and to work late, Alfred would be much more restricted. And for two years, perhaps three, Alfred repays Lautner’s care and thoroughness; by the age of twenty-one Alfred will know every detail of the workshops and the sheds and the warehouses and will be gravely cognisant of the people who labour for him. In the meantime, he refuses to take more than an hour for lunch and he works so regularly himself that there are fewer opportunities for Lautner to visit the house on Sunday evenings, for coffee and for marzipan cake. And as Lautner sees Alfred succeeding beyond his expectations, he is almost disappointed at his own growing distance from the family. Therefore he makes it his business sometimes to go over to the house with a message or a reminder or even a suggestion. ‘You need not have bothered,’ says Alfred who dislikes the incursion of his everyday life into those blessed truces which are observed at the weekends. ‘It could have waited until tomorrow.’
It is therefore a terrible shock to Alfred’s very hard-won equilibrium to get home one evening and to find Sofka in a state of considerable agitation over Betty. This is doubly unsettling to Alfred; he has never seen Sofka in a comparable state over himself, and in any event he judges Betty to be unworthy of his mother’s care. As faras Alfred is concerned Betty is a futile and self-regarding girl and he begrudges her the money she has received on her eighteenth birthday. It now appears that, not content with her idleness and her money and her music lessons, Betty is to be allowed a long holiday in Switzerland at the family’s expense. Worst of all, Betty will have access to Nettie for she is to be sent to the same establishment at Clarins where mysterious things are done to make girls worldly, educated, and poised. Like many another man, Alfred views this process with concern. If anyone is to go to Switzerland, let it be his sister Mimi whose vagueness could do with a little tempering; even Alfred can see that. But Mimi is of all things his friend; Mimi, knowing of the six-volume edition of Shakespeare coveted by Alfred, presented it to him the moment her money came through to her. In this way Alfred has received the ideal gift; he could not have bought it himself because he has only his salary, and part of that goes into the household expenses. Their father, in his wisdom, decreed that the girls should have money and the boys shares in the business. So Alfred, burdened with adult cares, is more than a little shocked that Betty should benefit from so much of their mother’s concern.
However, he will be very glad to see the back of her. And of Frederick too, if the truth were known. He feels instinctively that Betty and Frederick form a natural pair, and that he and Mimi form another, quite different, alliance. Together and apart, Mimi and Alfred stand for those stolid and perhaps little regarded virtues of loyalty and fidelity and a scrupulous attention paid to the word or promise given or received. The house seems to him a friendlier place the moment Frederick and Betty are out of it, although he is a little hurt to see the extent of his mother’s grief, when only Mimi and himself are left. For the three days of their absence Alfred is happier than hehas been for some time; when he returns in the evening, it is to find a subdued and rather quiet Sofka, and to hear the strains of a Chopin
étude
drifting down from the old nursery without the interruption of Betty’s high voice or the slight moral exasperation afforded to him by Frederick’s ever good-humoured presence. And although Sofka looks preoccupied and somewhat sad, and although Mimi’s presence does little to cheer her up, Alfred finds that his mother clings to him in a way that makes him feel very strong, as if he is in a better position to care for her alone than with all the others put together. He finds this heartening, and something of a sop to his injured pride.
His position as head of the
It is therefore a terrible shock to Alfred’s very hard-won equilibrium to get home one evening and to find Sofka in a state of considerable agitation over Betty. This is doubly unsettling to Alfred; he has never seen Sofka in a comparable state over himself, and in any event he judges Betty to be unworthy of his mother’s care. As faras Alfred is concerned Betty is a futile and self-regarding girl and he begrudges her the money she has received on her eighteenth birthday. It now appears that, not content with her idleness and her money and her music lessons, Betty is to be allowed a long holiday in Switzerland at the family’s expense. Worst of all, Betty will have access to Nettie for she is to be sent to the same establishment at Clarins where mysterious things are done to make girls worldly, educated, and poised. Like many another man, Alfred views this process with concern. If anyone is to go to Switzerland, let it be his sister Mimi whose vagueness could do with a little tempering; even Alfred can see that. But Mimi is of all things his friend; Mimi, knowing of the six-volume edition of Shakespeare coveted by Alfred, presented it to him the moment her money came through to her. In this way Alfred has received the ideal gift; he could not have bought it himself because he has only his salary, and part of that goes into the household expenses. Their father, in his wisdom, decreed that the girls should have money and the boys shares in the business. So Alfred, burdened with adult cares, is more than a little shocked that Betty should benefit from so much of their mother’s concern.
However, he will be very glad to see the back of her. And of Frederick too, if the truth were known. He feels instinctively that Betty and Frederick form a natural pair, and that he and Mimi form another, quite different, alliance. Together and apart, Mimi and Alfred stand for those stolid and perhaps little regarded virtues of loyalty and fidelity and a scrupulous attention paid to the word or promise given or received. The house seems to him a friendlier place the moment Frederick and Betty are out of it, although he is a little hurt to see the extent of his mother’s grief, when only Mimi and himself are left. For the three days of their absence Alfred is happier than hehas been for some time; when he returns in the evening, it is to find a subdued and rather quiet Sofka, and to hear the strains of a Chopin
étude
drifting down from the old nursery without the interruption of Betty’s high voice or the slight moral exasperation afforded to him by Frederick’s ever good-humoured presence. And although Sofka looks preoccupied and somewhat sad, and although Mimi’s presence does little to cheer her up, Alfred finds that his mother clings to him in a way that makes him feel very strong, as if he is in a better position to care for her alone than with all the others put together. He finds this heartening, and something of a sop to his injured pride.
His position as head of the
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