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Walter's sister, Greta, appeared. She had curly blond hair that shook fetchingly when she tossed her head. "What are you men looking so miserable about?" she said gaily. "Mr. Dewar, come and dance with me!"
Gus brightened. "Gladly!" he said.
She whisked him off.
Walter returned to the party but as he chatted to friends and relations, half his mind was on Gus's proposal and how best to promote it. When he spoke to his father, he would try not to seem too keen. Father could be contrary. Walter would play the role of neutral messenger.
When the guests had gone, his mother cornered him in the salon. The room was decorated in the Rococo style that was still the choice of old-fashioned Germans: ornate mirrors, tables with spindly curved legs, a big chandelier. "What a nice girl that Monika von der Helbard is," she said.
"Very charming," Walter agreed.
His mother wore no jewelry. She was chair of the gold-collection committee, and had given her baubles to be sold. All she had left was her wedding ring. "I must invite her again, with her parents next time. Her father is the Markgraf von der Helbard. "
"Yes, I know. "
"It's a very good family. They belong to the Uradel, the ancient nobility. "
Walter moved to the door. "At what time do you expect Father to return home?"
"Soon. Walter, sit down and talk to me for a moment. "
Walter had made it obvious he wanted to get away. The reason was that he needed to spend a quiet hour thinking about Gus Dewar's message. But he had been discourteous to his mother, whom he loved, and now he set about making amends. "With pleasure, Mother. " He drew up a chair for her. "I imagined you might want to rest but, if not, I'd love to talk. " He sat opposite her. "That was a super party. Thank you very much for organizing it. "
She nodded acknowledgment, but changed the subject. "Your cousin Robert is missing," she said. "He was lost during the Brusilov Offensive. "
"I know. He may have been taken prisoner by the Russians. "
"And he may be dead. And your father is sixty years old. You could soon be the Graf von Ulrich. "
Walter was not seduced by this possibility. Aristocratic titles mattered less and less nowadays. Perhaps he might be proud to be a count, but it might turn out to be a disadvantage in the postwar world.
Anyway, he did not have the title yet. "There has been no confirmation of Robert's death. "
"Of course. But you must prepare yourself. "
"In what way?"
"You should get married. "
"Oh!" Walter was surprised. I should have seen that coming, he thought.
"You must have an heir, to assume the title when you die. And you may die soon, though I pray-" Her voice caught in her throat, and she stopped. She closed her eyes for a moment to regain her composure. "Though I pray to heaven every day to protect you. It would be best if you were to father a son as soon as possible. "
She was afraid of losing him, but he was just as fearful of losing her. He looked fondly at her. She was blond and pretty like Greta, and perhaps she had once been equally vivacious. Indeed, right now her eyes were bright and her cheeks were fl
ushed from the excitement of the party and the champagne. However, just climbing the stairs made her breathless these days. She needed a holiday, and plenty of good food, and freedom from worry. Because of the war, she could have none of those things. It was not only soldiers who died, Walter thought worriedly.
"Please consider Monika," his mother said.
He longed to tell her about Maud. "Monika is a delightful girl, Mother, but I don't love her. I hardly know her. "
"There isn't time for that! In war the proprieties may be overlooked. See her again. You've got ten more days of leave. See her every day. You could propose on your last day. "
"What about her feelings? She may not want to marry me. "
"She likes you. " Mother looked away. "And she will do as her parents tell her. "
Walter did not know whether to be annoyed or amused. "You two mothers have fixed this up, haven't you?"
