_ Whatever Andrew Cruger may have thought in his inner consciousness on the subject of his son's engagement to Helene Stanton, he outwardly showed no sign that he was not well pleased. He simply gave the consent that Beverly asked of him, and accepted the new condition as another event in the continuity of life. "Of course there can be no formal engagement until her father returns from Europe," said he.
"Can't we get his consent by cable?" asked his son.
"I don't believe in these irregularities," said the elder Cruger, whose diplomatic training had made him something of a stickler for formality and precedent. "There will be time enough for that when he returns."
Beverly submitted without another word, for he felt that his father had already given way to him a good deal. The young people did not cable to Mr. Stanton for his consent, for all agreed that there would be time enough to acquaint him with the fact when he returned. Whatever Mr. Cruger's mental attitude toward the engagement might have been his manner toward Helene was most cordial. As for Beverly's mother, she was delighted beyond all words.
"The dear, dear girl, how I shall love her!" she said to Beverly, on hearing the news. And after she had showered mother kisses, plentifully mixed with mother tears, on them both, her happiness was well-nigh complete.
That afternoon the Crugers were to make a formal call on Helene. Andrew Cruger had finally yielded to his son's entreaties and consented to call on her, notwithstanding the fact that Mr. Stanton was still in Europe and his formal consent had not been obtained.
"I have been looking forward to the day when I should see my son's wife," said the elder Cruger, somewhat pompously to Helene, as he greeted her with outstretched hand. He could never get over the idea that formalism was the soul of function.
"I have always felt that I would demand a great deal of her," went on Mr. Cruger, in his best after-dinner manner. "I thank you for giving me everything I could desire! You are the daughter of a man whose charity and beneficence we all respect and admire, and--" Here he paused to take breath.
"Thank you," said Helene simply. She was surprised that he did not kiss her instead of making a formal speech.
"I know that father means what he says," remarked Beverly to his mother; "but I do wish he would say it in a less stereotyped manner."
"Hush!" replied his mother, "your father is speaking again."
"I want your married life to begin auspiciously," continued the elder Cruger, as if he had not been interrupted. "So I have made what I consider to be a sacrifice for you. I had hoped to retire from public life, but I have altered my decision. I shall again represent my country in a foreign land."
Helene gratefully acknowledged the sacrifice, although she did not quite see where it came in. She had heard that most American representatives at foreign courts managed rather to enjoy life than otherwise.
"When I go abroad as hostess in the Embassy that Mr. Cruger represents," Mrs. Cruger said, taking up the thread of the conversation, "I want my son's wife to share my honours. A sweet young woman, far younger than I, is almost a--a--"
"A charming necessity," added Mr. Cruger, who made it a habit to finish his wife's sentences.
"Yes, a charming necessity," echoed his wife, and, then she continued:
"The fact that Octavie is engaged suggests a double wedding. They will marry in June, if the weather is good."
"What has the weather to do with Octavie's wedding?" inquired Mr. Cruger.
"Simply that it's an automobile wedding, Andrew," replied his wife.
Mr. Cruger looked almost pained. "Permit me to remark, Mary, that no Cruger was ever married in an automobile and I trust that no Cruger will so far forget himself or herself as to establish so ridiculous a precedent."
"The motor business comes in after the wedding, father; at least so Octavie said," whispered Beverly.
"Your niece is very frivolous," remarked Mr. Cruger to his wife. "I shall take pains to remind her that we Crugers marry quietly in Trinity!"
Helene laughed aloud. The idea of Octavie doing anything quietly appealed to her sense of humour.
"She does not take us very seriously," thought Mr. Cruger. Mrs. Cruger glanced at her husband and noticed a rather injured expression appear upon his face. Evidently he was not highly pleased at Helene's levity.
"You have written to your father?" Mr. Cruger asked her presently.
"No, Mr. Cruger," replied Helene after a pause.
"No, my dear?" echoed Mr. Cruger in surprise.
"I will tell him when he returns," said Helene.
Mr. Cruger was almost dismayed. "You have not written to your father?" he repeated. "My dear Helene, these formalities must be complied with! Your father's consent is of the utmost importance. Not that I anticipate any--er--opposition from that quarter, but it's merely the idea of the thing! Of course, I am somewhat old-fashioned, I admit."
"In France, for instance, it is against the law," interrupted Beverly in a satirical tone.
Helene smiled. Her prospective father-in-law appeared to her somewhat punctilious, but she determined to humour him.
"Your father is quite right, Beverly," she said. "I should have cabled at once."
At this moment Joles entered, apparently somewhat nervous. "Mr. Von Barwig is here, miss," he explained. "I told him you were engaged, but----"
"Ask him to come up, Joles." Joles was surprised, but being a well-trained servant, his face gave no outward indication of his feelings.
"It is my music master, Mrs. Cruger. I think this is a splendid opportunity for you to see him about your niece's music lessons." Mr. Cruger looked almost shocked. A music master invited to take part in a family function! Such conduct savoured of socialism, and socialism did not appeal to him.
"Herr Von Barwig is a most exceptionable person," said Helene, quite unconscious of the thought her words had aroused in her prospective father-in-law.
"Von Barwig? Von Barwig?" repeated Mr. Cruger, apparently interested in the name. "Don't I know that name? It seems quite familiar. A music master, you say? Yes, it seems to me that I do know it!"
"He's one of the dearest old chaps I ever met," broke in Beverly, "such a gentle creature, a most excellent musician, but rather unfortunate."
"I know the name quite well, but if it's the man I mean it's impossible that it can be the same. He was a fine musician, from Dresden I think. Was it Dresden?" he asked himself, as if annoyed that his memory had played him false. "It must have been Dresden or Leipsic."
"Herr Von Barwig," announced Joles, in his most formal and freezing manner.
Poor old Von Barwig came into the room expecting to see no one but Helene, and was painfully astounded to see so many strangers. He wore his old broadcloth suit; it was well brushed, but more shiny than ever. Poons had carefully brushed it for him that morning and it was more than scrupulously clean. His gloves were old, but Jenny had mended up the holes the night before, so he looked even neater and more genteel than usual this afternoon. He carried the cheap little bunch of violets, wrapped in paper, in one hand and his hat in the other, for Joles had never been able to persuade him to leave it in the hall. He stood by the door, as close as he could get to it, as if afraid to come in, and then bowed low to Helene and the others. There he waited with timid dignity, uncertain as to what he should do next. There was a dead silence for a few moments.
"I'm so glad to see you," said Helene in an affectionate tone, coming to the rescue; and taking him warmly by the hand she led him away from the door into the middle of the room.
"Glad to meet you again, Herr Von Barwig," said Beverly, coming forward, and shaking hands with him far more cordially than the occasion called for. He then introduced Von Barwig to his mother and father. The elder Cruger looked at him very closely.
"It seems to me that we have met before, sir. Your face is very familiar. Yes, yes; Prince Holberg Meckstein introduced me to you at one of your concerts."
"Holberg Meckstein," repeated Von Barwig in a frightened voice. "Yes, I--I knew him; but--but--I--forgive me, I--I do not remember!"
"It was in Leipsic; oh, it must be fifteen years ago!" said Mr. Cruger. "At that time I had the United States Embassy at Berlin. Surely, you must remember! You became nervous that night while conducting your own symphony, and you fainted away right before the audience. Don't you remember?"
"I remember," said Von Barwig, in a low hoarse voice, which he controlled with great difficulty.
"And then a few months later you made some inquiries at the Embassy for me," went on Mr. Cruger, "but I was unfortunately not there at the time, and so was unable to be of service to you. You had some mission, some object in going to America, the Secretary of Legation said. You wanted a list of all the large towns in the United States. I hope you were successful in finding what you were searching for?"
"No, sir, I did not accomplish--my mission," replied Von Barwig, who had gained command of himself to some extent, and could speak without giving evidence of his emotion. "It is extremely kind of you to remember me!" His retiring, bashful manner was somewhat disconcerting, but beneath it there was the unmistakable evidence of birth, breeding and dignity.
"I am glad to find you in the house of such a distinguished citizen of the United States as Mr. Stanton," said Mr. Cruger at parting with Von Barwig.
"Ah, you know him, her father! He is a distinguished citizen?" said Von Barwig, and the last ray of hope died within him. "He is a distinguished citizen," he said to himself, "and he is her father." He sighed deeply, and reproached himself for ever having hoped.
"That old man has a history," thought the elder Cruger, as he went up to Helene, intent on saying good-bye to her. Joles had announced his wife's nieces, and he did not care to stay longer. He had done his duty by Beverly and that was all that was necessary. As he shook hands warmly with Helene, he said to her:
"I should like to see Herr Von Barwig again."
Helene squeezed his hand warmly; it was the first note of affection that had been sounded between them.
"Let me know if I can be of any service to him," he said.
"I will, I promise you I will," replied Helene, and Mr. Cruger took his departure, accompanied by his son.
The girls were introduced to Herr Von Barwig. "And this is Helene's romance," thought Octavie, as she looked at Von Barwig and laughed aloud. Von Barwig thought she was a very pleasant young lady, and smiled back in return.
"I should like Charlotte to study for the next two years, Herr Von Barwig, and Octavie till about June," said Mrs. Cruger, who was determined to get Herr Von Barwig to teach her nieces, since Helene had recommended him so highly.
"I don't want to study at all," said Octavie. "Who ever heard of an engaged girl studying?"
"And pray, am I not an engaged girl, as you call it?" asked Helene, who was pouring out tea. "And do I not study?"
"Yes, but you're an accomplished musician and----"
"One lump or two, Herr Von Barwig?" broke in Helene, to change the conversation.
"No lumps! Yes, thank you, I take one," said Von Barwig, somewhat confused by the incessant chatter of the young ladies, who smiled at his awkwardness.
"Cake, Herr Von Barwig?" Helene held out the dish to her music master.
"No, thank you," he replied quietly, and then catching an appealing look from her, he took a cake, and then another.
"The idea of waiting on a music master," whispered Octavie to Charlotte; "she'll spoil him."
"She's a socialist," said Charlotte.
"Come, girls, tell Herr Von Barwig what you know. If he can teach such a finished pianist as Helene, I am determined that you shall have the advantage of his tutelage."
"A finished musician?" thought Von Barwig. "Heaven save us! You have had lessons before?" he continued to ask one of the gay young ladies. "You have studied a great deal, yes?"
"We've had lots of lessons," replied Octavie, "but I don't think we've studied; at least I haven't!" she confessed.
"Don't count on me! I know nothing; absolutely nothing!" volunteered Charlotte.
"Well," said Von Barwig sententiously, "that is something at all events! Many musicians take years to discover that."
"I only want to know enough to do a few stunts," said Charlotte to him gaily.
Von Barwig's face fell. "Stunts! they do not love music," he thought, "they want to do tricks." And then the girls talked on the subject of musical comedies, popular songs and dance music, until their aunt interrupted them.
"Come, Charlotte," said the excellent Mrs. Cruger. She thought her nieces had had time to prevail on the eminent professor to take them. "Remember your appointment at the museum."
Von Barwig, in the act of drinking tea, nearly choked. He thought of his Dime Museum. "If they should ever dream of such a thing!"
"My drawing master is meeting me at the Museum of Art," explained Charlotte to Von Barwig.
"Will you play something before you go?" asked Von Barwig. Charlotte went to the piano and banged out a two-step march that was the raging popular tune of the day.
"Ah, that is the stunt! Now, if you will play some music," ventured Von Barwig, "I can just tell you where you are."
"Isn't that music?" asked Charlotte.
"It is rhythm and jingle--a stunt as you call it. Real musicians do not write such things."
"Isn't there a method of learning how to play without practising?" broke in Octavie.
"From nothing comes nothing," said Von Barwig with a sigh.
"Quite true," assented Mrs. Cruger.
"Some day," said Von Barwig prophetically, "some day they will invent a machine that will play itself. All you will have to do is to pump a bellows, or turn a wheel and the music will play itself! You will see; there is so much demand for it, some one will rise to the occasion."
"Splendid!" said Charlotte. "Won't that save lots of hard work!"
"We'll write and make an appointment; Helene will give us the address," said Octavie, as they said good-bye to Von Barwig.
"Thank you so much, Herr Professor, for your patience and courtesy," said Mrs. Cruger at parting.
Herr Von Barwig bowed. The girls accompanied by their aunt took their leave, and he was left alone with Helene. He took the paper from the little bunch of violets he had brought with him, and handed them to her.
"Ah, thank you so much! But why do you always bring me flowers?"
"Why do we love the light?" he asked. "Because it gives us joy."
She took an orchid she was wearing and tried to pin it on his coat. "I am afraid," said Von Barwig, "that it is healed up!" Helene laughed.
"What a curious expression!" she said. Then she walked up to the window and looked out.
"Shall we begin where we left off?" asked Von Barwig as he opened the music. He had been waiting some time for her to come to the piano.
"You like him, don't you?" said Helene in a low voice.
"The young Herr Cruger?" asked Von Barwig. Then without waiting for an answer he went on: "Yes, he has a fine noble heart. He is different to the young men here; quite different."
"I am glad you like him!"
"Why?"
"I don't know. I am glad, that's all!"
At that moment Von Barwig was supremely happy. Neither of them spoke for a few moments.
"Shall we not begin?" he said, breaking the silence.
Helene walked slowly to the piano and sat down.
At that moment Joles entered the room with a message for Miss Stanton.
"Put it down, Joles," she said, striking a note here and there on the piano.
"It's a telegram, miss."
"Oh! bring it to me, then." He obeyed. She opened it and read:
"Left Paris this morning en route to New York. FATHER."
A feeling of dread crept over her; the smile on her face gave way to a hardness of expression. Gone was the joy, the happiness, in the girl's face, and in its place was doubt, apprehension, anxiety.
Von Barwig looked at her; the keen eye of love quickly detected the presence of fear. He did not speak, but his look demanded an answer to its question.
"My father is coming home," she said, forcing herself to smile.
"Ah? So? I shall be glad to meet him," said Von Barwig. _