Wives, children, and parishes are adornments, obligations, and means of
livelihood. They are what a man has as well, but only as well. Herr
Dremmel during these years had trained his parish to be unobtrusive in
return for his own unobtrusiveness, and in spite of occasional
restiveness on the part of Baron Glambeck, who continued from time to
time, on the ground that the parish was becoming heathen and displaying
the smug contentment characteristic of that condition, to endeavour to
persuade the authorities to remove him somewhere else, was more firmly
established than ever in the heart of a flock that only wanted to be
left alone; and as for his wife and children, he regarded them
benevolently as the necessary foundation of his existence, the airy
cellars that kept the fabric above sweet and dry. Like cellars, one had
to have them, and one was glad when they were good, but one did not live
in them. As a wise man who wished to do fine work before being overtaken
by the incapacitations of death, he had contrived his life so that it
should contain enough love to make him able to forget love. It is not,
he had come to know very well since his marriage, by doing without but
by having that one can clear one's mind of wanting; and it is only the
cleared mind that can achieve anything at all in the great work of
helping the world to move more quickly on its journey towards the light.
For some weeks after Ingeborg's departure he was immensely unaware of
her absence. It was June, that crowded month for him who has
experimental fields; and small discomforts at home, such as ill-served,
unpunctual meals and rooms growing steadily less dusted, at no time
attracted his notice. He would come out of his laboratory after a good
morning's work in much the same spirit with which the bridegroom issuing
from his chamber, a person details cannot touch, is filled, and would
eat contentedly any food he found lying about and be off to his fields
almost before Robertlet and Ditti had done struggling with their bibs
and saying their preliminary grace.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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