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Updated: June 12, 2025
Von Barwig did not hear the latter part of her answer. His eyes were riveted on her. He could only repeat, "Dead dead." Then he looked at her and slowly shook his head in mournful tenderness, repeating the words, "Dead dead." To her own surprise Miss Stanton did not resent this sympathy.
"All these years has Professor Von Barwig been in my house and he has paid me like a gentleman. He pays me now, how does he do it? Oh, dear!" Miss Husted tried hard not to cry, but the tears would come. The men looked on sadly; they had always accepted his bounty, and now they were reproaching themselves.
He made a few remarks appropriate to the occasion and finally drank a toast to the standard of musical purity. This was Pinac's opportunity. "No, no, Von Barwig!" he said, "we are not fit to drink such a toast! We are in the gutter. It is you, my friend, you alone of all these present, who does not sink himself to play for money at a café on Liberty Street. To Von Barwig, the artist!"
"What is it, Anton?" asked Fico gently, "you are worried, anxious!" "You are in trouble, Anton," said Pinac, taking Von Barwig's hand. "Come confide in your friends; they help you." Von Barwig forced a laugh. "I troubled? Why, no, no! I have been to a wedding; a happy wedding, a smiling bride, a fine fellow of a bridegroom. A few tears, yes; but happy, happy tears! Come, come, long faces!
There, I've said it; I've said it!" cried Hélène in despair, and she walked to the window to hide her emotion. Von Barwig looked at her in silence. "Very well," he said after a few moments and then he looked around for his hat, which he always brought into the room with him. He realised that it was useless to try and move her and he turned to go.
In a few hours Anton Von Barwig, his heart beating high in expectation, was seated in one of the day coaches of a fast Pennsylvania Railroad train on his way to Chicago. Von Barwig had left New York with a light heart.
He was pleased, but he doubted. "Do sit down!" she said, and he went toward the piano. "Not at the piano; here," said Hélène, seating him beside her. "Now, listen to me, sir! You must not bring me expensive flowers every time you call." "They are not expensive," said Von Barwig with a smile. "It is the box and the ribbon that costs. You may have observed that I avoided them on this occasion."
He had no explanation, or, rather, he realised that the one he had was insufficient. "Why do you take so much interest in me?" she asked. "At first for a likeness, a likeness to some one I knew," replied Von Barwig, in a low voice. "You resemble a memory I have known, a memory that gives me so much happiness. She is gone, and now you pardon the liberty you take her place.
There was a dead silence for a few moments. "I'm so glad to see you," said Hélène 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 was there to carry out the wishes of the association, so he merely contented himself with saying that the musicians would undoubtedly have to go out under the term of the affiliation. "Music and bricks has got to stand by each other," said Mr. Ryan, unconsciously quoting Von Barwig. "They've got to, or there'll be no music; and no bricks." Music and bricks, then, was no longer a joke.
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