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The summer days that followed were full of rest and pleasure for young and old, as they did the honours of Plumfield to their happy guests. While Franz and Emil were busy with the affairs of Uncle Hermann and Captain Hardy, Mary and Ludmilla made friends everywhere; for, though very unlike, both were excellent and charming girls.
Baron Emil, whose mediaeval mansion had been in recent days almost his one refuge from weariness and lonely tedium, had gone to his estate to make trips in various directions and search in village cottages and under their roofs for remnants of art which were genuine or suitable.
Nobody knows; nobody cares! "Now," sagely concluded Emil, "if Clayton could have been led off, then it's dead easy; but he started straight for the bank, and never got there. The gang may have piped him off for months, and they worked on him, right here in the heart of town." "Keep your mouth shut. Post me, on the quiet," said Ferris, as he remembered his telegrams.
So I chose my station. It was one franc twenty, third class. Then my train came, and Emil and I parted, he waving to me till I was out of sight. I was sorry he had to go back, he did so want to venture forth. So I slid for a dozen miles or more, sleepily, down the Ticino valley, sitting opposite two fat priests in their feminine black.
'Oh, my dear boy, I always felt you'd come back, and when everyone else despaired I never gave up, but insisted that you were clinging to the main-top jib somewhere on that dreadful sea'; and Mrs Jo illustrated her faith by grasping Emil with a truly Pillycoddian gesture.
"And who would substitute for me, Emil?" the professor asked. "That's all right," Emil replied. "I stopped in on my way over and I seen old man Hubai. He ain't shikker yet, so I told him he should go over and fiddle a couple czardas till you come, and to tell the boss you got a Magenweh and would be a little late. Me, I am going uptown to look at a fiddle.
"Is it far?" she asked. He looked at her, smiling. "No," he said. "Do you want to go?" She pressed his hand. It would be better. But her heart hurt. That was foolish. Emil was somebody different. Not like a man, but an old man or an old background. There would be things to think about Revolution. Before, revolution was people arguing and being dragged to jail. Sometimes people fighting.
Bhaer, with a sharp rap on his desk, as he looked sternly toward the corner whence the sound came. Ned, Jack, and Emil sat there, and the first two looked ashamed of themselves, but Emil called out, "It wasn't me, uncle! I'd be ashamed to hit a fellow when he is down." "Good for you!" cried Tommy, who was in a sad state of affliction at the trouble his unlucky dollar had made.
After all the pincushions and sofa pillows and embroidered slippers were sold, Emil precipitated a panic by taking out one of his turquoise shirt studs, which every one had been admiring, and handing it to the auctioneer. All the French girls clamored for it, and their sweethearts bid against each other recklessly.
From his talks with Emil and Anna I learned of a whole world whose existence I had never even suspected the world of East Side art students, of the gifted boys among them, some of whom had gone to study in Paris, of their struggles, prospects, jealousies. I was introduced to several of these people, but I never came into sympathetic touch with them.
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