"Come, think of Jenny, of Poons! New thoughts, new life, a new family!
Now I say good-bye to one or two good neighbours, to Galazatti and the grocer, and the poor old Schneider. I"ll be back, I"ll be back," and Von Barwig put on his cloak and rushed off.
How long Miss Husted sat there at the table she never knew; she was too stunned to think. Going, her dear professor, going! It could not be true, she would not believe it! But she had seen his steamship ticket and there was his trunk. She went over to the little portmanteau and saw that the key was in the lock. She opened it to see if it was packed properly. She then noticed the little roll of bills in her hand and for the first time realised that it was his money she had taken.
"Perhaps it is his last few dollars," she mourned. She stooped down and secreted the money in one of the pockets of his Prince Albert coat; then she closed the lid of the portmanteau. As she did so she burst into a flood of tears, and giving way completely to her feelings, she knelt by the little trunk and fairly sobbed as if her heart would break. When Pinac, Fico and Poons returned to their respective rooms they found her kneeling by the trunk. When they spoke to her she pretended to be singing a worn-out ditty of years gone by. It struck the men as being most tearful for a comic song.
It was some time before Miss Husted had sufficiently recovered herself to knock at Poons"s door and inform him that she had withdrawn her opposition to his marriage with her niece. How she made herself understood is one of the mysteries and must remain so, but Poons understood and felt that she was now his friend. With a boyish shout he seized her around the neck and hugged her so tightly and kissed her so fervently that her princ.i.p.al curl came near severing its connection with the portion of her hair that really and truly belonged to her. It was not until she had slapped his face several times, and told him she was to be his aunt and not his sweetheart, that he released her, and even then he insisted on holding her hand and telling her how much he loved Jenny. So much noise did the boy make that Pinac and Fico rushed out of their room to find out what was the matter.
Poons"s explanation to them was nearly as lucid as his previous effort to enlighten Miss Husted. He threw his arms around their necks and kissed them on both cheeks and danced them around the room. He pointed to Miss Husted and tried to kiss her again, just to show his friends the relationship between them, but that good lady had had enough of Poons"s osculatory manifestations and indignantly threatened to slap him again if he tried to carry on with her! Jenny joined them and there was more explaining and still more kissing. When Von Barwig came back he found them all in an uproar congratulating each other in mixed American and Continental fashion. His presence added to the general joy. He kissed Jenny tenderly and formally gave her to Poons. He squeezed Miss Husted"s hand in silence as he realised that his efforts on behalf of the young couple had been successful and he shook hands with his friends.
"It is a day of rejoicing, so let us rejoice!" said Von Barwig, as he emerged from his little room with a violin bow and some music in his hand. He then took a ring off his finger. "Poons, here! This ring was given me by your father twenty-five years ago. Wear it for my sake! For you, Pinac, my Mendelssohn Concerto. See, here is Mendelssohn"s own signature! Fico, here is my Tuart bow. It is broken in two places, but it is a fine bow."
"What is all this?" asked Pinac.
"It is my birthday!" replied Von Barwig, slightly at a loss for an answer.
"Your birthday is next month, Anton," said Fico.
"Well, I celebrate it now! It is my birthday, I celebrate it when I please. Come, no more questions, let us make this a day of rejoicing!
Come, wish me luck! Your hands in mine, boys, and wish me luck and G.o.d-speed!"
They did not understand, but did as he asked them. Miss Husted and Jenny understood, and they were sad and silent as they watched the men wish Von Barwig good luck. As they stood there, clasping each other by the hands and singing one of their glees, Thurza rushed up stairs and shouted: "Some one to see Miss Husted." The good lady invited them all downstairs to her room to have a gla.s.s of wine in honour of the occasion, and disappeared below stairs, followed by the men. Von Barwig promised to join them later, but now he wanted to be alone.
After they had gone he seated himself by the stove.
"All is finished," he thought. "Helene is married; a happy marriage.
Jenny and Poons are provided for, so my work is done. To-morrow I shall be here no longer! Leipsic, once more Leipsic. Heimweh, Heimweh!"
Although he spoke habitually in English, he thought in the German language. How strange it all seemed! The music of his last symphony had been running through his head all morning. He could hear it plainly.
"I pick up the pieces of my life where I left off," he mused. "Back to Leipsic I go. How strange it will seem after all these years?" Home, home; the thought soothed him. He was tired out, for he had been awake since early dawn and the food he had eaten and the warm glow of the fire on his face made him drowsy. With the music of his last symphony echoing in his mind, the old man fell asleep.
Chapter Twenty-five
Without doubt it was one of the largest and most fashionable weddings ever given in New York"s social history. Society attended _en ma.s.se_, not so much because it was the fashionable thing to do, as that the young people were great favourites in their world.
The wedding breakfast was a crowded affair, and both Helene and her husband were glad when that function was finished, and the business of receiving congratulations and saying good-byes was over and done with.
The steamer on which they were going to Europe was to sail in three hours.
"Let us go early, and escape from our friends," whispered Beverly to his bride.
"I must have an interview with my father before I go. I must!" said Helen. Then she added in a voice that sounded strangely harsh, "He has avoided me ever since the ceremony!"
Beverly Cruger had noticed that Helene was nervous and emotional, and he attributed it to the excitement of the moment. But the deep-drawn lines of her mouth and the stern look in her eye indicated anger and deep-seated determination, rather than mere excitement.
"What is it, darling?" he asked tenderly. "Can"t you trust me?"
"My father has purposely avoided me," she replied. "He knows it is necessary that I should see him," and Helene then told her husband of her recognition of Von Barwig in church. "I have mourned for him as one dead and gone, and when I saw him to-day rising up like a spectre, as if reproaching me for my neglect, I was terribly overcome. Oh, Beverly, I can"t explain, I don"t understand why, but I think of him constantly, and my heart goes out to him! Even at this moment I am haunted by the thought of his dear, sweet, gentle smile. Why did my father tell me he was dead? There is some mystery connected with Herr Von Barwig that I am determined to find out! You"ll help me, won"t you? I mean, you"ll be patient with my--my unaccountable anxiety?"
Beverly nodded.
"Of course I will," he said. "Aren"t you my wife?"
"Somehow or other," Helene went on, almost unconscious of Beverly"s presence, "I feel sure that he is in some way connected with my mother.
I know you"ll think I"m foolish, but whenever I look at her portrait I think of him. Why _should_ I think of him, unless--" Helene paused.
"I shall never forget that day, the day I dismissed him. He stood at the door gazing at her portrait, the tears running down his cheeks, and oh, such a sad, sad, longing expression on his face! Why should the sight of my mother"s portrait make him cry? What is he to her, Beverly?"
Beverly shook his head. "I wish to G.o.d I hadn"t sent him away," moaned Helene. "What is this man to me that even the memory of his face makes me suffer! To-day of all days I should be happy, but I"m miserable, miserable, miserable!"
"If Mr. Stanton knows, he must tell us," declared Beverly emphatically.
"Yes, he shall tell us!" echoed Helene. "Let"s go to him and demand the truth."
"You stay here, Helene! I"ll bring him to you."
Three minutes later Beverly had found his father-in-law surrounded by friends, and had taken him by the arm and led him to Helene"s room. It was the room in which the old music master had given her lessons on the piano. Helene now confronted him; and Beverly going up to her stood beside her as if to protect his wife.
"Why did you tell me he was dead?" demanded Helene. Stanton was silent.
"You must tell her, sir," said Beverly. "It is necessary for her peace of mind!"
"It is necessary for her peace of mind that I remain silent," said Stanton.
"But she is suffering!" cried Beverly.
"She"ll suffer more if I tell her the truth," and Stanton turned to go.
"One moment, sir," and Beverly laid his hand gently on Mr. Stanton"s arm; "you must answer, this uncertainty and suspense must come to an end."
"What is he to me? Tell me!" entreated Helene. "Father, father, won"t you tell me? for G.o.d"s sake tell me!" and Helene clasped him by the arm.
"Tell her, sir," said Beverly in a commanding voice.
"I--I cannot," faltered Stanton; "it"s impossible!"
"Then I"ll find out from him," cried Helene. Stanton realised that he was cornered.
"Find out what you please, from whom you please," he said harshly.
"We"ll go to him; he"ll tell us. We should have done that at first,"
and Helene turned to Beverly.
"I warn you, you"ll bring untold misery on your head!" shouted Stanton.
He was infuriated at the idea of his authority being ignored.
"We want the truth, the truth!" cried Helene.