Chapter V: Part 5

He paused to rub his cheek softly against the baby’s bald head. “Ach! She is a wonderful woman--wonderful!” he said, with a vast pride. “Dear little child, if thou wilt but take after thy wise, beautiful, witty, perfect, ever-to-be-adored grandmother, thou wilt be the greatest of men!” he told the baby.

Maman laughed like a girl. “What I most admire about the best Germans,” she said thoughtfully, “is their fine domestic sentiment. They have such tender hearts, which they are at times wise enough to show. Ah, Willy, how I rejoice, for my dear child’s sake, that you so greatly resemble your good father!”

“And so,” continued Father, comfortably, “our love for our children having made us hate each other, their love for each other and for us made us love each other. I found I was unhappy away from Madame. Madame discovered that she was happy only in my company. Do you think the young alone are capable of love? No, no! While there is life there is love. So Madame and I propose to make for ourselves a home, a fireside, where we shall sit, loving each other and our children, until our good Herr Gott removes us to a better Home. Your mother, Leontine,” he added to me, “is a remarkable woman, a perfectly marvelous woman! Wonderful, my child, wonderful! It is not to be told how I adore this angel of a woman!”

“You are going to be married?” Willy’s voice was all but hysterical.

“We were married,” said Maman calmly, “three days ago. Your father,” she told Willy, “is a very masterful man. He would have it so, without fuss and without explanations; and I was glad to please him.”

Father pointed to the holly-wreathed bust.

“My dear wife’s first Christmas present to me!” he said happily.

“Yes,” said Maman, with unabashed serenity, “Johann has labored to explain his real character to me. Johann loves and respects him, so there must be something to be said for the man, although I of course deplore the fact that he thought he had to be harsh to my dear country. But we are both good Americans. _This_ is our country. Remembering that, why should we waste our time quarreling about foreign statesmen?”

“Now you shall hear _my_ little gift to my dear wife,” said Father, proudly. Still holding the baby, who seemed perfectly content to snuggle on his shoulder, he marched over to a magnificent graphanola and slipped in a fine new record. Under the Chancellor’s mighty nose rose the soul-stirring, martial magic of the “Marseillaise.” We listened with delight, until it ceased. Then Maman, with a glance of affection and gratitude at Father, put in another record. Flooding the little Christmas-decked room came a beautiful blending of men’s and women’s and children’s voices, singing the old, old, lovely, holy Christmas hymn.

“Oh, come ye, oh, come ye, to Bethlehem!”

We all drew closer together, feeling our hearts in unison; and remembering the Holiest Baby of all, we looked down upon our own little baby very tenderly.

“My dearest children,” said Maman, with her hands clasped around Father’s arm, “I have to beg of you a favor, a great favor: for my best Christmas gift, promise me to name my little adored grandson Karl Johann!”

TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:

Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_.

Perceived typographical errors have been corrected.

Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.

Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.