ALFRED LICHTENSTEIN
The Virgin
Maria Mondmilch was the only child of the art historian Doctor
Maximilian Mondmilch and his lovely wife Marga Mondmilch. Mrs.
Mondmilch is said
to
have been at one time a scullery maid in the cafe in
which Mr. Mondmilch-who at the time was a student-drank tea, read
newspapers, and smoked. Mter the birth of the child she had secretly left
her spouse, supposedly to spend a few weeks with a champagne-waiter.
Thereafter she fooled around alternately with very different men from
very different social classes. She returned when she learned that the incur–
able doctor had been brought to a mental institution for diseases of the
brain. She carefully looked after the mortally ill man for the short time
before he died. Then she married a wonderful coachman, who idolized
her.
Doctor Mondmilch's illness was first discovered when he wanted to
commit a criminal offense against his eight-year-old daughter. Fortunately
the atrocity was prevented at the last moment. The child, frightened in
heart and mind, was placed in the care of the madman's brother, the excel–
lent Moriz von Mondmilch, a first-class administrative officer. The last
word of the dying art historian was, "Maria."
A curious affection developed between the uncle and the niece.
Nothing happened that could have been construed as illegal. The passion
between the child and the old man aroused the jealousy of old Mrs. Minna
von Mondmilch. After the marital discord had become too burdensome,
the angered civil servant felt compelled to agree one year later to a sepa–
ration from his ward. He also had to consider his daughter, who had
become a young woman. The parting was hard. His Excellency Moriz von
Mondmilch had a crying fi t.
Maria Mondmilch arrived in a large city. The strangers with whom she
boarded were paid a large amount of money. But otherwise they did not
concern themselves with Maria Mondmilch. She exchanged secret letters
with the noble uncle, filled with overflowing longing for life and hopes
for adventure. The consciousness of constantly having something to hide
gave her a solemn, inexplicable superiority. Maria Mondmilch preserved
her uncle's letters as though they were sacred relics. Some of the letters
were lost and became evidence in the famous divorce trial that excited the
whole country.
