Meinhardis had coped with a new life. On some days—depressed and preoccupied with himself—he walked around or took long walks in the mountains. He couldn't shake off the thought that he hadn't been good enough to "Mummy." Every moment of the last few years when he-having come from duty annoyed-had taken out his bad temper on her, came to mind and haunted him. He threw himself into merry company, and no one could tell such good stories as he, no one court so charmingly, no one could think of such merry jests as he.
Sometimes his children worried him. But he hoped Helling would do it right. He watched Lela's appearance anxiously. Friends sometimes said pleasant things to him: Manuela would become a beauty. He was happy that she had his eyes and his shape. He wanted to have a beautiful daughter, and then, a lass had to be pretty if she wanted a rich husband. And that his daughter would get a rich husband was a done deal for him. "One with a deer hunt," he used to say. He liked to see himself as a dad-in-law on a beautiful estate in Northern Germany, walking in the garden, or entertaining hunting guests with wine Rotspon and a fat cigar. The money that had been there when Käte died was getting less and less. The pension was damn small. God, Meinhardis had always hoped that he could travel a bit when he was retired. But it wasn't enough. He silently hoped that the girl, as he called Lela in front of his comrades, would "pull the family out."
With greater trepidation he thought of Berti's future. The boy had to become a diplomat. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs needed such people. He would get his school diploma this year, and then, of course, he first had to join selected corps, for example in Heidelberg. So that he could get connections.
Such a boy needed connections in life. Getting to know good families, rich families, that was the main thing. Well, Berti was a smart lad. How the women were already running after him was simply wonderful. He would do it. God knows, he had met him the other day with a beautiful woman. Well, he haudn't looked. In such a case, as a father, one is discreet. And the regulars laughed. Yes, Meinhardis was different from other fathers. He left his children alone. After all, one didn't get anywhere with the eternal ban. As for him, Meinhardis had never been watched over also; he would probably have forbidden that.
They drank to the ideal father and toasted him.
"Well, here's to the future of your little beauty! May she live long!"
And Meinhardis was happy to oblige.