thing went on all through the honey-
moon, and Brenda found it wearing. If Lothar wanted
a veil off he said so without any consideration for her,
and if he wanted to put his arm round her he did not
mind who looked on. In fact, he walked her up and
down the terrace of a Swiss hotel so interlaced that
she knew every one English must be laughing at
them; but she submitted rather than risk an explosiom
of temper. He had no control over his temper, she
soon found; and quite childish trifles roused it. Wher-
ever they went, sound and fury went with them, so
that she dreaded a meal because it usually meant a
row with a waiter. She could see that every one
who served him hated him, and she knew that his
arrogance was never served as well as, for instance,
her father’s considerate politeness. His behavior
to her was uxorious and tyrannical, a blend that
could not please a girl as detached and fastidious as
Brenda. If she had been blindly in love with him,
she might have borne to be adored, scolded, kissed,
bullied, checked here and ordered there in a whirlwind
of proprietary ardor. But she never had been blindly
in love, and marriage did not make her so. There
must be something wanting in one of them, she
thought, some magnetic quality in him that would
have fascinated her, or some strain of the elementa/
-

124 SALT OF THE EARTH

woman in her that would have surrendered to a mate
with a club. When it was time to go to Berlin she
felt relieved. He would be hard at work at once, he
told her, and she would have many lonely hours. She
looked forward to them.

About their arrival in Berlin he preserved a resolute
silence that vexed her. He would not tell her whether
they were to stay with his parents or in a hotel or in
rooms till their home was ready for them, nor would
he say in what quarter he thought of living or whether
they were to have a flat or what he called a villa.
When she questioned him about these matters he
evaded her and enlarged on the perfect taste and
judgment exercised by Little Mamma and his sisters
in domestic matters. He said again and again that
though Elsa’s husband was rich and Mina’s compara-
tively poor, they were both so blessed in their wives
that their existence was one of unbroken comfort.
In fact, they were men any man must envy.

“Tf you model yourself on my sisters in all ways,
you will make me happy,” he said.

“When you talk like that you remind me that I
want to be happy myself,” said Brenda, who was
finding unsuspected and disturbing wells of anger in
herself at times.

“A woman’s happiness lies in self-sacrifice and
devotion to others. At least with us it does. Our
ideas...”

“Your ideas about women are out of date,” said
Brenda. “You will find them all in our older poets.”

“You talk nonsense, my little treasure, and if you
did not look so pretty in that white peignoir you would
make me angry. My ideas about women are the
right ones. At any rate they will govern your conduct
in future. We have women in Berlin with what you
call advanced. opinions, but no one pays the least
attention to them. We do not even allow a woman
to attend a political meeting.”
SALT OF THE EARTH 125

“You allow her to do heavy field work. I have
seen it.”

“Why not? A woman is there to serve men and
rear children. Otherwise the world could get on
better without her. What does she do for the world?
She has no economic existence at all, and she cannot
bear arms. All she can do is to devote herself to
others. My mamma and my sisters are busy from
morning till night and never think of themselves at
all.”

Brenda naturally wondered whether Lothar’s sisters
were going to be as tiresome and officious as his
mother, and she made up her mind that she would try
to live as far from them as possible. With this idea in
her mind, one wet afternoon she unfolded a map of
Berlin that she had with her and began by finding the
Bavarian quarter where she knew that the Erdmanns
lived.

“What are you doing?” said her husband when
he came in and found her employed in this way.
“A map of Berlin! Where did you get it? In
London? Have they maps of Berlin in London?
Do you understand how to use'a map? You see this
long street, the Kurfiirstendamm! That is where
we shall live. You have nothing to compare with it
in London.”

“T should like to live right in the forest, outside
the city,” said Brenda.

“We shall live in the Kurfiirstendamm,” said
Lothar, and would say no more. It was not till they
actually arrived in Berlin a week later, and were
received at the station by a family group with offerings
of flowers, that Brenda learned what hung over her.
The group consisted of Little Mamma, Elsa, Mina,
Professor August Zorn and some children. Brenda,
alighting in a limp, weary condition, got a confused
impression of gushing embraces, critical glances,
flowers, pigtails and a harsh croaking voice that laid
-426 SALT OF THE EARTH

down the law even to Littlke Mamma. When the
group moved on, some of it got into a taxi and some
said they would go back, as they came, by tramcar.
Brenda found herself in a large taxi with Little
Mamma, Lothar and Professor Zorn. She wondered
why he came in the taxi and let his wife and children
go by car; and she decided at a glance that she did not
like him. She had never seen such a plain little pom-
pous irritable man. He had’ fat cheeks the color
of tallow, a button nose, beady black eyes, and a quick,
fidgety manner. As he got into the taxi he stumbled
over Brenda’s dressing bag, and that upset his temper
sadly.

“The bag is much too big,” he said. “My wife
has a small bag which she can carry. It holds my
things as well as hers. I hate impedimenta on a
journey.”

“Gott sei Dank, our travels are over,” said Lothar.
“When one marries one has to have a wedding
journey, but ours has lasted too long. I’m sick of
hotels.”

“Where are we going?” said Brenda, who thought
it was time to know.

“Where does a young wife expect to go?” snapped
August. “What a strange question! To your hus-
band’s home, of course.”

“But we have not chosen our home yet,” said
Brenda.

“Tt has been chosen for you,” said Frau Erdmann
solemnly. ‘You will find everything ready, even to
the roast in the oven and the cook to dish it up. It
has been hard work, but every day when I returned
with an aching head and agitated nerves I said to
Wilhelm, ‘I do it for my son and he will thank me.’”

“Little Mamma, I thank you from the bottom of
my heart,” exclaimed Lothar, and printed a resounding
kiss somewhere near one of the sandy wings that
nearly covered his mother’s ears.
SALT OF THE EARTH 127

“Do you mean that you have taken a flat and put
my furniture into it?” said Brenda.

““My’ is a word never heard on the lips of a
German wife,” said the Professor. “You and all
you bring with you are now the property of Lothar.”

Brenda had not known many violent dislikes in
her life, but she conceived one now for the Profes-
sor, and as she thought he was behaving offensively
she ignored him and, turning to her mother-in-law,
asked again whether a flat had really been taken for
them. But before Frau Erdmann could reply August
bounced to his feet, livid with fury, and shouted to the
driver to stop.

“What is it, August?” said Frau Erdmann. ‘Are
you not well?”

The little man was actually spluttering with rage
as he answered.

“IT am evidently not good enough for the gracious
one. When I speak she does not answer. This is
English Kultur. When a man of years and learning
addresses such a silly goose, she replies with a stare
and does not know enough to open her mouth. But
there is a limit to what my dignity can endure.
Civility is my right and I insist on it. If Lothar is
under the slipper, it is not my affair. Such manners
are typical.”

Brenda was aghast and looked at Lothar. She saw
no promise of support in his face, but only scowling
impatience; while Frau Erdmann, after waiting for
him to speak, said: “I should have thought you
would expect Brenda to be polite to your relatives.
My idea of good manners is to reply amiably when I
am addressed. August was quite right. It is unbe-
coming in a young wife to speak as if anything in the
house belonged to her only.”

“Tt was quite accidental and shall never happen
again,” said Brenda, and then the taxi stopped at a
tall house liberally decorated with turrets and having
128 SALT OF THE EARTH

on either side of the front door two colossal figures
made of red brick. A lift.took the perturbed party
to the fourth floor, where on one of the doors Brenda
saw a brass plate with her husband’s name. <A
blowsy-looking maidservant wearing a tartan skirt,
a velveteen bodice, and a coral brooch appeared in
answer to the bell, bid them good day and invited
them in. She looked hard at Brenda, addressed Frau
Erdmann as gnddige Frau, and said that'she was
all in a flutter because the meat had only just come
and would not be ready as early as it shouid have
been.

“Welcome, little wife, to our home,” said Lothar
as they entered, but he was out of humor and spoke
-constrainedly.

As Brenda crossed the threshold she saw that the
passage was hung with wreaths and garlands of green
stuff, as if it had been Christmas, and on the walls
she saw slabs of wood on which proverbs and greet-
ings were done in rough poker work.

“All these Mina and the children have prepared,”
Frau Erdmann pointed out, and then, throwing open
a door, she said in a proud voice, ‘The dining-room!”’

It really was a trying moment for Brenda, who had
thought out her color schemes with the greatest care
and chosen all her furniture in relation to the walls
and carpets she meant to have as a setting. She
wanted a warm glowing dining-room with sun on the
breakfast table, a Persian carpet on the floor and
curtains to go with the tawny pinks of it.

“The dining-room shall be either orange or rose,
according to what I find,” she said to her mother.
“The drawing-room shall be creamy white mostly and
my bedroom green and blue. I know just how it will
all look, and you must soon come to see it.” And
now—here was the dining-room with the furniture
she had chosen set against walls that looked as if
large brown chenille serpents were crawling over a
SALT OF THE EARTH 129

sickly yellow ground. The ceiling was in heavy
shades of brown and gamboge to match the walls,
and the curtains were of thick chocolate reps with
elaborate upholstered canopies. Even the carpet was
brown, and on the crookedly set dinner table there
was a vase of artificial flowers.

“Very practical,” said the Professor. “Very rich
and elegant, too. Little Mamma has taste. That
one must allow. Elsa wanted light colors here, I
believe, but she need not consider expense at all.
This brown will last a lifetime and does not fade
much. We have it ourselves in our salon.”

He looked like it, thought Brenda, and followed
Frau Erdmann through a communicating door into
the drawing-room, which had been distempered a hard
cold slate, neither blue nor gray.

“This room is not to my taste,” began Frau Erd-
mann, and Brenda said unwarily that perhaps it could
be altered and that she had thought of having ivory
white walls. Her Chesterfield and all her big com-
fortable easy chairs were covered with an attractive
flowery chintz and she had found some fine pieces of
old furniture for this room, one of which was an
inlaid French cabinet with good-sized drawers.

“I was not thinking of the walls,” said Frau Erd-
mann. “The walls are as I chose them, and if they
are not pleasing to you I am sorry. I did my best,
and more than that no one can do. But cotton chair
covers in the salon I should not have advised. In a
bedroom, yes, but in a salon one expects velvet or
brocade. I should also have preferred a suite of new
furniture such as you can buy at several places in
Berlin. Your chairs are a shape that we consider
quite out of fashion and your other pieces do not
match. The chest of drawers would look better in a
bedroom in my opinion, but Elsa seemed to think it
should be placed here. She has some ideas I do not
hold with, but she agrees with me about these cotton
130 SALT OF THE EARTH

covers. Iam afraid this room will make a bad impres-
sion, and that is a pity, as you have your way to make
amongst us. People will think that you are trying
to bring over English fashions. Even the Empress
Frederick found that it was a mistake to do that.
We Berliners are quite satisfied with our own taste
in every way.”

Brenda did not reply to this torrent of expostulation,
because her spirits had fallen to zero. She knew
Lothar well enough now to know that he was thor-
oughly out of humor. August was eying her with
malevolent curiosity, and when the whole party moved
on into her bedroom she hardly knew whether she
wanted to laugh or cry. For here the walls and the
carpet burst upon her in glaring red, a red that was
oppressive and detestable. The windows were tightly
shut, the air smelled stuffily of new wood, new paint
and new blankets, and behind her washstand some one
had hung a great breadth of coarse straw-colored
canvas on which monkeys cut out of black cloth had
been stitched by machine.

“What fascinating monkeys!” said Brenda, going
up to them.

“They are the last word in artistic decoration,”
said August, and Brenda instantly wished they were
not on her walls.

“T hope you are satisfied with everything,” said
Frau Erdmann.

“But, Little Mamma, I am more than satisfied,”
cried Lothar. “When I think of all the trouble you
have saved us and the fatigue you have undergone at
your age, I cannot thank you enough.”

Brenda had gone to one of the windows which she
found looked out at a courtyard, surrounded by tall
houses. She knew enough of Continental life to know
that a room with such an outlook would be noisy all
day and most of the night, and that the only way
of securing privacy was by keeping curtains closely
SALT OF THE EARTH 131

drawn. As she stood there her husband came up to
her and spoke in a low voice that she knew had vials
of wrath behind it.

“My mother is waiting for you to thank her for all
she has done,” he said.

“T didn’t want it done.”

“Nevertheless, you will thank my mother for the
trouble she has taken.”

With mechanical politeness Brenda turned to Frau
Erdmann and said something that might pass for
thanks. The ensuing farewells were strained, and
when the husband and wife were left to themselves
their first words in their future home were words of
discord. Brenda had been trying to make up her mind
to say little or nothing of the vexation she felt, but
Lothar stirred her anger at once.

“Frauenlaunen? Women’s whims! I’ve no
patience with them,” he began.

“T think you ought to have told me,” cried Brenda.

“Told you what?” e

“Told me that you had commissioned your mother
to take this flat and choose these atrocious papers and
carpets. I could have explained that I wanted to
choose my own.”

“August is right,” said Lothar. “There is too
much ‘my’ in your point of view. This is not your
house. It is mine. You are in it because you are
my wife. If I am satisfied, nothing else matters.”

“T could not live with these walls. I shall have
them all redone at my own expense.”

“You will not have one done. I will not permit
you to waste our joint income in such a senseless way.
You have married a man and not a milksop, and the
sooner you find it out the better.”

“But surely I am to have money of my own. My
father said so.”

“It will be spent as I direct.”

“Well . . . I hope we sha’n’t quarrel about money,”
132 SALT OF THE EARTH

said Brenda after a moment’s reflection. As she
spoke she opened her dressing-bag and began to put
some of the bottles and brushes from it on her toilet
table. Then she rang the bell and told the pearl in
the tartan skirt to bring hot water. Frau Erdmann
had described her as a pearl and advised Brenda to
handle her carefully as she had lived in a baron’s |
family for many years and said frankly that she did
not look forward to a mistress with foreign ways.
Her own ways seemed to Brenda far from agreeable,
for she stood in the doorway wiping her hands on a
dirty apron and scowling.

“Hot water?” she echoed. “What for?”

“For me... in acan,” said Brenda.

“The gracious lady said that in a large flat like
this one girl could not be expected to run to and fro
all day with hot water. I told her that the Frau
Baronin washed once in the morning and not again.
If I am to cook the dinner and serve it and wait at
table

“You will not wait at table unless you put on a
clean apron and wash your hands,” said Brenda firmly.
“You will bring me a can of hot water at once and
put another in your master’s dressing-room. I am
the mistress of this house and you will either obey
me or go.”

“Quite right,” said Lothar, to his wife’s surprise,
when the pearl, looking sulkier than ever, had departed.
“But as a rule my orderly will wait at table.”

“Will he know anything about it?”

“Nothing whatever; but I suppose he can learn.”

“Why has your mother only engaged one servant?
Surely we can afford two.”

“T am hungry,” said Lothar shortly. “When we
have dined we can go into these things. Be quick
and put on your blue and green tea gown. Asa rule
you will wear a blouse in the evening. My mother
and sisters would think your tea gowns theatrical.

 
SALT OF THE EARTH 133

But none of them will come to-night. They will have
enormous tact, and will understand that we wish to
spend the first evening in our new home by ourselves.
I only hope that, left to herself, the pearl will not spoil
the dinner.”
Xi

OTHAR told Brenda that she had married a man
and not a milksop; but at times she felt that
she had married a child—an overbearing, bad-

tempered child with the rights of a despot and the
manners of a bully. Even by silence and submission
she could not always keep the peace. There were
days when he wanted to quarrel, when nothing she
could do or say would pacify him, and when she
found herself between the devil of revolt and the
deep sea of humiliation. Generally she gave way even
when he interfered unwarrantably, spoiling her pleas-
ure in the little things of life from which so much
pleasure springs. He would have no flowers bought
either for the table or the drawing-room. He said
flowers were an unnecessary extravagance. He would
eat this and not that. The piano might be played at
certain hours and not at others. Windows Brenda
liked open must be shut. The very books she read
were inspected and her clothes submitted to family
criticism. In Brenda’s opinion the family was too
much with them. It talked of itself as united, and
if union means a frequent interchange of meals, it
was. But when the members of it met they squabbled,
and Brenda had to walk delicately amongst them.
At first she hoped to find a friend in Mina, the Pro-
fessor’s wife, and she did always half like, half pity
the small battered-looking woman who spent her days
between the kitchen and the nursery, striving to please
an implacable man. The scenes there were in that

134
SALT OF THE EARTH 135

household! The storms in teacups! The waste of
energy and happiness over trifles! Brenda decided
after a few experiences that, compared with August,
her own husband was good-humored. August seemed
to thrive on hatred, and the objects of his hate changed
like the wind. But from the first he hated Brenda
and all her ways.

“What time is dinner?” she asked him, when soon
after their arrival he brought a verbal invitation to
dine at his house on the following Sunday.

“The usual time,” he snarled.

But there is no usual time in Berlin, and Brenda
knew it. You may be asked to any kind of a meal at
any time of day, and when you go to tea you may or
may not find that your hostess expects you to stay
on and eat cutlets for supper. It is safer, however,
not to presume on the cutlets.

“We are to dine with August and Mina on Sun-
day,” Brenda said to her husband when he came in.

“What time?” he asked.

“The usual time.”

That struck sparks from Lothar’s temper at once,
and Brenda almost laughed at the variety of phrases
he found to describe her imbecility.

“Couldn’t you ask what time?” he shouted. “You
know it takes half the day to get there.”

“T did ask,” said Brenda.

“Well?”

“He said the usual time.”

“Gott im Himmel!” cried Lothar, and asked the
heavens to be his witness that it was enough to drive
aman crazy. Such fools women were that they could
not ask a plain question and get a plain answer. Now
he himself would have to write since the Zorns were
not on the telephone.

“My dear Lothar,” said Brenda, growing angry
herself, “I asked August what time they dined and
be hissed with fury and bounced out of the room.
136 | SALT OF THE EARTH

He has the manners of a monkey. I was going to say
of a savage; but savages have fine manners, as a
rule.”

“You think too much of manners,” said Lothar.
‘August is a scholar, not a courtier.”

It was now the end of October, and bitter cold in
Berlin. Brenda was sitting in the dining-room be-
cause Lothar would not have the stove lighted in the
salon except when they expected guests. He and.
Brenda had paid a great many calls soon after they
first settled down, and they had been called on in
return and entertained in various ways. Most of
Lothar’s friends were in the army; many of them
were very poor. The men of these households were as
fine as peacocks, but their womenfolk drudged and
stinted from year’s end to year’s end. They lived on
incomes hardly sufficient to keep body and soul
together, and as Brenda got to know some of them she
discovered little shifts and miseries in their lives that
filled her with pity. But she discovered, too, that
their pride of caste supported them. The wife of a
lieutenant who washed her own clothes, could not
pay her bills, and had the brains and the profile of a
rabbit, considered that she honored Lothar’s relations,
the Abels, when she visited them, because the lieuten-
ant was “noble” and Siegmund Abel was a Jew.
That, Brenda found, was her sister-in-law Elsa’s
greatest trouble. When she was too young to
understand all that it entailed she had married
Siegmund Abel, who was a Jew. Brenda liked
Siegmund better than any one in Berlin. He was a
tall, dignified man with the sad eyes of Rembrandt’s
Jewish Rabbi and a quiet, educated manner. He was
a good deal older than his wife and did not share in
her social ambitions, but he allowed her to spend a
great deal of money on entertaining people who
thought they did him a favor to go to his house. It
was only bit by bit that Brenda got her bearings in
SALT OF THE EARTH 137

the new waters that were so unlike the familiar cur-
rents of London, big, easy-going, tolerant London,
where no one minded what you called yourself so long
as you were agreeable, and where no one knew or
cared what was thought in the city on the Spree.
Brenda was often with the Erdmanns and they repre-
sented and gathered round them the well-to-do com-
mercial class in Berlin. The Abels were Jewish and
entertained army people because Elsa liked them, and
artists because Siegmund loved music and painting.
Besides, he came of one of those wealthy Jewish
families who, by tradition, are hospitable to artists
in every German town. His house was a delightful
one to go to because he and Elsa both possessed the
art of entertaining and the money to do it well. Their
divergencies in taste did not result in a want of har-
mony on the whole, but in amusing variety, and
though Elsa was not satisfied with her social position
she gave dinners and receptions that every one enjoyed.
August’s friends mostly belonged to the professor
class, and many of them were agreeable, interesting
men. Brenda wondered how they could endure
August, and before long judged that he was not
endured gladly by his colleagues. He complained so
much of this one’s neglect and that one’s pride of
place that any one who knew him could read between
the lines. Lothar received hardly any one who did
not wear the gray uniform; and Brenda found that
the uniforms did not mix well with civilians. One
of August’s grievances against her was her inadequate
appreciation of her luck in being admitted to the
tnilitary and professional circles of Berlin. He was
always reminding her of it and informing her that
socially she had risen in the world through her mar-
riage. At first Brenda could not understand why his
grudge against her was so bitter, but she saw that
everything she said and did, even the clothes she wore,
her imperfect German, and her ways in the house
138 SALT OF THE EARTH

exasperated him, while on the contrary Siegmund liked
her from the first and stood by her as a friend. So she
did not look forward to Sunday dinner with the Zorns,
because she knew that in one way or the other there
would be unpleasantness. If she opened her mouth
she would give offense, and if she remained silent she
would be asked whether anything was the matter.
Besides, if you preserve an artificial silence in order to
avoid trouble, you probably end by looking rather
depressed. This, in fact, had happened recently at
the Zorns, and August, staring across the table, had
said in a challenging voice:

“Why does not Brenda join in our conversation?
Can’t she understand what we say, or is she out of
humor?”

The attention of the whole family circle was instantly
fixed on Brenda, and she had been asked if anything
was the matter. Siegmund had filled up her glass
with wine, Frau Erdmann said that she had no patience
with moody people, and Lothar had looked annoyed.

“When you are with my family I wish you would
make yourself agreeable to them,” he said as they
walked home. “It costs nothing, and in Germany
a young woman is expected to please her elders.”

“T’m afraid some of them are determined not to be
pleased,” said Brenda.

“T noticed myself at dinner that you looked like
sour milk and hardly spoke.”

“Tt isn’t always easy . . .” began Brenda, but was
stopped, partly by a ridiculous wish to cry and partly
by a marital lecture on the duties of a wife towards
her lord’s relatives.

“What had I better wear?” she said to Lothar
when Sunday came and she was going to dress. “Do
you think any particular color would soothe August?”

‘Lothar instantly flew into a passion, hammered on
the table with his fist, and said she took a delight in
insulting his family. Brenda turned white, wished
SALT OF THE EARTH 139

she had never tried to be funny about such a serious
subject as August, and said she had not meant any
harm. She was as apologetic and peaceable as she
could be until Lothar said he had been a fool to expect
an English girl to fulfill the demands made on a wife
in Germany, where family life reached heights of
amity and affection undreamed of by other nations.
She then lost control for a moment, and said that she
had not seen as much quarreling and bad temper at
home in twenty-two years as she had suffered from
in three months in Berlin. It was an unwise thing
to say, because it provoked a new and worse explosion.
If she had remained as gentle as a dove, bearing all
things patiently, Lothar’s wrath would have spent
itself in time, and there would have been fair weather
till this or that provoked it again. But to say that
he and his people had tempers and were quarrelsome
cut him to the quick, and he raged as he had never
raged before in proof of the family harmony. When
he subsided it was nearly time to go to the Zorns, and
Brenda had to dress in a jiffy, because to keep Lothar
waiting in his present mood was more than she dared.
tisk. They had found out that dinner was at two,
so she put on a dark blue coat and skirt with a white
crépe de Chine blouse that had cost five guineas but
looked simple to the ignorant eye. She had meant
to keep on her hat, but the pressure of the family
assembled in the hall to welcome them obliged her
to give it to the maid waiting to hang it up. “Peace
at any price,” she thought, but found as usual that
peace is impossible when one side means war. Her
hostess, Mina, was dressed to-day in a flowing shape-
less garment of vivid green silk, cut so as to show the
poor woman’s brown bony neck and the hard collar-
less line unsoftened by lace or chiffon. An enormous
old-fashioned diamond brooch fastened it in front,
her shoes and stockings were a yellowish tan, and her
thin colorless hair was scraped back from her face
140 _ SALT OF THE EARTH

and twisted in alittle knot on the top of her head.
She looked hot with anxiety and hard work, but she
stood in the center of the room surrounded by an
admiring family circle, who all said her new gown was
a colossal success.

“Very becoming,” said Lothar, when asked his
opinion.

“Very tasteful,” said Frau Erdmann, who wore
her brown satin, “very flattering to your guests to
put it on. Elsa, our Parisian, has also come in her
new velvet. Has your wife nothing in her wardrobe
then, Lothar, but these short cloth skirts and little
Backfisch blouses? I hear of her appearing in great
elegance at other places. But I suppose - for Her hus-
band’s family anything is good enough.

Brenda understood the allusion. Some dass ago
she had been at a large dinner at the Prasslers, and
luckily Elsa had told her just in time to dress as she
would have done in England. She had worn her
wedding gown and her pearls, and had charmed every
one not as demented by Anglophobia as the Erdmanns
and the Zorns.

“T’d have come in silk attire to-day if I’d known
they’d: like it,” she whispered ruefully to Siegmund,
“but I never know what they want. Last Sunday
I put on a voile gown and a fur coat and they said I
had overdressed for the simple family circle. August
talked at me all the afternoon.”

“Never mind,” said Siegmund. “Next Sunday the
family meets at my house and you shall wear a potato
sack if it pleases you.”

“T’ll wear an embroidered teagown if it makes them
happy. I should feel a worse fool in that than in a
potato sack at this time of day.”

“They know nothing of such things,” said Sieg-
mund. “I should not let them vex you. It will
spoil your hunger and we always have a good dinner
here. Mina is a perfect cook.”
SALT OF THE EARTH 14!

“We are having awful dinners!” sighed Brenda.
“Every day there are scenes.”

“How is that?”

“My mother-in-law engaged a pearl for us and she
can’t cook,”

“Why don’t you send her away?”

“Lothar will not. She was engaged for three
months, so we should have to pay her wages. He
thinks I ought to train her.”

“Would that be impossible?”

“How can one train another when one knows
nothing? Besides, the pearl is three times my weight
and throws things about if I go near the kitchen.
She cheats us, too.”

Siegmund’s wise eyes rested rather anxiously on
Brenda. She spoke lightly, as if what she said was
half in joke, but he judged from her general appear-
ance that she was not finding“ life a joke just now.
He had not'seen her before her marriage, but he saw
that she had changed since she came to Berlin and
that she did not look well or happy.

“TI believe that Lothar bullies his wife,” he said to
Elsa when they got home.

“T’ve no doubt he does,” said Elsa. ‘“‘Lothar is a
bully. He is known to be.”

“Can’t you stand by her?”

“T can’t defend her from Lothar. He has some-
thing to complain of, too. Brenda does not know how
to keep house, and she allows herself to be cheated.
He says their food bills are absurd. It is the old story.
He was carried away by her pretty face and now finds
that she does not suit him. Why didn’t he marry
Toni Lieber? She would have brought him half a
million and known how to send the pearl packing,
Brenda is not awake to her duties.”

That was what all the members of Lothar’s family
concluded after knowing Brenda for a couple of
months. She did not suit Lothar and she could not

a
142 SALT OF THE EARTH

keep house. She knew nothing, meine Liebe, nothing
at all. She had never heard that you can buy the roots
of parsley for flavoring soup, or that the giblets of a
goose must be saved for a stew, or that the family
washing should be done by the pearl once a month in
the attic, while she herself opened the door to callers
and did the cooking. She had actually been shocked
and surprised to find Mina cooking her family’s mid-
day dinner, although Mina had been ironing since six
o’clock, and she had said that it was cruel to let Mina
work like that when she had a headache. Mina always
had headaches. She was anemic. But was a headache
a reason for allowing a family to go dinnerless or
perhaps dine on scraps? Lothar would soon suffer
from his stomach, the family said, because Brenda
did not look after his food properly. She did not
care about eating herself, so she did not know how
to comfort a man with dishes so succulent and filling
that after eating of them to repletion he felt content
with the world. As things were he was never content.
His temper was more on edge than usual, and now
that he had married an Englishwoman his hatred of
England seemed to boil over just as August’s did.
For Brenda’s blood did not count in Berlin and was
hardly ever remembered. She never thought of it
herself amidst the pangs of homesickness that made
her ache for an English voice and an English face.
She tried hard to walk warily and refrain from
giving offense. She heard endless stories against the
Empress Frederick, all of which pointed a moral;
and the moral was invariably that no one English
coming to Berlin must try to introduce English ways
or English goods into this city of supermen. She
soon knew that unless she committed arson her London
chairs and tables must remain as witnesses against
her, rousing that curious blend of grudge and disap-
proval that is the keynote of German Anglophobia.
But most of all she felt that she, herself, moved in an
SALT OF THE EARTH 143°

aura she could not disperse, that it emanated from the
British ‘Empire, and that at the worst it excited hos-
tility, at the best, estrangement. She liked some of
Lothar’s brother officers and some of their women-
folk, but she never felt quite at home amongst them.
No doubt the fact that she was not free to choose
her friends made a difference. In this respect Lothar
imposed his will absolutely. It was his house and
no one should be asked to it without his approval,
nor should Brenda go to any house without his per-
mission. And his exclusions were not her exclusions.
He hated Jews, he sniffed at artists, he looked down
on business men. In fact, he avoided ail civilians
except those in his family and some whose wealth
acted as a magnet. At first the everlasting uniforms
amused Brenda. The men who wore them had their
wn code of manners and it was not the English code,
but at any rate they had formulas of politeness to-
wards women. They were not babyish, quarrelsome
pedants like August. Some were gentlemen. Some,
in her opinion, were not, in spite of their swagger and
in spite of their titles. One day at the Abels Elsa
asked a Baron Amsing, a lieutenant in a cavalry regi-
ment, what use was made of the long lance she had
seen him ride with on parade. He was a man Brenda
would not have had in her house, in her sister-in-law’s
place, for though he visited the Abels frequently he
treated them with insufferable arrogance and
condescension.

“What is your long lance for?” asked Elsa.

‘“Damit hetzen wir die Juden!’ answered the man
with the high cackling laugh of his kind. “We harry
Jews with it.”

Brenda waited «until Siegmund and Elsa were both
out of hearing. Then addressing the Baron suddenly,
she said:

“Do you know that Herr Abel is a Jew?”

“Of course I know it,” he answered sneeringly.
144 SALT OF THE EARTH

Brenda looked at him, and her look was like the
flick of a whip on the hide of his self-esteem. It did
not condemn. It expressed surprise at such manners.

“In England you pet the Jews,” he said. “We
know better here.”

“Except when you are asked to eat at a Jew’s
table and drink a Jew’s wine,” said Brenda.

Nothing happened. The man got red in the face,
stalked away and never spoke to her again. Nothing
happened, but she went home thoroughly depressed.

“[’m getting as coarse-tongued as they are,” she
said to herself.
XIII

R. MULLER sent his daughter her quarterly
check just before Christmas and told her
to pay it into her own account at the Deutscher

Bank. He had insisted, when she married, that her
income should be in her own hands, and Mrs. Miller
had told her daughter that financial independence
helped a woman over many difficult places in married
life. But hitherto Brenda had not been independent,
although her first check had arrived at Michaelmas.
Lothar said that the money was wanted for the trades-
people employed by Little Mamma to decorate and
furnish their flat, and that a large portion of it had
been spent on the kitchen. He said that a German
father who undertook to furnish his daughter’s home
fulfilled his obligations even down to such trifles as
saucepan holders and wooden spoons; and that what
Brenda had sent from London was only half the affair.
He seemed to have some reason on his side. Anyhow
he took possession of her check, and presumably
paid furnishing bills with it. He gave Brenda
nothing but a bare weekly sum for housekeeping,
and she, who had.never been short of money in
her life, began to have anxieties about making
two ends meet. Luckily she wanted no clothes,
for though she had married in August her parents
had given her furs and some winter coats and
skirts. But when the second check came she told
Lothar that she wished to begin her own banking
account.
“T will not hear of it,” said Lothar.

145
146 SALT OF THE EARTH

He had just come in, but till he spoke Brenda had
not noticed that he was in a bad temper. He was
scowling at the carpet, but when they were by them-
selves he was usually scowling and chary of speech.
Sometimes they sat together all the evening in a silence
that made her think solitary imprisonment would be
less oppressive. If she spoke he would look up from
a book, ariswer shortly and immerse himself again.
‘She was not a chattering person, but after a long
lonely day an evening spent in this way depressed her
to the point of sleeplessness and she would lie awake
wondering if life was to go on to the end in this
atmosphere of chilly failure.

“My father wishes me to have control of my own
money,” she said now.

“What your father wishes cannot regulate your
life now that you are married.”

“But I wish it very much myself, Lothar.”

“T’ve no doubt you do. You wish many things
that cannot be done. Your money will be placed
‘with mine in my bank and spent for our mutual benefit
as I direct. That is the German custom and we shall
follow it.”

“T thought that my father made it clear that his
allowance to me was to be in my own hands.”

“He may have done.”

“Surely you remember?”

“Why should I remember? What does it signify
since I decide otherwise? Has the new check come?
We shall need every penny of it to carry us through
Christmas and New Year.”

“T dare say we shall, and I am quite willing to spend
most of it on our general expenses; but I want a little
for myself, too.”

“What can you want? You had enough finery
for six women in August, four or five months ago.
‘Women know nothing about money. Their one idea
is to squander it.”
SALT OF THE EARTH 147

“That is not fair,” began Brenda. “I never have

penny .

She stopped short, as she often did j in a tussle with
Lothar, appalled by the sordid depths to which it was
leading her. She would rather do without money than
squabble about it. Yet her sense of justice drove her
to speak again.

“Tam sure that my father wishes me to have what I
need,” she said.

Lothar glanced at his wife with actual dislike in his
cold eyes. Her beauty was under a cloud, her figure
was losing its lines, and she had been sickly for months
now. The stork was expected in May, but the thought
of her recovery did not present itself as vividly as the
constant sight of her impaired looks.

“You are a bad manager,” he said; “you understand
nothing of housekeeping.”

This was both true and untrue. Brenda never
had kept house till she came to Berlin, and she began
under unusual difficulties, in a strange country and
saddled with the odious pearl engaged by Little
Mamma. She had just replaced her by a more prom-
ising one and given mortal offense to the family by
doing so. She had also had fierce battles with Lothar
on the subject of servants, because she wanted to keep
two and he would not allow it. She had offered to pay
for the second herself, and he had pointed out that
her money was part of their united income and not in
any sense a personal possession. She had been so
taken aback by this repudiation of his covenant with
her father that at the time she had not said n-uch;
but when her check came she knew that she must try
conclusions. She was willing to contribute most of
it to their general expenses. But she wanted to follow
her father’s instructions and open her own account at
a bank; and she wanted to use a little of it in prepara-
tion for that coming event in May.

“Here is my father’s letter,” she said, handing it
148 SALT OF THE EARTH

to him. “He tells me to put the check in the Deutscher
Bank.” ;

“Where is the check?”

“Tn this envelope.”

“Give it to me.”

_Brenda looked at him, but he did not meet her eyes.
He was scowling, his eyes were fixed on the floor and
his whole manner proclaimed his dissatisfaction.

“You are breaking your word,” said Brenda.

That let loose the floodgates of his wrath. She
had vowed for the sake of her child that at any cost
she would stave off one of these scenes when his tem-
per exploded in such sound and fury that she felt
shattered by it for days. But her financial indepen-
dence had become a weighty matter. The command
of money would have'eased many of the questions
about which they disagreed, and she desired it largely
because of the peace it would bring. She still strove
for peace, although she might have known by this
time that it was not in her power to insure it.

“In Germany men are men,” shouted Lothar.
“We are not women-ridden, as you’ are in your
decaying country. We know how to deal with our
wives. Your place is in the kitchen and the nursery.
You will spend what I allow you and not a penny
more. I would not have you in my house on any
other terms. Tell your father what lies you please.
He can do nothing. I am master and mean to remain
so.”

Brenda was listening, as she usually listened to his
tirades, in silence. She wrapped herself in it because
she knew of no other armor, but it was not always
effective. Silence can convey reproach, and when
Lothar’ was on the high horse he smelled offense in it.

“Do you hear and understand what I say?” he
asked now, bringing his fist down on the table so
heavily that some glasses on it moved and clattered.
Brenda replied by handing him her father’s check. He
SALT OF THE EARTH 149

looked at it, saw that it was indorsed and put it in
his pocket.

“It is time that we returned some of the hospitality
we have accepted,” he went on. “We must ask
people to dinner. But how to manage it I don’t
know.”

“T don’t either,” said Brenda. “You can’t give
dinner parties with one servant and a boy like Fritz,
even in Berlin.”

“What do you mean by even in Berlin?”

“Well . . . we have been to meals with people
who keep one servant: a light supper or the usual mid-
day dinner of two or three courses. Even then the
mistress must have worked like a black to have things
ready.”

“Why should she not work? Does her husband
not work? Why should a woman sit in an easy chair
all day reading silly romances and filling her head
with nonsense? You would probably find your health
greatly improved if you bustled about in the house
as my sisters and mother do. But we are wandering
from what I have to say. It is strange that a woman
who considers herself intelligent can never stick to the
point. I intend to ask the Prasslers and half a
dozen others to dinner. We can easily manage ten
at this table.”

The Prasslers were go-ahead wealthy people, with
whom Lothar had lately become intimate. Unfor-
tunately Brenda did not like them. Frau Prassler had
been a very rich girl of Jewish extraction and the
marriage had been one of mutual convenience. She
gained the place she coveted in army society and her
husband got his debts paid and his house run luxuri-
ously. They lived in the upper part of a large villa
in a fashionable part of the Thiergarten and enter-
tained profusely. Frau Prassler was distantly connected
with Siegmund Abel, but though the households met
there was rivalry rather than friendship between the
150 SALT OF THE EARTH

women. Jutta Prassler, usually known as “the
beautiful Jutta,” looked down on Elsa, or pretended
to, because she had married a Jew; and Elsa looked
down on Jutta because she was by birth a Jewess and
tried to forget it. Elsa’s brother was an officer, but
socially a brother is not as useful as a husband. At
any rate the Prasslers gave themselves more airs than
the Abels and had had a large dinner yesterday in
honor of the Colonel’s birthday, to which no civilians
had been asked. Nor had the officers’ wives been
vasked. Jutta had been the only woman present and
Lothar had come back full of her “Geist,” her dia-
monds, her gown of scarlet brocade and her aplomb
as hostess to twenty men. The dinner itself, the wines
served with it and the table decorations had all been
superb, To sit down next day to plain boiled Ochsen-
fleisch with horseradish sauce was enough to make any
man fret and fume at fate. A medley of memories,
scraps of talk, glances, innuendoes, all helped towards
his discontent ; and so, no doubt, did the wines he had
drunk and the late hour to which the revel had been
prolonged. For after dinner a few unmarried women
had joined the party and there had been dancing late
into the night. That Toni Lieber of whom Elsa had
spoken had been present, and Frau 'Prassler had told

- Lothar that she ‘had just become engaged to the young
lieutenant with whom she was dancing, that he had
nothing but debts, and that she, through the death of
an aunt, was richer than ever.

“T wish you would make a friend of Frau Prassler,”
he said moodily to Brenda to-day, “that is if she
would allow it. She is my ideal of what a woman
ought to be. I recommend her to you as a model.”

“What do you want me to imitate: ?”

“Her chic! Her savoir vivre.’

“Do you mean her clothes and her entertainments?
They are both expensive.”

“Money has nothing to do with it. She says so.
SALT OF THE EARTH I51

Of course she is an extraordinarily clever woman and
always amiable.”

Brenda’s memory was busy, too, for a discussion
of this kind becomes a conflict of ideals and whole
ranges of thought lie behind the starved spoken word.
It outraged every effort and standard of her life to
put a woman before her as a model whom she regarded
as a personification of all that women should cast
aside. She had seen enough of the Prasslers to take
their measure. The man was big and powerful, with
a low forehead and a heavy brutal mouth and jaw:
a man without pity or subtlety, a drinker at times,
boorish, and easily stirred to wrath. She had seen a
great many men of his type'since she had married
Lothar, and they clashed with all her old pictures of
the dreamy kindly German and of the shrewd, knowl-
edgeable German, pictures of which her father was
the prototype. The beautiful Jutta she judged to
be as hard as nails, cynical, a coquette of the order
Germans call “raffiniert,” and by instinct hostile to
other women.

However, Brenda did not utter any of her thoughts
about the Prasslers, nor did she refuse to consider the
question of dinner parties given in a-ménage with one
maid and a mistress whose only desire just now was
to live in hiding and endure the ills she was heir to.
If Lothar wanted dinner parties he would have them -
and shout down her objections; and more than any-
thing else she hated shouting. So she consulted Elsa,
got the addresses of a waitress and a good Kochfrau
and under Lothar’s directions issued invitations. She
wanted to ask the Abels, but Lothar refused. They
did not fit in, he said.. This increased Brenda’s diffi<
culties, because Elsa took offense and pretended not
to know there was to be a dinner party. Little Mamma
said pointedly that if her son excluded his family
when he entertained he must be doing it under
influence, and Mina hinted that the simple wife of a
152 SALT OF THE EARTH

professor could not come to the assistance of a hostess
with such grand ideas. A Kochfrau had never entered
her house. She was her own Kochfrau and had al-
ways succeeded in giving her husband and his friends
satisfaction.

So Brenda, who had been out a good deal in Berlin
and knew what was expected, relied on herself. She
was shrewd enough to reckon with her own inexperi-
ence, and because of it to put her whole mind into the
business and try to think of every detail and provide
against every hitch. When the day came she laid
the table herself quite early in the afternoon, using
for the first time a great deal of the English glass and
silver given her at her marriage. Her flowers were
white chrysanthemums. Against the muddy browns
of Little Mamma’s walls white and silver looked bet-
ter than any color—at least she thought so. As
she stood there, tired but satisfied, she heard the front
door open and Lothar’s voice in the hall. He was.
speaking to some one he had brought with him, and
Brenda looked around for the quickest way of escape.
For she felt disheveled, hot and weary, like Mina
when she had cooked her Sunday dinner. She had
worked hard all day and wore an overall that was
crumpled and not as becoming as it would have been
a few months ago. But before she could get away the
door opened, and Frau Prassler, looking like a fashion
plate and carrying a great bunch of small, brownish-
red chrysanthemums, entered the room with Lothar.

“Ha, ha! we find the good little woman at her.
duties,” she exclaimed in the high rasping treble that
Brenda thought was the complement of the raucous
bark affected by the men of her world. “But why
white, meine Liebe? We are not exactly a bridal pair
by this time, are we? I bring you red.”

“Thank you very much,” said Brenda, taking the
flowers from her. She opened the door leading to the
drawing-room and waited for the lady to pass in befora
SALT OF THE EARTH 153

her. But Frau Prassler remained where she was and
fixed her eyes on the table.

“Very nice! Very nice!” she said after a pro-
longed survey, during which Lothar watched her
anxiously and Brenda waited in amazement. “But
in a simple household the wine and fruit should be
placed on the table.”

“Of course it should,” said Lothar. “How quick
you are to see what is wanting, dear friend. No
wonder that in your house everything runs as if it
were oiled.”

“The only effective oil in any house is the eye of
the mistress,” said Frau Prassler, still staring at the
table with an expression that seemed to Brenda both
grudging and surprised. “The moment that is shut
everything goes wrong. I suppose I am not allowed
to make a criticism.”

“In my house whatever you say and do is welcome,”
murmured Lothar.

“Then I must say that I should prefer the flowers
I have brought. I consider these insipid.”

“Tf you would arrange them for us...” began
Lothar.

“T am going to put the red ones in the drawing-
room,” said Brenda hurriedly. “I like the white ones
here.”

The words were hardly out of her mouth as quickly
as the flowers were out of her hands. In a towering
passion, the signs of which his wife knew only too well,
Lothar marched up to her, took the chrysanthemums
and presented them gallantly to the beautiful Jutta,
who was looking offended.

“But if your wife prefers to rely on her own taste
and her own knowledge,” she said, “who am I that I
should interfere?”

Lothar went up to his wife again and spoke in a
whisper. “Frau Prassler will take tea with us,” he
said. “You had better see that it is presentably
154. SALT OF THE EARTH

served and that you are presentably dressed. You
look like a charwoman.”

Brenda understood that she was dismissed. She
knew, too, that if tea was to be served in a civilized
wa she must send the Kochfrau out for cakes and rolls

make the new pearl tidy herself. It took a few.
ae to give these orders in a kitchen furious at
such an interruption and then to attend to her own
appearance, which even after attention was far from
satisfactory. However, in about twenty minutes she
returned to the dining-room to say that tea was ready,
and then she saw the havoc that had been made with
the dining-table. Lothar had plumped bottles on
it here and there and everywhere, dishes of fruit stood
where she had put ferns and flowers, in some cases on
the mangled remains of her delicate sprays; and Frau
Prassler was still engaged in dragging Brenda’s big
white blooms out of glasses and thrusting her. miser-
able little brownish red ones in their place. She did
this without care, but rather with a sort of monkeyish
malice, splashing the tablecloth and giving cries of
mock impatience as she dismantled things.

“Tea is ready,” said Brenda.

“We have nearly finished,” answered Frau Prassler.
and addressing Lothar she said, “Shall we remove all
the white flowers or leave a mixture? Which do you
prefer?”

“What do you think?” asked Lothar.

“What does the little wife say?” inquired Jutta.
“She must also be consulted. I am sure she had done
her best.””

As she turned suddenly to look at Brenda, a heavy
branch of chrysanthemums in her hands, she knocked
down two tall overladen glasses near the center of the
table and about three pints of water began to spread
in all directions. A piercing shriek, when she saw
what she had done, was presumably to express regret
and certainly expressed vexation. Brenda did not
SALT OF THE EARTH 155

utter a sound. Lothar looked wildly round, dashed
at some of the folded napkins and began to mop up
the water in an ineffective way.

“English phlegm!” cried Frau Prassler, pointing
to Brenda. “She sees our work ruined and does
mot even spring to our assistance. What is to be
done?”

“Will you come to tea now, Frau Prassler?’’ said
Brenda. ‘‘Never mind that, Lothar. I will see to
things later.”

Lothar was now in a mood when the male curses
the female and all her works. The women had landed
him in a quandary, and the woman he held up to
Brenda for imitation did not show to advantage. A
pretty mess he and they had made of the dinner-table
between them, and in three hours the guests would
arrive. Frau Prassler had not been clever over it,
although as a rule she was cleverer than other women
and so seductive that she was beginning to dominate
his thoughts morning, noon and night. Probably
Brenda’s unfriendly manner had upset the delicate
equilibrium of her nerves. She had told him only
this afternoon that she was supersensitive, and that
she felt sure his wife did not like her.

“What are you going to do?” he said sourly to
Brenda when, after a hasty cup of tea, the beautiful
Jutta departed. The husband and wife were standing
together in the dining-room.

“T am going to relay the whole table,” said Brenda.

“Ts that necessary?”

“Certainly it is necessary.”

She laughed a little as she spoke, for the table
looked ridiculous, disordered, and over a large area
soaked with water.

“I knew that when we tried to give a dinner every-
thing would go wrong,” said Lothar, and then had to
be out of the house for a couple of hours. When he
came back it was late and he had to dress hurriedly.
156 SALT OF THE EARTH

Then his guests arrived and he did not see the dinner-
table again until he went in with his colonel’s wife
on his arm; but he had noticed a great jar of brown-
ish-red chrysanthemums in the salon. The table
looked just as it had done before Jutta had disturbed
it, all crystal and silver, big white chrysanthemums and
shining damask. The fruit and the wine were on the
sideboard. Frau Prassler looked at Lothar, for she
sat on his left side; but he was listening to the colonel’s
lady and she was complimenting him on his wife’s
beauty and on the fine taste that she had shown in the
arrangement of her dinner-table.

“In these matters the English excel us,” she said;
“that we must leave them.”

“T do not agree with you,” put in Frau Prassler
sharply. “In Berlin all decoration reaches the highest
pitch of art and civilization. What do you admire
here to-night? White is not a color at all, and at
a feast color is necessary. Besides, it suggests bridal
innocence and draws attention to the fact that our
-dear friends are quite an old married pair.”

“You are very free in your criticisms, Frau Major,”
said the ‘colonel’s wife, looking at Jutta with uncon-
cealed dislike. “What would you have put on the
table to-night?”

“T should have put dark red.”

“With these brown walls! That I cannot believe.
You are too clever!”

“But it is true,” said Lothar. “Frau Prassler even
brought us some red flowers, which you may have
noticed in the salon.”,

“[ did,” said the colonel’s wife; “they were
ugly.”

“Tt is all a question of taste,” said Jutta.

“Just so,” said the colonel’s wife, and then changed
the subject.
XIV

LL through the winter and spring Brenda could
not go out much, and on the whole she was.
lonely. She saw the people she liked best

occasionally, but she saw most of her husband’s
family, and intimacy bred no love for them. She
settled down to amicable toleration of the three
women, Elsa, Mina and Little Mamma. Their ways
were not her ways, but they had qualities she valued,
and according to their lights, although they criticised,
they stood by her. Elsa, in a hard brusque way,
tried to befriend her. Herr Erdmann remained what
she had always known him, a pompous, overbearing
old man, his foot heavily on his family. August was.
uniformly disagreeable, and Siegmund Abel emerged.
more and more clearly as the kindest nature and the
profoundest mind she knew in Germany. She often
thought that without his friendship she must have.
gone under, so sad were her days.

Lothar hardly troubled to conceal his feelings, and
Brenda found herself in the most difficult of positions,
one for which there is no general rule. What is a
wife to do who considers marriage the most irrevoca-
ble of covenants and sees her husband ensnared by
another woman, or pursuing another woman? Speech
in such cases is the most treacherous of weapons, lead-
ing only to false assurances or to anger. Silence is
double-edged, for who can be silent in the intimacy of
married life without self-betrayal? Brenda had said

157
r58 SALT OF THE EARTH

nothing when Lothar and Frau Prassler pulled her
table to pieces, but they both knew that she was angry;
and at night, when the guests departed, Lothar had
said nothing about her restoration of it. In fact, he
had been in an amiable mood, admitting that every-
thing had gone well.

At first Brenda had not been suspicious, for she
was not by temperament*a jealous woman. But, as
usual, little hints dropped by other: people showed her
what she might not have discovered for herself. One
had met Lothar in the Thiergarten with Frau Prassler ;
another had seen him at a florist’s ordering violets
and complimented Brenda on having married a man
who paid his wife such pretty attentions; but Brenda,
though she did not say so, had never received any
violets from Lothar. His. fellow-officers often seemed
to know of his whereabouts when she did not; and as
the spring advanced, she heard of expeditions that
were not to include her, and of which her husband
had not spoken. Little Mamma began to drop innuen-
does about women who were notorious coquettes, and
Elsa said bluntly that if the beautiful Jutta ever smiled
at Siegmund she would tell her to keep off the grass.

Brenda would not discuss her husband even with
his family, and that made things difficult, because
they liked to discuss everything and every one at great
length. When she remained silent, they thought she
was unfriendly and gave herself airs; but they were
not easily put off. If she tried to change the subject,
they paid no attention to her and talked to each other;
and one day Little Mamma and Mina arrived with
such solemn faces that Brenda thought something
serious must have happened.

“Have you had bad news?” she asked.

Little Mamma softly opened the door of the dining-
room that faced the passage and shut it again. Brenda
knew what this business portended, because she had
seen it acted before. Something had to be said that
SALT OF THE EARTH 159

servants must not hear, and all servants, even pearls,
were eavesdroppers. When Little Mamma had satis-
fied herself that she could speak, she tramped in'a
woe-begone way across the room and dumped herself
down in the big leather-covered easy chair usually
sacred to her son.

“What is Lothar doing to-night?” she said. “Can
you both come to supper?’’.

“T can,” said Brenda. “Lothar will be out.”

“How do you know that he will be out?”

“He told me so this morning.”

“Where will he be?”

“He did not tell me,” said Brenda unwillingly.
“With some of his friends, I suppose.”

The mother and daughter looked at each other
meaningly.

“Ts it possible that your husband goes out for the
evening and does not inform you where he is going?
Is that your English conception of married life?”

“Lothar is not English,’ observed Brenda. “He is
the one who is going out.”

“When August leaves me for a few hours in the
evening, I know exactly where he will spend his time,”
mewed Mina. “TI have no objection to a man wishing
to be with other men in his leisure hours. August’s
brain is so great that no woman can expect to con-
verse with him on equal terms. But I am pleased to
say that he has the profoundest contempt for all
women, You may have noticed it. The other night,
when you expressed your opinion so freely about
Wedekind’s plays, he said he felt inclined to tell you
that your judgment was of no value. But August is
always a gentleman.”

Mina pronounced the adopted word “shentleman,”
and the conjunction with August nearly upset Brenda’s
self-control. She wanted neither to laugh nor cry,
but to keep herself to herself as her old nurse used to
say. “Now don’t slop over, Miss Brenda. Keep
160 SALT OF THE EARTH

yourself to yourself. We can’t always ’ave our own
‘way in this world, and it’s babyish to cry.” It was
a wrong use of the phrase, Brenda knew, and yet it
always came into her head in this connection. She
must not slop over, she could not expect to have
everything her own way, and she must set a guard
on her. emotions, keeping them as far as possible to
herself. Such was the English tradition, even in a
little girl’s nursery, and she would live up to it.

“Am I to come to supper, then, without Lothar?”
she asked.

“If you have any appetite,’ said Little Mamma
solemnly.

At that moment the door-bell rang, and before
anything more was said Elsa marched into the room,
bringing with her her usual air of prosperity and
brusque good-will.

“Siegmund has sent me to ask you to supper to-
night,” she said to Brenda almost at once. “The car
shall fetch you and bring you back.”

Brenda looked from one woman to the other, and
saw that they were all bristling with indignation.

“But what is happening to-night?” she asked.

“She does not know,” groaned Little Mamma. “She
has not understood how to win my beloved boy’s con-,
fidence and affection.”

“I cannot be too thankful that August looks down
on women as he does,” bleated Mina. ‘He told me
the other day that a woman could not even be good
unless she had a man to help her.”

“Quatsch!” said Elsa shortly. “Women don’t run
after August as they do after Lothar.”

“I wish you would tell me what you all mean,”
cried Brenda. ‘What is happening to-night?”

“Lothar is giving a supper to twenty people in honor
of Frau Prassler’s birthday,” said Elsa. “Her hus-
band, as you know, is away.”

“I didn’t know,” murmured, Brenda. She felt
SALT OF THE EARTH 161

confused and annoyed, but her instinct was to defend
Lothar.

“There is safety in numbers,” she said. “A supper
to which twenty people are invited is . . .”

“What is it?”

“Well . . . a supper to twenty people! If he were
entertaining the beautiful Jutta by herself in a cabinet
particulier...”

Frau Erdmann shuffled uneasily in her chair and
cleared her throat.

“A virtuous young wife should not know that such’
things exist,” she pointed out. “They are a French
invention.”

Brenda was virtuous, but neither deaf nor blind,
so she knew enough of the underworld in Berlin to
know that the devil would have been pleased with
its flourishing condition; and by the underworld she
did not mean the poor, but the vicious. It would not
have surprised her to find that the beautiful Jutta took
her pleasures with it, in secret and expensively.

“Aber Brenda,” said Mina, “you forget what such
a supper costs. They will drink champagne.”

“No doubt,” said Brenda.

“Tf you did your duty as a wife you would stop it,
even now, at the eleventh hour,” said Little Mamma.

“How can I possibly do that?” cried Brenda.

' “You could telegraph to Frau Prassler in Lothar’s
name and tell her he was called away on urgent busi-
ness, that the supper would not take place and that
she must inform the other guests,” said Mina. “In
August’s opinion that would be the best course, but
it needs courage; possibly more than a woman ever
possesses. You would not tell Lothar what you had
done till it was too late for him to give counter-orders.
Naturally, he would be annoyed.”

“Yes! I think we may take it that he would be
annoyed,” said Brenda.

“T shvuld insist on going to the supper myself and
162 SALT OF THE EARTH

taking the head of the table,” said Elsa. “If a little
snake-cat like Jutta got hold of Siegmund, I should
simply trample on her.”

“T wish I could trample,” said Brenda reflectively.
“T’m sure that it is a useful thing to do in some cases.”

“I should sit on Lothar’s knee, put my arms round
his neck and ask him if he still loved his little wife,”
said Little Mamma, whose ponderous body and com-
manding spirit did not shut out a strain of sugary
sentiment that never touched the cold English heart of
her daughter-in-law.

None of these plans commended themselves to
Brenda, and with some difficulty she avoided com-
mitting herself to one and all of them. The three
ladies stayed some time, hoping that Lothar would
come home and promising, if he did, to speak plainly
to him. But he did not come, and at last, with
gloomy faces, they departed. It had been discovered
that Elsa meant to regale Brenda with venison and
champagne as ‘balm to her wounded feelings, so Little
Mamma had magnanimously withdrawn her invitation,
only observing that life became sad when old people
found themselves persistently neglected. A sharp but
short altercation proved that the younger members of
the family had twice as many meals with her as with
each other; and then, assuring Elsa that she would
be ready when the car arrived, Brenda shut the door
after them. When she had done so she went into the
kitchen to tell the cook no supper would be required,
and as she came away Lothar let himself into the
hall.

“Tell Fritz to come to my dressing-room,” he said
to his wife.

. Fritz’ was Lothar’s servant, a clumsy young peasant
in uniform, bullied by his master and befriended by
Brenda whom he adored. He looked after Lothar’s
clothes, waited at table, broke glass and china, and
muddled every errand intrusted to him. When
SALT OF THE EARTH 163

Lothar struck him he blubbered, when the cook
quarreled with him he answered her back and threat-
ened to thrash her. Brenda found that he had a dog’s
patience and fidelity, but none of the knowledge or
deftness you require for a parlormaid; and he was
her only substitute for a parlormaid. She knew
that he was in the kitchen when her husband asked
for him, and she thought that Lothar might have
rung for the boy himself. One of the pin-pricks that
she felt in her daily life was her husband’s way of
issuing orders in surly tones. The discourtesy of it
always rankled, and to-night it angered her. She
said nothing, but returned to the dining-room and
rang the bell. Lothar followed her.

“Did you hear what I said?” he cried, raising his
voice unnecessarily. “Isn’t the fellow in the kitchen?
Have you sent him out again on some fool’s errand
just when I want him?”

As he spoke the door opened and Fritz appeared,
standing at attention and saluting with grave decorum
when his master addressed him as a stupid beast and
told him to get a bath ready at once. Brenda sat down
in an easy chair that she habitually used. On a table
near her were some books and magazines, her work-
basket, and a pot of pink tulips that Siegmund had
brought her last week. On the dinner-table were the
tea things, and Lothar noticed at once that four cups

had been used.
: “Who has been here?” he asked.

“Your mother and sisters.”

“All three of them! Had they been invited? I
had not been told.”

“They came unexpectedly.”

“Had they arranged with each other to meet here,
then?”

“T did not ask them that.”

Brenda wanted to act with dignity and wisdom,
but she could not conceal the fact that she was troubled.
164 SALT OF THE EARTH

Her very reticence showed it and so did her face.

“Well!” said Lothar, getting up. “I'll say good
night. I may be late.”

“Good night!” said Brenda.

“What’s it all about?” asked Lothar. “What have
my mother and sisters been saying to you?”

On the spur of the moment Brenda decided to tell
him. If she could have kept her knowledge from him
she would probably have done so, but she knew that
next time he met any of his family the affair would
be brought forward and discussed in every key.

“They told me you were giving a supper party to-
night in honor of Frau Prassler’s birthday,” she said.

“How did they ferret it out? © Have you been
opening my letters?”

“They came to ask me to supper. At least, Elsa
is sending the car for me. It is time for me to go and
get ready.”

“Curse all female mischief-makers,” roared Lothar.
“Have I a right to ask my friends to supper or have I
not? Answer me that!”

“T should say that you had not,” replied Brenda.
“We can’t afford it.”

“What we can afford is not your business. Iam
the judge of that, as I have often told you.”

Brenda was the last woman in the world to deal
effectually with a man like Lothar. She possessed
none of the coarse fighting qualities necessary to worst
him, and she felt degraded by a wrangle. Her nature
was contemplative, peaceable and affectionate. Her
strength lay in her candor and intelligence. She
found happiness in books, flowers, music, in sane
friendships, and in the little everyday events of life.
Quarrels distressed her beyond measure, and it was
easier to submit than to resist except when her sense
of right and wrong was called into play. Since the
day of her dinner party and of Frau Prassler’s imper-
tinent interference with her table, various small signs
SALT OF THE EARTH 165

had confirmed the impression she had received then:
the impression of an intimacy that was hostile to her
and had gone considerable length. Lothar was more
difficult to please than he had ever been before, more
surly and in a state of restlessness that she could read
like an open book. He watched for letters and tele-
grams, he rushed to the ’phone himself, he stayed out
for hours together when she knew he might have been
at home. In fact, he hardly troubled to conceal his
state of mind from his wife, and lately, in speaking of
a woman notoriously neglected by her husband, he had
taken the man’s part.

“Tf a wife cannot hold her husband she deserves to
lose him,” he had said.

Brenda had not disputed the point. She knew by
this time that their moral views were divergent, and
that Lothar was in the world to enjoy himself to the
best of his ability. She did not know what more
she could say to-night about the supper party, because
she had never yet spoken to him about his attachment
to Frau Prassler. She shrank from an argument that
could avail her nothing; for she felt sure that he
would deny it and go his ways. But she felt weary
and sick at heart, and it was without any idea of
vexing him that she took a book from the table and
opened it. To her horror and amazement he dashed
forward, snatched it violently from her hands and
hurled it across the room.

“Insolence I will not endure,’ he shouted.

Brenda felt so stunned by this onslaught that at
first she said nothing.

‘When I speak you will answer,” screamed Lothar,
and banged his fist on the table. “It is your usual
trick, to treat me as if I were beneath your notice.
I will show you that I am not.”

“But I have nothing to say,” answered Brenda.
’ “You lay down the law and I listen. That is how
vou interpret our relationship, so why have any
166 SALT OF THE EARTH

arguments? Let us wish each other a pleasant
evening and say no more about it.”

“I forbid you to go to the Abels to-night,” said
Lothar. “I mark my displeasure in that way. Let
the Jew know that I will not allow my wife and sister
to intrigue against me behind my back.”

When Lothar was annoyed with the Abels he always
spoke of Siegmund as the Jew; and by this time
Brenda knew that in her husband’s family quarrels
were noisy and of daily occurrence, but did not last.
Next week Lothar would probably speak of Elsa with
demonstrative affection, and ask the Jew his opinion
of a new operatic star. Like a pack of children they
were socially a pack of ill-mannered, bad-tempered
children. But Brenda believed that if she defied
Lothar and said she would go to the Abels to supper,
he was capable of using physical force to prevent it.
So, feeling in sympathy with those fabulous persons
whom fate places in the power of giants as strong as
they are tiresome and stupid, Brenda moved languidly
across the room to ring the bell. She knew that it
would be an infringement of his dignity to ask him to
ring it for her.

“Will you ‘phone to Elsa or shall I?” she asked.

“IT will, and I shall tell her what I think,” said
Lothar.

Brenda did not want a fresh brawl or she would
have reminded him that the telephone was close to
the kitchen door and that anything he said could be
heard by Fritz and the cook. However, after inform-
ing his sister in German that Brenda was staying at
home by his desire, he went on in English and dis-
played a power,of invective that did him credit as
a linguist. Apparently Elsa said a few words, too,
for the interview lasted some minutes, and when Lo-
thar came into the room again he looked red in the
face and angrier than ever. Brenda had picked up
her Keats, the book he had thrown across the room,
SALT OF THE EARTH 167

straightened out the leaves and opened it at the Ode
to a Nightingale. :

“I have told Elsa that you are not going to them,”
said Lothar.

“Yes. I heard you.”

“T explained that I allow no one to dictate to me
what Iam todo. Iama man.”

“T heard all you said, but I didn’t hear Elsa.”

“Elsa said Quatsch. That is what a woman calls
argument. J informed her that rudeness was not
argument. Has Fritz made my bath ready?”

“He has not been in to say so.”

“Why have you not been out to superintend him?
A wife who has no consideration for her husband’s
comfort cannot be surprised if he seeks the society
of those who know how to value him. Do not trouble
yourself to get up, I beg. Why should you disturb
yourself? I hear Fritz coming.”

He clattered out of the room and Brenda heard him
“washing” Fritz’s head because the bath had taken
‘so long. Then the bathroom door banged and peace
descended upon the flat for twenty minutes. Brenda
finished the Ode to a Nightingale.

Magic casements, opening on the foam
Of perilous seas, in faéry lands forlorn.

That always conjured up Treva and those moonlit
nights when the sea broke in clouds of spray over the
rocks, and she, arm in arm with dear Andrew Lovel,
clambered close down to the water. She could see
the quiet pools left in places at low tide, she could
remember the delicious freshness of seaweed and the
taste of salt on her lips. All the glamour of poetry
was in heaven and in earth out there, and indoors
the sane peace and order of civilized life. She had
been terribly homesick lately. While Lothar’s passion
for her lasted, though she knew she had been crazy
168 SALT OF THE EARTH

to marry him, she felt at any rate that she had given
him what he greatly desired; and a woman of Brenda’s
temperament finds some satisfaction in that. But
now she neither gave nor received. His indifference
to her became more marked as his infatuation for
Frau Prassler grew deeper. He took no interest in
her doings or pleasure in her companionship. Directly
they were by themselves he was morose and bored,
and if she wanted to keep him in a bearable humior
she had to have some third person present; one of
his fellow-officers for choice. She would have been
glad to avoid the beautiful Jutta altogether, but found
it impossible. Lothar constantly went to her house,
and asked her to his, too. The day after the supper
party he told Brenda that Prassler was back and that
he and his wife would come to tea on Sunday. This
one and that one might be asked to meet them, but
none of the family should come. He had not forgiven
them yet.

“Suppose they come unasked?” suggested Brenda.

“That we must risk,” decided Lothar.

So what happened on Sunday annoyed him ex-.
tremely. The room seemed to be full of uniforms
and high harsh voices. The beautiful Jutta sat among
them in a marvelous creation of velvet and sables,
Lothar had just found a corner at his charmer’s side,
and all was going merry as a marriage bell, when the
door opened and in walked August, Mina and their
two potato-nosed children—the two elder ones, both
boys. The whole family was dressed as their class
does dress in Germany, and they were all visibly per-
turbed by the unexpected smart gathering at Lothar’s
house. Perturbed and affronted! For the Zorns be-
longed to that troublesome breed of people who are
socially uncivilized themselves and resent civilization
in others; and what can be more civilized than a
combination of gray uniforms and sables? August
was a professor certainly, but he was an unimportant
SALT OF THE EARTH 169

one; and since Mina, the ugly duckling of the family,
had married him, her brother and sister had both
climbed to rather higher spheres in Berlin society
than they had been born to. The people in Lothar’s
salon this afternoon knew that grubby little professors
existed, but they were not related to them, nor did
their womenkind look as grotesque as Mina in her
slate-colored Reflormkleid, cotton gloves, and a hat in
the model of 1911 as big asa tea-tray. The boys were
little objects, too, in cheap snuff-colored suits lavishly
trimmed with braid. The beautiful Jutta had probably
been in the same room with their parents before when
she went to Elsa’s large parties, but at large parties it
is easy to avoid people. At any rate, she did
not appear to know them and bowed frigidly when
introduced.

“We did not know you had a party,” said Mina.
“Perhaps we ought not to have come.”

“T hope that we are as welcome in your brother’s
house as we make him in ours on all occasions,” said
August.

Brenda did her best, gave August and Mina tea,
stayed the children with cakes, talked to them all
pleasantly and assured them that they had not driven
the colonel away by their arrival. He doubtless had
an engagement elsewhere.

“You say SO, but the moment we sat down near
him he got up,” persisted August. “It was most
marked. Was it not, wife?”

“Perhaps he doesn’t like children,” said Mina,
offering her handkerchief to one of her own who
badly required it, and rebuking the other because he
was wiping his hands on Brenda’s teacloth. This
so flurried him that he jerked back his chair, and in
doing so butted into the beautiful Jutta herself. Her
cup of tea was nearly but not quite spilled over her
velvet gown and some of it did spill into the saucer.
With a little shriek of anger and surprise she put it
170 SALT OF THE EARTH

into the hands of the man nearest her and got up
to go.

“You didn’t tell me it was to be a children’s party,”
she said to Brenda with an affected laugh.

“But you are not going,” cried Lothar with uncon-
cealed concern. “You have only just come.”

“T’m afraid I really must,” she said, and would
not be persuaded. Her departure seemed to be a
signal for every one else to go except the Zorns, who
stayed on and on, not seeing apparently that Lothar
could hardly contain his anger with them. Or did
they see and stay in spite of it? Brenda hardly knew,
for the working of their minds and the intricacies
of their quarrels were difficult to follow.

“T hear your supper party was a great success,”
August said when at last he was about to leave.

“How did you hear it?” snapped Lothar.

“Our cook’s brother is a waiter,” said. Mina simply.

Lothar shrugged his shoulders, bid his sister a curt
good night and returned to the salon.

“You engineered this,” he said to Brenda. “You
arranged that the Zorns and their disgusting children
should tumble in on us and spoil the afternoon.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“Of course I believe it.”

“T did not know they were coming.”

“You lie.”

Brenda knew that nothing angered her husband like
contemptuous silence, and she did not wish to anger
him. His outbursts of rage had physical effects on
her that she dreaded for the sake of her child. That
was why she had told him plainly that she had not
known the Zorns were coming. But what more
could she say when he went on to accuse her of lying?
What can a truthful person say under such circum-
stances?

“Every one English lies,” screamed Lothar.

Brenda turned from him disdainfully.
SALT OF THE EARTH 171

“I shall ask Mina whether you invited her. Mina
is in the highest degree truthful, like all Germans. I
wish I had married one.”

“T wish you had,” said Brenda, and miserable as
she was, could have smiled because he looked quite
taken aback. '

“You mean that!” he exclaimed.

“Do you imagine that I am happy?” i
“T don’t think about it. Why should you not be
happy? You are a married woman and have a good

home. What more can a woman want?”

Brenda made no attempt to tell him, and after a
few heated remarks about the unreasonableness of
women he was obliged to leave her. He was on duty
at the barracks that night and she did not see him
again until the following day.
XV

HE child was to be a German. That was
made plain to Brenda from the beginning.
The stork was to be a German stork, the baby
would live in a Steckkissen and be laboriously guarded
from draughts. The nurse would come from the
‘Spreewald and wear the picturesque costume that
brings heavy laundry bills to its employers: and the
little citizen’s name would be either Wilhelm Gustav,
or Sophie Marie, after its grandparents. All these
things were settled by the family in conclave with
Lothar, who had restored himself to favor by the
simple means of telling Brenda to order a large Braten
and have the whole clamjamphrie to supper one night.
A salmon mayonnaise in front of the Braten, an ice
in the shape of a stork to follow and a few bottles
of good Rhine wine put even August into a better
humor than usual; and he proposed the health of
Wilhelm Gustav without a single unpleasant allusion
- to the expected one’s foreign mother. But after supper
she put her foot into it by confessing when she was
asked outright that as names none of the four chosen
pleased her. She actually liked the English version
of two of them better than the German. William and
Mary were both fine names, she said; Gustav and
Sophie she did not like.

“Then you have no taste,” screamed the Erdmanns
and the Zorns in chorus; “they are singularly
distinguished. A person who cannot see that has no

172
SALT OF THE EARTH 173

taste. The English have no taste and no art and no
literature. It is well known.”

Brenda never argued with the family when it got
epileptic about England. You canfot argue with the
insane, and after living among Prussians for six
months she knew that however level-headed they were
in other ways they were a people possessed with regard
to England. She still believed in the Germany she
loved, for here and there she found it, among kindly
people leading simple laborious lives. But they did
not occupy the foreground. She detested the modern
German foreground with its coarse efficiency, its brag,
and its malevolence. So well informed all Germans
were, so cultured, so superior to the rest of the world;
and the rest of the world did not see it, but would soon
be made to—especially England.

Then Brenda began to compare the two countries,
and, as well as she could, pass judgment. Where did
England . . . her England, fail and so deserve its
impending doom? By the mass she could not tell,
for of high politics she knew nothing and of economics
not much. She saw that the poorer classes in Berlin
were more tidily and sensibly clothed than in London;
she saw that the streets were cleaner and that the
restaurants gave you more for your mcney. She knew
that you could get delightfully cheap seats at some
theaters, and that as a rule neither love nor money
would procure you seats for Wagner opera, but only
tedious waiting in a queue on Sunday morning. She
had seen “The Merchant of Venice” played in Berlin,
and found that the superman took Portia not for
a great lady but for a giggling minx, who kicked
up her heels in the first act and was pert in the
third. She understood that when summer came there
would be open-air concerts in all the beer gardens and
cheap trips by steamer to Potsdam. In fact, she
understood that in some respects life in Berlin had
the advantage of London; but she could not see
174 SALT OF THE EARTH

that it triumphed all along the line. In fact, she
considered that in some ways England was ahead of
Germany, though she knew it would be heresy to say
so. She thought that London shops were more con-
venient and business-like; that English servants were
more civilized; that Englishmen were handsomer
and better dressed; that the English had pleasanter
manners; that the educated people were less boastful
and people of all classes more good-humored. All
these conclusions were concerned with the common-
places of experience, but the conviction that they were
true was more and more borne in on her. The

‘subtler differences between the nations, her new

s

knowledge of the soul of Germany as compared with
her lifelong knowledge of the English soul she could
not have put into words at all, but sensed them like
an aroma or a melody. What puzzled her was her
own soul. As, after all, she was German by blood,
and only English by birth and upbringing, why should.
every pulse of her heart beat for England with a
singleness of affection that nothing could disturb or
weaken? There was no doubt that it did and that
she gave umbrage whenever she betrayed herself. She
tried in vain to glide over difficult places, so as not
xo betray herself, but she found that with many Ger-
mans gliding was impossible. If you tried to slip
away, a heavy hand recalled you.

“English people never wish to be Germans,” said
August resentfully.

“T suppose not,” said Brenda, and asked after the
children; but that did not help her.

. “Why should you suppose not?” he asked. “Why
should you insult the most civilized and progressive
nation in the world by supposing that no one wants
to belong to it. That is what we find so intolerable
in the English. They give themselves airs, although
their day is over. A nation of vagabonds who pretend
to be something great! Rotten to the core! As you
SALT OF THE EARTH 175

have been educated in England .. . educated ... God
save the mark . . . of course you know no history

. so you do not know that the whole Empire has
been got together by robbery and murder and will
fall to pieces at a touch. Your race is hated as no
other race is hated, wherever it goes. Perhaps you do
not know that either.”

“T do not,” said Brenda. “I never shall know it.”

“Can’t you hear what I say, then?’

As by this time he was sea-green with fury and
bawling at the top of his disagreeable voice, Brenda
could hear till her head ached and wondered whether
the Empire would mind much if in order to stop him
she gave it away.

“Take it,” she said, holding out her empty hands.

“Take what?” .

“The British Empire: all I have to give of it.
Carry it to a corner as a tiger does a bone. Tear it.
Bite it. Scream from the housetops that you hate it.
Ask heaven for lightning ‘and see what happens.”

“Are you crazy?”

“T don’t think so. But I’m sick and tired. We
have a saying about curses coming home to roost.
Have you ever heard it?”

“Of course I have heard it,” said August, and asked
his wife what Brenda was talking about, and whether
perhaps she was feverish.

But wherever Brenda went she came across August’s
opinions more or less openly expressed. England
was the enemy. England possessed, but was too
decadent to keep, what Germany rightfully wanted.
English people must not be told plainly that the Ger-
man sword hung over them, because before long they
were to be caught napping. But supermen appointed
by the Almighty to scourge them could not always
keep their intentions hidden.

Sometimes Brenda laughed, sometimes she grew
angry, often she wished that she could convey her’
176 SALT OF THE EARTH

impressions of the national mood to English people;
but when, for instance, she thought of explaining
August to the Lovels of Treva her imagination refused
to work. The Lovels would never believe that here
in Berlin whole tribes of unconsidered Germans were
boiling over with hatred of them. They were not

’ boiling over with hatred of Lothar in his uniform

we

and. August raving in his chair. They would have
seen that Lothar was a smart, personable officer, faith-
ful to his duty but distastefully arrogant. Then they
would have thought no more about him. As for
August, you could not conceive that such an offensive
worm had ever come across their path.

If he had they would have used a pouncet-box and
ee him by. Was it here that England’s danger
ay? In its blindness to the sharpened sword and its
indifference to venomous worms? Or was the sword
of Britain rusty and the lion become a sheep, bleating
about the easily hurt feelings of a great friendly
nation? In no single instance did Brenda find
friendliness in Germany towards England, although
in many cases people treated her kindly, explaining
always in the tactful German way that they had no
quarrel with English individuals, but only with Eng-
lish politics and manners. As for proffers of friend-
ship from England, Brenda heard them openly spoken
of with cynical disdain. They were taken for signs
ot fear.

For her child’s sake Brenda tried to live in an
atmosphere of her own and avoid all those who broke
her peace. She read a great deal and put much fine
stitching and delicate embroidery into little garments.
She tended the indoor palms the family had given her
at Christmas, and when she walked as far as the
Thiergarten she watched longingly for spring. Lothar
was constantly out, and as she believed, dancing
attendance on Frau Prassler. She wondered if Major
Prassler felt as lonely as she did, and what he thought
SALT OF THE, EARTH “197

of the affair. It had ech an, “affair.” Brenda
saw it in the eyes of her friends.and heard it in hostile
innuendoes. She herself was. pitied by some and
derided by others. The family blamed her because,
they argued, a woman is not deserted by her husband
unless she has been either stupid or disagreeable. Any
man will stray if he is not cleverly shepherded, said
Little Mamma. From the first Brenda refused to
discuss Lothar with his family, thereby offending
them mortally. She was very unhappy as regards
her husband, but full of tender hopes as regards her
child; that little citizen who might conceivably perform
a miracle and bring his father and mother together
again. Brenda thought she knew the best and worst
of Lothar by this time, and as marriage lasts for
life she meant to fulfill her part in the covenant as
well as she could. He was not the man of her dreams,
“but he was the man she had married, and by his
side she must dree her weird. A separation, or,
worse still, divorce, had never entered her head as
. possible. The little citizen put that outside the range
of thought.

But life is difficult beside a man who openly courts
another woman, hangs upon her words, seeks her com-
pany, and brings her as much as possible into his
house. Even if the beautiful Jutta had been a lov-
able, warm-hearted woman, the spectacle of Lothar’s
infatuation for her must necessarily have frozen his
wife. But Jutta was not lovable or warm-hearted,
or even well bred. She was smart with a German
stnartness, that is not a thing in itself but aped from
Paris and Vienna. Her arrogance reached a pitch
that has to be seen in its native setting to be believed.
She had: a way of sawing the air with her hand as
she laid.down the law that Brenda had read of in
old-fashioned novels, but never expected to see in real
life. You could not argue with her. You were not:
permitted to speak even when you knew that she was
178 SALT OF THE EARTH

wrong: as, for instance, when she said that no one
in England read Shakespeare now because every one
there was too ignorant to understand his archaic Eng-
lish. She added on this occasion that she disagreed
with her country-people who all greatly preferred the
German translation to the original, and that when
she went to a Shakespeare play herself she usually
read the English version either before or after. “But
you are so geistreich, and have had such a brilliant
education,” murmured Lothar. Like every one Brenda
met in Berlin, she hated the English and displayed
the puzzling blend of information and ignorance that
makes the average German right in his facts and
wrong in his judgments. Compared with Brenda, she
knew nothing of literature and music, but she started
from the point all Germans start from, and maintained
that in England literature hardly exists and music is
unknown. She had never been in England or as-
sociated with English people, but she had seen them
in Italy and Switzerland. They behaved as if they
owned the world, dressed atrociously, got hot over
games and kept to themselves. They were an effete
race, swollen with pride and greed, doomed to
destruction.

“T really’ do wonder what would happen if I told
some of these people what I thought of Germany,”
Brenda said to Lothar one day. “You all take for
granted that you are the salt of the earth, but I have
my doubts. You are very efficient and prosperous,
but where are your souls?”

“We don’t believe in souls,” said Lothar. “You
have to admit that we are efficient and prosperous.
Some day you will discover. how formidable we are.
We shall leave you your souls; any of you whose
bodies survive. We shall not leave you anything
else.”

“You seem to think that we shall have no power of
resistance.”
SALT OF THE EARTH 179

“We are not so foolish, We know the exact
measure of your power and are not afraid of it. We
mean to be top dog. England stands in our way
and must be crushed. It is as simple as the multi-
plication table.”

“England has never been crushed.”

“She has never been attacked by Germany.”

“I constantly meet people who say that you have
no designs on us, and that your navy is built to protect
your mercantile marine.”

“Our navy is built to crush your navy. When the day
comes, with the help of our aircraft we shall do it.”

Tt all sounded like bombast, and yet it troubled
Brenda because the longer she lived in Germany the
more she learned to believe that the whole nation was
being led and trained towards this one idea. Under-
neath the silly explosions of jealousy and hate there
was a sinister intention that the great qualities of the
people, their method, industry and brain power were
all to serve at the appointed time. Then she thought
of England, dearly loved, generous and unsuspicious
of evil. « It would not be warned. It would not
be ready. It would pay an awful price in blood and
tears. She began to write home of what she heard
in Berlin, but they wrote back of troubles in Ireland
and about the crazy doings of the militant suffragettes.
In May Mrs. Miller was coming to Berlin, and she
wrote in March of summer plans. If they took a
house at Cromer, would Lothar, Brenda and the little
citizen all come over for August and stay with them?
The house in question must be taken at Easter, and
would be too big for them unless Lothar and Brenda
came. But Brenda could not get Lothar to make
plans so long beforehand. He said that he would
probably be going to England in June on service busi-
ness and that he did not know whether he could get
leave in August.

So life went on through the early spring, slowly and
180: SALT OF THE EARTH

heavily.. Lothar was very little at home, and when
he was did not make himself agreeable. According
to his temper Brenda could give a good guess at Jutta’s
treatment of him. She judged her rival to be one
of those self-centered cold coquettes who will go
great lengths to enslave a man, but wish to remain
on the safe side socially. Lothar had had many
predecessors, and though there had been gossip there
had been no public scandal. Brenda, who had grown
up among estimable, rather humdrum people, had
never met any one before who seemed to ensnare men
like a courtesan and yet keep her place as a matron.
She was not ensnared herself, so she saw the beau-
tiful Jutta for what she was, a vain, shallow woman
who wore bizarre, gorgeous clothes, had dimly-lighted
luxurious rooms, and though she talked like a pedant
made eyes like a hussy. One night when much
against her will Brenda had been obliged to sup at
her house, she say Jutta and Lothar sitting together
in the small inner room opening out of the large salon.
Jutta lay on a divan all gold and vivid purple, her
oyster-white gown was nearly as tight as a serpent’s
ekin, and so transparent that at supper Brenda had
felt uncomfortable when her eyes fell on it. Perhaps

her eyes betrayed her. At any rate, Jutta’s catlike
' glance showed fury when it fell on Brenda, and from
that night she grappled Lothar to her more closely
than ever. Nor was she content unless his wife was
witness of her power over him. She would make any
excuse to inflict her presence on Brenda, although
she must have seen that she was unwelcome. The
sound of her voice, the swing of her body, the scent
she used, the falseness of her smile, anything and
everything about her so wrought on Brenda that it
became a torture to be in the same room with this
woman, but she was spared no meeting and no humilia-
tion that Jutta could bring about. Every effort
that Brenda made to avoid her led to such violent
SALT OF THE EARTH 181

scenes with Lothar that it became easier to endure
than to resist. One night early in March when winter
had come back to northern Germany with driving
snowstorms, frost and ice, she found herself in a
theater, although she had begged Lothar to let her stay
at home. But Jutta had taken a box on purpose for
her, a roomy retired box where Brenda could sit al-
most unseen; and the play was a new one by a new
writer. The whole city was rushing to see it because
it outdid Wedekind himself in bestiality. That Brenda
shuddered at the thought of seeing it only proved
that she was narrow and wanting in Kultur. The
play was the last word in the macabre, said Jutta,
a crescendo of blood, lust and cruelty. The very
children in it were wantons, and the men and women
maniacs. You shuddered, but you enjoyed; for
the psychology was subtle and the language highly
poetical.

“T have seen it three times,” said Jutta, gloating.

“I would rather not see it at all,’ said Brenda,
and when Jutta had gone she tried to explain to
Lothar that horrors were not good for the little citizen.
But he only said that her arguments were Frauen-
geschwitz, and that it would offend Frau Prassler
deeply if she stayed away.

That was what constantly happened, Brenda found.
Under the guise of kindness Jutta did her a bad turn,
and with honeyed epithets she said things that rankled
and made mischief. Outwardly she was the atten-
tive friend, bringing gifts and invitations; but in-
wardly she hated Brenda because she was injuring
her and because Brenda would not kneel at her shrine.
She was trying to take everything from the wife and
yet of the two women she was the more angry and
dissatisfied. For in a sense Brenda could only be
vanquished superficially. She was ill in body and
troubled in spirit, but she kept alive within her the
soul that showed in her tranquil eyes. The horrible
182 SALT OF THE EARTH

play sickened her with its falsity to life and
its searchlights thrown over an obscene underworld
not guessed at by the sane. The author was not a
Satan but just a Schmutzfink who knew his public.
When in the last act a character called Dr. Crippen,
made up in a livid face and Victorian whiskers,
jumped through a window on to the stage and mur-
dered a wanton just enjoying an epileptic fit, Jutta
breathed in sighs and murmured to Lothar that this
was genius; but Brenda laughed, because if she had
not laughed she would have cried to think that any
people in the world were silly and depraved enough.
to.applaud such drivel.

“In London the censor would forbid this play,” said
Jutta, looking annoyed.

“No doubt,” said Brenda.

“Yet you call yourself a free people. Freedom of:
thought is unknown amongst you.”

Brenda allowed Major Prassler, who made one of
their party, to help her on with her fur coat, while Lo-
thar hung over Jutta, trying to discover the sleeves of
an elaborate black and gold creation trimmed with pel-
try. You inevitably thought in fashion-article English
when you looked at Jutta’s clothes, and could imagine
her wearing a hat decorated with légumes that on any
one else’s head you would have called vegetables.

“T would also remind you that Dr. Crippen was an
Englishman,” said Jutta as they left the box. “You
censor a play about crimes that you commit. I prefer
our German freedom and honesty.”

“T like to laugh at comedy and be thrilled by trag-
edy,” observed Brenda, who did not dare to say that
in a seaside place where they had spent a summer holi-
day she had actually heard of a play about Dr. Crippen
given in a barn by a troupe of strolling players. Some
of the servants had gone to it. But it had probably
been innocent low-life melodrama compared with that
she had just seen.
SALT OF THE EARTH 183

Jutta did not answer her because she had gone on
ahead with Lothar. When they all emerged from the
theater they stood at the top of a tall flight of steps
slippery with half-frozen snow. The storm was in-
creasing, the wind howled past them, driving the snow
aslant before it. The crowd either fled through it or
scurried into cars and taxis. The gendarmes on duty
were powdered with snow, and the whole open square
was heaped with it. Major Prassler had ordered his
car to fetch them, but though he went to look for it
he did not reappear. Jutta, whose temper had been
abominable the whole evening, seemed to Brenda to
lose the last vestige of self-control. The cold and the
driving storm were more than she could bear, and she
saw that the theater doors were about to be closed
behind them. With a sudden exclamation of impa-
tience she gathered up her skirts and called to Lothar
to follow her and find a taxi.

Of Brenda, who stood close to her, she took no
notice at all. But as she turned to Lothar she slipped
slightly, recovered herself at once, and in doing so
pushed against Brenda, who was taken by surprise.
Brenda tried desperately to right herself, but failed,
and fell headlong down the half-frozen flight of steps.
Gendarmes went to her help. She did not lose con-
sciousness at first, but looked round for Lothar when
she was helped up. He had disappeared with Jutta
in the darkness, and she could imagine that amidst the
noise of the storm and the flurry of the crowd he
had neither seen her fall nor heard her cry. Strangers
helped her home and that night the little citizen who
was to be a German came into the world, but after
drawing a feeble breath departed again,
XVI

ITTLE Mamma was offended! So was Mina!
So above all was August, the learned cackling
August, who had raised his voice outside the
sick-room and had been requested to lower it because
Brenda, after great suffering, had fallen asleep. The
impertinence of the woman from London now usurp-
ing a position of authority in a good German house!
Her daring! Her offensive silences! Her still more
offensive remarks! Her deeds! Her money! August’s
teeth actually grated on each other when he talked
of Mrs. Miiller’s money and her shameless way of
using it.

She had brought a trained nurse with her in case
she should be wanted; and she was wanted. English
intrigue again! The worthy Frau Henning had been
clean enough and quiet enough for Mina. Why not
for Brenda, then? It was not Frau Henning’s fault
if Brenda had been found at death’s door in a carefully
curtained room, lost to the real world and wandering
crazily in one all pain. Frau Henning said she left
everything in God’s hands and fell asleep on the sofa,
having supped heartily. The good honest Frau Hen-
ning! August danced with rage when he heard of the
way in which Mrs. Miiller had summarily bundled her
out of the house and installed the frigid automaton
who would allow no stranger in her patient’s room
and looked at August as if he was an insect of no
importance.

“T am Herr Professor Zorn,” he said, puffing out

184
SALT OF THE EARTH 185

the organ he fed so carefully and generously four
times a day. —

“Tl tell. Mrs. Miiller you called,” said the nurse,
who had been summoned by the pearl.

“T have come to see my sister-in-law,” he said. “T

_ wish to judge for myself whether she is ill or merely

giving way to nerves.”

“Are you a doctor?”

“What has that to do with it? A Jay eye some-
times sees more than an initiated one.’

“Mrs. Erdmann can’t see any one yet.”

It was at this moment that August began to awl,
and Mrs. Miiller, coming out of the dining-room, re-
quested him to lower his voice. ‘They had not met
before, and in two minutes Mrs. Miller hoped they
need never meet again. She did not know much about
professors, and the titles on the card he presented to
introduce himself impressed her less than his harsh
voice and obvious want of manners. However, she
took him into the dining-room, and as they sat down
she told him that Brenda was seriously ill.

“T am not surprised to hear it,” said August.

“No one can be surprised, considering what hap-
pened,” said Mrs. Miller.

“What happened was accidental. I am thinking of
causes further back. Ever since your daughter came
amongst us she has been ailing and depressed. A young
wife about to become a mother has no right to be
depressed. It is her duty to be cheerful. But no doubt
Brenda’s constitution was undermined before marriage
by athletics and luxury.”

Mrs. Miiller’s shrewd eyes took August’s measure,
and her attention fixed itself on what he told her about
her child; for Brenda’s letters had told her nothing
positive. They had betrayed more by what they left
out than by what they said; and if the Millers were
uneasy they told each other they had nothing but their
suspicions to go on.
186 SALT OF THE EARTH

“I can understand that Brenda was ailing, but why
was she depressed ?”’ Mrs. Miiller said to August. “She
never was at home.”

“It would be better for every one concerned if she
had stayed at home.”

“T wish she had! Neither her father nor I desired
the marriage.”

“On what grounds?” cried August, beginning to
bristle at once. “Is a German officer not good enough
for any young woman whose father is in trade? We
have different ideas here, I can assure you.”

“Why was Brenda depressed?”

“Why is any one depressed? Such a question has
no sense. When I am depressed it is either because
my food has not agreed with me or because something
has gone wrong with my affairs.”

“What had gone wrong with Brenda’s affairs? I
cannot suppose that her food . . .”

“T am not going to be drawn into any Frauenklat-
scherei,” interrupted August. ‘My dignity forbids it.
If you want to know what has happened, ask the other
women of the family. None of them approved of
Brenda, but she was there and they tried to make the
best of it.”

“Why did none of them approve of Brenda?”

“My dear Frau Miiller! After all your name is
German, your blood is German. Your parents were
born in Berlin and your husband is a Heidelberger.
You must know that the standard reached by our
women is the highest in the world, and that Brenda
with her miserable English education and ignorance of
all a woman should understand, fails to touch it at
any point. This can neither be hidden nor denied.
To attempt to do either would be simply impudent.”

Mrs. Miiller looked at August. She did not answer
him, she did not smile, she did not grow angry. This,
you see, was one of her supercilious silences that
he could only meet by continuing to rave. But even an
SALT OF THE EARTH 187

August finds it difficult to go on raving when his
audience is as irresponsive as a wise, elderly dog to a
spitting cat.

“You must bring Mina to see me,” Mrs. Miiller said
after a time, and then she got up, dismissing him,
Professor August Zorn, a man, a scholar. Damned
old Englishwoman!

“But I told her she was a German,” he said to his
wife. “I rubbed it in. That annoyed her!”

August’s visit was only one link in a long chain of
evidence showing Mrs. Miiller that her daughter had
not been kindly treated by Lothar’s family and that
Lothar himself had not behaved well to his wife. Lit-
tle things and big things told her the same story.

“T cannot understand why Brenda chose these
hideous papers and carpets,” she said one rainy day
when the brown snakes in the dining-room looked
dingier and gloomier than usual.

“Brenda did not choose them,” said Lothar. “When
we artived we found our home ready for us to the
last nail. Do you mean to say that Brenda did not
tell you this in her letters?”

“T remember her saying that she found the flat in
order and the dinner on the table. She did not tell
us what it was like. She always wrote cheerfully.”

“How else should she have written? She was saved
all trouble and fatigue by the devotion of my mother
and sisters. But at the time she was not.pleased. She
even wished to do some things over again in a different
way.”

“‘She would have different ideas, you see,” said Mrs.
Miller. “In England .

“What you do in England cannot set the fashion in
Berlin. My mother and sisters have experience and
know how to combine the most refined taste with
economy. Besides, the color of a wall i is indifferent
to me.’

“You are not much at home, perhaps?”

mks
188 SALT OF THE EARTH

“That is what I say. I am so little at home that I
do not care whether my walls are brown, blue or
scarlet. I leave such matters to women.”

' “Your drawing-room looks as if it was never used,”
said Mrs, Miiller.

“Tt is only used when we entertain.”

“Doesn’t Brenda make a living-room of it?”

“Certainly not. Why should we light two stoves
when one will do?”

Mrs. Miller asked no more questions just then.
She had taken the housekeeping into her own hands
and had engaged two capable servants in place of the
pearl she had found howling in a dirty kitchen because
a mistress at the point of death upset her nerves. Mrs.
Miller had seen directly she arrived that she would be
needed for some time if Brenda lived, and she had
settled down for a prolonged stay with a son-in-law
who began by looking frosty and morose, but soon
melted a little because when he ate at home she made
him colossally comfortable.

“Tf only Brenda knew how to cater for a man as
you do,” he said one day after a meal of satisfying
excellence.

Mrs. Miiller did not tell Lothar at the time that she
was paying for most things herself, and-that the house-
keeping allowance he put down every week was insuffi-
cient. She did not understand yet why Brenda had
not run the house on more liberal lines, and contributed
what was necessary out of her own pocket. Whenever
she saw the Erdmanns and the Zorns she heard sour-
sweet allusions to Brenda’s inefficiency, and in the
house she came across various signs of stint and make-
shift that should have been unnecessary. However,
she could ask Brenda no questions yet.

Lothar had not been there when his wife had been
carried home by strangers after her headlong fall down
the steep flight of slippery steps. His thoughts and
his attention had all been given to Frau Prassler, they
SALT OF THE EARTH 189

had met Major Prassler directly they moved away
and all three had gone straight to the restaurant where
they had arranged to sup. Major Prassler had made
a short perfunctory search for Brenda, but he was not
a man to hang about in a winter storm, looking for a
silly woman who could not stay with her own party.

“T know exactly what she has done,” Lothar said.
“She has called a taxi and gone home by herself. She
has those independent ideas sometimes.”

“Very inconsiderate,” said Jutta. “She might have
teflected that we should be anxious about her.”

“Tt is not only inconsiderate, but it is impolite,”
said Major Prassler. “I, as her host, feel that side
of it.”

Lothar stifled any sense of uneasiness that might
have interfered with his supper by nursing his marital
anger. When he got home he would certainly rebuke
Brenda for her want of manners and of deference to
his wishes. Even if she had not felt very well she
should have consulted him before flying off home by
herself.

But when he got home he found a wife in labor, a
doctor as grave as a judge, the pearl in hysterics, a
fool of a nurse and Little Mamma insisting that
Brenda’s mother must be summoned at once. If Elsa
or Mina had ever been in the same condition, which ,
was unthinkable, she would have called down fire from’.
heaven on the heads of those who kept her from her
child. Little Mamma said other things that annoyed
Lothar exceedingly. She blamed him both for taking
Brenda to the theater and for allowing her to fall.

“The first reproach I accept. The second is ridic-
ulous,” said Lothar. “How could I have prevented
her from falling?”

“By attending to her instead of to another woman,”
said Little Mamma.

So Mrs. Miller came to a family divided against
itself, and so far as Brenda was concerned untender,

ee
No

190 SALT OF THE EARTH

She could not see that any one except Siegmund Abel
had much affection for her daughter, Lothar perhaps
least of all. He clattered in and out of the house,
gave his orders in his usual harsh nasal voice, asked
perfunctorily after his wife, lost his temper when the
least thing disturbed his‘comfort, and kept late hours.
Mrs. Miller liked some of Brenda’s friends much bet-
ter than her relations, but she could not discover that
any of those she saw were intimate in the house.
One afternoon, when Elsa Abel was present, the beau-
tiful Jutta appeared, bringing with her the reek of
scent and the suggestion of a world in which there was
neither trouble nor pain. She was dressed in the
height of the fashion, and her feline eyes appraised
what Mrs. Miiller and Elsa wore as she sat down to
talk to them. She brought with her half a dozen wired
roses tied with ribbon.

“How is our dear patient?” she asked, and Mrs.
Miller thought she had never heard a voice so hard
and metallic.

“I suppose Lothar tells you how she is every day,
or doesn’t he trouble to speak of his wife?” said Elsa,
to Mrs. Miiller’s amazement.

“T am sure that your brother is devoted to his little
wife,” said Jutta, “quite devoted. Naturally it has
been a sad disappointment to him .. .”

She sighed and delicately paused. Elsa gave a sort
of snort and asked how late the dancing had been kept
up at Toni Lieber’s Polterabend and whether it was
true that some Americans had given an exhibition of
the scandalous dances that were the rage in London
just now and were going to do them again at Jutta’s
house to-night. Jutta replied that if they were scan-.
dalous her dear Elsa could rest assured that they
would not be permitted at her house, and this caused
Elsa to snort again. Then Jutta got up to go.

“T merely called to inquire and to bring a few
flowers,” she said, leaving her roses on the table.
SALT OF THE EARTH 191

“Siegmund sends Brenda flowers every day,” said
Elsa. “He adores her and doesn’t care what he spends
on her, and he is acquainted with her tastes, which are
highly fastidious. Wired flowers cause her to shudder,
and in her present state might bring on a relapse.”

“It is most kind of you to bring them and I will
give them to Brenda at once,” said Mrs. Miiller hur-
riedly, for she was not behind the scenes and was
not used to onslaughts of this primitive and determined
description.

“When you see an adder, stamp on it,” counseled
Elsa directly the door had closed. “She won’t come
again in a hurry.”

“But why should you think she sees Lothar every
day? Surely his work does not bring them together?”

“Not his work, but his pleasure,” said Elsa gloomily.
“She is a notorious coquette and Lothar is a fool.”

Mrs. Miiller grew more and more uneasy about her
child’s marriage, but she said nothing to Brenda for
some time. She had been in Berlin five or six weeks,
and May had come before she tried to find out what
Elsa had meant. Brenda hardly ever spoke of her
present life at all. Her thoughts seemed to turn to
her old home and to the people she had known there;
and she took more interest in anything that Mrs. Mul-
ler could tell her about Treva than in the chronicles
brought by Lothar’s family of what had happened
to acquaintances in Berlin.

“Have you made many friends here?” her mother
asked one day.

“A few. I love Siegmund Abel and I get on with
Elsa now. There are others, too. When I am stronger
I will ask some of them to meet you.”

“A Frau Prassler called when you were ill. I did
not tell you at the time.”

“She is not a friend,” said Brenda. Her face
seemed to stiffen, and after a moment’s hesitation she

added:
192 SALT OF THE EARTH

“Lothar is in love with her.”

Mrs. Miiller had wished for her daughter’s confi-
dence, but now that it was given she felt immeasurably
distressed.

“Elsa says she is a notorious coquette,” she answered

_with embarrassment.

“Elsa has told you then. The whole family know
about it and disapprove.”

“She did not tell me much.”

“T can’t, either. It would be a record of small
slights and annoyances that mount up till they make
one unhappy. But I don’t see what one can do.”

“Have you spoken to Lothar about it?”

“He knows that I have eyes.”

“He might be made to feel that he is doing wrong.”

“He will not stop for that. His own people re-
proach him, but they do no good. Words won’t kill
an infatuation.”

“I suppose it is a mere flirtation,” said Mrs. Miller
after a reflective pause.

“T’ve no idea. It is an obsession at any rate.”

“These affairs die out,” said Mrs. Miller. “If the
woman is a coquette she will pass on to some one else.”

““What did you think of her?”

, “T thought she was odious. Artificial and conceited.
‘But one knows that some men are attracted by that
kind of woman. What is her husband like?”

“Stolid and coarse and big. He married her for
her money.”

“When you are strong enough you ought to have a
change,” said Mrs. Miller. “Perhaps if you ane
Lothar went away together for a time . . . Could he
get leave?”

“T would much rather come home with you,” said
Brenda.

Mrs. Miiller looked startled and showed it.

“You mean for a short time,” she said. “You would
come back.”
SALT OF THE EARTH 193

“I must speak to Lothar,” said Brenda, and when

he came in shortly before supper she took her oppor-
tunity.
_ It was now the middle of May, nearly two months
since Brenda had been taken ill. She still looked
frail, but her beauty had come back, and when Lothar
entered the room he saw his wife as he had seen her in
the early days of their marriage; and his eyes rested
on her as they used to do, with a proprietary satisfac-
tion that she noted and, thinking of Jutta, would have
been glad to avoid.

“How much longer is your mother staying?” he
said abruptly.

“She goes next week,” said Brenda.

“T shall be glad to have our house to ourselves
again.” ‘

Brenda put down her book and met her husband’s
eyes; but she could not know how far the picture she
made affected Lothar’s mood and gave the argument
a turn she had not foreseen and did not desire. The
weather had turned warm and she wore a thin white
embroidered gown that was as fresh as a daisy. Mrs.
Miller had brought in some lilies of the valley and
put them in a Venetian glass by her daughter’s side.
The setting sun shone on Brenda’s hair, burnishing
the golden-red threads in it and flooding the wall
behind her with light. Her convalescence had rested
her and she looked younger than her years.

“T should like to go back with my mother,” she
said.

“To London! Now! What for? I cannot go
with you at present.”

“Tt would be a change.”

“It will be a change to be by ourselves again, with
you restored to health. I want no other.”

“Tt is I who want it,”’ said Brenda.

“A wife’s place is with her husband. You will stay
here,” said Lothar.
1

194 SALT OF THE EARTH

“You never try to take my point of view, Lothar. J
want to get away for a time.”

“Away from what?”

“Everything! Everybody!”

“That is an extraordinary sentiment for a married
_ woman to express.”

“Tt follows from what has happened.”

“What do you mean?”

“T’ve been very unhappy.”

“You've been ill. There is no reason why you
should be unhappy. You expect too much. A sen-
sible woman shuts her eyes sometimes.”

“Certainly; and when her husband returns to her
because she looks prettier than ever she opens them
again.”

It was as the morality of the coarser kind of farce
at which you laugh as long as the circumstances amidst
which you hear it put forth are sufficiently unreal.
But Brenda shuddered a little and felt ominously
irresponsive.

“T must think things over,” she said.

Lothar stared at his wife. She had never com-
plained, never quarreled with him, never shown except
by her silence that she resented his behavior. What
then did she mean by this sudden assertion of herself?
As if after he had pointed out what she was to do
there could be any question of her doing something
different! Had her illness affected her wits? Who
could understand feminine vagaries or deal with them?
He only knew of one way, and took it instantly.

“There is nothing to think over,’ he roared.
“Nothing at all. You will not go to London. You will
stay here and look after your husband and your house. .
What do you suppose would become of me if you ran
about the world as you pleased? That is not our idea
of married life.” .

“You promised me when we married that I should
spend some weeks every year with my parents.”

,
SALT OF THE EARTH 195

“T don’t remember it.”

“T do, distinctly.”

“What one says before marriage is not what one
says after. In the ardor of courtship man will make
promises it would be inconvenient to keep later on.”

> “Then you don’t consider yourself bound by your
; word?”

| “Not toa woman. All men lie to women. Besides,
what proof have you that I ever promised you an
annual visit to England? It sounds unlikely.”

“All men do not lie to women,” said Brenda.

“There are lies and lies. Some are harmless and .
necessary. When I asked you to marry me, I would
have promised you the moon if you had shown the
least desire for it.”

“My mother thinks I ought to have a change,” said
Brenda, looking away from Lothar because his eyes
seemed ready to promise her the moon at this moment,
provided she gave up her wish to go to London.

“This is out of the question. I could not get
leave at present. We shall stay here together. You
do not need a change. I have not seen you look as
well and as pretty as you do to-day since we met in
Heidelberg a year ago.”
XVII

HEY were the only English people in the hotel,

and though they had been in St. Peter for a

fortnight they still made a little party to them-
selves. The husband and wife were called Miiller
and the young woman with them was called Erdmann.
Yet they were English. Every one in the hotel could
see it by their manners and clothes, and could hear it
in their voices and imperfect German. The unmarried
man with them was called Lovel, and both he and
the man called Miller had the insufferable English
air that makes supermen gobble with anger and dis-
like—the air of caring for nobody' and not minding
much if nobody cares for them. They encompassed
their womenfolk with little observances that super-
men consider beneath male dignity, and the women
were on terms of happy equality with them, accepting
their services and sharing in their discussions. They
had a table to themselves in the Speise-Saal, but it
was a table that could be watched by the rest of the |
room, and at first the relationships of the four new
guests afforded matter of speculation. Except at meals
they were hardly seen. Whenever it was fine they
went off for the whole day together, thus missing
the one o’clock meal, which was the biggest and most
satisfying. Their indifference to it would have pro-
claimed their nationality if nothing else had done so.
They took sandwiches with them, the landlord in-
formed inquirers. Sandwiches! To feed a man who
since his supper the night before had had nothing but
coffee and rolls!

196
SALT OF THE EARTH 197

“But how is it that you are called Miiller?” said
a determined woman to Jem when she caught him
unprotected one day.

“I am called Miller because my father is Miiller,”
said Jem.

“But Miller is a German name.”

“My father is German.”

“But you are not!”

“T’m English ... or Chinese. I was born in
Hongkong.”

“Strange! And your sister?”

“She is English, too.”

“But she is called Erdmann.”

“Because she married a man of that name.”

“He is not here.”

“He is in Berlin with his regiment.”

“An officer?”

“Ves.”

“You said a man! I thought perhaps...

“T will tell you our whole story since it interests
you,” said Jem. “I am English, my wife is English,
my sister is English, and my friend, Mr. Lovel, is Eng-
lish. There isn’t a German amongst us. We have
come here to see the Black Forest and we are enjoying
ourselves immensely. The only drawback to our
happiness is that something has gone wrong with the
post. We have had no English letters and papers
to-day.”

“Tt must be the fault of the English post,” said the
woman. “Ours is so perfectly organized that there
is never a hitch.” ;

Just then Jem caught sight of his party and was
able to escape with a polite remark about the weather.
But he told Violet that in future she must protect
him more carefully from females who wore Reform-
kleider and weighed more than he did.

“She is angry because we are not Germans,” he
said to Brenda.

”
198 SALT OF THE EARTH

“And the angrier they are the less we want to be,
said Brenda.

She had been in St. Peter a fortnight, the guest of
her brother, and she had been as happy as Peter Ibbet-
son was when in his prison cell he slept and dreamed.
Presently the dream would end and she would wake
again to the tormented life, the sordid squabbling
life that her marriage made a wretched reality. Jem.
had sent her a sudden invitation, and Lothar had
permitted her to accept it. The idea that sometime
during the summer a woman who has been ill must do
a “cure” at a watering-place is so inbred in German
life that evens tyrannical husbands like Lothar accept
it; and here was an opportunity for a cure without
its attendant expenses.

So Brenda set off by herself in a state of exhilara-
tion she tried in vain to control and call absurd. To
be with Jem and Violet all day for three long summer
weeks! to see Andrew Lovel again! to hear English
again! not to be bullied! not to be disliked! not to
hear the everlasting bray of the German trumpet! Be-
sides, the Black Forest was South Germany, as differ-
ent from Berlin as Treva from Manchester. Not that
Manchester resembled Berlin. As far as she knew,
both cities would have resented comparison. She
would have liked to go to Heidelberg, but dear grand-
_mamma and great-grandmamma had died this spring
within a few weeks of each other. The old-fashioned
house and the Garden of the Hesperides were in
strange hands. Brenda’s father had sent her a neck-
lace of seed pearls and some china as mementoes of
them. He had supported them for many years and
they left no property except their furniture and per-
sonal possessions.

“Very disappointing,” said Lothar when he heard
this. “I thought they were people of substance and
that you would inherit from them.”

Brenda expected to find her friends full of the Irish

”
SALT OF THE EARTH 199

trouble. In Berlin every one told her that England
was on the eve of civil war, that the army had mutinied
and that the labor world was ripe for a bloody revolu-
tion. The whole Empire was rotten, said August.
When she saw an English paper she felt anxious about
the unrest at home herself. But when she got to St.
Peter she saw no papers except the weekly edition of
“The Times” and she did not read that assiduously.
Jem and Andrew did not talk politics at all. They
talked maps and expeditions in the evening, and by
day they were on the road or in the forest. Andrew
had come home because Major Lovel needed him at
Treva and had taken a chance of selling his New
Zealand property at a huge profit. The nephew had
managed the transaction and the uncle was well
pleased with him. Violet told Brenda this, but added
that Andrew wanted to go back to New Zealand. At
the Rectory everything went on as usual and Mr. and
Mrs. Lovel were both well. In Avenue Road every- .
thing was as usual, too, and in August Mr. and Mrs.
Miller were going to Cromer. They had Jem’s chil-
dren with them at present and had invited the whole
family to Cromer later on. Affairs in Ireland cer-
tainly looked serious. Trouble seemed to be brewing
in Serbia, too, and Paris was in a ferment about the
Caillaux trial. It was a relief to get away from papers
jfor a while and Jem said he would not mind if he did
not see one during his holiday.

Brenda guessed before long that Jem and Violet
had come to Germany on purpose to see her and that
they had no illusions about her marriage. She guessed
it partly from their silences. They never spoke of
Lothar. But Andrew Lovel, who knew less than they.
did, was less discreet.

“How do you like living in Berlin?” he asked her
one day when they sat down in the forest to wait for.
the others.

“T don’t like it,” said Brenda. “I’m homesick.”
200 SALT OF THE EARTH

“Don’t you go home now and again?”

“T’ve not been once yet.”

“Are the people pleasant?”

“Some are. Some are odious.”

“Can’t you avoid them?”

“Not always.”

Brenda looked at Andrew Lovel with the same
thought in her mind that had given her pause before.
How could she explain August to him or the beautiful
Jutta or Little Mamma? They were types outside
his ken.

“T’d like to come home,” she said. “I want to see
my father and mother. I’d love to see Treva again.”

“T wish you’d come,” said Andrew.

“This is my holiday. I can’t expect another.”

She was wrestling with herself as she spoke. She
had been wrestling with herself ever since she saw
Andrew Lovel again, and yet she had not driven out
that which her conscience condemned, but seemed
unable to destroy. She had loved Andrew when he
was immature and young for his years, and now that
he had found himself she loved him more than ever,
though she was a married woman. Consider what
that means to a woman of Brenda’s character and up-
bringing. The joy was stolen and the distress was
greater than the joy. To be with him made her ex-
quisitely happy, and that in itself frightened her.
Every morning she resolved on a day of serene light-
hearted contentment and every night she knew that
she had not been serene but in extremes of bliss and
trouble. She had no doubts about the situation and
she was sure that Andrew had none. When love and
duty come to the grapple, love must give way. You
do not reason about it. You know it is so even if it
kills you. Brenda had seen and read the modern
drama in four tongues, but she supposed she was
compounded of different stuff from those interesting
heroes and heroines who are overcome by amorous
SALT OF THE EARTH 20F

passion as a child is overcome by a fit of naughtiness.
She did not even hold that Lothar’s unfaithfulness
could condone hers. His infatuation for the beautiful
Jutta was a humiliation of her wifehood; it pulled
down the poor scaffolding around their marriage and
left it a ruin for every one to see. But it did nothing
to exonerate her when she looked at Andrew and
wished they could go to New Zealand together or die
and find themselves together on a star. Her holiday
had become a time of mingled happiness and torture;
and in the same hour she would think of its end with
relief and despair.

Andrew had been told enough of Brenda’s marriage
to know that it was not a happy one, and if he had
been told nothing he would have guessed it. Her eyes
showed that she had suffered, and her manner had
changed, too.. To go from friendly surroundings to
bitterly hostile ones leaves its mark at all times, and
Brenda had gone alone, a stranger within gates that
had no welcome, an alien among people blown with
wrath and pride. Even when she thought of those
who had been friendly to her in Berlin it did not affect
her belief in the universal grudge against England,
inculcated for years and ready to burst into fury at
the word of command. She thought that Violet, Jem
and Andrew were typical of English blindness and
indifference. They were enjoying their holiday, they
delighted in the forest, they praised the food, they
would tramp to a village church feast in order to see
the peasants in costume. They paid lavishly for
everything, found those who served them civil and
assiduous and never dreamed what a volcano of hate
was smothering its fires under this thin crust of peace
and good will.

On the first of August Brenda went into the Speise-
Saal and took her place at the table her party always
occupied. It was pleasantly placed close to a window
which they usually kept open in spite of some looks
202 SALT OF THE EARTH

and innuendoes from an apoplectic-looking Herr
Worms, who sat beyond them with his wife and chil-
dren. The night before this person had behaved with
conspicuous rudeness, and Brenda, who was used to
August, did not marvel so much at his want of man-
ners as at the wave of sympathy with him that rippled
through the room among people who ought to have
known better. His behavior then had been outrage-
ous and only possible in a country that has no measure
of conduct except its own conceit. The day had been
wet and cold in this high region, so Andrew, noticing
that Brenda felt chilly, shut the window nearest to
her. To his amazement the apoplectic Herr Worms
pushed back his chair, got up, approached him and
let forth a torrent of abuse of which he did not un-
derstand a single word. But he understood the fel-
low’s bawling voice, his clenched, threatening fists,
and his face scarlet with rage.

‘‘What’s the matter?” he said to Jem.

“He says you've insulted him by shutting the win-
dow to-night, although you left it open this morning
after he had sneezed twice with cold.”

“Silly ass!’ said Andrew. “If he wanted it shut,
why couldn’t he say so?”

That closed the incident as far as Brenda and her
party were concerned. Herr Worms returned to his
place, grumbling and muttering, and the English people
ate their supper without further molestation. Next
day they decided that the sun might be shining in the
valley, and, taking their lunch with them, they struck
down hill, lost their way, enjoyed themselves im-
mensely and were out seven hours. When they got
back there were no letters or papers from England yet;
but Brenda heard from Lothar. He told her to return
to Berlin instantly, but sent no money and gave no
reason. She went down to supper without giving a
thought to the politics of the world,‘depressed by her
own future and occupied with her own troubles. She
SALT OF THE EARTH 203

sat down and looked through the open window at the
landscape. The room was filling rapidly, but she did
not turn her head till she heard some one at her own
table, and then she was surprised to see Herr Worms
and his family invading it. The next one, usually

occupied by them, was taken by strangers, but she.

saw others empty at the opposite end of the room.

“This table is not free,” she said. “My friends will

be here directly.”

She spoke in German and the man answered her, in
German, falling into invective without a moment’s
hesitation. The table was as free to him as to any one
else, he roared. He supposed the English flag was
not flying in German hotels yet, was it? Just the
English way to think that the earth belonged to them,
though they did nothing but cumber it. They had a
lesson to learn and Germany was going to teach it.
His wife would sit on that chair and his children would
sit on those. He also would take a chair with the
English lady’s leave. English! He spat upon the
English!

He actually did spit, so overcome was he by the
poison gas within him; while his wife, smugly pleased
with her man’s patriotism, took the chair he had as-
signed to her. The children sat down, too, and as the
table had been laid for four there was no vacant place
yet for their father. Brenda had turned rather white,
but had not risen yet. She did so when her own people
appeared and came close enough to hear what the
infuriated man was saying. He stood there, shaking
his fist now at one of them and now at the other.
- They were all English and his gorge rose at the sight

of them. That was the gist of what he was saying,

and one word used over and over again even Violet
could understand.

“Pig-dogs!” she translated. “He is calling us pig-
dogs! What a funny little man! Why has he taken
our table, Brenda?”

a
204. SALT OF THE EARTH

“T’m fed up with him,” said Jem, and turning to
Herr Worms, he said in his broken public-school Ger-
man: “Unser Tisch—our table. Verstehen Sie?”

The whole room was now looking on, for Jem’s
remonstrance seemed to put Herr Worms into a frenzy
compared with which his usual fits of bad temper
were calms. He said everything over again in a louder
voice and called upon his countrymen to agree with
him. Then he began to say other things.

“Tf he only had a sword now he’d run us through,”
said Violet. ‘Come away, Jem. He’s crazy!”

“You have not the least idea of the things the brute
is saying,” Brenda whispered to her sister-in-law.
“He’s insulting all the women of England now. Come
away before our men understand.”

For a moment the little group of English people
stood there, isolated and hesitating. They could not
recover their table by force and the waitress who
served it had discreetly disappeared. They were
startled and impressed by the demeanor of the other
people in the room, for they saw even more clearly
than Brenda had done last night that the bully had
the crowd on his side and knew it. There were many
people in the room who would not have behaved as he
did, but they did not interfere. At least no one did
until Jem said he would fetch the proprietor; and
then he found at his elbow an elderly man with whom
he had had some conversation a few days ago: a
German gentleman, sedate and kindly, who spoke
English well. He looked ominously grave.

“Have you heard the news?” he asked.

“ve not seen a paper for a week,” said Jem.

“Is Mme. Caillaux acquitted?” asked Violet.

“Ts there news from Ireland?” said Andrew.

The German looked from one to the other with
wonder and some compassion, as a grown man might
look at children asking about trifles on a day of
doom,
SALT OF THE EARTH 205

“Mme. Caillaux has been acquitted,” he said.

“There has been a riot in Ireland.”
' He waited a moment, not because what he said
roused any response beyond a quick breath of sur-
prise, but because the emotion with which he was
struggling mastered him. The spectacle of it so
affected the four people waiting for him to speak
that they received the news he had given in the way
he evidently felt it himself, as news of no importance
compared with that which was to come.

“Germany is in a state of war,” he said in a meas-
ured voice as soon as he could speak.

“That is why Lothar has sent for me,” cried Brenda.

“Has Germany declared war?” said Jem.

“Not yet. But we have been mobilizing for days.
We are ready on both frontiers. You should leave at-
once . . . before it is too late.”

“But we are not at war with any one,” said Violet.

“Not to-day. You may be to-morrow. We do not
know. We hope not.” Then he turned to Jem again.

“You have women with you,” he said. “You should
go home at once. Public feeling against England is
rising every hour.”
XVIII

HE train droned on through the long hours
of the night, weaving the same pattern mile by
mile on Brenda’s sleepless brain. The night

before she had not slept much, because she had thought
herself unhappy and dreaded the future. But now that
night of personal sorrow and vain wishes was blotted
out by the experiences of this one. Life had begun
anew in a world without the old checks and the old
values. Yesterday the compelling trouble of love had
moved Brenda’s heart and filled her thoughts. But
to-night love folded his wings and waited.

Opposite Brenda sat Andrew Lovel, and he had just
fallen asleep. Perhaps he, too, had not slept the night
before. He looked white and worn. When his eyes
closed Brenda’s eyes rested on his face with greater
freedom than when his glance met‘her own: and she
wanted to remember every line of it, for who knew
whether she would ever see him again after the jour-
ney ended? He had insisted on coming to Berlin with
her although she had insisted that she could travel
alone. Jem and Violet had gone back to Strasburg
and by this time should be safely over the frontier.
Violet had wished Brenda to go with them, but Jem
had upheld his sister when she said that she must see
her husband before he went to war. None of them
knew on the Saturday what England would do, for
they had seen no papers all through that fateful week
and had heard nothing ot aa the Germans at the

adi
SALT OF THE EARTH 207

hotel had told them. Austria had bombarded Belgrade
and Germany was ina state of war! What that meant
all over the country they did not understand till they
reached Freiburg on Saturday afternoon and saw the
dislocation of traffic at the station, the moving troops,
the wildly excited civilians and the breakdown of the
usual routine. Jem and Violet had tumbled into a
packed train, but their big trunks did not go with
them. No heavy baggage to Paris could pass, the
officials said, and refused to weigh it. People might
take the train or stay behind as they pleased. But
property belonging to French and English pig-dogs
flying in hot haste from Germany! Let it stay in the
Fatherland! He, the big brawny official, talking to
an underling, took the responsibility.

“They'll find chiefly nailed boots in mine,” said Jem.
“T wish I could have a kick at that beast with one of
them.”

But he did not get his kick, and he and Violet never
saw their trunks again. They said good-bye to Andrew
and Brenda in a scene of great confusion, and were too
much harried and hustled for hours to come to think
of anything but the exigencies of the moment and the
intense excitement reigning everywhere. As for An-
drew and Brenda, they could not even find seats at

first in the train going to Berlin. They stood in a.

corridor until a good many people got out at a junc-
tion, and then they found room in a first-class com-
partment in which two German officers and two civil-
ians were traveling. By this time they were not
surprised to be received with glances of declared hos-
tility. . By this time they had been made to understand
that they were pig-dogs in a world of supermen and
must suffer for it. For what is the use of being a
superman if you can’t show the pig-dog that you hate
him? When the game is safe it is satisfying to the
supersoul and when it is unsafe you kotow instead.

“T have lived in England for years,” said the stout
208 SALT OF THE EARTH

gommercial-looking superman sitting next to Brenda.
“I know the English as I know myself. They will
not fight. They always desert their friends. Besides,
they are rotten.”

He looked at his exceedingly stout wife, he looked
_at Brenda, he looked at Andrew Lovel, who did not
‘understand a word of German, but was uncomfortably
‘squeezed by the stout lady’s bulging hold-all. It was

an outsize hold-all of drab oatmeal cloth with a motto
embroidered on it in bright blue. “Go East, go West, .
at Home’s the Best,” the motto said, but Andrew could
not understand that, and all he knew about the hold-all
was that the umbrellas in it were butting into his ribs.
So without speaking he shifted it a little and instantly
turned the superman and his spouse into raving luna-
tics. They began to storm just as Herr Worms in
the, hotel had stormed, and they tried to butt into
Andrew’s ribs again with their umbrellas. The two
officers looked on superciliously and did not inter-
fere.

“This is my seat,” said Andrew, “I have paid for

it and I want it.”

“You call yourself a shentleman!’”’ replied the

suiperwoman.

“T shall call the guard unless you remove your

umbrellas,” said Andrew, addressing the superman.

Like a god from a machine the guard appeared at

the door just then, demanding tickets; and he not only
appeared like a god, but he acted like one, ending com-
bat by decisive action. His compatriots complained
loudly of the Englishman’s insolent and provocative
behavior. They had been sitting as still as mice, they
said, with all their hand luggage close to them, when
the Englishman had seized it and said it was in his
way. The guard knew how English travelers invari-
ably behaved and how unpleasant it was for refined
people to travel with them. Andrew said nothing.
Brenda waited. The guard pointed to the hold-all
SALT OF THE EARTH 209

still partly across Andrew’s seat, but not as much
so as when he had first moved it.

“Away with that!” he commanded in a voice of
harsh command: and then Brenda spoke.

“The gentleman wants it away,” she said. “Tt does

not belong to him.”

Andrew could only follow the pantomime of his
companions, but he watched their faces fall, and after
a vibrating moment of embarrassment he heard the
guard shout something at them he judged to be un-
flattering, after which he saw him snatch up the
hold-all and thrust it into the rack above. Then,
having seen justice done, the man walked away, leaving
his country-people more furious than ever with the
triumphant pig-dogs, who, to avoid argument, shut
their eyes and tried to sleep.

But sleep did not come easily to any one in the train
that night, for it stopped often and at every station
there were troops and a crowd. There was singing,
laughter, shouting, hoarse cries of command, hurry,
scuffle and the wail of children in a world that could
not stop for children’s needs. The movement in the
train never ceased, the corridors were packed, officers
swaggered through the press of people to the buffet
and back again. The air grew fetid in spite of an
open window here and there, and Brenda, weary and

half suffocated, could neither sleep nor stay awake. .

She fell into a semi-comatose state in which she heard
voices and scraps of dialogue and in which passing
figures painted themselves on her fancy like figures in
a nightmare, some of no account, some threatening and
hateful. There was one officer who looked in at her
compartment as if he wanted to find a seat there and
she, opening her eyes heavily, saw him: saw his tall
figure, his sensual thick-lipped face and his arrogant
pale-blue eyes. It was a type she knew as a Londoner
knows his city clerk, but she saw it to-night keyed to
its topmost note, exultant and aggressive. The Day
210 SALT OF THE EARTH

had arrived and he was the hero of it—the hero and
the victor. No thought of check came to temper the
dominant mood. “In five weeks we shall be in Paris,”
she heard one say as she half dozed again.

“And what after?” asked another voice, harsh and
jubilant.

“We shall see on Tuesday night. I have my ideas.”

“You think the English will come in? How can
they? They have no army, and if they tried to make
one they would have a revolution. Besides, who ever
heard of an untrained army facing one like ours? It
would be wiped out at once.”

“Then let us hope they will be fools enough to try.
Sooner or later! What does it matter?”

“I wish I knew German,” said Andrew next time
there was a stop, and Brenda opened her eyes. “All
the while those chaps were arguing I heard two words
I knew and one I didn’t know. I can understand
when they say Englanders or Schweinhund, but what
is faul? Is it foul?”

“Rotten . . . decadent,” said Brenda, speaking in
a low whisper, for she saw that the people with the
hold-all had got out and that four gray uniforms
were now sharing the compartment with them.

“They think we are rotten, do they?”

“They never think. They know.”

“T’d like to ask them why. I don’t feel rotten,”
said Andrew.

Brenda looked at him dissuasively.

“Wait till you get to Berlin,” she said. “T’ll intro-
duce August to you. He can’t run a sword through
you even if you laugh at him: and I know you
would.”

That was the last flicker of laughter possible in this
new evil world thought Brenda hours later when,
wide-eyed and sleepless, she watched for the dawn.
She had laughed a little as she spoke of August, and
Andrew had responded with the twinkle in his eyes
SALT OF THE EARTH 211

that was so humorous and understanding. He looked
tired and anxious to-night, he clattered no sword, he
was stiffened by no uniform, his speech was the speech
of his kind, low-toned and never emphatic. Yet
Brenda, judging him in the light of the present hour,
with brooding and high hope, judged that he was not
.totten. Body and soul he was sound and he stood for
his country, for her country. But she had sold her
birthright for a mess of pottage and the flavor of it
was bitter in her mouth.

A clash of voices, a scuffle, a woman’s shriek and
then a shot so close that every one in the compartment
rose in alarm. A scream with the shot, a long sighing
groan and then the thud-of a body falling to the
ground. Then Babel and throughout the train panic.
Every one talking, women in hysterics, officials shout-
ing hoarse directions. Brenda, who had risen, sat
down because her strength seemed to turn to water.
She was terrified, for through all the noise and con-
fusion she heard one word spit out over and over
again with every variation of anger and malevolence.
England! Englander! Even Andrew understood.

“You stay here,” said Andrew. “I'll find out what
has happened.”

Brenda was glad to sit still. She felt sick and cold,
for the first hubbub had subsided and she could hear
the labored breath of a man in agony. Were they
doing nothing to relieve him? Was no one there to
help? With a sudden impulse she rose to her feet
and went into the corridor. The officers from her
compartment crowded it, but they drew back a little
from the group they had been watching when she
appeared.

A middle-aged man lay huddled on the floor in a
pool of blood. Andrew and a man who looked like a
doctor bent over him; but as Brenda approached, the
doctor, speaking to one of the railway officials, said
there was nothing to be done. The corridor as far as
212 SALT OF THE EARTH

Brenda could see was packed with people, and those
who could not find room there were looking out of
the carriages.

“What happened?” said Brenda.

“He has been shot,” said Andrew. “He is English.
I thought he might want to send some message, but
I was too late.” .

Brenda heard what he said, but she also heard a
sound that appalled her, a low running growl of
hate and rage like the growl of a wild beast about to
spring.

“Who shot him?” she whispered.

“One of the officers in the train.”

“But it is murder!’ cried Brenda, no longer whis-
pering: and, lifting her eyes, she met the impudent
stare of the thick-lipped officer she had seen when she
was half awake an hour ago. He took a step forward
and his face reddened with anger at Brenda’s cry. She
saw the revolver in his hand and then her attention
was drawn to the doctor, who had been examining the
dying Englishman.

“You can do nothing,” he said. “In another moment
‘he will be dead. Go back to your places and be care-
ful what you say. People are excited.”

Brenda rose, signed to Andrew Lovel to follow her,
and felt relieved when they were in their seats again.
She had not lived in Berlin for a year without hearing
stories of quarrels leading to duels and she knew that
the man with her was in greater danger than she was
_herself. Any false step on her part might land
Andrew in trouble, and she did not want to see him
lying in a pool of blood, sobbing out his life unheeded
and unavenged.

“They’ve not even arrested the brute,” said Andrew.
“It was that fat-faced one with the revolver.”

“T know,” said Brenda and began to cry.

“He was unconscious at once,” said Andrew, speak-
ing of the Englishman. “He was not in pain.”
SALT OF THE EARTH 213

“He was murdered!” cried Brenda. “What had
he done? and no one cares. What has come to the
world?”

Before Andrew could speak the compartment filled
again, and one of the people traveling in it now was
the officer with the revolver. She turned her face
from every one, trying to hide her distress, and when
the train stopped, listened with shuddering attention
to the removal of the murdered man and the colloquy
carried on by the guard, various witnesses and the
station-master. She heard the word police, but no
police came; she heard the man with the revolver
give his name and address, but when the train moved
on he was still sitting unconcernedly in his place. No
one had dared to detain him, and by what he said to
the other officers in the carriage she understood that
he was without shame and without fear.

“He would not move to let me pass. He stood in
the way, and when I pushed him he swore at me. Is
one to stand that from one of these English pigs?
Must one make oneself respected or not?”

“We have our orders,” said another. “We know
what All-Highest thinks about it.” :

“Nur feste drauf,” said some one else, quoting the
Crown Prince’s telegram to the commanding officer at
Zaben whose lieutenant had thrust his sword through
a crippled cobbler.

“The Day has come at last,” said the man with the
revolver.

“But it is not certain yet that they .. .”

“We are certain. Sooner or later we shall show
them.”

“Tt will be an awakening.”

“One can be almost sorry for them.”

“Sorry!”

“They are so fast asleep and they will be so wide
awake.”

“When the Zeppelins are over London. That will
214 SALT OF THE EARTH

be a trip to make. I have a cousin in command of
one. He has told me things... like Sodom and
Gomorrah the city will be wiped out .. .”

“By our cleansing fires.”

“The air will reek with burning flesh . . .”

“City by city we shall accomplish it. The country
places we shall starve.”

“How will you manage that?” i

“With our submarines. We shall blockade their
coasts.”

“But they have ships.”

“They will not have ships. What can ships do
against our submarines? Besides their sailors are
always drunk. You know how it was on the Titanic
. . . the captain, the officers, the crew, the passengers,
all drunk and going to their doom.” :

“And such people think they can stand up to
“When we have done with them there will not be a
people.”

“On their own heads be it. They have grudged us
our prosperity!”

“The Day!”

Brenda opened her eyes and sat up. In this car-
riage, almost brushing her skirt, sat a murderer: and
other men talked with him, condoning and approving.
What temper possessed a people who could see such.
deeds unmoved and gloat over worse to come! What
dishonor would stain them? What crimes pollute
their progress? What cruelties their conquest. For
they sat there as conquerors, never doubting their
forecasts or dreaming of a hitch in their plans. They
talked of Paris in September as a tourist does who has
taken his ticket. They talked of St. Petersburg too
and of Constantinople. By the time morning came
they were established at Bombay, had reckoned with
the Japanese and were making a new German world of
North and South America. Africa had been easily

us
SALT OF THE EARTH 215

swept into the Hohenzollern maw with the help of the
Boers. Meanwhile Andrew slept; the train droned

on; and in the corridor just outside there was still
the pool of blood.
XIX

“WNEE-FO-FUM! I smell the blood of an Eng-+
lishman.” That is what it had come to in
Germany, thought Brenda, as she looked askance

at the man who had committed the murder and in

fancy saw her Englishman spitted on his unsheathed
sword. These things happened. She had only to
walk into the corridor to see the stains of blood; and
so near her that she could watch his face and hear his
voice sat the ogre, boastful and unashamed. His
fellows were in sympathy with him and were still talk-
ing of his prowess in slaying one who had impudently
put his hand on the sacred uniform. They had been
patient long enough. Everywhere they had met with
rebuffs at the hands of these pig-dogs! Agadir!

Brenda pretended to sleep again. She had seen August

foam at the mouth about Agadir and could have reeled

off all his arguments proving the innocence of the

German hemmed in by unscrupulous and designing

foes. How weary she was of this fire-eating world:

and now it was on the war-path. She knew its fanatic
hate, she feared its prepared and secret strength, she
shuddered at the days to come. Meanwhile she kept
her eyes shut because she heard Andrew stir as if he
was awake again; and she did not want him to speak
to her in English. She believed that the mere sound of
their tongue might be treated as a provocation by the
armed bullies in the carriage with them. If she had
chosen to enter into conversation with them and tell.
them her husbarid was a German officer their manner
would have changed she oe They would have
21
SALT OF THE EARTH 217

turned civil, possibly gallant, called her gnadige Frau
and offered her their services. But she would not
have done it except in extremity and then she would
have hated such a way of escape. She was English.
She was a pig-dog and she did not want their help or
their gallantry: the help of blood-stained hands.

“IT want to be in England,” she said, when at last
the journey came to an end and she was in a taxi with
Andrew. “If we go to war I want to be in my own
country ... not here.”

“Germany will be no place for an Englishwoman
if we go to war,” said Andrew. “I’ve seen enough to
know that., They’ve got their knife into us sure
enough. I expect your husband will want you to
leave as soon as you can. He must know the state
of feeling here.”

Brenda did not feel sure of what lay before her.
The life she had left behind when she started on her
holiday, a husband who was uxorious one day and in-
different the next, who exercised his rights but neg-
lected his duties, a life of friction and yet of loneliness
closed in upon her as the taxi sped through the long
Kurfiirstendamm to the house in which she lived, the
vulgar florid house with its red-brick guardian angels,
gilded balconies and castellated turrets.

She wondered in what mood she would find Lothar
and whether he would behave civilly to Andrew Lovel.
She had mentioned his presence at St. Peter in her
letters, she had telegraphed from Freiburg to say when
they would arrive, and she had asked to have the spare
room got ready in case he wished to stay the night and
go on next day. It had not occurred to her that any
change in her ordinary life would be considered neces-

)sary because her husband had received a call to arms,
and she expected her own desiré to go to England to
be treated as one of those female whims no sensible
German can consider. So when the door of the flat
opened she was amazed to see every article of furniture
218 SALT OF THE EARTH

that was in view shrouded in dust-sheets, while Little
Mamma and Mina came out of the kitchen to receive
her. They both looked sour, solemn and depressed.
They kissed her with funereal sighs, stared inhospita-
bly at Andrew, and when Brenda presented him made
little bobs of acknowledgment but did not offer to
shake hands.

“Where is Lothar?” said Brenda.

“He is in the dining-room with August. To-
morrow the dear boy goes to face death for the
Fatherland.”

“But why are you wrapping everything up?” said
Brenda, who from where she stood could see into the
spare room and saw that far from being ready it was
also tucked up as if for a long period of disuse. “If
Mr. Lovel stays here to-night we shall want the spare
room.”

“T am carrying out my son’s wishes,” said Little
Mamma stiffly. ‘He will doubtless explain them to
you himself. He will also inform you that it is not
his intention to entertain the enemies of his country
in war-time.”

“But has England declared war?”

“Not yet. Lothar is of the opinion that she will. She
can hardly keep out of it since she has engineered it.”

“Wauat?” cried Brenda, not trusting her ears,

“August says that he blames England for every
thing,” said Mina; and she glanced at Andrew Lovel,
wondering perhaps why, in spite of their tactful re-
marks, his face remained a blank.

“Mr. - Lovel doesn’t understand German,” said
Brenda. “You'll have to speak English if you wish
him to know what you say.’

As she spoke she walked into the dining-room, where
she found Lothar and August drinking beer. They
got up to receive her and stared woodenly at Andrew
Lovel, who was beginning to notice the unfriendliness
of his reception and to take it as an Englishman does
SALT OF THE EARTH 219

take bad manners, with chilly dignity. Brenda knew
he must be puzzled and astonished by the surroundings.
to which she had grown accustomed, by the two gro-
tesquely dressed women, by the ineffable August, who.
looked downright dirty this morning, and by the im-
polite swagger with which Lothar sprawled in his
chair and almost turned his back on his wife and her
guest.

“Mr. Lovel, at great inconvenience to himself,
traveled with me here,” she said indignantly. “He
would be safely over the frontier if he had gone with
my brother and his wife.”

“Pray why should you have feared to travel alone?”
cackled August. “Who would have harmed you?
You seem to forget that you are in a highly civilized
country and not in the wilds.”

“TI am very glad I was not alone,” said Brenda. “It
was a horrible journey. An Englishman was murdered.
in our train, close to our carriage.”

“Who murdered him?” asked Lothar.

“An officer who wore your uniform. I didn’t hear
his name.”

. “Did you hear in what way he had given offense?’”
hectored August.

“He was unarmed,” said Brenda. “The man who
did it was not even arrested. He traveled opposite
me and other officers shook hands with him . .

“Then doubtless they know that he had defended
his honor and was in the right,” said Lothar.

“It was a cowardly and brutal murder,” said Brenda
in a low, tense voice. Her eyes saw no one in the
room as she spoke but were fixed in horror on that
inward picture haunting her persistently: the picture
of her countryman broken and huddled on the ground
in his last agony. Her husband’s start of angry denial
and August’s reddening face recalled her to the present
moment and she spoke again in a lighter tone.

“We are both extremely tired and very hungry,”
220 SALT OF THE EARTH

she said. “T will order coffee and then I should like
to speak to you, Lothar. I do not know why you are
shutting up the house unless you think, as I do, that I
had better be in England while you are away. In that
case I should like to travel with Mr. Lovel and not
alone. I suppose there will be crowds and difficulties
everywhere.”

“In England! With our enemies! Just so! Just
what I expected,” screamed August. “The proper
place for the wife of a German officer.”

“Aber Brenda!” mewed Mina. “Is not a wife one
with her husband?”

“Has it occurred to you that my son is about to
offer up his life for his country?” said Little Mamma.
“Have you reflected that he may lose his limbs or
his life; probably his life? Our army is not one of
paid mercenaries like yours. When we go to war the
blood of the nation is spilled. Our brothers and sons
fall in a holy cause.”

Lothar’s hand was drumming on the-table, his face
was gloomy and thunderous and his eyes had an un-
pleasant light in them as he glanced at his wife.

“You will not go to England,” he said. “Your place
is here. I shall shut up the flat and you will live with
my parents while I am away. If I am killed you can
do as you please, but while I am away you will obey
my orders.”

So far every one had spoken German, and Andrew
had not been able to follow what they were saying.
But he could see that he was not being made welcome,
that the whole flat was topsy-turvy, that Brenda was
embarrassed and unhappy, and that her husband and
his family seemed to be excited and annoyed. He had
never seen any one quite like August before, and he
had never heard any one groan and sigh as the two
women did at intervals. They all talked with their
hands and nodded their heads and lifted their voices
more than his own country-people did, but he had seen
SALT OF THE EARTH 221

that kind of pantomime at St. Peter and been amused
by it. Not that he was at all inclined to be super-
cilious about other people’s ways because they varied
from his own. Such varieties are partly what enlarge
the mind in foreign travel, and if August had encoun-
tered live English people, instead of mugging them up
in histories written with a bias, he might have been
less ridiculous and disagreeable. As it was he cast -
venomous glances at Andrew, who even after a night’s
journey looked well dressed and well groomed: and
in his mean muddled soul hated him because he him-
self wanted a bath and a razor. Andrew had some
inkling of what was going on and would have fled long
since if he had not felt bound to wait on Brenda’s
wishes. The entrance of a maid-servant in answer to
‘her summons created a diversion, and when she had
ordered coffee she spoke to Lothar in English.

“Will you look after Mr. Lovel?” she said to Lothar.
“T want to take off my hat. When we have had coffee
we can talk over things.”

“There is nothing to talk over,” said Lothar, speak-
ing English, too. “I strongly advise Mr. Lovel to
leave Berlin by the next train. If, as we expect, Eng-
land comes in, he may not get away at all. We shall
not allow any one of a military age to leave the
country.”

“But, Lothar, Mr. Lovel does not know Berlin and
does not speak German. You must help him to get
away.”

“He need only drive to Cook’s office,” said Lothar
frigidly.

Andrew jumped up and held out his hand to Brenda.

“Good-bye,” he said, “that’s good advice about Cook.
T’'ll get the name of a hotel from them and stay there
to-night . . . in case you decide to go to England,
you know.”

“My wife will not go to England,” said Lothar.
“She will stay here.”
222 SALT OF THE EARTH

“But I want to see you again .. .” said Brenda.
“Can you come back when you have arranged about
your journey ?”
“This is my house,” screamed Lothar, hammering
so loudly on the table with his fists that the beer jug
and glasses danced and slid on the metal tray. “I
wear the Kaiser’s uniform. I will receive no English-
man as a friend.”
“It is simply impudent of Brenda to expect it!”
said August.
“Good-bye, Andrew,” said Brenda, her eyes fearless
and indignant. “Thank you for seeing me safe here.
We are not always quite as excited as we are to-day.
You must make excuses for us. Tell them at home
that I’m all right.”
“T shall send you a message somehow,” he said in a
low voice, “in case you change your mind and come.
I have this address written down.”
_ So Andrew went, after holding her hand an instant
in his own. He went without looking at any one else in
the room or speaking to them; but he was accompanied
to the door by a hiss from August, and though he
thought the professor a worm he recognized that his
boiling hate was symptomatic of public feeling and that
» the sooner an Englishman crossed the frontier the better.
‘ “Fre has not a friend in Berlin,” said Brenda. “I
wish he had not insisted on bringing me back. What
must he think of our manners?”

“In future it is our manners that will impose them-
selves on the world,” said August. ‘We shall be
masters of Europe in six weeks, and every one will
have to bow to our humanity and greatness.”

“When you boast and brag a little less I shall be-
lieve in your greatness a little more,” said Brenda, and
this was the first time she had spoken her mind to
August. He looked so absurdly taken by surprise
that she laughed . . . laughed at the learned manly
August ... and went out of the room.
SALT OF THE EARTH 223

“This is terrible,” said Little Mamma, “the woman
has no idea of what is becoming to one in her position.
My beloved boy, what a mistake you made when you
married her. Nevertheless, my offer holds good.
While our warrior is absent his old father and mother
will console his young wife.”

This sentiment was so beautiful and in the course of
two agitated days had become so inextricably mixed
with Little Mamma’s ideas that she repeated it with-
out reflection and was hurt when Lothar showed
impatience, said nothing and went out of the room.

“Poor boy! He is upset,” she sighed. “If only
he would take a Brausepulver.”

“After all he may return to us,” said Mina. “They
think so well of him at headquarters that they may
find him something safe to do.”

“You do your brother an injustice, wife,” said
August. “I am sure that he wishes for nothing better
than to die for his country.”

“Men have such noble sentiments,” mewed Mina;
“I’m deeply attached to my country, but I don’t in
the least wish to die for it. I prefer to live and see
the children grow up.”

“War is terrible!” admitted August, “but the growth
of our Empire makes it a condition of existence. We
must be brave and remember that our cause is a holy
one. We have God with us.”

Meanwhile Lothar had gone into Brenda’s room and
sat down there. She was seated, too, in front of her
toilet-table and was taking what she needed from her
dressing-case. She was so tired and so faint with hun-
ger that her thoughts were dulled and she did not feel
ready for a conflict with her husband. Yet she sup-
posed there must be one if she said anything more
about going to England.

“How pale you look,” he began. “Are you ill
again?”

“I’m very tired . . . and hungry.”
224, SALT OF THE EARTH

He rang the bell, and when the maid answered it
she brought in a tray with coffee and fresh rolls.

“When do you go, Lothar?” said Brenda directly
they were by themselves again.

“On Tuesday evening at eight.”

“Where do you go?”

“That I am not permitted to tell you.”

“Tt has come like thunder. We had seen no papers
for a week.”

“We are ready.”

Brenda buttered a roll and ate some of it with diffi-
culty. She found it was easier to drink than to eat
and that the hot coffee revived her. ,

“Will England fight?” she went on.

“Tt looks like it. They see a chance of stabbing us
in the back and mean to take it.”

“But you must have known they would stand by
France.”

“You talk like a fool. England stands by nothing
but her money-bags. She never has and never will.”

It was not exactly the moment for a humorous
memory, and yet Brenda’s thoughts played her a trick
and brought to mind the Socialist in a “Punch” dia-
logue who spoke with “all ’istry vivid to his recollec-
tion.” She wanted all ‘istry vivid to her recollection
in order to confute Lothar, and yet she knew that a
whole library of histories would not help her.

“T shall be very unhappy here by myself if England
and Germany are at war . . .” she began.

“You will not be by yourself. You are too young
to live alone. Dass schickt sich nicht. I have made
the best arrangements possible for you and I will tol-
erate no discussions about it. If you were a German
woman with a high sense of duty, you would seize the
chance of serving and comforting my parents. It is
not amusing for them to see their only son go forth to
the battle-field.”

“The trouble is that I am not a German woman,”
SALT OF THE EARTH 228

said Brenda. “Your parents do not like me, and I
am most unwilling to live with them. The war may
last a long time.”

“At most three months. We shall be in Paris on
Sedan Day. From Paris it is not far to Calais.”

“But it is a long way from Calais to Dover .. .
for a hostile army,” said Brenda impulsively.

“London will be in greater danger than Paris,”
said Lothar, scowling at her remark but not answering
it. “We do not expect to destroy Paris; but we shall
reduce London to ashes. You should advise your
parents to escape at once.”

“T should like to go to them,” said Brenda.

“The wife of a German officer remains in Germany.
That is my last word.”

“Then I would rather live on here by myself.”

“That is out of question. I will not allow it.”

“I am sure that I shall feel in the way in the
Joachimstrasse.”

“Who was that man you brought with you from
St. Peter?”

“T told you. Violet’s brother, Andrew Lovel.”

“He is in love with you. Any one can see it.”

“He has been in New Zealand for two years. He
may go back there.”

“You are in love with him. I see that, too. You!
want to go back to England in order to be with him‘
while I am shedding-my blood for my country. That
is your English morality. I know it well.”

Brenda’s color rose, but she did not deny what her
husband said. It was true, and yet his coarse applica-
tion of the truth was as false as possible. She loved
Andrew with her whole heart, but he had gone and
she had come back to the squalid inferno of her mar-
riage because the Law was stronger than Love. Her
subtleties of mind never took the easy path that follows
desire rather than duty. Perhaps it was a mistaken
idea of right that chained her to a union from which
226 SALT OF THE EARTH

love had fled, but to repudiate it would involve issues
too tangled and tremendous for present contemplation.
Perhaps some day she would tell Lothar that since
they no longer loved each other they should separate,
but she could not do so now. The future had become
hidden from every one enmeshed in this vast horror
vof war, still hovering over the world but about to
descend on it, spreading ruin and misery. Brenda
had only been a child at the time of the Boer War
and did not remember much about it. But she had
read descriptions of the battlefields in the Balkans a
year ago.

“T will do whatever you wish, Lothar,” she said,
not without effort; but the separation impending and
the stern call he had to obey seemed to harden his
heart rather than soften it, and to rouse his easily
roused temper.

“Of course you will do as I wish,” he said brutally ;
“you can’t help it. You’ve no money, I suppose, and
I shall give you none. At any rate this is my ultima-
tum. You will stay with my parents and behave
yourself or you will never enter my house again.
We are not in a patient mood to-day, I may tell you.
Weare not inclined to stand any nonsense from those
English people who are living amongst us. Those who
jare wise will keep quiet and dance to our tune. You
‘have to learn what it means when Germany goes
to war.”
XX

RENDA would have been glad to make friends
with Lothar and part from him in peace; but
she saw that he did not want peace or friend-

ship. His fury against England asked for a victim
and she was handy. He and all his family re-
garded her desire to leave Germany when her German
husband was going to war as a crime luckily prevent-
able. They did not reflect that Germany had not
done much to win her affections. They watched her
closely, as if they thought she might run away, and
they laid enormous stress upon the manifold duties
those who stayed at home could perform for their
country.

When they went to the station on Tuesday to see
Lothar off, there were such crowds everywhere and
such intense excitement that Brenda thought she could
have escaped easily if she had known where to go.
But she only had ten shillings in her pocket, and no
one, except possibly Siegmund Abel, would have given
or lent her money. Besides, she shrank from traveling
alone in a time of such disturbance, and she believed
that Andrew Lovel must have left Berlin before now.
She went home with the Erdmanns, was installed
in their handsomely-furnished spare room, and told
next morning when she appeared at breakfast that
England had declared war on Germany. She was
told other things, too, that interested her less, some
being ancient history and some prophetic. Herr

227
228 SALT OF THE EARTH

Erdmann’s fulminations were mainly directed against
English policy in the past, and were, as Brenda knew,
grossly inaccurate. He was.in a lachrymose mood
this morning, and went back to 1704 when, he said,
poor Germany was overrun with English soldiers.

When Brenda suggested that perhaps English sol-
diers in 1704 were helping poor Germany to fight her °
battles, he got as red as a turkey-cock, and said that
every one of any intelligence knew that the English
were not taught history or, in fact, anything else in
their schools. When that discussion ended, because
Brenda retired from it, August arrived in a state of
foaming excitement. There had been a riot, he said,
‘in front of the British Embassy the night before, be-
cause the Embassy people had attacked the peaceable
crowd in front of it. It was not safe this morning
for any one who looked English to go out of doors.

“But how did the Embassy people attack. =
crowd?” asked Brenda.

“They threw stones at it—huge stones, that they
must have collected for weeks before. Sir Goschen
was there directing them.”

“How can you believe such stuff?” said Brenda,
and drew wicked lightnings from August’s beady
brown eyes.

“Tf it had not been for our magnificent police, the .
whole place would have been wrecked,” he cried. “All *
the windows were broken.”

“By the crowd?”

“By the justly incensed crowd.”

“They must have brought stones and sticks with
them then. There are none lying about in the street.”

“Not at all. They returned those that were thrown
at them. , That can be proved.”

“T hope I shall be able to get English papers,” said
Brenda.

“What for? They all lie.”

“I should like, for one thing, to see whether the
SALT OF THE EARTH 229

German Ambassador in London attacks an English
crowd and gets his windows broken.”

“A German Ambassador would have too much
Kultur to do such a thing,” said August.

“TI suppose I shall be safe out of doors,” said Brenda
meditatively. “The crowd will hardly molest a
woman.”

“We are the most chivalrous and humane nation
in the world,” said August. “But we are the objects
of a base conspiracy. Our invincible army will make
short work of the foe. Nevertheless, we are roused,
and if you take my advice you will keep indoors until
we are in Paris.”

“When do you expect to be in Paris?” asked
Brenda, who remembered what Lothar had said, but
thought it would be amusing to hear August’s forecast,
too.

“We do not expect. We do not boast. We know. .
We shall be in Paris on Sedan Day and in London
three weeks later.”

“Poor London!” said Brenda, and as she looked
at the professor’s mean puffy face she thought of
London as you can think of anything big and com-
plicated in a moment, with swift unconnected glimpses
here and there, some moving, some still, some atmos-
pheric, but all London, ugly, beautiful, laughed at a
little, loved.

“How will you get there?” she said.

“In our Zeppelins.”

“But you can’t use your airships to murder non-
combatants. No civilized power would do such a
thing.”

“Why not? If the women and children are mur-
dered in sufficient numbers, the men will sue for peace.
We shall not make war with rose-water. We shall
stagger humanity. And we shall bring perfidious
Albion to her knees.”

Brenda, who had not seen an English paper for
230 SALT OF THE EARTH

more than a week, did not even know that the Navy
was mobilized. All she knew of England led her to
think that probably the English were not ready. They
did not want war and the politicians in power wanted
peace at almost any price. Their attention was fixed
on Ireland and Labor. The German menace was a
chimera invented by the Yellow Press and would never
materialize. Brenda had often heard her father’s
friends, who were mostly old-fashioned Liberals, talk
in this way and try to persuade the Unionist Jem
that Germany was a land of scholars and dreamers,
greatly misunderstood. With powerful foes to east
and west it had to keep up an army, while as for its
navy, its young, innocent small navy . . . was it not
rather petty and suspicious of Great Britain to grudge
a cousinly neighbor a few ships? They were wanted
to protect German merchantmen.

“T must get hold of some English papers,” she said.
“IT may find some have come for me. Anyhow, if the
flat is to be shut up while Lothar is away, I must go
there and see to things.”

“T thought that my wife. and Mina had seen to
everything,” said Herr Erdmann, looking offended.
But Brenda, after a year in Germany, had become
hardened to the family habit of looking offended, and
sometimes went her own way in spite of it. She did
this morning. She asked Herr Erdmann what money
she could get at, found that Lothar had made no
provision for her and started for her home with the
ten shillings left from her holiday expenses. There
was no money to be had anywhere, Herr Erdmann
told her, in consequence of the crisis, but matters of
that kind would soon be organized. Meanwhile no
man knew whether he was going to be ruined or en-
riched by the war, but for his part he expected to
rub along. His interests were in leather, and leather
would be wanted in unusual quantities,

Brenda was not molested as she went in a tram car
SALT OF THE EARTH 231

to her end of the long Kurfiirstendamm. People
talked of nothing but the war, and when they noticed
that she was English expressed their opinion of Eng-
land with the urbanity to which she had become
accustomed. The term pig-dog left her cold when she
heard it on every tongue, and she thought that when
she got to the flat she would look it out in her big
dictionary because she did not really know what a
pig-dog was. She guessed at a dog that herds and
controls pigs as a sheep dog herds and controls sheep;
and she hoped that if she was right the epithet as
applied to the English would prove prophetic and
descriptive. She supposed, however, that England’s
share in the war would be entirely naval and that
August’s talk and Lothar’s talk about sacking London
was just the usual bluff. She had read accounts of
the Franco-German war in 1870 and she had heard
her father talk of it. Her picture of that campaign
was of a patriotic and dignified nation going forth to
defend the right, fighting cleanly, dying bravely, se-
vere but just in victory, merciful to civilians, honestly
paying its way and doing no damage that could be
avoided. Those old ideas of Germany had been in the
background lately, and now that they reappeared
startled her by their unreality. Those Germans were
mot these Germans, boastful as children, vain as
savages, shrieking from the house-tops that might
was right. No doubt they were efficient and formida-
ble in war. “These fellows are like machines with a
devil inside them.” So Goethe had described the
Spanish soldiers whose cruelties in the Netherlands
were remembered and accursed after more than four
hundred years. Now in the twentieth century the
German machine was hammering at the gate of the
Netherlands and would probably let the devil loose
if it were thwarted. Brenda knew by this time what
the civilization of a Prussian amounted to when he
went mad with temper. But she took for granted
232 SALT OF THE EARTH

that even Prussians would respect non-combatants and
women and children.

When she got to the flat she forind that there was a
great deal to do. The maids had been paid off and
dismissed yesterday, so she was quite alone. Her
husband and his family considered her an incompetent
housekeeper partly because her ideas were English
ideas and partly because she had shown inexperience.
She considered that German women were devoted but
fussy, but the chief difference between the family and
herself was between their comments and her silence.
They told her all she did was wrong. She disliked
many of their ways and did not say so. She thought
they harried their servants and sacrificed their minds
to their stomachs; they thought her uninformed in
the domestic arts and happy-go-lucky. Yet she was
not a happy-go-lucky nature, but rather serious and
dutiful. She puzzled over things, too, and all through
her flat she found cases of what puzzled her in Ger-
many. The Germans were the most efficient, civilized,
moral and industrious people on earth; she had their
word for it. They were the salt of the earth. Their
Kaiser had told them so. Both men and women in
their respective and sharply separated spheres had
reached heights of perfection from which they looked
down at decadent races like the English and the
French. Why then had the kitchen saucepans been
put away in such a state of grease? Why were ends
of food left in the food cupboard and condiments in
the cruets? Why was the linen in a state of confusion
and Lothar’s dressing-room still strewn with the débris
of his hasty packing? Brenda had been told that
she need only attend to her personal belongings, and
as she had slept late after her journey this had taken
her most of her time. But what intrigued her was Lit-
tle Mamma’s remark at breakfast this morning about
having tucked away her dear boy’s possessions safely
and in an orderly manner, that an Englishwoman
SALT OF THE EARTH 233

would not know how to do it or be inclined to take
the trouble. Why praise yourself so loudly and so
much for what, after all, you have not done over
well? It was the same elsewhere, thought Brenda,
as with her sleeves turned up she attacked the dressing-
room floor with a dust-pan and a short brush. “Made
in Germany” was not the hall-mark of perfection it
should have been if German self-appraisement was
justified. The Germans did some things well and
some things badly, like other nations. They had fine
qualities and qualities the reverse of fine. Why were
they making war on the world and springing on it like
a thief in the night? The nation was acting as the
individual acted, using its sword as August, for in-
stance, used his tongue, to proclaim his own superior-
ity and be a scourge and an offense to others. But
their sword no doubt was sharp and ready. For that
the whole nation travailed and denied itself. What
would happen now that it was unsheathed against
her own sleepy country? Would the fight be like
one between a whale and an elephant, as Bismarck
had said, or would they come to a grapple?

A ring at the door diverted her ideas and she went
to answer it, hoping for a postman and letters, But
when she opened the door she saw Andrew Lovel, who
by this time should have been far away.

“You haven’t gone,” she cried.

“No.” He shut the door and Brenda took him into
the drawing-room. “Why didn’t you write?” she said.
“You said you would.”

“T called yesterday and left my card with my address
on it.”

“No one told me you had called. What time did
you come?”

“About three.”

“T was in. I was packing. Who opened the
door ?”

“A boy in uniform.”
234. SALT OF THE EARTH

“Fritz! Did you ask for me?”

“Yes; but I couldn’t make him understand and
while I was trying that little cat-faced woman came
along .. .”

“Mina!”

“And said you could not see any one. So I thought
I would have another try to-day.” I

“But why haven’t you started? It isn’t safe
here.”

“T’'m going on Thursday in the Embassy train. I
stumbled against an old school chum who has had a
diplomatic job here and he is looking after me.’

“T wish I could go with you.’

“T came to sée about that,” said Andrew.

“But my husband has not changed his mind,” said
Brenda. “He expects me to live with his parents while
he is away.”

“Are you all right with them?”

“Yes. I’m all right. At least I should be if I
could feel German ... but I can’t. I’m haunted!”

“Haunted !’’ :

“By a line... by three words—‘England, my
England.’ Everything is in it. Everything I love
and believe.”

“Ves,” said Andrew, and silence fell between them.

“They expect to be in Paris on Sedan Day,” said
Brenda, speaking when speech became easier than the
quivering silence that took them closer and closer in
thought and feeling. “Then they are going to invade
us and sack London. I know what you must think
when they boast and brag as they do. . .”

“Pride goes before a fall. I used to ‘write it in
copy-books.”

“But it isn’t simply boasting. Tell them so in
England, Andrew. Tell them they are up against
something formidable this time. ‘Machines and
devils in the machines.’ That describes them. You'll
see. And such hordes of them. I know England
SALT OF THE EARTH 235

won't believe in it at first. Her idea of a German is
of a little Whitechapel-hairdresser or a waiter, tallow-
faced and obsequious.”

“They are with us.”

“But they have all been trained and they are
rushing back at this very moment. England will
lock the door when they have gone. And they will

turn them into machines, and in the machines there».

will be devils; and devils will lead them.”

“Come back with me, Brenda. I’m sure your
father and mother would be glad if you did.”

“T don’t know. They have ideas about marriage.
They think it is irrevocable.”

“Well... so it is,” said Andrew, and Brenda
could have laughed at his simplicity if she had not felt
more inclined to cry. Dear Andrew! with his plain
code, his wholesome opinion and his want of subtlety.
He wanted to take her out of danger and distress, but
he wanted it for her sake only. She could see him on
their journey guarding her and serving her till she
was safely home, and then with his heart strong within
him bidding her good-bye. For she knew beyond a
doubt to-day that he loved her even as she loved him,
for ever. Yet she saw herself letting him go; and so
the old problem began to vex her soul again, the
problem of a standard you carry through life and may
not lower although victory denies you your heart’s
desire.

“Tell them that you’ve seen me,” she said, trying
to speak more lightly. “Tell them that I’m living
with Lothar’s parents in the greatest comfort. Will
letters pass between England and Germany?”

“T’ve no idea. I should think so.”

“T shall write and they must write, too; and so
must you, Andrew. Oh! I do envy you going back
where your heart is...”

She stopped because Andrew Lovel looked at her
and his eyes said what his lips dared not. His heart
236 SALT OF THE EARTH

was not going with him because in spite of all the laws
of God and man she had it in her keeping. And this
was the moment of farewell, possibly the last moment
they would spend together in this uncertain world.
She looked at him and tried to print his likeness on
her mind so that she might see him as he lived, every
day of the long empty years to come.

“You must go now, Andrew,” she said at last. “It’s
no use. We both know it’s no use. I must stay and
you must go.”

“Yes, I must go,” said Andrew. “But you won’t
forget, Brenda, will you? If ever you want me...”

“T know.”

“Wherever Iam. Whatever I’m doing ...

“Good-bye!”

ed
XXI

RENDA belonged to a generation that did not
take everything its grandfather and grandmother
believed for granted. She had seen “Mile-

stones,” that poignant picture of the progress of ideas.
She had seen all the plays that inveigh against the
moral and social laws: she had listened to ultra-
modern women talk of the right to motherhood: two
of her school-friends were brilliant suffragettes and
had been in prison: another had taken to the road
for three months because she wanted to see what it
was like. In Berlin, she had met women at Elsa’s
house who were in fierce revolt against everything
ordained by man: and above all against marriage.
In fact, Brenda’s experience was not out of date. It
is for her conduct you must make allowances. Some
strong inexplicable sense of duty had taken her back
to Berlin when she wanted to go to England with Jem
and Violet: and had kept her there although her hus-
band deserved nothing at her hands. Perhaps her
faithfulness was to her ideal of marriage rather than
to Lothar. She knew that if she had fled to England
with Andrew Lovel she would not have felt the inward
serenity that supported her now, although when she
was hard pressed she often asked herself if she had
not been a fool. A letter that came through from
Violet almost persuaded her of it. ‘We had a fright
when we stopped at Strasburg,” she wrote. “We
were told by the guard that an officer wished to speak
to us: and we expected trouble. But the officer was

237
238 _ SALT OF THE EARTH

an agreeable sad-looking man who had an English
wife and a young child. He said it was impossible to
leave them in Germany and asked if we would escort
them safely to England. Of course we did, and it
made me wish more than ever that you had come
with us. This couple had been living in a little
frontier town, and the things the wife told us about
military society there and about the way she had been
treated because she was English made one’s blood boil.
We told her about you, and she said she supposed it
would be better in Berlin. In a great city people are
never as rancorous and petty as in a village.’

Brenda could not agree to that. She fhonpht that
no village could outdo Berlin in spite and rancour.
She had heard August actually boast of the insults
heaped on the members of the Russian Embassy as
they left Berlin. He had been in the crowd. He
had seen the women and children crouching on the
floor of the cars to ‘avoid the blows of the mob. He
himself was not ashamed to say that he spat at them.
Why not? Was it not patriotic and noble to be
moved by your country’s danger and enraged by the
sight of your country’s foes. If he had his way he
‘would imprison every one of hostile blood, regardless
of age and sex. Moreover he had the best authority
for believing that this would shortly be done. He
glanced at Brenda as he spoke, but she did not ask any
questions or look perturbed, because she did not attach
weight to what August said. She asked Siegmund
Abel if she stood in danger of internment and he
assured her that she did not. In Germany a married
woman is if possible less of an entity than in other
western countries. As the wife of a German officer
Brenda was safe from the police.

But she was not happy. She had not realized what
it would mean to live amongst the enemies of her
country in war time. At least she had known that
it would be tiresome and disagreeable; but she had
SALT OF THE EARTH 239

not foreseen how acute her sense of desolation would
soon become and her longing for trustworthy news.
She had letters from home at irregular intervals, but
no English papers reached her and she could not buy
them in Berlin. In fact Siegmund Abel, who was not
a scaremonger, warned her not to attempt it or in
any way to emphasize her nationality out of doors.
She could not help looking English, and she soon found
that on this account she must not walk in crowded
streets or even enter shops alone, and her husband’s
people let her see that they preferred not to show
themselves in public places with her. Brenda could
hardly blame them, for every day there were stories
of insults offered to English people, while the restric-
tions put on those remaining in the city grew more and
more severe. At first she tried paying a few visits
in the usual way, but she now gave this up. People
she had liked received her kindly but with such evident
embarrassment that for their sakes she did not go
there again: while some she had been bound to know
officially but had never liked were downright rude.
She could not believe that the same thing was going
on in England in the same class. She hoped not. -
The old Erdmanns were kind according to their
lights. She occupied the best bedroom, had plenty
to eat and drink, and was never reproached with her
naionality except by innuendo. In fact Herr Erd-
mann went so far as to say that she could not help
having been born and bred in London, and that she
was not personally responsible for Sir Edward Grey's
villainy in causing the war. Frau Erdmann was not
so broad-minded as her husband. She said she could
not be. Every one with English sympathies was re-
sponsible, but Brenda was her daughter-in-law and
therefore entitled to protection as long as Lothar was
alive. Her being in the house made extra work for
everybody, but what did work matter at such a time
at this? It prevented one from thinking too much
x

240 SALT OF THE EARTH

about what was happening east and west. Frau
Erdmann was very seriously annoyed with Mina one
‘day because she said she meant to knit some winter
socks for the soldiers. The war would be over before
the leaves fell; and German men would be in their
homes again. The army was in Brussels already.
How niany days’ march then was it from Brussels to
Paris in this glorious weather?

No one seemed able to answer Frau Erdmann.
People talked of Louvain instead. It had been burned
to the ground because the brutal Belgians had fired
from their houses on peaceable German troops.
The All-Highest said his heart bled for Louvain!
What a Christian message! What a noble sentiment!
Worthy of the most humane and civilized nation in
the world.

“When a village or a city is burned to the ground
in war, what becomes of the people who live in it?”
said Brenda, and was told that hardships were in-
separable from war even when the most humane and
civilized nation in the world was waging it. She
was so little satisfied with this reply and so anxious
to know what was really happening that she wrote
to her mother asking urgently for news of what the
English were doing and for English papers. But none
came. She observed that the mood of Berlin was
changing for the worse: although the fall of Namur
was celebrated with rejoicings. Perhaps the Belgian
resistance had done something more than was admitted.
Perhaps at any rate it had given France and England
breathing time. It almost seemed as if there had been
a hitch in the German plans. After the fall of Mau-
berge and the destruction of Louvain came some bad
news, from Heligoland and Togoland: nothing
that could affect ultimate results, but enough to rouse
fresh feeling against the English, Brenda met it
everywhere.

“I wish I could go to England,” she said to Sieg-
SALT OF THE EARTH 241

mund Abel, and he answered, that in his opinion she
ought to have gone when war was declared. Now
it would not be easy.

“Can't I go by sea from Hamburg to Dover?” she
said.

He looked at her.

“Do you think that our ships are leaving Hamburg
as usual?” he said. ;

Brenda had not thought about it. She had heard
August say that the English navy was in hiding
because it was afraid of the German navy, and she
had seen the same thing solemnly asserted in most
German newspapers. She did not exactly believe it,
but of the real state of things she had not the least
idea.

“Tf our navy is afraid of yours and our soldiers
have all run away from yours, why do you hate us so?”
she said to August.

“You have engineered this war,” he snarled.

“But why did we since we have no army and an
inferior navy?”

“You let your Allies fight for you. That’s the
English way. The Russians are in East Prussia.
Berlin is full of refugees. God knows what will
happen to us all.”

Brenda could not go on with her questions. The
excitable little man was demented by fright and fury
she perceived, and she wondered what nerve he would
have next week for a lecture on the war that he was
to give in aid of a voluntary hospital. These were
dark days for Brenda for the English news that
reached her was uniformly bad. She heard and read
that the British Expeditionary Force had been cut to
pieces, that the Germans were thundering at the gates
of Paris and that Antwerp would shortly be in their
‘hands. The mood of Berlin had changed again to one
of triumph curiously mingled with the most vindictive
hate. She had spoken the truth to August when she
242 SALT OF THE EARTH

said that she did not understand it. If the Germans
believed what they said about their enemies: if they
were as sure of victory as they pretended, why did
they consume themselves with rage? Brenda had
heard of people turning green with rage, but whenever
, August talked of England she saw it happen. And
why always England-——that nation of unwarlike
‘hucksters who would not arm themselves and fight?.
Why not the Russian rabble or the French degenerates
for a change? It was whispered that the All-Highest
felt sorry for the French and would soon allow them to
conclude a separate peace. Russia, too, might receive
a drubbing and then be permitted to lie down. But
England! No fate that the poets of the nation could
invent was bad enough for England. Brenda saw
most of the comic papers and therefore saw the depths
to which the most cultured nation could descend. Yet
they only echoed what she heard everywhere around:
her. One poet described a funeral pyre on which
the whole English race, men, women and children
were burnt in sacrifice. He said the smoke of it
reached heaven and the fumes of it were pleasing to
German nostrils. In England Brenda might have
laughed as she read it. In Berlin she shuddered.
For this cult, of hate was making itself more and more
felt: and though it was a pitiable thing it was also
disturbing to any one marked out for a victim. Be-
sides, as time went on she felt that she was an incubus
in her husband’s family. They did not want an Eng-
lishwoman with them. Her presence was almost a
reflection on their loyalty, and as the temper of the
city rose might constitute a danger. She wrote in this
strain to Lothar, who was in Brussels, but received
no answer. She knew through Elsa that the beautiful
Jutta was in Brussels, too. She had written describing
a moonlight picnic to Louvain and had compared it
to Pompeii. August had said it was a beautiful
highly cultured letter, and that only a German woman
SALT OF THE EARTH 243

could have written it. Brenda, little as she knew about
Louvain, thought it an odious letter, but did not dare
to say so.

Willy nilly she had to go to August’s lecture about
the war and its causes. The whole household was
going and Little Mamma said that Brenda must come

. with them. If she refused and stayed at home then
‘Little Mamma would naturally stay at home, too. She
could not leave a guest alone even if the guest was a
daughter-in-law. Yes! Little Mamma knew such
things were done in England. But she had never
heard or read that the English understood hospitality.
Mina would be hurt to tears because, after the lecture,
she expected the whole family and one or two of
August’s colleagues to supper. She had expressly
said that she meant to make Brenda welcome as the
wife of Lothar, and try to forget that she belonged to
the same nation as the traitor Grey. Nevertheless,
if Brenda insisted on separating from the others on an
occasion meant to unite and cheer them...

So Brenda went and listened, unedified and uncon-
vinced. The lecture was given in a large hall crammed
with a sympathetic audience. From the first August
held it spellbound. The beady-eyed, tallow-faced little
man had the curious power many of his betters lack,
the power of making a heated appeal to the passions
of a crowd and firing it. His lecture was really a
tirade against England, coupled with a deification of
Germany, and this was naturally a popular theme.
Never in her life had Brenda heard such violent in-
vective or such a simple reason given for complicated
and far-reaching facts. England had attacked Ger-
many because she was smitten with envy and wished
to destroy her most powerful rival. She had land
and money, but she had neither a soul nor a mind.
Her sons were too depraved and degenerate to fight
themselves. They had to pay black and yellow men
to fight for them. Their tyranny over the races they
244 SALT OF THE EARTH

oppressed, their baseness and their despicable frivolity
cried to heaven, and heaven itself had ordained their
downfall at the hands of the noblest and the mightiest
nation that had ever taken the field. The audience
was asked to observe that the lecturer spoke of the
nation taking the field in brilliant and shame-inflict-
ing contrast with the mercenaries in petticoats and
turbans hired by England to murder Germans. God
help the heroes who fell into such hands. He would
now permit himself, if the audience could bear it,
to read a few verses of the patriotic poem that in-
spired the miserable British troops both when they
faced the invincible foe and when they ran away.
He had tried in vain to find any inspiration in the
words, or a single soul-ennobling idea, or even manly
courage.

“Good-bye, Piccadilly; good-bye, Leicester Square!”

He himself had never been in London, but he had
heard of these places at midnight, and considered that
men standing between life and death should have
more serious memories. However, the English could
sing what they pleased to-day. To-morrow their
conquerors would set the tune. What he begged of
his audience to remember, what he imposed on them
as a sacred duty, was inextinguishable Hate. Every
true German must feel it. Every true German must
practice it. England was the enemy. England must
go under. Down with England!

The audience certainly enjoyed it and agreed with
August: and Brenda, observing this, wondered again
what had happened to Germany? Were these people
educated if they could believe the stuff and nonsense
August preached and their newspapers wrote? and
were they civilized if this gospel of hate seized them
like a pestilence? Brenda knew as little about his-
tory and politics as most young women, but it struck
her that the average German opinion was inconsequent.
SALT OF THE EARTH 245

If Britain possessed the world why did she want
to destroy Germany? and if she was going to be
easily beaten why did she engender this maniacal
hate? How the audience applauded August! How
some of them stared at her! When he finished there
was a tumult for a moment. Men and women rose
to their feet. They sang Deutschland iiber Alles.
They shook their fists in imprecation. The song
degenerated into a wrangle and a scream. Some
began to leave the hall. Others approached the plat-
form. Where Brenda sat with the Erdmanns the
_throng pressed closer and closer as if it had detected
her and meant mischief. For one sickening moment
she felt afraid. She had heard the story of the girl
who was torn to pieces in a music-hall because she
had sung her National Anthem on the eve of war.
August had told it with gusto and said that she de-
served her fate. Brenda did not in the least want to
share her fate, she wondered how she could escape it.
She sat as still as a stone and her limbs felt like lead.
That man with a red swollen nose and an animal
mouth! He had looked at her all through the lecture
and was coming close. If he touched her! If others
clawed at her! Such things happened. How could
any one bear the things that were happening to-day?
How could men face bayonets?

“Come with me, Brenda,” said Siegmund Abel.
He was a big powerfully-made man, and he had edged
his way through the crowd until he reached her. He
knew that her nationality was unmistakable and he
wondered why she had come. He had not been sur-
prised to see hostile glances directed against her, and
while August lashed himself and his hearers into a
frenzy Siegmund had seen that when the lecture was
over she must be got away. Even educated well-
dressed people might lose their heads in these times,
and the old Erdmanns could not have protected her.

“Why did you come?” he said, as they walked
246 SALT OF THE EARTH

together to August’s house; and Brenda told him how
little she had wished to come and how impossible it
had been to stay at home.

“You should be in England,” said Siegmund. “I
shall write to Lothar and say so.”

“TI wish you would,” cried Brenda; and then they
reached August’s house and were received frigidly by
‘Mina, who had been too busy with supper to attend
the lecture.

“But I heard it,” she said, “August read it to me.
I predicted a great success. What touches my heart
will touch other hearts, I told him. We are all one
against the common foe. Was there much excitement ?
Where are the others? Why are you and Brenda
here first?”

“T brought Brenda out of it,” said Siegmund. “She
ought not to have been there at all.”

“Aber, Siegmund! I cannot understand you. Brenda
has married a German. Does not a wife accept her
husband’s nationality?”

Mina addressed her words to Siegmund and her
glance to Brenda: but neither of them spoke. Brenda
still felt sick and trembling because those moments
before Siegmund Abel came up to her had been hor-
tible. She had read of one against a mob, but she had
never even faintly imagined what the one would feel:
unwarned and seeing no sign of mercy. She wished
she had not felt so frightened though. She had
shown neither strength nor courage, She had failed.
XXII

INA had prepared an extra-special supper and
the table was laid for ten persons. She wore
the green silk tea-gown and the diamond

brooch in which Brenda had first seen her, and her
small weak face was hot and red with her exertions.
She seldom entertained Elsa and Siegmund because
they were “rich people,” and she could not pretend
to please them with her simple fare. Brenda heard
her making apologies in this vein to her brother-in-law
before the others arrived and heard him answer with-
out diplomacy that he liked simple fare. Then Mina
said in a sad hurt way that she had done her best
and basted the hare with sour cream, as she knew he
liked it, and that the price of everything just now was
hair-raising. Siegmund, to change the subject, said
the news was splendid to-day, but Mina, still hurt,
said that the wife of a poor professor who did her duty
had no time to waste over books and papers. She had
been in the kitchen and the nursery since seven o’clock
this morning, and August had ordered supper for
half-past eight. Everything would be spoiled if he
and the others did not come soon.

Then they came; the Erdmanns, August, Elsa and
three of August’s friends, all in a state of wild ex-
citement. An extra edition of some evening paper
had just come out with news of a great victory over
the English. They were cut to pieces. They were
finished. They were nowhere at all. The Germans
were practically in Paris, they had dropped proclama-

247
248 SALT OF THE EARTH

tions there and would enter on Sedan Day as the
All-Highest had promised. No one noticed Brenda.
She sat in a corner of the room where there was not
much light and she listened. She said to herself that
she would not and could not believe what these people
were saying. She wished she could escape from their
supper party’ and lock herself into her own room and
think about England. She knew the English were not :
finished. Was it likely? England! and here was
Germany, boasting, hating, sure of conquest. If only
she could get away and be in England again.

August was saying something about wine. He was
explaining to Elsa that a poor professor could not give
his guests French champagne, but that he was going
to celebrate the occasion with a good sparkling Moselle.
Mina looked decidedly cross because, as she said, sup-
per was on the table and the glasses required for the
Moselle were locked up in a cupboard. But of course
a superman like August does not give in to a woman
however cross she looks. He simply said: “Quick,
wife, get out the glasses!” and bustled to the cellar
where he kept his best wines. For he was not such
a poor professor as Mina pretended. At any rate he
could produce a few bottles of.good Moselle on such
a night as this. He looked as if he wanted a wash
and a brush when he came back with them, but Mina
did not seem to notice that. She gave a little shriek
of dismay because he planted the dusty bottles on
the clean white cloth of the supper table, rushed out
of the room and returned with a duster. She was
too late because when August had set them down they
had left their mark: but no one except Mina seemed
to mind. Everybody sat down to table in a jovial
mood and at first ate hors-d’euvre as hungrily
as if there was nothing to follow. They drank a
still wine with this course and the next: and two
of August’s friends drank beer. They said they
preferred it.
SALT OF THE EARTH 249

Brenda had not met many professors yet and she
knew that August’s friends were not likely to be
eminent ones. Two of these were of his caste and
frame of mind, but they had no chairs. In fact they
were not professors at all but only doctors of this and
that, miserably poor, abominably dressed, and not over
clean. The third was a fair-haired pleasant-looking
man who had a chair at one of the smaller Universities |
and was only in Berlin on a visit. The supper was
given in his honor because long ago August and he
had drunk Briiderschaft together, and though life had
parted them they had kept up a semblance of friendship
by letters. Now they met again there was disillusion-
ment, for August thought that Arthur had become
worldly, and Arthur perceived that August had not
grown either in light or learning. Some of these
things Brenda knew before supper began and some
she guessed at before it ended. She sat between
Siegmund Abel and one of the learned but incom-
pletely washed ones, and in so far as she talked at all
it was to Siegmund, because her neighbor on the other
side had discovered instantly that she was English,
and opened the ball by observing that the Erdmanns
must be extraordinarily broad-minded people to
harbor any one of her nationality. It was such a
difficult remark to answer that Brenda had looked at
him reflectively and then looked away. After all what
did he matter? Just a little this evening perhaps,
but not a feather-weight if only she could get back
to England. Now the great Arthur was beginning
to talk about her country and laying down the law.
However, he was only bringing the charge of bad
cooking and telling some rather amusing stories about
his adventures in search of a meal in a London suburb
ona Sunday. Mina, still flushed and quite incapable
of attending to any conversation, watched the progress
round the table of the hare cooked to perfection with
some cream and served with salsify and little fried
250 SALT OF THE EARTH

balls of potato. After the hare came a hazelnut tart
which was not in the least like any English tart.
Its chief components were a rich light cake, some kind
of preserve and whipped cream, flavored with nuts.
Mina had ordered it at a confectioner’s and paid five
marks for it: and though Brenda thought her portion
delicious it sent her ideas along the old track, trying
to discover which nation really did things best, Eng-
land or Germany. Mina had been up since seven
preparing for this party, and yet when you came to
think of it her cook and she together had only cooked
a hare and two vegetables. On the other hand the
hazelnut tart was better than anything you could
buy in England at an ordinary confectioner’s, the
bread was better than London bread, and the Russian
salad, the chief attraction of the hors-d’euvre, had
been késilich. No one called it Russian salad now
though. No one would allow that anything was
English, French or Russian, and Brenda wondered
whethe- Londoners had ceased to ask for German
sausage. These trivial reflections were quite out of
tune with the elated and bellicose mood of those who
had most to say to-night. The voices of August and
his friends made themselves heard above the clatter
of dishes and Mina’s wearying invitations to this one
and the other to eat and drink. They talked of;
nothing but the war; of the huge indemnities to be.
extracted, of the alterations in the map of Europe, and
of the next war, which August said would be with the
United States. If you could call it a war with a
nation that has neither an army nor a navy. But in
August’s opinion the possession of the United States
and Canada was necessary to the future of Greater
Germany. Arthur said he would rather seize the
whole of Africa. Brenda’s neighbor asked what
India had done to be left out. The sparkling Moselle
was bubbling in their glasses now, and after drinking
‘Arthur’s health they filled up again and went on
SALT OF THE EARTH 251

talking. They lighted cigars, too, and Mina went to
the sideboard to make coffee. Brenda’s glass was
still nearly full when August rose to his feet and began
to make a little speech, in which there was nothing new
because he had said it all at greater length in his
lecture. He had, taken more wine than usual, and
there was a spot of red in each sallow cheek. His
eyes looked wild and his speech spluttered as he
enlarged again on the crimes of England- against
Germany.

“Down with England!” he shrieked, holding up his
brimming glass. “Who drinks with me is my friend,”
and he glanced straight at Brenda. “Down with
England!”

Brenda fixed her eyes steadily on her plate and did
not move. She had met August’s glance, but had not
responded to it in any way. Every one else had risen
and was clinking glasses with August in the German
way. Even Siegmund Abel had risen, though he had
shrugged his shoulders and muttered something Bren-
da did not hear. Mina had come away from the side-
board and with a silly smile on her face was squeaking
“Down with England!’ Little Mamma shook her
head solemnly as she drank the toast, Papa Erdmann
downed England in a hoarse voice and emptied his
glass...

“Brenda!” screamed August. “Why are you not
drinking with us? I demand that you drink with
us.”
Brenda neither moved nor spoke. She felt very
cold as to her hands and feet and very confused as to
her mind. Should she continue to sit still and allow
these apes to gibber at her, or should she surprise them
by dashing to her feet and drinking boldly to England!
Perhaps it would be rather theatrical to do that, and
at any rate if she sat still she was less likely to break
down and cry.

“J demand that you drink with us,” said August
252 SALT OF THE EARTH

again. “Are you not the wife of a German who at
this very moment may be lying on the blood-stained
battlefield done to death by your cowardly com-
patriots.”

“Aber, Brenda!’ mewed Mina reproachfully.

“My poor boy!’ moaned Little Mamma.

“Do not excite yourself, Mamachen,” said Elsa; “TI
implore you not to excite yourself.. Lothar we know
is in Brussels.”

“T give you another toast,” said Siegmund Abel, .
“one that Brenda can drink with us, May Lothar
come safely back to his family!’

“Yes, I will drink that,” said Brenda, getting up
and looking gratefully at Siegmund. When she had
touched her glass she tried to catch the eye of Little
Mamma, but Frau Erdmann shot a baleful glance at
her daughter-in-law and said in an audible undertone
to August—

“My poor boy! that I should live to see his wife
side with his enemies!’

“T beg you not to excite yourself, wife,” said Herr
Erdmann in his dictatorial voice. “What is done
cannot be undone.”

“I thought that Lothar had married his cousin,”
whispered the great Arthur to Elsa. “I had a card
announcing his engagement . . . I don’t remember
the lady’s name.”

“It was Miiller,” said Elsa.

“Miller !’”

“Yes. They are cousins.”

“But then the lady is German.”

“Her parents are... but only by blood.”

“TIsn’t blood everything?”

“It seems to be nothing in these cases,” said Elsa
snappishly.

Brenda could hear every word of this dialogue
across the narrow dinner-table, and she observed an
alteration in the great Arthur’s manner that she had
SALT OF THE EARTH 253

observed in other Germans when she had claimed
blood kinship with them. Her value was lowered in
-his eyes. He thought less of her because she was not
sheer English, and his change of front had nothing to
do with her opinions, but proceeded from the curious
contradictory attitude of the Anglophobe German to-
wards the English, an attitude finding its counterpart
in the compound of appreciation and bitter grudge -
felt by the plebeian for the patrician: a compound
that may manifest itself in a lower nature forced
to recognize a higher one just as often as in the
class war that depends on such external benefits as
birth and property.

The rest of the evening passed quickly. The whole
party went into August’s book-lined study for half an
hour and then dispersed. Little Mamma said some-
thing as she bid good-bye about next Thursday, and
Brenda put her foot into it by asking what was going
to happen next Thursday. “Aber, Brenda!’ mewed
Mina, and Brenda wondered what crime she had com-
mitted now, and whether that little fool Mina could
not hit on some variety of remonstrance. Then she
reproached herself because this time she really had
committed a crime and forgotten that next Thurs-
day would be Little Mamma’s birthday, when every
member of the family and many friends would send
her flowers and other offerings, in return for which’
she would regale them with chocolate and cakes in
the afternoon. It was always a great day in the
Joachimstrasse, and last year Lothar, saying that he
detested family reunions, had paid his mother a brief
call early in the morning and avoided the house for
the rest of the day. He could always plead urgent
service.

“Tt cannot be a joyous occasion this year,” moaned
Little Mamma. “TI shall miss my lieber Junge, who
is always so attentive to his old mother and never
forgets an anniversary. Last year he arrived quite
254 SALT OF THE EARTH

early in the morning with a magnificent bouquet of
carnations, my favorite flower. I reproached him
with his extravagance, but he replied that nothing
could be too good for me. He was always so deeply
attached to his family.”

Brenda, hearing all this, could not help remembering
what had really happened last year. Prompted by
Elsa, she had reminded Lothar of his mother’s birth-
day, and with considerable difficulty persuaded him to
take the carnations she herself had bought for Frau
Erdmann. But this is not a world in which the truth
can always be made plain, and she went back this
evening with two elderly people who were less friendly
to her than they had ever been before. As the week
went on this attitude became more marked and Bren-
da’s consequent discomfort more acute. Sedan Day
came and went with no news of the fall of Paris; but
the triumphant march of the army to the very gates
of Paris was watched with intense pride and excite-
ment. When the news came that Amiens was in
German hands no one doubted that in the west the
worst of the struggle was over. From the east the
news was not so good, but every one hoped that the
Russians could be dealt with later. On the whole
the family met in a triumphant mood at the Joachim-
strasse on Thursday. August had just watched the
atrival of a large number of English prisoners, and
was rubbing his hands with pleasure over their misera-
ble appearance. To be sure they had not had a com-
fortable journey! He had managed to get into
conversation with a railway official, who took his view
that these cattle should be treated like cattle or worse.
For beasts were worth money, but English pig-dogs
were better dead than alive. He could not understand
why good German food should be wasted on them. -
They had traveled, he was told, in cattle trucks that no
one had troubled to clean, wounded and unwounded in
a crowd together. They had looked as hungry as
SALT OF THE EARTH 255

wolves and the wounded ones were clamoring for
water. Pig-dogs!

“Did you give them water?” asked Brenda.

“I! Why should 1?” and August looked round at
the united family, calling for a chorus to his solo; and
inviting it to denounce the enemy in their midst.

The large room had a gala appearance this after-
noon. There was a “birthday” table on which the
presents were arrayed, but so many flowers had come
that these had been placed wherever they looked well
in Little Mamma’s opinion. The presents were perhaps
not as costly as usual because in war-time money was
scarce with most people; but Herr Erdmann had
given his wife a handsome set of furs, and Elsa had
brought her mother a small fitted dressing-case that
she said Frau Erdmann would find useful when she
went to Italy in the spring. Mina, the poor Professor’s
wife, only produced an embroidered cushion, and there
had been a painful little scene because Frau Erdmann,
in her honest German way, had said that her own child
ought to know that those moldy art reds were not
her taste at all. However, the children had not only
made her Kindergarten straw photograph frames, but
they had stood on hassocks and been coaxed to declaim
birthday poems composed by August and charged
with family and patriotic sentiment! It was just as
the second came to an end that the chambermaid
appeared, saying that a wooden case had arrived from
the railway on which there was something to pay.
Herr Erdmann went out to see about it and returned
with a large flat wooden case that, in a voice striving
vainly to be calm, he said came from Brussels.

“My Lothar!’ exclaimed Frau Erdmann, clasping
her hands. ‘He has remembered his old mother on
her birthday.”

“Aber, Mamma!” cried Mina, “could you doubt that
he would? Let us hope that he has not chosen the
wrong red.”
256 SALT OF THE EARTH

“Tt is evidently a picture,” said Elsa.

The whole family crowded round the case while
Herr Erdmann, assisted by the chambermaid and
advised by August, got it open. Then some news-
papers were removed and then Herr Erdmann, looking
blankly at his wife, handed her first a pink and then a
tangerine yellow silk petticoat—and such petticoats,
of a tube-like narrowness, but yet elaborately trimmed
with lace and frills.

“The dear boy!” said Frau Erdmann. “How did
such an idea come into his head?”

But Herr Erdmann, like a conjurer performing

with a silk hat, was now pulling the most amazing
mixture of things out of the box, so that every one
watching grew on edge with curiosity as to what
would come next. Beneath the petticoats there had
been a layer of ladies’ nightgowns made of the finest
lawn and embroidered: and then numbers of packages,
each one wrapped up in some article of lingerie. There
were three small clocks, a pair of Cloisonné vases
which Elsa said must be valuable, a whole Sévres tea-
service, toilet articles of tortoiseshell with a gold
monogram and coronet, and carefully sealed, a tin
box, which when opened was seen to be full of trinket
cases and silver spoons.
_ After the first chorus of exclamations and delight
some people watching had turned rather silent. Then
when the picture, cut out of its frame and covering the
bottom of the box, was taken out every one began to
chatter again. Meanwhile Brenda had made two dis-
coveries that in her innocence surprised her. The
lingerie had not come straight from any shop. It had
been worn, and the monogram on it and on the tortoise-
shell brushes and boxes was not Little Mamma’s
monogram. Moreover, a year of their income, prob-
ably two or three years of their income, would not
have paid for the things Lothar had sent.

“War is war!” announced August,
SALT OF THE EARTH 257

“Here is a letter,” said Little Mamma, who had
been rummaging in the box of spoons and trinkets.
“He says I am to keep what I please and give the
rest to Elsa and Mina. He does not mention Brenda,
but he adds that he has looked after himself and sent
things to his own address. How generous he is to
give us so much. The dear boy!”

“I have always been short of spoons,” bleated Mina.
XXIII

RENDA had often passed through Brussels
station, and once she had stayed a night in the
town and just had time before going on to walk

up and down the rue Royale, look at the shops and
buy some gloves and chocolate. So she remembered
Brussels chiefly by its main street of shops, by its
tall white houses with carefully curtained windows
and by a comfortable hotel. But she remembered the
station itself best because she had often waited an
hour or two there, and when she saw it swarming with
German soldiers, she had some insight for the first time
into what the war must mean to Belgium. Lothar
met her, and the first thing she noticed about him was
a half-healed scar on his cheek, a scar oddly barred
as if a weapon like Britannia’s trident had made it.
She asked no questions, for he did not meet her with
any show of affection, and he was evidently quite well.
He was also evidently out of humor. She knew very
little of what he had been doing since he left Berlin,
and she had not had a single letter from him until
two days ago, when she had received a brief note tell-
ing her to come to Brussels at once and bring clothes
for a long stay. She was glad to leave Berlin, and
inasmuch as Brussels was on the way to England she
was glad to go there. But she wondered why Lothar
had written, until she showed his letter to the Erd-
manns who then informed her that it was at their
instigation. They had decided that her presence had
a deleterious effect on Little Mamma’s nerves, and
258
SALT OF THE EARTH 259

that as their son had unhappily married one of his
country’s enemies he must be responsible for her con-
duct in war-time.

“August says it is simply dangerous,” added Little
Mamma. “If the Russians came, which God forbid,
you might assist them.”

“Tf I even suspected such a thing it would be my
duty to shoot you dead,” said Herr Erdmann.

“We have never had a scandal in the family,” wailed
Little Mamma. “I shouldn’t like it at all.”

“T shouldn’t like it either,” said Brenda, and packed
her trunks. She had to go to her own flat for some
of the winter clothes she wanted, and she found that
the room in which she had said good-bye to Andrew
Lovel revived her memories of that parting too acutely
for her peace of mind. She wondered what he was
doing, whether he had gone back to New Zealand or
whether he had joined the new army, at which the
Germans poked all their heaviest-and most malevolent
fun. She wondered whether they would ever meet
again, and whether she would ever live in this flat
with Lothar again. She still supposed the war would
be over in a few weeks’ time, and she knew nothing
about the real issues of the Battle of the Marne. She
saw that Siegmund Abel took the situation seriously,
but August persuaded the rest of the family that
Siegmund was old-fashioned. He still believed in
Bismarck, who had feared a coalition and had had no
colonial policy. August knew that the nations opposed
to them were all degenerates, and that Germany must
spread herself in Asia and Africa or perish. Brenda
did not even attempt to say good-bye to August.
Whatever terrors Brussels held it would not hold him,
and she thought that in leaving him behind she left
all she detested most in modern Germany.

But as she drove out of the station with Lothar
she saw Germany in Brussels everywhere and Germany
beside her, domineering and truculent. The driver
260 SALT OF THE EARTH

took a wrong turn and tried to explain that he had
not understood what Lothar said: and Lothar: fell
upon him as if he had been an offending dog, abusing
him in guttural French so that Brenda wondered the
man did not stop his cab and refuse to take them a
yard farther.

“Are you staying at an hotel?” she asked when they
drove on.

“No. Iam sharing a flat with the Prasslers.”

“With the Prasslers?”

“Yes. Have you any objection?”

“If I had known it I would not have come,” said
Brenda.

“What would you have done? Gone to an intern-
ment camp? My family would not be responsible for
you any longer.”

Brenda could say nothing more just then because
the cab stopped at one of the tall white houses in a
residential street and Lothar got out. He gave orders
about the luggage and then, looking as black as thun-
der, he stalked upstairs, leaving his wife to carry her
dressing-case and follow him. By the time she reached
the second floor the door had been opened and a maid-
servant stood there to receive her. So did Lothar,
and without speaking he ushered her into a room at
which five or six officers sat at supper with Frau
Prassler. Brenda had been traveling all day and
wished she could back out again before these roysterers
saw her. This word for them came into her mind as
she went slowly forward, receiving swift confused
impressions of light, wine, loud laughter, dishes heaped
with fruit, Frau Prassler sheathed in red, her hair
done in a coil on each ear, her husband flushed with
wine already, and five men clattering to their feet
to receive the newcomer.

“Ah! our little Englishwoman!) said Frau Prassler,
and she too got up rather slowly and lazily as if the
effort was hardly worth while. “We have not waited
SALT OF THE EARTH 261

you see. Trains are often unpunctual still. You
will sit down with us as you are, will you not? or
would that offend your English ideas?”

Brenda was not a saint by any means. She had
human infirmities of temper and an eye for the feline
in her own sex. Her dislike of the beautiful Jutta
was active and healthy, and the idea of being under
the same roof with her insufferable. She said some-
thing about washing off the dust after her long jour-
ney, and, turning to Lothar, told him that she wished
to see her room.

“Why not sit down as Frau Prassler suggests?”
began Lothar; but his wife for once paid no attention
tohim., She went out of the room and he followed her.

“This is your room,” he said, opening the door.
“You are not going to make a great toilet, I suppose.
Every one knows that you have been traveling.”

Brenda did not make what Lothar called a great
toilet, but when she went into the dining-room again
she looked as fresh as paint and as young as spring.
Major Prassler told her so in set phrases, and all the
other men except Lothar paid her attention. They
were none of them drunk, but they were just the other
side of sober, inclined to talk a great deal, rather red
in the face and excitable. One of them asked her
what people were saying in Berlin? Were they as
pleased as they ought to be by the conquest of Belgium
or were they too stupid and ignorant to understand
- what had been done?

“Have you conquered all Belgium?” said Brenda.
“What about Antwerp?”

“We shall have Antwerp.”

“And Paris?”

“Paris certainly. Do you doubt it?”

“And Calais?”

“Calais is necessary to us for our operations against
England. But you have not answered my questions
about Berlin?”
” 262 SALT OF THE EARTH

“It isn’t easy to answer for a whole city,” said
Brenda. “I saw very few people except one night at
a lecture.”

“Whose lecture?” said Lothar, joining in. “What
was it about?”

“It was about the crimes of England,” said Brenda.
“August gave it. He explained that England had
engineered the war in order to destroy the commercial
and intellectual supremacy of Germany. He had a
great success.”

“He deserved it since he told the truth,” said Frau
Prassler.

Brenda was watching a pear that Major Prassler
was peeling for her. She would much rather have
peeled it herself, but that his sense of chivalry would
not allow, he said. Every now and then he touched
the pear, and his hands, though not exactly dirty, were
not exactly clean either. She had spoken of August’s
lecture in a level voice without anger or derision;
and that seemed to anger her audience.

“You do not agree with the lecturer,” said one
man who was older than the others: a man with a
heavy chin and a low brutal forehead.

“Are you going to ask a young woman her opinion
of war and politics?” cried Lothar with a loud jeering
laugh. “How can it matter what women think, espe-
cially Englishwomen? They will dance to our tune
when we get over there, as the Belgians have
done.” {

“Frightful,” said Frau Prassler with an affected
little shudder. “War is frightful!”

Brenda did not notice what she said because when
Lothar had spoken the byplay of two young lieuten-
ants sitting opposite her attracted attention. . They had
both been drinking a good deal, and had put off the
reserve of manner usual amongst civilized men when
women are present. They sprawled on their chairs,
they picked their teeth, and at the mention of Belgian
SALT OF THE EARTH 263

women they leered at each other like satyrs. Then
one of them with a hiccup and a laugh went through a
little pantomime that wrote itself on Brenda’s under-
standing corrosively. “He looked across the table at
Lothar, he winked at his friend, and with three fingers
stretched like the prongs of Britannia’s trident he
clawed at his face. Then a maid came in with coffee,
and Brenda looked at her with interest because she
was a Belgian woman. But she met the girl’s eyes
and looked away again. You do not stare into the
living eyes of tragedy incarnate.

The evening was finished in a salon that had obvi-
ously been stripped of its pictures, smaller furniture
and knickknacks. Even the curtains were gone, al-
though the upholstered canopies showed that they must
have been of a heavy pale-blue silk brocade. There
was a grand piano in the room on which one of the
lieutenants began to play melodies from “The Merry
Widow,” and there was a large pouf of brocade
cushions on which several of the other officers subsided.
As they smoked they shook off their cigar ash on the
cushions. Frau Prassler sat in an easy-chair that sug-
gested a throne because it occupied a central position
and had smaller chairs grouped near it. Lothar and
the older man, who was an Oberst, both sat at her feet,
and engaged with her and the men on the pouf in a
general conversation. The Oberst got very heated as
he talked, and presently he took a penknife from his
pocket, opened it and emphasized what he was saying
by slashing at the brocaded arm of an empty chair
close by. When he began to do this Frau Prassler
drew it out of his reach, and said it was going with
other things to Berlin when she had finished with the
flat. The Oberst apologized, and said that he thought
she had collected all she wanted, and that he consid-
ered it his duty to destroy enemy property as com-
pletely as possible. Brussels was now a German city,
but he supposed that after the war some of the
264 SALT OF THE EARTH

Belgian beasts would be allowed to come back, and
then the less they found the better. Brenda sat a little
way off, listening to the music, hearing what was said,
watching the conquerors, She felt ill at ease amongst
them and in a sense afraid. They had big coarse
bodies, and loud guttural voices; they were ruthless and
greedy; they were roystering and unashamed. Lothar
for instance had both hardened and deteriorated. Per-
haps as a soldier active service had exhibited his
efficiency, but it had certainly added to his arrogance,
and swept away ordinary restraints. There was
something about him and about the other officers that
‘she could only think of as something unchained. They
had bloodshot eyes and reckless loud manners. In
spite of the iron discipline that fetters them they were
in a fever with memories of bloodshed about which
she dared not think. The little lieutenant had left
off strumming now. What a silly vacant face he
had, what a fatuous smile! and how often she had
met his like in Berlin, lions amongst the ladies. He
was certainly the worse for liquor, and as he stum-
bled across the room towards the open fireplace Frau
Prassler’s cold eyes followed him derisively, and she
said in a low voice to Lothar that the little man had
to leave for the front to-night and evidently did not
like the idea. As she spoke a crash of broken glass
startled every one in the room and sent the older men
to their feet in a fury. The little lieutenant had
seized a stool and, before any one could stop him, had
smashed the legs of it into the large mirror over the
fireplace.

“Deutschland iiber Alles,’ he screamed, and with a
foolish cackle sank’ upon the nearest chair. The
Oberst spoke to him sternly. Such things were not
done in the presence of German ladies, he said.

“She isn’t German,” said the little hero, pointing
a finger at Brenda. “She’s English. I'll ask her for
a kiss!”
SALT OF THE EARTH 265

Brenda did not stop to see how the older men dealt |
with him. She fled to her own room and locked the
door. Presently she heard prolonged and noisy de-
partures. Then the blessed peace of night came and
she fell asleep, wondering whether after all Brussels
in war-time was going to be any improvement on
Berlin. Next day when she was nearly dressed Lothar
came in to her and explained that she would have
nothing to do with the housekeeping. They were to
be the paying guests of the Prasslers.

“It is not an arrangement that I shall like,” said
Brenda plainly. “I am surprised that you have,made
it.”

“Be surprised then. Do you suppose that I mean
to study your likes and dislikes? If you are not
satisfied with what I arrange you can try an intern-
ment camp. I’m in no mood for argument. You are
a visible danger to me. You are a hindrance to my
career. I would give a thousand pounds if I had
never married you.”

Brenda looked at Lothar and then turned her eyes
away because the morning light fell with cruel ex-
posure on those barred lines scarring his face. They
were not healed yet and she wondered if they were
painful, but she could not ask him about them.
Besides, her thoughts were groping for an answer to
what he had just said and found none.

“T should be less visible if I were in England,” she
suggested after a prolonged silence.

“How do you propose to get there?”

“IT am a British subject.”

“Nothing of the kind. ‘You are the wife of a
German officer. If they caught you in England, they’d
shoot you for a spy.”

“T’d risk that,’”’ said Brenda.

“You don’t believe it?”

“We don’t shoot women and children in Eng-
land.”
266 SALT OF THE EARTH

“How do you know what the pig-dogs do in war-
time?”

“I know the pig-dogs,” said Brenda.

Lothar hammered on the nearest table with his fist
and said he would not be ridiculed by any woman,
least of all by his wife, and that if she were going to
behave in this way she should return to Berlin by the
next train. He then explained ponderously that he
might speak of the English as pig-dogs because he
believed they were pig-dogs; but she might not be-
cause she did it in derision of him.

“T' see your point of view,” said Brenda; but that
morning whatever she said seemed to irritate him, and
she was glad when he had to leave her to attend to his
work. She had breakfast by herself in the dining-
room, then she unpacked one of her trunks and then,
seeing no reason against it, she went out for a walk.
It was a hot glorious September day, and she wore a
white gown and a plain straw hat, and she said to
herself, as she pinned on her hat before a glass, that
every one must see that she was an English pig-dog.
She decided on that account that she would keep near
home. However, as chance would have it, she did
not even get to the end of the long deserted street
into which she emerged. She had hardly walked half-
way down it when a seedy-looking man, who must
have been hiding under one of the archways into
the old courtyards, walked beside her, and in a hoarse
insinuating voice said—

“Madame is English!”

Brenda walked on, trying to take no notice, but the
man kept close to her and in a whisper that quavered
with fright said—

“What would Madame give for a number of ‘The
Times’ containing a full description of the destruction
of Louvain?”

“How much do you want?” said Brenda, stopping
short.
SALT OF THE EARTH 267

“I want twenty francs,” said the man.

“Twenty francs for a copy of “The Times’ ?”

“T know some one who would give me fifty, but he
is suspected. I fear to go near him.”

“What do you fear?” said Brenda, and looking at
the man again, she decided that he was pitiable and
not in any sense dangerous. What did he fear? What
did he know? What would she find in that copy of
“The Times” when she had bought it? What horror
lay behind the hopeless sorrow in the eyes of the
little Belgian maid? That pantomime she had sur-
prised at table yesterday! That wound on Lothar’s
cheek! and his bloodshot eyes! “What do you fear?”
she said again, and the man, seeing that she was
English, unloosed his tongue.

In the shadow of an old archway, secure from
eavesdroppers, sheltered from the midday sun, Brenda
stayed for nearly half an hour, hearing from Belgian
lips of the deeds done in Belgium. The man convinced
her in spite of his seedy clothes and his extortions. He
came from Ardenne, where they shot down old men
with machine guns, burnt young men alive, bayoneted
women with child, dismembered young girls and
children . . . he was a common man, plain of speech,
and he did not spare Brenda when she turned white
and sick. His common insensitive mind thought that
what his countryfolk had borne in the flesh she could
hear of and swear to avenge. She fled from him when
she could endure it no longer, and ran upstairs, “The
Times” in her hand. Luckily Siegmund Abel had
seen that she brought some Belgian money with her
and she had been able to buy the paper. ‘She had no
latchkey, so she rang, and the little Belgian maid
opened the door. Brenda looked at her.

“Madame is ill!’ said the little maid, lifting her
miserable eyes to the English lady’s deathlike face.
Brenda drew the girl with her into her room and shut
the door.
268 SALT OF THE EARTH

“Where do you come from?” she asked her.

“Madame, my home was at Haecht.”

“What has happened there?”

The girl told her, without tears. Brenda saw that
she was beyond tears. She told the same story as
the shabby hawker in the street had told; a story of
hellish cruelty and lust. The whole family had per-
ished in that orgy; her parents, a married sister and
three younger children. The youngest of all, a boy
of three, had been found crucified to the door of the
barn. The parents had been burned alive in their
house. The married sister who had been with
child.

Brenda ‘put out her hands as if she could bear no
more, and then before she could stop the girl her
thought changed. She took the crazed creature into
her arms and tried to comfort her, while at the back
of her own mind the livid scar on Lothar’s face
pictured itself, ominous and betraying.
XXIV,

RENDA found that the copy of “The Times”
she had bought did not contain the promised
accounts of the destruction of Louvain, but a

column called “The Infamy of Louvain,” describing
the treatment of civilians sent as prisoners to Ger-
many. She knew later that English people, reading
this and similar descriptions, hardly believed them;
but she believed because she could see the type of
German official, stupid and enraged, who could order
and carry out these cruelties. Nothing she had heard
to-day ‘surprised her as much as it would have sur-
prised her a year ago when her conception of Germany
was made up of poetry and tradition. When August
had gloated over the ill-treatment of English prison-
ers the women of the family had listened callously.
When some Frankfurt ladies, showing a spark of
human feeling, had given French wounded coffee and
cigars a Berlin paper had published a coarse scurrilous
poem about them, saying that they ought to be horse-
whipped. It is impossible to tell you completely how
Brenda’s ideas of Germany had changed since her
marriage, because it had been a gradual process,
culminating in the spectacle of Germany at war, its
passions unloosed, its brutalities allowed full play.
What shocked her most was that the better part of the
nation made no protest. It was either servile or
blind.

Her own position became more and more perplexe
ing. Lothar did not want her here and his family did

269
270 SALT OF THE EARTH

not want her in Berlin. Yet, in her opinion, her place
was here with her husband, since he had refused to
let her go to England. At the same time a husband
who is publicly indifferent and wnfaithful is an
impossible companion. Even Brenda with her rigid,
unthought-out ideas of marriage recognized that.
When she had read “The Times” she sat in her own
room for some time and tried to see her way more
clearly. She sat there safe and sound, the sun shining
in upon a pleasant, well-furnished room; and that was
part of the great tragedy that encompassed her, but
had not rent her yet. She occupied the room at the
expense of some innocent victims driven out of it.
Through the open window came the sound of martial
music and of marching troops, going forth perhaps
to burn and pillage and murder. She had grown to
womanhood in a quiet, happy home, reading here and
there of bloody deeds but never expecting to be near
them. Now whole nations were near them, the
oppressors and the oppressed both suffering. For
she had seen the Berlin hospitals full of wounded men
and the Berlin streets crowded with miserable-
looking refugees from East Prussia. The Russians
had taken Lemberg, she read in “The Times,” but
the English were in retreat, fighting like lions against
fearful odds. How can men die better? And in the
Bight of Heligoland there had been a naval victory.
She wondered in what way the German papers and
August would turn it into an English defeat; and
she hoped that however the tide of battle rolled her
country would never gloss over a defeat or exag-
gerate a victory. That would be unworthy, and in
this hour of peril and of trial England must rise to her
own greatness. How Brenda longed to be there, to
hear the English tongue again, to see what the English
were doing, to find some little corner where even she
could work and help!

A knock at the door! and without waiting for a
SALT OF THE EARTH 271

“Come in,” the beautiful Jutta walked into the room,
as usual the glass of fashion, in a gown of shot
taffetas, a close hat with a prancing osprey, light
gloves and an en tout cas with a jade handle. She had
got herself up like a Parisian fashion plate, and yet
no one could take her for anything but a German. She
had the German mouth and smile, thought Brenda,
unmistakable and indescribable; and she had the Ger-
man way of spoiling her turnout by something un-
suitable and incongruous. Why with a green and
purple taffetas did she wear brogued shoes of a
screaming mustard yellow? It was impossible to
associate sorrow or tragedy with the beautiful Jutta.
She stood for success: hard, selfish success at any
cost to others. Perhaps after all she was a type of
the Germany that had turned Europe into a shambles
to gain its own ends. She bid Brenda good morning
with her eyes on the English newspaper, she said that
she was going out to lunch, and she seemed to take
for granted that Brenda would stay at home.

“Will Lothar be in to lunch?” said Brenda.

“T have not ordered it for him. May I ask where
you found that copy of “The Times’?”

“T bought it in the street.”

“You have been out . . . by yourself?”

“Why not?”

Frau Prassler gave a little shrug of the shoulders,
as if it was not her business, and with a word of
apology for hurrying away left the room. When
Brenda went into lunch she was surprised to find Ma-
jor Prassler at table, eating heartily but in a state of
anger and excitement that was embarrassing.

“Where is my wife?” he said. “With your husband
as usual, I suppose?”

Brenda hardly knew whether to laugh or cry. The
big red-faced man looked so much annoyed that she
felt sorry for him; and she felt sorry for herself, too;
but she ‘did not know what she could say to pacify
272 SALT OF THE EARTH

him. However, he spoke again and changed the
subject.

“There is bad news,” he said. “I am off to-night.
I want Jutta to go back to Berlin. She ought never
to have come. Who wants women about in a war
area? They are simply a nuisance. You had better
go back with her.”

“What is the news?” said Brenda, on tiptoe to
hear; for anything he called bad news would rejoice
her, while his good news would cast her down. Per-
haps this occurred to him, for he glanced at her sourly
and only said that a great battle was raging on the
Aisne. The issue was still uncertain.

“Will Lothar go to-night?” asked Brenda.

“Lothar! Not that I know of. He has a different
job now. Didn’t you know?”

“T have never known much about Lothar’s work,”
said Brenda.

The Major grunted and gobbled, but said nothing
articulate. Brenda wondered what was happening at
the front and how she could get any trustworthy news.
She felt too restless and anxious to stay at home.
If she went out she could watch people’s faces, hear
their talk and buy more papers. Why should she
not go out, since she looked like a pig-dog? The
Belgians would feel friendly to her, and she sup-
posed that even the Boches would not murder her
in the streets of Brussels, unless they had orders to

‘destroy and slay as they had done in Louvain. She
must risk that.

There were a great many soldiers about certainly,
and some of them looked like the Major, excited and
perturbed. She thought that some of the Belgians
looked excited, too, but she could not feel sure. They
were not standing about in groups or talking to each
other, and many of them looked dejected and pre-
occupied. The papers she bought told her of German
victories and the imminent fall of Paris. She found
SALT OF THE EARTH 273

herself close to a public park before long, and sat
down in a shady seat to réad. She did not know
the name of the park; she had not a friend in Brussels,
for she could not count Lothar a friend. She won-
dered whether English people were allowed to leave
the city and whether she could go with them. She
wondered whether the Allies were near and would
soon retake Brussels? Major Prassler had certainly
been in a state of intense excitement, and it was about’
the war news. She did not think he minded much
about his wife. There they were, Lothar and the
beautiful Jutta, promenading towards her, not exactly
hand-in-hand but openly devoted and adoring. Brenda
knew how Lothar looked when he was in love, and
that long glance of covetous appreciation. Should
she sit still or run away? Had they seen her?

If they had they showed no sign of it but walked
slowly past her, absorbed in each other. Brenda,
feeling bewildered and dejected, made her way slowly
back to the flat, the loneliest creature surely in the
city. What would happen next in this new cataclys-
mic world, she wondered. Who would go, who stay,
who live, who die? Nothing seemed certain except
that her marriage had become a farce and that her
personal sorrows were of small account in the general
welter of blood and lust quite close to her—as close as
those scars on her husband’s inflamed face. How
could the beautiful Jutta see them and laugh into his
eyes as she had done this afternoon? In what struggle
had they been inflicted and what penalty had been
paid? Brenda knew that Lothar had been in Louvain,
and in villages on the way to Louvain. What were
his memories when his eyes met Jutta’s with that
warmth in them? and what remained of a marriage
as miserably dissolved as his in a world going under
by flame and sword?

Brenda tried to read when she got back to the flat,
but found that she could not. Before long Major
274 SALT OF THE EARTH bi

Prassler returned in ‘a hurry of preparation for his
departure; and then his wife and Lothar came, too,
complacent and content. News had come through
of a German rally on the Aisne. All was going well
again and Major Prassler would be marching into
Paris before many days. So said Jutta. But the men
took the situation more seriously. The Major ex-
horted his wife to return to Berlin at once, but she
derided his anxieties and said that she was as safe
here as there. She promised to clear out at the least
sign of danger; but, as he knew, they were living here
rent free, while in Berlin they would have to pay
through the nose for everything.

“But you have your own flat there,” said Brenda.

“We have let that to a rich man from K6nigsberg
who is afraid of the Russians,” said Jutta.

“I wish we could have let ours,” said Lothar. “We
never do anything so sensible.”

Brenda could not understand the Major. He did
not seem to care much whether his wife stayed here
or went home. After he had advised her to go to
Berlin he seemed to think he had done all he need do
and talked entirely of himself and of the food and
wine he wanted sent after him. There was good wine
in the cellar belonging to the flat, and he was going
to divide it with Lothar. Some champagne was
opened just before he started and his health drunk in
it. Lothar went with him to the barracks from which
his regiment was to start and came back with some
additional instructions about wine. The beautiful
Jutta heaved a sigh and murmured something about
the poor good man, might Heaven spare him, and then
settled down to a game of cards with Lothar. Brenda
tried to read a novel, but found her attention wan-
dered to the pair sitting in close communion on a small
brocaded seat that just held them. Considering that
she was in the room she thought the most elementary
code of manners might have directed them to show

,
SALT OF THE EARTH 275

more restraint. But the woman ogled the man and
the man made sheep’s eyes at the woman, while their
voices, if not their actual words, proclaimed their
intimacy. At last, though it was only nine o'clock,
Brenda got up and went to bed. They answered her
good night with brazen indifference and hardly looked
up from their game.

During the next fortnight life pressed hard on
Brenda, so that she looked here and there like a hunted
creature for some way of escape. Her position had
become intolerable, for neither Lothar nor Jutta con-
sidered her in any way. At home they flaunted their
intimacy in her face and abroad her presence gave
them security. She thought that every one who came
to the house understood the true state of things and
derided her acquiescence in it. Yet what could she
do? Remonstrance with Lothar was worse than
useless. It roused him to fury. He regarded her
as wholly in his power, an encumbrance, and a critic;
in each guise a thing to trample on. So he trampled
in the time-honored way, shouting, stamping, cursing
her and her country, painting victory red. When
these violent scenes had left Brenda shaken and de-
feated Jutta would make bad worse by her airs
towards Lothar of sympathy and possession. She was
so sorry for the poor man and so glad that he had
her to console him. She pictured herself married to
an Englishman in this great hour and understood how
Lothar must suffer from his wife’s obstinate want of
duty. For in Jutta’s opinion it was a woman’s duty
to accept her husband’s nationality at any cost to
her own feelings. If she had married an Englishman
she would now be English. Yet, as she said this she
shuddered, for it sounded blasphemous.

She was an evil woman. After being under her
heel for a fortnight Brenda had to recognize this
though it upset ancient theories about good in every
one and your power of appeal to it. She could find
276 SALT OF THE EARTH

no good in Jutta anywhere; at any rate evil overlaid
good and made her dangerous. She had the whip
hand of Brenda and that did not awake her generos-
ity. She knew neither shame nor mercy. The little
Belgian maid feared and hated her, but knew of no
other roof to her head. She constantly came to
Brenda for advice and comfort in her troubles, half
understanding that Brenda was in something of the
same case. One day they met outside and went to-
gether to see some members of a family who had
escaped from the German fury in Louvain. The little
maid had once lived with them as their servant, for
they had been prosperous tradespeople with a com-
fortable house. Now no one was left but the wife,
who was recovering from a bayonet wound in her side,
and one child who had been badly burnt. They were
penniless but were being nursed by some relatives in
Brussels. Brenda stayed with the woman for an hour
and heard her story. She had seen her daughter in
the hands of drunken soldiers and knew that she was
dead. Her husband had been shot as he tried to help
her out of their burning house, and her son, badly
wounded, had been sent in a cattle truck to Germany.
She did not know whether he was dead or alive. Their
friends, their neighbors, people above them and below
them socially had suffered with them. Nearly every
one the woman knew in Louvain and elsewhere had
been clawed by the wild beasts let loose on their homes.
Brenda had not thought such horrors were possible
in the modern world. The nation always boasting
of its culture and its strength had used its strength
to commit abominations in the sight of the Lord; and
their Cesar took the Lord’s name in vain as a mantle
to his crimes. As the Lord liveth there must be judg-
ment on them for these infamies. Brenda went out
from the woman’s house with a bowed head and a
heavy heart; and found herself edged from the pave-
ment by a group of officers, swaggering towards her
SALT OF THE EARTH 277

with no idea of making room. Their voices were loud,
their laughter grated on her nerves. There was no
judgment on these devils. Hell was paramount and
the weak might go to the wall.

In a mood wrought of despondency and burning
wrath she went back to the flat to find Lothar waiting
for her with a scowling face.

“Where have you been?” he thundered.

“To see a child who was burnt and a woman who
was bayoneted at Louvain,” she said, standing up to
him because her anger gave her force.

“Damn Louvain! What is Louvain to you?” said
Lothar. “Go and pack your trunks.”

Brenda’s first thought and hope when he startled
her by saying this, was of a German defeat and evac-
uation of Brussels. She laughed in his face because
she was still thinking of the woman she had just seen
and of Louvain. ‘Are you driven back?” she said.
“Are the French and English coming?”

She thought he would strike her and moved back
involuntarily; but not far. So they stood facing each
other, he furiously angry and she flouting him because
he had been at Louvain and had those weals on his
face. If he struck her or killed her she would not
suffer as those women of Louvain had from such men
as this.

“What's the matter with you?” he said, watching
her face.

“T’ve been hearing about Louvain from a woman
who was there; and you were there.”

“Of course I was there,”

“Everywhere women and children have been mur-
dered as they were at Cawnpore—no, worse than
‘there, for they have been tortured. The English have
never forgotten Cawnpore.”

“Damn the English!’

“Perhaps you will be dead when it is all over. But
for those of you who are not dead it will be a horrible
278 SALT OF THE EARTH

world because we shall all remember. You will be
unclean.”

“What do you suppose the top dog cares about the
under dog’s grievances?’ jeered Lothar. “Go and
pack a small trunk. I can’t do with you here any
longer, I’m going to risk it and take you to Eng-
land.”

“To England!” Brenda’s heart leaped with hope
and thankfulness.

“On one condition, and remember that my life
depends on it. But perhaps as I’ve been in Louvain
my life isn’t safe in your hands,” and he caricatured
her voice of horror when she had spoken of Louvain.

’ “What is the condition?”

“That you hold your tongue. I shall be in mufti
and we shall travel as Americans.”

“But how can you?”

“No questions. Either you come to England with
me to-night or you go to an internment camp in Berlin.
I can’t stand the sight of you. Besides, I may have a
mission anywhere and Jutta doesn’t want you. When
the war is over we can rearrange things. If old Prass-
ler is killed you can divorce me. You've only an hour
to pack up,”
XXV

HEY crossed from Ostend to Dover. As long
as German soldiers and officials stopped them
Lothar showed German papers. When they got

amongst the Belgians Lothar had two passports that
seemed to satisfy every one. He refused to show
them to Brenda, who, as the night went on, was begin-
ning to recover from the daze and flurry of their
sudden departure. The little Belgian maid had wept
bitterly when she saw Brenda pack her trunk, and
had wanted to go with her to England. So Brenda
gave her money enough for her journey, and told
her to come if she liked and could get permission
to leave. It was impossible to wait for her or to
propose taking her. Lothar was not in an amiable
mood. He hardly spoke to Brenda as they traveled,
and though he watched her closely he paid no atten-
tion to her’ comfort.

“Is it safe for you to go to England?” she asked
him when they were by themselves for a short time in
a first-class compartment.

“Why not? Unless you betray me?”

“T shall not do that; but you don’t look Ameri-
can.”

“What do I look in your opinion?”

“German.”

It was very odd and puzzling, thought Brenda.
After living a whole year in Germany she could not
explain it. Although all Germans would assure you

279
280 SALT OF THE EARTH

that they were the salt of the earth she had never
met one yet who liked to hear that he was a recog-
nizable German. She ought not to have irritated
Lothar in this way she knew, but there was something
so inexplicable in their blend of national conceit and
want of national dignity that she always felt inclined
to probe it. Lothar turned as red as beetroot and
glared at her when she said he looked German, but .
she really thought that to land in Dover in those
clothes would endanger him. She did not quite know
what it was that marked them. They were sober in
color and cheap looking. So was his dark-brown
squash hat. Yet she saw the German in those clothes
as plainly as she had often seen German lettering
spell English words on goods made in Germany.

“T should not be afraid to travel by myself from
Ostend,” she went on. “Have you taken our tickets
to London?” =~

He did not answer her; but she perceived that he
was annoyed by her solicitude and by her questions.
Her thoughts became busier than before with the
reasons for his journey and the problem of his re-
ception in London. Would he expect to stay with her
parents and would they shelter an alien enemy? and
could he break their bread now that he had told Brenda
outright of his unfaithfulness? She was going home
a broken woman, whose husband hated the sight of
her. He wanted a divorce. She would have to
tell her father and mother these things, she supposed,’
and give them great pain: or could she await the |
fortunes of war and see if time brought changes?’
As the Germans made war no one knew who would
live or die, for they made war on women and chil-
dren as ruthlessly as on armed men. They would
burn London to ashes if they could and every
one in it. 1

“I shall have to speak to my parents of our own
affairs,” she said suddenly. “We had better come
SALT OF THE EARTH 281

to an understanding about that, Lothar, if you are
coming home with me.’

“T am not coming home with you,” he said; “do
you take me for a fool? If I could trust your parents
I couldn’t trust the servants.”

Again Brenda wondered why in that case he insisted
on going to England with her. It was impossible
to believe that any chivalrous care for her safety kept
him at her side. He showed positive antagonism and
dislike whenever he spoke to her, and she knew that
when he had said he hated the sight of her he had
told the brutal truth. Woman-like she blamed the
other woman. Jutta had not been content to win
him from her and leave in him some measure of
regard for his wife. She had never ceased to work
on his patriotism and infect, him with her own beast
of prey propensities; he was to feel neither regret
nor shame in his repudiation of an Englishwoman.
Henceforward life together would be ridiculous and
irksome. In spite of her apparent gentleness Brenda
had not proved malleable under the German hammer.
So away with her, out of German eyes.

But because she had not proved malleable and
because she took some blame to herself for the failure
of their marriage she felt the tragedy of it without
bitterness. If she had loved Lothar from the depths
of her heart perhaps she could have kept his heart...
she stopped short in her musings: and she looked at
the man opposite to her with whom she had lived in
married intimacy and from whom she was to part ina
few hours. She had been his wife, but she had never
found his heart and she had never really suited him.
She could not make the appeal to his senses that Jutta
did, and she could not settle down to the position of
household drudge and foil to Jutta. Besides, hence-
forward, she could never forget for a single moment
that he had been at Louvain. What part he had
played, where exactly he had been before he reached
282 SALT OF THE EARTH

Louvain she dared not ask, and would probably never
know. But the fires that had burned that night and
the deeds that had been done must separate them
forever.

The boat was crowded to danger point with Belgians
and some English. Brenda spent the night on deck
wide awake and all eyes and ears. Here were people
who had seen what she only knew by hearsay, and who
counted themselves lucky to have escaped with their
lives. Some talked Flemish, and those she could not
understand; but she found herself next to some
women of the prosperous bourgeois class from Dinant,
who had got away a bare hour before the Boches
entered the little town and set it on fire and murdered
men, women and children there. The brother of one
and his family had all been victims; and in the hearing
of Lothar these women asked Brenda what could be
said of monsters who hacked ‘little children to pieces
and burned the dead and the living in a heap together.
Brenda expected an outburst from Lothar, a violent
justification or denial. But he sat woodenly in a
dark corner and did not speak. What could he have
said she thought? The excuse that was good enough
for Germans, for neutrals and for English cranks,
the empty lie about unarmed civilians in the last ex-
tremities of terror shooting at these conquering
hordes! Even Lothar could not thrust it down the
throats of women whose nearest and dearest had been
sacrificed. At any rate he sat there saying nothing,
moving hardly at all. His air was furtive, his usual
swagger had fallen from him, and when the officials
of the boat examined tickets and passports he
said what was necessary with a distinct American
twang.

Soon after the dawn broke and Dover cliffs were
in sight, Brenda, cramped and chilly, got up to look
at them. As they stood together in the dense crowd
behind the gangway Lothar took one of the passports
SALT OF THE EARTH 283

from an inside pocket and put it into her hands.

“T am not coming farther than this with you,” he
said. “Have you money enough for your ticket to
London?”

“Are you not going to London?” cried Brenda in
surprise.

“Never mind me. What money have you?”

Brenda had nothing but a little Belgian money
which she gave him in exchange for an English sov-
ereign. Then the press in front of them moved on a
little, she picked up her dressing-case and found her-
self pushed forward by the crowd behind. It was
all she could do to keep her feet and, when she got
to the steep slippery gangway, to shuffle herself, her
rug and her heavy dressing-case into safety on the
pier. Then she hustled with others towards the train
and wondered if Lothar was following her. More
than once she turned to look for him, but he had
vanished. They had said no kind of good-bye to
each other, and he had given her no idea of his plans
or his address. She found that her passport was
made out in her maiden name and signed by the
German authorities. She was described as a British
subject residing in Brussels, but returning home by
their permission. She had no difficulty with it at
Charing Cross, and by eight o’clock was in a taxi on
her way to St. John’s Wood. :

When she got there she walked straight into the
dining-room unannounced and found, as she expected,
that her father and mother had just sat down to
breakfast. She went quickly forward without speak-
ing, trying to smile but stupidly overcome and nearer
to tears than smiles.

“Brenda,” cried her mother, and then the tears
came.

“Have you had breakfast?” said her father when
he, too, had welcomed her with warmth that in some
measure showed her what their anxiety had been;
284. SALT OF THE EARTH

for since war broke out they had only received
one letter from her and that had told them little or
nothing.

“You only knew that you were coming last night
and Lothar brought you as far as Dover,” said Mr.
Miiller when the parlormaid had brought breakfast
things for Brenda and gone away again. “But how
could he get through . . . a German officer?”

“He traveled as an American and in mufti,” said
Brenda.

“How could he travel as an American?”

“He had a passport.”

“Has he gone straight back?”

“T don’t think so. He brought a suit-case. But
T lost sight of him at Dover.”

Mr. Miiller said no more just then, and Brenda
waited until after breakfast when she was alone with
her mother in her old room, which had not been in
any way changed since her marriage.

“You know I can never go back to him,” she said
then.

Mrs. Miller answered neither Yea nor Nay, but
showed distress. She had seen enough of Brenda’s
marriage in the spring to feel no surprise, but all
this summer she had hoped against hope that things
were going better with her child. Jem and Violet
had been able to tell her nothing that was new, and
Brenda’s long silence this autumn told her nothing.
The general catastrophe and Lothar’s probable depart-
ure for the field might have brought husband and
wife together in a way the paths of peace never could
have done. Mrs. Miiller was too shrewd a woman
to expect miracles, but yet she knew that they were
worked occasionally under great stress of emotion:
and she wanted one though she disliked Lothar.
Marriage in her opinion was a corner-stone in the
temple of life that nothing except death could dise«
lodge.
SALT OF THE EARTH 285,

“No one can look forward much,” she said. ‘No
one knows what will happen. Have you had our
letters?”

“T have heard nothing for weeks, and I have seen
no English paper except a stale copy of “The Times’
that I gave twenty francs for in Brussels.”

Brenda stood at the window, looking at the garden,
she used to tend. It was a golden autumn morning,
and the sun was shining into the pleasant peaceful
room. Her mother had sat down near the toilet-table
and was sticking pins into a pincushion. The bed
had been made while Brenda had breakfast, the fire
was lighted and hot water stood ready for her on the
washstand. It might have been any day before her
marriage when she had returned from a visit or a
journey, and found her room comfortably ready for
her and her mother waiting to hear all'she had to tell.
But the resemblance was only in external things. The
girl had come back a woman with sorrow in her souk
and a sense of failure. She had a great deal to tell
but found it difficult to begin, so she put her own
affairs aside for the time and asked her mother for the
home news she had not received in letters.

Jem had a commission in a Terrier regiment she
found and so had Andrew Lovel. Their training with
the O. T. C. had been of service to them and they
had been taken at once. They were together at Col-
chester and sometimes came home for week-ends.
Jack Wilmot had been in the retreat from Mons and
was still in France. Thekla was doing Red Cross
work and Violet was occupied with Belgian refugees. .
So was Mrs. Miiller. Mundy was still in Egypt. So
the tale went on: a roll of enlistment or of work
that seemed to include every one Brenda had ever
known in England. This did not sound like the
national decadence discovered and prophesied by
England’s enemies; and she asked whether people’
had been greatly roused by the German cruelties in
286 SALT OF THE EARTH

Belgium, for that had become her touchstone. She
had been too near the butchers and the victim to re-
main unmoved, and henceforward any one who turned
a deaf ear to that black recital stood dishonored in
her eyes: a thing insensitive and smug, turning its
back on an agony it did not feel and for its own
comfort would not contemplate.

Violet’s father was inclined to whitewash the Ger-
mans, said Mrs. Miller, and then she owned that at
first her husband and she had found it difficult to
believe that men of their own blood had done these ©
things. But every day the evidence was mounting
up against them. What had come to Germany?

It was beyond Brenda to answer that question at
that date. She knew that German people were docile
in politics and, in spite of a model educational system,
uncivilized socially; and she supposed that their lead-
ers were Gadarene swine possessed of an evil spirit
and rushing to destruction. At least she hoped they
were going to be destroyed when the rest of the
world had made ready.

“T can tell you what August says,” she answered
in reply to her father’s questions that evening. “And
if you know that, I think you know average opinion
over there. He says that in the midst of peace Ger-
many has been attacked by a treacherous coalition,
with England as chief conspirator; but he is positive
of victory because he was ready while his contemptible
and decadent enemies were not. He says that the
German soldiers are the most humane in the world,
but that the Belgian populace deserved to be slaught-
ered because it did not consent to be invaded; and
that even the cats and dogs of Germany will fight
rather than allow the sacred soil of the Fatherland
to be polluted by the heel of the foreigner. Also
England possesses everything worth having in the
world and is making war on Germany out of greed
and jealousy. Her downfall is certain because her
SALT OF THE EARTH 287

men are too selfish and cowardly to fight. The blacks
and other mercenaries she sends into the field .. .
, but you know the kind of stuff. You read it every
day in ravings from Hamburg and Berlin. They have
brains I can’t understand; stuffed with information
but empty of all sense. They believe in the same
minute that our Navy is frightened of theirs and
hiding; and that it is starving German women and
children by its blockade. I’ve seen both things said
in one paper on one day. Are you going to call your-
self Miller in future, Dad?”

“Certainly not,” said Mr. Miller. He had two sons
and a son-in-law in the forces; and if before the war
he could have hesitated between the country of his
fathers and the country of his children he had no
hesitations now. England had many devoted sons
with foreign names. The lists of men giving life and
limb for her showed it. He looked surprised when
Brenda asked him if they had suffered no inconven-
ience from their nationality or seen no alteration in
their English friends: and then he listened with grow-
ing amazement to her stories of what she had heard
and endured in Berlin. He had read of such things in
the papers, he said, but he only half believed them.
She told them of insults she had received from com-
mon folk in the streets; of August’s lecture when an
audience of the better class had threatened her; of
sitting next to a woman in a restaurant who spit into
her cup of coffee, and of the ghoulish joy shown
everywhere in the abuse of wounded prisoners and in
the slaughter of civilians by land and sea. She told
them of her life in Brussels—of the conquerors’ riot-
ing and stealing in rich men’s houses there, of the
public and private oppression, and of the heritage the
Boches were preparing for themselves in the memory
of those victims who survived their fury. All the
evening she sat with her father and mother in the old
way and talked to them, Mr. Miiller asked her no
288 SALT OF THE EARTH

questions about her own affairs. He saw that she
looked overwrought and white and thin; and he
guessed that she would not have left her husband
unless there had been some difficulty between them.
When he was alone with his wife he asked her what
had happened, and as far as she knew she told him.
Lothar was living openly with another woman and had
informed Brenda that after the war he wanted a
divorce. He had compelled his wife to spend a fort-
night under the same roof as his mistress, and in
every way had treated her outrageously. She had
told her mother that she could never go back to him.

“I wish she had never married him,” finished Mrs.
Miiller.

“What’s he doing in Dover?” said Mr. Miller.
“T believe I ought to inform the authorities. What’s
a German officer in mufti doing in Dover? with a
forged passport.”

“But Gustav, whatever he is Brenda has married
him,” said Mrs. Miller. “I cannot bring myself to
see a child of mine divorced. Perhaps after the war
some arrangement could be made. If he would give
up this woman and you saw that Brenda had control
of her own money.”

“T always sent it straight to her.”

. “She has never had it. Siegmund Abel gave her a
little for her journey to Brussels.”

“T’m glad she is safely here,” said Mr. Miller.

“For the present: but what of the future?” asked
his wife. “Of course I told Brenda not to look for-
ward, but I can’t help being anxious myself. I have
a great horror of divorce.”

“Then you must hope for a bullet,” said Mr. Miller
inhumanely. “It seems to be one or the other. Any-
how, as long as we live Brenda can have a home with
us.”

“But what are we to say about her husband?”
“Nothing,” said Mr. Miller and fell asleep.
XXV

ORE than a year had passed since Brenda left
Brussels, but the joy of being in England
was still fresh. She felt as if she was living

amongst civilized people again after spending a year
amongst hostile savages; and she felt this in spite of
knowing that Elsa was a better linguist than Violet,
that August was as learned as he was pedantic, and
that Lothar was certainly a better-trained soldier than
Andrew Lovel or Jem.

When she had arrived last autumn straight from a
rejoicing and triumphant Germany it had puzzled her
to find England rejoicing and triumphant too. She
heard people talk of the German Army as if it was
virtually a beaten one, and as if Belgium would be
evacuated before the end of the year: and as she
looked back she saw the gradual change in the nation
from facile optimism to a more intelligent understand-
ing of the task before them. There were other changes
too. At first she had met people who, because they
had met honorable Germans in private life believed
that the German Army must behave honorably, and
turned a deaf ear to the stories of cruelty in Belgium.
Some of these people she considered both stupid
and callous, inasmuch as they had neither eyes nor
heart for vicarious suffering. When she heard and
read of the things that had been done in the Bel-
gian villages she could not understand why the whole
human race did not rise against the monsters who had
glutted their lust there, and sweep them from power.

289
290 SALT OF THE EARTH

But always, behind them, she saw some of the kindly
honest Germans she had known and liked; Siegmund
Abel for instance, the wife of Lothar’s colonel, the
little fair-haired lieutenant at Mannheim, her own
grandmother and great-grandmother, her own parents;
and always the insoluble problem troubled her of a
nation with so much good in it descending to these
depths of infamy. She could never join in the cry
for reprisals. In her opinion it was unworthy and
inconsequent to call for outrages that put the men
who commit them outside the human pale. Whoever
is cruel is damned: whether he takes the initiative or
takes revenge. But that any one could watch Ger-
many at war without wrath and abiding contempt was
inconceivable.

What were those divines made of who preached to
the English not to hate their enemies? To the Eng-
lish, whose imperturbable good-humor and tolerance
made most people rub their eyes. When at last they
were partly roused, when undefended Yorkshire
towns were bombarded, when the drowning of the
fourteen hundred men, women and children on the
“Lusitania” was celebrated with rejoicings in German
schools, when fighting men died in agonies from
poisoned gas, when the Canadians were found crucified
and Edith Cavell was executed in cold blood, even
then Brenda did not see anything in England on a
par with the frenzy of the Hymn of Hate. The
English said as the Tommy did when he landed at
Boulogne in the first week of war: “That there
Kaiser has got to be stopped.” But they were not
going to slop over into hate or use silly shibboleths
to remind each other of what was to be done. The
Strafers must be stopped, and they were not going to
be easily stopped. That grew plainer day by day.
Brenda never met any one who doubted the ultimate
issue or who was unwilling to make the sacrifices
necessary.. At any rate her own class was shouldering
SALT OF THE EARTH 291

the burden, and while the politicians and the press
scolded the nation because it was sleepy and extrava-
gant, it seemed to her that nearly every man, woman
and child in the nation was trying to do its duty.
Therefore the rebukes publicly administered by poli-
ticians, journalists and the pulpit chiefly affected
people in foreign countries, both friendly and hostile:
so that an eminent Dutchman asked to draw a picture
of London in war-time drew one of young men and
women dancing! Perhaps he drew what he had seen.
If so his experience was unlike Brenda’s, who wore
mourning because her elder brother had been killed at
Gallipoli and her brother-in-law, Major Wilmot, at
Ypres, and who knew of some heart broken and some
life cut short in nearly every household, rich and poor,
that opened its doors to her. She saw her father and
mother aged by grief and anxiety for their sons; she
tried to comfort Thekla in her widowhood; she hardly
dared to speak of Jem to Violet, who took the separa-
tion hard and went white when she saw a telegram.
Everywhere she met people sorrowing, nursing their
sick or anxiously waiting; and even when she saw a
crowd at the doors of a cinema she did not jump to a
foregone conclusion that none of them were hit by the
war. She agreed with the mother who said her boy
home on leave from the trenches should have a bath
of champagne if he wanted it, and she perceived that
wherever there was feasting in England now it was
for the fighting men: some of them such children.
Brenda used to look at them rather wistfully and
wonder what chance they would have in battle against
mature, powerfully-built men like Major Prassler and
Lothar.

In October Jem came over on leave for a week and
brought news of Major, now Colonel Lovel, and of
Andrew. They were near Loos and were sometimes
in billets, sometimes in trenches taken from the Ger-
mans in September. Jem was in excellent spirits
292 SALT OF THE EARTH

and made light of the discomforts of life out there.
He cheered them all up at home, laughed at the
alarmist press, instructed them in the uses of the
British Navy, and charged them not to believe the
grousers who brought back stories of muddles and in-
capacity in the higher command. Mr. Lovel came
up from Cornwall on purpose to see him, and hear all
he could about his brother and Andrew. His chief.
anxiety seemed to be that his brother and Andrew
should not hate their enemies, and like the rest of his
tribe he could not distinguish between the hatred of
sin that ennobles and the hatred of the other man
that debases. He was the slave of words and phrases;
and he exasperated Brenda by talking about the Ger-
mans with the dogmatism bred of complete ignorance.
He saw everything from their point of view, and
when a submarine torpedoed a hospital ship dwelt
on the courage required by a submarine crew. Brenda
wondered if he would admire the commander of an
airship that dropped a bomb on his rectory. She
wondered also how his brother and Andrew would
bear with him when they came back to his sophistries -
from the realities of war. However, he only stayed
two days, and before he left gave Brenda a warm
invitation to visit them again in Cornwall. He told her
that at Treva she need not remember that there was
a war. She looked at him in amazement and won-
dered whether his wife did not find such serene
detachment trying; but she promised to go to Treva
in time for the daffodils next spring.

When Jem left for the front again his parents and
Brenda as well as Violet went to Waterloo to see him
off; but Brenda was on duty from three to nine at a
canteen that night and so arrived at the station by
herself. She did not know it well and began by. driv-
ing to the wrong entrance. Then she found herself
near the Loop platforms under the clock and in a dense
crowd of people coming from suburban trains or
SALT OF THE EARTH 293

waiting for them. She made her way through this
crowd towards an official taking tickets at one of the
gates with the intention of asking him about the troop
train to Southampton, but as she was before her time
she did not hurry. She looked, as every one else in
England was looking then, at the younger men in the
crowd, wondering which of them ought to be in khaki
and which had good reason to be here; and as she
looked she saw a tall figure and a dark long coat of
foreign cut that were both familiar. London, to .be
sure, was full of foreigners. Wherever you went you
heard French and Flemish spoken. But above the
collar of this coat she saw a German neck, bull-like,
and red. The shoulders, too, had a military set.
Brenda was hindered by the press of people just here,
but managed soon to get on a little way and look at
the profile of this man, who stood a head and shoulders
above his neighbors. It was Lothar.

Her first thought was that he had just arrived and
wanted to see her. She did not stop to reason why,
but got a little closer to him with every shift of the
crowd, and at last came close enough to touch his
elbow. He looked round hastily, saw Brenda, saw
her with recognition, received a disagreeable shock,
pulled himself together, and as if she were a stranger,
turned his head away. At the moment Brenda did
not grasp what he was after. She had seen that he
knew her, and that the sudden sight of her was hate-

* ful to him; so her impulse was to leave him. But
why was he in England again, when had he come,
when would he go away? She stood there unde-
cidedly, then followed him to the gate of the nearest
platform, where he gave up a ticket. She was asked
for hers and had none.

“IT am seeing this gentleman off,” she said audibly,
and the ticket collector let her through. Lothar took
no notice of her, and walked along the train so quickly
that if he had not been tall she would probably have
204 SALT OF THE EARTH

missed him; for the platform was rather crowded.
But she ran him to earth in a third-class carriage,
full up with people, and then she perceived. that he
did not mean to recognize her. He sat in a far corner
and stared out of his own window, refusing to meet
her eyes. Brenda was just going away when a move-
ment within the carriage made her change her mind.
A woman sitting next to Lothar got out, so Brenda
on a sudden impulse got in, sat down and spoke to
him.

“Why are you in England, Lothar?” she said in
a low voice, as she studied his face curiously, as sure
of his identity as of her own, but dismayed by the
stony hardness in his eyes and the fury in his voice
when he answered her, aloud, so every one else in the
carriage could hear him.

“T do not know why you have followed me,” he
said, “you are making a mistake. I am an American.”

Brenda got up, hot with humiliation and uncertain
what to do. Perhaps she ought to have denounced
him then and there, given him up to the police and
confronted his denials and his forged papers with
her evidence of his identity. If she could have felt
sure that he was dangerous she thought later that
she would have done so. But at any rate she did
not. She fled from the stares of the people traveling
with Lothar, arrived on the platform for Southampton
in a state of distressed agitation, found Jem sur-
rounded by a little group of friends and blurted out ©
what had just happened.

“Lothar is in England again,” she cried. “I have
seen him and spoken to him. He pretended not to
know me.”

“He pretended not to know you!” echoed Mr.
Miler incredulously.

No one else paid attention to what she said, for her
encounter with Lothar had delayed her, and she had
only arrived just in time to bid Jem good-bye. He
SALT OF THE EARTH 2905

kissed his mother and her and then his wife. The
guard whistled, the train began to move, the men
looking out of the window and those they left behind
exchanged last glances and last words. Violet cried
quietly and bitterly. The air seemed heavy with
sorrow and farewells, and to come out of the station
into the ordinary traffic of York Road was like leaving
a solemn celebration for a market-place. Mrs. Miiller
tried to persuade Violet to go back to St. John’s Wood
with them for the night, but she said that she would
rather go straight home. The Miillers had lent their
car and their chauffeur to the Red Cross, so they put
Violet into a taxi and returned with Brenda by tube.
When they reached Piccadilly Circus the station was
seen to be packed with people, who stormed into the
carriages, some of them cool, some terror-stricken,
some looking as if they had been exhilarated but were
not in the least afraid. From one to the other the
word went that the Zeppelins were over London, and
had blown up Liverpool Street station, killing people
horribly and in great numbers. Close to Brenda were
some girls she judged to be from a chorus or a ballet,
for their faces were still made up and yet ashen with
fright, their clothes were huddled on anyhow and two
of them were crying hysterically. The carriage was
so packed that it was not easy to move, but Brenda
managed to get one girl, who was trembling violently,
into her own seat, and then the others told her as
well as they could what had happened. There had
been a deafening crash followed by the sound of guns,
and then again the crash of bombs. The girls had
rushed from the stage, the curtain had been let down,
the performance had ended there and then. But
there had been no further panic either in front of
the curtain or behind it. The manager had made a
little speech informing the audience that an air raid
was going on and that they had better stay where
they were, the lights were kept burning, every one
296 SALT OF THE EARTH

attended to his business and the theater was quietly
cleared. Even the girls who were still crying with
fright said that they meant to go back to-morrow.
The others were talking of some “fellows” who had
not joined yet. They should now or the girls would
know the reason why. “A lot o’ . . . murderers,”
growled a navvy near them—“I’m going to-morrer.”
On every face, on all lips there was implacable cold
anger not to be assuaged while living generations
remembered and had blood in their veins.

When the Miillers got above ground again every-
thing was in darkness, but they groped their way
home and found the maids at the front door in various
stages of undress and greatly excited. They had seen
a Zeppelin and the glow in the sky from the bursting
_ shrapnel fired at it, and they had heard the anti-air-
craft guns in the distance. They seemed rather dis-
appointed when they were told that London was not
burning in every quarter, and decidedly annoyed when
they were told that the raid was over and they could
go to bed. “I shall certainly sleep in my boots,” the
kitchenmaid was heard to say as she followed the
cook.

The Millers felt anxious about Violet, but decided
that nothing could or need be done for her that night
as all the reports they had heard on the way here were
of damage in the city and in distant ‘suburbs. Mrs.
Miller said that next day she meant to do her best
to persuade Violet to take the children to Cornwall till
the war was over. Brenda said nothing, but felt sure
that Violet would not want to go so far in case she
was suddenly called to France.

“What is this about your seeing Lothar?” asked
Mr. Miiller, as if- he had just remembered his
daughter’s story; and Brenda told him again that she
had seen Lothar in mufti at Waterloo and that he had
pretended not to know her. ,

“You are quite sure, I suppose?”
SALT OF THE EARTH 297

“Gustav!’’ cried Mrs. Miller. “How is it possible
for a wife not to know her husband ?”

“There have been cases. There was one quite lately
in the papers.”

“Papers will say anything,” opined Mrs. Miiller.
“If a woman told me she did not know her own hus-
band, I should know she was either a fool or a liar.
Brenda is neither.”

“But what is he doing in England?” asked Mr.
Miiller, and he went to bed still asking himself a ques-
tion neither his wife nor his daughter had tried to
answer. But they were asking it of themselves un-
easily and with suspicion. What was Lothar doing
at large in England and why had he refused to recog-
nize Brenda? All through the following day the
two women brooded over Brenda’s encounter with her
husband and failed to find any innocent reason for
his presence in London; but they did not open their
minds to each other, partly because Violet was with
them most of the day. She came to tell them that
she was sending her children to Cornwall. In last
night’s raid some children had been killed outright
and some burned and mutilated. She would not let
her children run the risk any longer, but she would
not go with them. As Brenda expected she wanted
to remain in London because it was nearer to Jem.
So it was settled that Jem’s house should be shut up
at present and Violet be with the Miillers.

“I shall like it,” she said, “the evenings are so
lonely.”

“Were you much frightened last night?” asked Mrs.
Miller.

“No,” Violet said. She had not been much fright-
ened, though she had seen a Zeppelin apparently right
over the house. She had not even waked the children
and carried them into the cellar as her neighbors had
done. The chances were so enormously against any
one house being hit that it seemed best to take them
298 SALT OF THE EARTH

without unnecessary worry. Jem was probably in
greater danger morning, noon and night.

“We shall hear what has really happened in the
city when father comes home,” said Brenda, and di-
rectly they heard his key in the latch the three women
went into the hall to meet him. He looked preoccupied
and unusually grave; and after giving them the
information they sought about the damage done in
the city, he made a sign to his wife to come with
him and took her upstairs to their own room.

“I am not going to tell Brenda,” he said, “it would
only distress her and there may be no need. I have
been to Scotland Yard.”

“About Lothar?”

“Yes. How do we know what mischief he is in?
It was my duty. You see it, Marie, don’t you?”

“What did you say?”

“T gave his real name and status in the German
Army and a description of him; and I told them that
he was probably traveling as an American with a
forged or stolen passport.”

“Tf they find him they will shoot him,” said Mrs.
Miller dully.

“Not unless he deserves it,” said her husband.
XXVII

HE days succeeding the raid were busy ones,
for Violet kept to her plan of sending the chil-
dren to Cornwall, and Brenda spent most of her

time at the house helping her to make the necessary
arrangements and pack up. One morning, to her
surprise, Brenda received a long letter from Siegmund
Abel, which had come by way of New York and gave
her news of people in Berlin. It was the first time
she had heard from any one there since she had left
. Brussels, and she had often wondered how the family
was getting on, what August was saying now, and
whether they were all nearly starving or living in the
lap of luxury. If you read what well-informed neu-
trals said in various English papers, you could believe
either extreme according to your bias. Brenda had no
bias except towards the truth whichever way it lay,
and in some respects Siegmund’s letter was illuminat-
ing. He hardly spoke of the war. That was not to be
expected perhaps since he was writing to England.
But he told her that life was very expensive now, and
that amongst the poor there was great suffering.
Papa and Mamma were both well, but extremely
anxious about Lothar, who had not written for more
than six weeks. They knew that he was not in Brus-
sels because the beautiful Jutta, who was now a
widow, had come back to Berlin and said so. In fact
she had informed Elsa that Lothar was away on Gov-
ernment service, but he had not told even her where he

299
300 SALT OF THE EARTH

was going or what-he had to do. He had left suddenly,
and had not written since he left, so that she, too,
did not know whether he was dead or alive. If Brenda
knew anything of Lothar’s whereabouts Siegmund
begged her to write at once and relieve his parents’
anxiety. If she sent her letter to an address he gave
in Holland it would be safely forwarded. The rest
of the family were well and August was giving a
course of popular lectures on England as a World-
Power, her Crimes and her Downfall. He had told
Siegmund that he meant to spend the money he got by
the lectures on going to London in time to watch the
triumphant march of Hindenburg and the German
troops through the accursed city, and he wished he
could fix the date and know whether he would require
summer or winter clothing. He had shown consider-
able annoyance when Siegmund had observed that it
would be time to choose the clothes when the English
Navy was beaten, and had said that he took any such
allusion to that cowardly arm as an affront to the
Fatherland and himself. Berlin and Hamburg were the
best informed as they were the most refined cities in
the world, and they knew that the abominable British
Navy was hiding and afraid to come out. It was
abominable because it was lending itself to the starva-
tion of German women and children, who, however,
were not starving at all, but, thanks to the matchless
foresight and organization of their rulers, were living
on the fat of their own all-that-is-necessary-to-life-
producing land. The lectures were extremely popular,
Siegmund said, and he thought that it was because
August did not write them but just talked to his
audience in his own vein, and always told them that
they were victorious. Mina was as usual overworked,
but contented with her fate; and Elsa was a proud
woman because she had invented a winter game that
‘was going to be as popular as knocking nails into
Hindenburg’s statue had been all the summer. She
SALT OF THE EARTH 301

had had a large wax figure of Sir Edward Grey made,
and every one was going to knock nails into that, at a
price of course. Elsa thought that it would be a.
more agreeable sensation to drive a nail into the traitor
Grey than into their adored and invincible Field
Marshal, and moreover wax would melt. When the
company had tired of nails it should have lighted ves-
tas, and burn their enemy as witches used to burn
a rival. Siegmund hoped there would be no acci-
dents, and meant to have some pails of water at.
hand.

“He is laughing at them all,” said Mrs, Miller
when she read the letter.

“He always did,” said Brenda. “He was ironical
and sad and clever. They called him ‘The Jew,’ and.
did not understand him a bit. But what am I to write:
about J.othar?”

“Perhaps they would be glad to hear that you had
seen him alive and well, even if you could say nothing’
else,” suggested Mrs. Miller; so Brenda wrote to-
Siegmund at once and told him that she had seen.
Lothar lately, but that he had not spoken to her.
She did not say that he had pretended not to recognize
her. But she did tell Siegmund that she was not likely
to return to Berlin after the war, and that Lothar
wished for a divorce, She knew that his parents
would be as averse from such a scandal as her own
mother was, and considering the uncertainties of war
she half wished, after she had sent the letter, that she.
had left these things unsaid. Perhaps she had been}
indiscreet, but the picture of Jutta, a widow and well
received by Lothar’s family, had roused Brenda and
angered her. Jutta was an immoral woman and Lo-.
thar’s people, who considered their morals exemplary,
received her. They had cast off Brenda and opened:
their arms to Jutta, and yet Brenda knew they would.
not wish Lothar to appear in a divorce court. They
would wish her to return to Berlin when English.
302 SALT OF THE EARTH

‘people were no longer dangerous and assist them to
over up a scandal. That Brenda was determined not
to do.

Violet took the children to Cornwall herself, but
only stayed in her old home a day or two, and then
returned for an indefinite time to the Avenue Road.
Brenda liked having her. Their schoolgirl friendship
had grown into a deep affection into which life had
woven various threads. Sometimes Violet reminded
Brenda strongly of Andrew, sometimes she saw little
‘resemblance between them; but their thoughts and
thopes and fears were bound up with him and with
Jem. They sat together a good deal in Brenda’s
‘room, and they worked together at garments for the
‘troops. In time Violet heard a good deal more than
she had known before about Brenda’s marriage and
about her miserable time in Brussels. At least she
‘heard of events and entertainments and little adven-
tures. Of what lay underneath, of all Brenda had felt
vand suffered and of Lothar’s unfaithfulness she heard
nothing. Brenda’s nature was not secretive, but
‘throughout her married life she had undergone humil-
jations of which she could not speak. When she heard
and read of what the German soldiery were doing in
the homes they desecrated she thought that though
‘her body had not been pierced by bayonets she knew
“both in body and soul what it meant to be the victim
of coarse unscrupulous brutality: and when she read
extracts from German papers impudently denying and
defending the Belgian massacres she thought that the
pressmen who wrote the articles must be blood brothers
of the beautiful Jutta, who had gone with a pleasure
party to Louvain and shrugged her shoulders over
‘the wanton slaughter of the innocent, saying, “This
as war!”

It came like a break in the quiet life they were lead-
ring when one day towards the middle of October
Violet received an invitation by post to dine and go
SALT OF THE EARTH 303

to the theater with some Cornish friends who were.
spending a week in London. At first Violet was:
inclined to refuse. Suppose a telegram came while
she was away? As Jem was known to be out of
action and resting just then she was not allowed to
, Suppose anything that would interfere with her even-
ing’s pleasure, and she departed cheerfully in a taxi,
looking so pretty that Brenda wished Jem had been
there to see her. She herself spent most of the evening
at the piano playing Beethoven to her father and
finding that her spirit was uplifted and soothed by
his harmonies; for the cry raised in some quarters.
against German music and poetry seemed to her un-
speakably mean and silly, worthy of August but not
of the English who were all to rise to their country’s.
greatness and be paladins. The message of the
Appassionata had not changed and every line of Faust.
reached heights .

It ail happened in a moment before the chord or.
which her fingers rested could be finished. The crash.
of bombs, the answering guns, the startled cry from
her mother and the irruption into the room of scared:
servants, crying that the Zeppelins were right over the
house and that every one was going to be murdered,
Mr. Miller’s voice quieting them, their helter-skelter
tush to the cellar and Brenda left with her parents.
to put lights out before they dared to look and
listen.

“They may have passed over the house, but they
are a long way off now,” said Mr. Miiller, for there
was nothing to be seen from the front door but a
special constable valiantly swarming up a lamp-post.
opposite the house in order to put out the light.

“They may come back this way,” said Mrs. Miiller.

“I wonder where they are?” said Brenda, and she
ran across the road to ask the man now come to earth:
again if he could judge where the attack was being
made. They heard crash upon crash-as they stood
304, SALT OF THE EARTH

‘there, and the irregular splutter of guns. The sky
even out here was lighter with red flashes and Brenda
thought of Violet gone gayly into horror unimagin-
able. For the constable said that the death ships
were over the Strand.

More than an hour passed with sickening slowness,
only broken by shrieks from the kitchen when the
whirr of machinery passed over the road again about
half-past ten. Mrs. Miller with her usual calmness
went downstairs to reassure the scared servants and
“persuade them to go to bed. Brenda felt restless but
not afraid. Her own wish and impulse had been to
‘tush to the theater, find Violet and bring her away;
‘but her father would do no such thing, and presently

‘ she was glad that she had not gone, for Violet arrived,
rather white and shaken but uninjured.

“We stayed till the end,’ she said, “we've all
“behaved very well. The first bomb fell close to us
with the most horrible crash. The whole theater
‘rocked and the great central chandelier swung to and
fro. The chorus girls rushed off the stage and so did
every one else. The pit was just going to stampede;
I felt awful but I didn’t move. Colonel Godolphin
said to his wife and me ‘Sit still,’ and then he and
‘another officer got up and shouted to the people in
the pit for God’s sake to sit still, because they were
safer there than in the street. They managed to
calm them, and one little actor . . . I don’t know
his name but he was some brave .. . he came back
and danced a frantic dance. That steadied every one,
and gradually the other actors came back and played
to the finish. And all the while we could hear the
guns and those horrible bombs, and when we got into
the street the pavements were inches thick in broken
glass. We saw ambulances carrying dead and
wounded. A great many children have been hurt and
‘killed again, so I suppose the children in Germany will
‘have a holiday. Oh! and a German spy was caught
SALT OF THE EARTH 305

red-handed signaling from the roof of a warehouse in
the City.”

“Is it known yet what damage was done?” asked
Mr. Miller.

“We only heard people talking as we waited for a
taxi. They said that Wood Street was in flames,
and that a great many people were killed near Liver-
pool Street. Some were killed close to us too.”

Violet shuddered and hesitated.

“As we went to our taxi Colonel Godolphin kicked
a boot aside,” she said. “He started so violently that
I looked. There was a foot in it and blood.
That was the worst thing of all. I can’t forget
it.”

Brerda’s thoughts went back to the man she had
seen lying limp and crumpled in the German railway
carriage, and to the horrors committed in Belgium.
The people who were too fine and sensitive to hear of
what others had suffered always reminded her of Hos
spur’s knight with his pouncet box, and yet she had
heard stories she could not tell because the abomina-
tions of them, though it haunted her dreams, refused
to pass her lips. Was it best to put them out of her
mind as well as she could since she could neither mend
nor atone; or by remembering keep alive the just
wrath that demands penitence as the price of pardon?
She had a growing horror of those cranks always to
be found in England and America who want to treat
tigers as if they were doves and who exalt the butcher
but forget the victim.

“T can never go back to Germany,” she said to her
mother next day. “I can never live amongst people
who have done these things.”

Mrs. Miiller sighed and said that she was beginning
to think herself that henceforward no one with English
sympathies would be happy in Berlin. This was a.
considerable concession, and as, in spite of her hide-
bound opinions about marriage, she treated Brenda.
306 SALT OF THE EARTH

with unfailing affection and kindness there seemed no
reason to disturb her again by hinting at divorce.
In fact Brenda began to look forward to a prolonga-
tion of her present life and a separation from Lothar
that did not drag their marriage through the mire and
publicity of courts of law. She had not heard from
Berlin again. But one morning the post brought bad
news to Violet from Jem. Her uncle, Major Lovel,
had been killed instantaneously by a trench mortar
that exploded close to him. He was killed and Andrew
was wounded. Jem who had been with them five
minutes earlier had escaped. His letter describing the
circumstances of Major Lovel’s death and the ex-
tent of the damage done to Andrew was to be sent
or taken to Cornwall as Violet thought best. Jem
thought that Andrew might lose an arm but that
otherwise he had a good chance of recovery. At least
so the regimental doctor said. He was now in a
hospital at Rouen.

Major Lovel dead, Andrew seriously wounded and
Violet off to Cornwall at a moment’s notice to see
her parents and the children. From one hour to the
next you lived, not knowing in the morning what the
day would bring forth. Brenda’s thoughts and
anxieties were all in the hospital at Rouen as she
came back from Paddington after seeing Violet off,
and it was with presage of worse news from France
that she saw her father come out of the library when
he heard her voice in the hall on her return. It was
nearly lunch time, for on her way back she had been
to see some one in connection with her work at the
canteen. But her father had gone to the city after
breakfast as usual this morning. He never came
back to lunch. He looked . .. Oh! Brenda knew
that something terrible had happened the moment she
saw him, and there was no need for him to beckon to
her. As she saw him she was with him and inside the
room, Then she saw that her mother was there too
SALT OF THE EARTH 307

and that she looked as white as a sheet. Jem!
Andrew! She did not think of Lothar. Her eyes
searched for the fatal telegram and found none.
Neither letter nor telegram was there. Only her
father and mother visibly shaken and distressed. Her
mother was crying.

“Brenda, we have bad news,” her father said, and
she heard that he spoke with difficulty, as a man does
who has had a shock.

“Tt is Lothar,” said her mother quickly, watching
her child’s face.

“Lothar!”

“He was caught on the top of a hotel during the
last raid and taken to the Tower.”

“To the Tower!”

“He was tried by court-martial.”

Brenda had seen the paper that day. She knew
what was coming.

“He was shot this morning,” said her father.

Brenda did not faint or cry. She stood there look-
ing so stunned and horror-stricken that her parents
felt mcre alarmed than if she had fainted. She
hardly gave a sign of having understood them and
yet they knew that she did understand. Mr. Miiller
put her into a chair because she staggered slightly
and he feared she might fall, Then he went on
speaking.

“He gave the authorities a false name and address,”
he said. “He gave the name on his forged passport
describing him as an American. It was only this
morning that he wrote down my business address and
told them to communicate with us. They say that he
wrote two letters to Germany yesterday.”

“He sent me no message.”

“None whatever.”

“TI suppose there is no doubt,” said Brenda, whose
mind was trying to grope for possibilities amidst this
mew horror. “Are you sure that it was Lothar.”
308 SALT OF THE EARTH

“I went to the Tower,” said Mr. Miiller. “They
allowed me to see him.”

“How are we to tell his mother?” cried Brenda.
“She loved him.”

“He wrote to his mother,” said Mr. Miller. “He
wrote to her and to a Frau Prassler. The letters had
not been posted, and I saw the addresses. He died
cursing England,”
XXVIII

RENDA wrote to Berlin and in time she received
answers from Little Mamma and from Siegmund
Abel. Little Mamma’s letter was valedictory.
Without beating about the bush she said that she
never wished to see her daughter-in-law again. She
did not exactly hold her responsible for Lothar’s
death; in fact, she admitted that he had said in his
farewell letter that he had had a fair trial. What she
could not understand was that Mr. Miiller had not
used his influence, and if necessary his fortune, to
save his nephew’s life. It was well known in Germany
that in England anything could be got for money.
She understood that the Millers excused themselves
by saying that they had not even known of Lothar’s
arrest, but did not that show how indifferent his wife
was to his welfare? Why had: Brenda not been with
her husband in the hour of trial and danger. Little
Mamma’s idea of marriage was an exalted one, and
her grief over the loss of her beloved son was height-
. ened and embittered by every memory of his miserable
union. Brenda must pardon her for speaking plainly.
That was her German way. As for the furniture and
silver in Lothar’s flat, that would be sold for the
benefit of his family. It was useless for Brenda to
claim it now she had become an enemy alien.
“What is the law about that?” asked Brenda,
when she had shown her father the letter.
“The Germans are very high-handed. They con-
fiscate property in a way we don’t,” said Mr, Miiller.

309
310 SALT OF THE EARTH

“We can do nothing till after the war, and by that
time they will have sold everything.”

Brenda did not care. She thought with mild regret
of some things in Berlin that had been given her at
her marriage, and of music books and pictures that
had been her personal possessions throughout her life;
but what place did such losses take in these days of
widespread loss and mourning? What did books and
pictures matter while Thekla wept for Jack and
Mundy’s young widow arrived from Egypt with her
children, looking like the pale ghost of the girl he
had married a few yearsago. Brenda was busier than
she had ever been before, helping her sister and her
sister-in-law to begin life again in new surroundings;
for Thekla left Aldershot, and Mundy’s widow, who
had few relatives in England, settled down near her
husband’s family and became greatly attached to
them. It was good for Brenda to be occupied with
children and furniture for some months and to find
herself beloved and wanted in two small new house-
holds. The failure of her marriage and the tragedy
of Lothar’s death were fresh in her memory. Any one
could see that in her face and her sad eyes. But the
crowded business of each day kept her from brooding
and. she found great comfort in all she could do for
others. One day, quite unexpectedly, the little Belgian
from Brussels arrived and was installed with Thekla
as cook. She told Brenda that the beautiful Jutta
had had the whole contents of the flat packed in
furniture vans and sent to Berlin. She had then oc-
cupied another flat left empty by its owners, and had
lived there with Lothar until the end of last Septem-
ber, when she suddenly returned to Germany. Sieg-
mund Abel had not mentioned her when he wrote,
but at Christmas Brenda had a letter from Elsa who
said amongst other things that the beautiful Jutta was
about to marry again, although her husband had not
been dead a year. She had netted an Austrian Graf
SALT OF THE EARTH 311

this time, and gave herself insufferable airs; but every
one knew that her position in Viennese society would
be difficult because in Vienna birth and blood are
of extreme importance even after marriage. Jutta
might marry twenty counts and yet suffer from her
plebeian and Semitic descent.

Brenda thought that the joys and sorrows of the
beautifu’ Jutta need never trouble her again. They
were a long way from the house in the Avenue Road
and from Treva Rectory; and in February Brenda
went to Treva to see the early daffodils as she had
promised.

The spring had come to some warm corners -of
Cornwall earlier than usual, so early that as Mrs.
Lovel gathered her violets and primroses in January
she shook her head and said that winter longed to visit
them ayain. But it had not arrived with any hard-
ships when Brenda found herself on those enchanted
shores once more. Three and a half years had passed
since she had been at Treva, and most things had
changed as far as her way in life was concerned; but
when she had unpacked in the room she had occupied
before, she looked out of her window at the unchang-
ing, ever changing sea and sky and felt at peace with
the world. Sorrow itself became a consecrated thing
here, taking beauty as well as grief from its surround-
ings, There was sorrow in the Rectory and thankful-
ness too. The Rector grieved for his brother and both
he and his wife were still anxious about Andrew, who
had lost his left arm and as far as they knew was
still in hospital in Paris. They had been over to see
him when his recovery had been uncertain, and had
stayed till the crisis was past. But he had been
wounded in several places and his recovery was slow.
Still, lately, he had been well enough to write regu-
larly and no letter had come from him for a week.

“There will be a letter to-morrow,” the Rector said
at night, but next morning there was no letter. Brenda
312 SALT OF THE EARTH

wished they would telegraph to Paris, but when she
suggested it they said they would wait another twen-
ty-four hours. They did not want to harass the
hospital authorities or agitate him unnecessarily.
“He may be on his way home,” the Rector said,
and Brenda turned her head as he spoke because the
sudden suggestion, the thought of seeing him again
set up such a commotion in her heart that it beat
riotously and silenced her. She knew her eyes and

her face must be telling tales she desired not to tell |»

yet. .

The morning was so warm and fine that she took
Violet’s children down to the rocks and played with
them there, dabbling in the pools, finding sea anemones
and little crabs, fishing for elusive shrimps and gather-
ing delicious sprays of brown seaweed. No one could
think of winter here this morning, whatever the cal-
endar said. The sky was deep blue, the sea was still
and the sun shone so warmly that the water in these
shallow pools had not chilled the children’s hands.
On the cliffs the fields of early daffodils were in full
flower, the primroses were out in sheltered places,
and in the Rectory gardens the almonds and some
rhododendrons were out, too. When the children had
been fetched by their nurse to have their midday rest
Brenda sat down on a rough seat under the shelter of
the cliff and looked out to sea, her spirit comforted
and healed, her thoughts with the men who kept such
a paradise as this safe for her.

Under the lee of the little wood
I’m sitting in the sun;

What will be done in Flanders
Before the day be done?

Under my feet the springing blades
Are green as green can be;

It’s the bloody clay of Flanders
That keeps them green for me.
SALT OF THE EARTH 313

Above, beyond the larches,
The sky is very blue;

It’s the smoke of hell in Flanders
That leaves the-sun for you.

By nests in the blossoming elm-tree
The wise rooks rock on bough;
What blasts of hell, in Flanders,
Rive the bared branches now?

That was the truth of the matter as she saw it,
and so the little poem cut from a paper nearly a year
ago ran line upon line in her thoughts to-day. Her
safety and her joy in the world were bought at what
price of blood and suffering to others?

The gate out of the apple orchard opened and shut
again, she turned to see who could be approaching—
and saw Andrew, pale, worn, maimed .. . but coming
toward her with the look in his eyes that she knew.
All the sorrow and the suffering in the world passed
from her for one moment of supreme and incom-
municable joy. Whatever happened later, life had
given them this meeting, and the new sense of freedom
and the deep well of thankfulness that out of the
clutches of death he came back to her alive.

THE END