Chapter 14

"Good afternoon," the clerk behind the counter quickly looked Kurt over. "How can I help you?"

"I need to hire a maid."

It wasn't that Kurt became attached to people, but he didn't particularly like changes. As was the case now, he needed to find a new maid to replace Eliza. After the whole ordeal at the charity event, Kurt couldn't keep Eliza in his house as a servant. Doing so would hurt Philip's feelings. For Philip, Eliza was not just a humble servant - he saw her as an equal. And he had painted her portrait, looking into his soul.

Kurt didn't know exactly what had happened. He couldn't find Eliza or Philip that evening. In a state of distress, he returned home, and the next day Philip and Eliza visited him. With shining eyes, Philip told Kurt that he had withstood a truly fierce battle with his mother but had made her accept Eliza. He pleaded with her, appealed to her mother's love and her kind heart, and Catherine Danee gave in. She accepted Eliza, and they talked for a few hours. And during this meeting, Catherine made a slip that Eliza may be a well-conducted girl, but she lacked education. She said nothing more but made it clear that if she didn't approve, at least she was resigned to her son's choice.

Throughout the story, Eliza didn't say a word, just stood blushing and embarrassed, smiling with the most radiant smile Kurt had ever seen. He was glad that everything had turned out that way, although he felt the need to visit Catherine and apologize.

"We have a lot of contenders, Mr..." the clerk said.

"Rhein."

"Yes, Mr. Rhein! Do you have any special requirements?"

"Special? It seems not. My previous maid kept the house clean, received correspondence for me, cooked..."

Kurt immediately felt sadness, remembering what a wonderful tea Eliza had made for him. She seemed to be able to sense what taste would be best for his mood. This thought caused Kurt to become upset, and he assured himself that he wouldn't find another maid like Eliza.

It was funny, but even though Eliza had only worked for Kurt for a couple of years, he felt a strong attachment to her. This new awakening in his soul now affected all aspects of his life, forcing him to look at things with fresh eyes and notice what was obvious yet somehow artfully hidden from his sight before.

"It would be perfect if she came in the morning for a few hours. That would be enough," Kurt added. He didn't want anyone to live with him, as Eliza had.

"We have a few candidates for you, Mr. Rhein. Would you like to take a look?" The clerk looked expectantly at Kurt. Kurt smirked slightly, reading his eyes, and handed over a few coins. The clerk pocketed the coins and placed three sheets of paper in front of Kurt.

Kurt walked away from the desk and sat on a chair. On the first page was written "Edna Hoggart". She was a little over fifty and had worked all her life as a housekeeper and a maid. Kurt was increasingly inclined towards her, though he had never seen her. The other two contenders had not made any positive impression on him.

"Please send Mrs. Edna Hoggart to me. I would like to speak with her in person," Kurt handed his card to the clerk behind the desk and wrote down an address. After bidding farewell, he left the domestic recruitment office to wander around the city.

Walking distracted him from the intrusive thoughts that plagued him when he was alone at home. In the past, he loved to engage in speculation, but now his thoughts were chaotic and unclear. His emotions, which Kurt could not get used to, disturbed his mind time and time again, causing him to walk in circles. At such moments, Kurt feared that he would lose his ability to think clearly and that would be the end of his career.

Fortunately, he found that his work with patients did not suffer. The knowledge and skills accumulated over the years did not allow him to lose his grip on sober reasoning and insight. However, in everyday life, Kurt admitted that he had become more sensitive. He still could not decide whether it was good or bad.

Answering this question, Kurt sometimes jokingly said to himself that he must admit that it was good because he couldn't choose another path anyway.

But he didn't believe it. He had a hope that he could return back to where his life was the same as before. But in his heart, he felt that this hope was just an empty illusion, which he preserved for security reasons.

Knowing that nothing can be brought back, you would be afraid to take risks. If you think that you can always return to the same place from where you started, taking risks becomes easier.

Kurt was amused by how he could deceive his mind as well as his patients could. Maybe, with the only exception being that he saw and realized how and why he was deceiving himself. His patients often strayed in their self-deception and were unable to find their way back to reality.

Kurt had lunch in Ellington's restaurant without an incident. However, Kurt had to admit that he felt a little bit disappointed that nobody violated his peace. He must have become used to the fact that there was something going on in his life.

In the end, constant changing is a kind of stability.

On the way home, he bought a newspaper, and at home, sitting in the living room with freshly brewed tea (which he made himself), he had just prepared to learn the latest news when there was a knock on the door.

It was Edna Hoggart, a plump short woman in a simple dress and a knitted cardigan. In her hands, she held a shabby old handbag.

"Mr. Rhein?" she asked. Kurt barely suppressed a smile; he had recently found himself smiling more often. But this woman... Kurt's analytical mind still had the capacity for dispassionate analysis and he concluded that she was a good woman - economical and responsible. He gathered this from her straight posture as well as the wrinkles around her eyes and the corners of her lips. However, Kurt's heart perceived warmth, comfort, and incredible charm in her. Her voice was soft yet firm, with the same tone of affectionate mothers when teaching their children something.

"Yes," said Kurt and stepped back, inviting her into the house. "You must be Edna Hoggart?"

Edna came into the house and at once thriftily looked around, noting details clear only to her.

"Come in, come in."

Kurt ushered her into the living room, where she sat on the chair, placing her handbag on her knees.

"I need a maid for a couple of hours a day," Kurt began. "For cooking, cleaning, and making tea."

"Do you like any peculiar tea?" Edna asked suddenly.

"Yes," said Kurt. He was curious.

"I feel a fragrance of cinnamon and mint, lemon and honey," Edna said with pleasure and smiled.

"You know how to make different teas?"

"Yes, of course, I do!" Edna smiled discreetly, but he could read genuine pride in her smile.

"Great! Also, I need you to receive mail, do some shopping and... I think that's all," Kurt finished. "Do you have any employer recommendations?"

"Of course," again, with pride, she said. "From the Fenrir-Danee family, if you like."

Kurt paused again and looked at Edna, now a little differently. "How long has it been since you stopped working for them?"

"A year ago."

"Why?" Kurt could no longer contain his curiosity. Edna gave him a sly look, a little surprised by his interest.

She tilted her head slightly, and sadness flickered in her eyes. "After Mr. Sullivan passed away and Mrs. Danee left the family mansion of Fenrir, there was no need for my services."

"And what about Mr. Fenrir?" Words came out faster than Kurt had pondered them.

Edna's look again became sly. "I have only a few responsibilities left. And even then, it's more friendship than duty," she replied evasively.

Kurt wanted to ask more about John but realized that any further questions would only represent him in an unfavorable light and would be simply tactless.

"Well, that's fine," Kurt said abstractedly. "Then I'll be glad to have you work for me."

Edna rose from her seat, and they discussed her salary and other minor details. After answering all the necessary questions, Edna insisted on making a cup of tea for Kurt. When they parted ways, Kurt sat by the fireplace and savored the tea with notes of ginger and cinnamon. It was different from the tea that Eliza used to make, and oddly enough, it reminded him of John.

Kurt had long forgotten about the newspaper. His thoughts, warmed by the fragrant tea and the flickering flames of the fireplace, were swirling around the room. And Kurt simply observed them; they didn't torment or bother him. On this evening, he returned to a state of serenity, granted him by his heart.