“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 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 Kurfürstendamm! That is where we shall live. You have nothing to compare with it in London.”
“I should like to live right in the forest, outside the city,” said Brenda.
“We shall live in the Kurfürstendamm,” 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 down the law even to Little 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 pompous 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 impediments 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 though it was time to know.
“Where does a young wife expect to go?” snapped August. “What a strange question! To your husband’s home, of course.”