FOR two months more this farce played itself to a conclusion. I had lost all sense of control over my own affairs. I watched myself go through the motions of a man engaged to the daughter of a millionaire, sometimes with a feeling that I had trapped myself, but more often with a detached amusement at the performance I was giving. I bought rings, sent flowers, was measured for new suits, and allowed myself to give small farewell dinners to old friends I didn’t expect to see again. As a crowning absurdity, I listened to an architect ask my opinion and wishes in the matter of a design for the country house which my future father-in-law was giving us for a wedding present.

Even when the details of my business connection with the Wiesner organizations was under discussion I was quite unable to take myself seriously in this new role. The old man had led me to believe that I would be son and son-in-law to him, his right hand man and business heir. But almost at once I discovered that my position would be less than that of a servant in the firm—a front which he could use to impress rival concerns.

Instead of being hurt and angry—the part I was playing didn’t call for such emotions—I joked with him. If I was going to be a foolish figure I thought I could at least act with the intelligence of a man who understands his role. To all my suggestions for injecting new ideas into his business affairs, a Rieger brand of idea for a change, he had the same answer: “You don’t understand business methods.”

This was no time or place for a show of stubborn pride. Exaggeration and flippancy was the theme. I told him it was up to him to make it possible for me to learn all there was to know about business; invest in me as he would in his sugar industry. I thought quickly and made him a proposition. Why couldn’t he pay me a substantial salary and send me to . . . Paris, for instance? With the connections I had made in the bank I would have entrée to any number of business houses there. I could learn at his expense and repay the investment when he made me a manager in one of his enterprises. Besides, Toni would love a year in Paris while our new house was under construction.

Perhaps it was the last consideration which decided him. He agreed to send us to Paris and pay me two salaries: one to be deposited to Mother’s name in a bank in Prague, the other to be sent to us in France.

I had already informed the general manager of the Associated Bank, on the morning of January second, that I must tender my resignation to take effect in a month’s time, due to my coming marriage and subsequent position in the Wiesner interests. Neither of us mentioned the matter of Chedeville and the franc exchange. The corporate face of the board was saved in the banking world and so was mine. They gave me innumerable letters of introduction to take to Paris and expressed deep regret over our parting. I had now only to close my desk in the directors’ wing on the day appointed.

But one more joke was pulled on me the day before I left the bank. If anything should have told me I was not being funny, but rather mad, this was it. One of our liveried messengers came padding over the carpets to bring me a visitor’s card on a silver tray. It carried the name of my uncle. By the time he arrived through the corridors to my inner office to be announced at my door, my face was sober and straight. We bowed to each other with exaggerated politeness and I deliberately sat him on the opposite side of my desk with his face toward the light. We exchanged meaningless pleasantries and I waited for him to reveal the motive of his call. I knew it could never have been by chance. Finally it came out: Mother had written to him of my approaching marriage to Wiesner’s daughter. He wanted to congratulate me, not I gathered on winning Toni’s hand, but on winning the support of so many millions. I realized he was trying to tell me how important I had become in the international world of finance. For a moment I wanted to punch his face, but I tossed off his compliments with a casual wave of the hand.

There was still more on his mind. Inasmuch as I had no brothers or other near male relatives, would I do him the honor of allowing him to serve as my best man at the wedding? Why not? That would complete the comedy.

Only Mother maintained her dignity through those days. I had broken my promise to her in not telling her my plans before I asked Toni to marry me. I could have explained to her that I had merely been the one who said yes, but I knew better than to tell her Toni had done the asking. When I returned in the early hours of the morning on New Year’s Day I gave her the simple fact of our engagement and plans to be married within two months, and then I had to watch the stunned expression cover her face. Had it remained, I could never have gone on with my role of jester, but she recovered quickly and from then on hid every suggestion of the pain I was giving her. Mother could never for an instant be less than the great lady.

She invited the Wiesners to our home and when they came she treated them with simplicity and natural charm. But they were as uncomfortable in her presence as I had been unhappy the first time I had entered their house. It was useless for me to try to bridge their two worlds; Mother and my family-in-law could never have anything in common. Toni was drawn to her at once and Mother responded generously, but it was always Toni who sued for Mother’s affection, never the other way about.

The civil marriage ceremony took place in the town hall. One would have thought Uncle was the groom. He was nervous, excited, proud of himself, overly attentive to the Wiesners, talkative and arch with Toni and altogether delightful in the eyes of my new parents-in-law. At the reception in their apartment he did the honors of our side of the house, perhaps intentionally over-playing his part in his attempt to hide the fact that I had suddenly taken off my false face in a colossal letdown.

All I could think of was Mother, sitting quietly in the shadows at the back of the drawing room. She was not unhappy and she had no wish to mar my pleasure. This was not her world and since she knew how to behave only as the simple soul and great lady that she was, she removed herself from the noisy friends of the Wiesners in order not to get in their way. Without knowing she was doing it, she had finally held a mirror before my face, and I saw myself clearly for a complete fool.

Mother left for Franzensbad immediately after the reception, and three days later as we crossed the frontier at Cheb on our way to Paris, there she was on the station platform. She had found out the time of our train and had come all the way from Franzensbad in order to spend these few moments alone with us and wave good-by to us once more.