Von Barwig shook his head; he could not remember. "Perhaps twenty, perhaps thirty times."
"And she was always out?" queried Beverly.
"Yes," said Von Barwig sorrowfully, "always!"
"Whom did you see?"
"Mr. Joles," came the ready reply.
"Every time you called?"
"Yes, I--I think so!"
Beverly Cruger looked at Von Barwig a few moments and knitted his brows thoughtfully. "It"s d.a.m.n queer," he said, after a pause.
"Has she written any letter to me? It did not reach me, that I am sure," began the old man.
"That"s all right. Now let me give you Miss Stanton"s message! She would like you to be at her home at four o"clock this afternoon. Can you manage it?"
Von Barwig did not trust himself to reply. He could only nod his head affirmatively.
"I"m glad I came up; awfully glad!"
Beverly arose from his seat and held out his hand to Von Barwig.
"Good-bye! Be on time, won"t you?" he said.
Von Barwig smiled. "Yes, I"ll be on time," he said joyfully.
The look in the old man"s face went to Beverly Cruger"s heart and he showed his sympathy as he shook hands with him again. He hurriedly pa.s.sed through the group of children who had gathered to look at the not too familiar spectacle of a hansom cab waiting at the door of Miss Husted"s establishment.
Von Barwig will always remember how wearily the hours dragged along until the time of his appointment uptown came. Finally they did pa.s.s, and though it lacked several minutes of the hour of four, Von Barwig walked up the stone steps of Mr. Henry Stanton"s house on Fifth Avenue and Fifty-seventh Street.
There was no change in the expression of Mr. Joles"s face to denote that he had received imperative instructions from Miss Stanton to admit Herr Von Barwig the moment he called. Nor did Mr. Joles appear to think it at all curious that young Mr. Cruger should happen to be in the hallway just as the music master came in at the door. His face displayed no emotion whatever when that young gentleman came forward and led the old man upstairs to Miss Stanton"s room. Neither Mr.
Cruger nor the music master saw the pale face of Mr. Stanton"s secretary, Ditson, peering over the staircase at them. But a moment later a telegram was sent to Mr. Stanton, telling him that there was an urgent necessity for him to come home at once. Curiously enough at about the same time Mr. Stanton received this telegram, he also received a letter from his daughter begging him to come home as soon as he could, as her mail had been tampered with and she strongly suspected Joles of acting in a most deceitful manner for reasons she could not fathom. It was because she expected her father that she acted under Beverly"s advice and did not mention the subject to Joles, nor even to Herr Von Barwig until her father had inst.i.tuted an inquiry.
The meeting between Von Barwig and his pupil was marked by no special display of emotion or even more than ordinary interest; for Von Barwig had steeled himself for the occasion. They greeted each other cordially, but it was only with the greatest self-control that he managed to conceal his delight at seeing her once more. Again occurred the formal presentation of the little bunch of violets; again the casual remarks about the weather.
"You are not angry?" asked Helene tenderly.
Von Barwig dared not reply; he could only smile and look at her in silence. After a pause he ventured to say:
"I have offended Mr. Joles"s feelings. I am sorry!" Helene held up a warning finger, indicating her desire to keep silence on that subject, at least for the present.
"Later on!" she said. "I intend to take up the subject with my father when he returns."
Von Barwig watched himself closely. He was determined to make no more mistakes, nor to yield to any temptation to give way to his feelings in the slightest degree.
"You have practised since I--during my absence?" he asked, a.s.suming a sternness he by no means felt, and that she saw through at once.
"Yes, _maestro_," she replied meekly. "I have practised every day.
I"ve really made great progress, _caro maestro_!" and she laughed softly.
"We shall see," said Von Barwig, with a critical frown on his face. He was a little self-conscious. He knew his own weakness, his temptation to become sentimental, and he had to watch himself continually to prevent his emotional nature from getting uppermost. This self-restraint made him slightly ill at ease, and Helene noticed it.
"You are strangely quiet this afternoon," she said. "I should have thought you would have had a great deal to tell me." Von Barwig merely looked at her.
"Come," said he, "we must get to work!"
"You did not receive a single line from me?" she asked as they neared the end of the lesson. "What must you have thought?"
"What right have I to think?" replied Von Barwig. "I am only a teacher! There are so many. I thought perhaps you had replaced me."
"Don"t talk like that, please," said Helene quickly, and shutting the piano up with a bang, she arose. "You know that I esteem you very highly," and she stopped suddenly. "I am going to find out all about these stolen letters and father will punish the culprit. He is very strict in these matters; he always punishes the guilty."
"But it is over and done now, so why punish any one?" began Von Barwig.
Helene shook her head.
"It hasn"t begun yet," she said, ringing the bell. Denning answered it. "Send Joles please," she said.
Denning bowed and a little later Joles appeared.
"Herr Von Barwig, my music master, will be here at three o"clock to-morrow afternoon. You will please admit him at once."
"Yes, madam," and Joles bowed his head rather lower than usual.
Von Barwig took leave of his pupil, appearing not to notice her outstretched hand, but merely bowing to her as he said good-bye. Joles opened the front door for him and Von Barwig looked at him pityingly.
His triumph over the servant was so complete that he felt sorry for him.
"Perhaps you did not mean to keep back the letters," said Von Barwig to him in a low, sympathetic voice.
Joles looked at him in blank astonishment.
"You have perhaps a family to support," went on Von Barwig. "I will ask Mr. Stanton to forgive you."
"Sir!" said Mr. Joles, with some slight show of indignation, "I do not understand you."
Von Barwig looked at the man a moment, and seeing that it was useless to discuss the matter with him he walked slowly down the stone steps, wondering what it all meant.
On the following morning Mr. Stanton arrived home. He appeared to be in very high spirits. Helene could not remember when her father had been so light-hearted and gay. She wanted to tell him about the suppression of her letters, of Joles"s contempt for her orders, and his lies about Von Barwig, but these were matters that evidently did not interest Mr. Stanton, for he paid very little attention to her complaints.
"It is your birthday," he said, "let no unpleasant features mar the day! See, I have not forgotten!" and Mr. Stanton produced a box that came from the most fashionable and most expensive jewelry establishment in America. "A trifle," he said. "Put it with your other gifts and show it to your friends when they come this afternoon."
Helene opened the box. Accustomed as she was to beautiful jewels, she could only gasp. Within it was a magnificent pearl necklace, beautifully graded, with colour matching to perfection.
"A trifle!" she repeated. "Father, it"s beautiful!" She wanted to throw her arms around his neck, to kiss him for his bountiful gift, but something in his manner checked her, so she stifled the impulse and contented herself with holding up her face. Mr. Stanton kissed her coldly and Helene drew back. It was an instinctive repulsion and she could not help showing it; he, on his part, appeared not to notice it.
"I will inquire into the matter of your letters being tampered with,"
he said, "although I am confident that you will find that you are labouring under some mistake. Joles is as honest as the day. What could be his motive?"