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Updated: June 24, 2025
"What have you for lunch, boys?" he asked. "I am a bit hungry." "I thought so," said Pinac, quickly jumping up and opening the cupboard which housed their slender stock of provisions. "Some sausage, some loaf, some cold potato," he said, as he surveyed the contents of the shelf on which reposed the articles mentioned. "Good; splendid!" said Von Barwig.
His silence surely meant something, and besides, he looked every inch a nobleman with his fashionably cut Van Dyck beard. There was a picture of the Duc de Guise in one of the bedrooms Heavens only knows where Miss Husted got it, but there it was and pointing to it with great pride, she defied Monsieur Pinac to deny his relationship to the defunct duke. Pinac did not take the trouble to deny it!
"I am almost sure he doesn't." "We ask him to dine the evening," said Fico, with a look of triumph, feeling that he had not only discovered the problem but had also solved it. "Yes," assented Pinac, "we ask him." At this moment Poons came back into the room, having forgotten his music. Miss Husted was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she had no time to frown at him.
"To hell with the café," said Fico as he wrote to his employer, the proprietor of the restaurant, saying they did not intend to play that night, and could never come again. Not for me, never again," said Pinac as he indited his resignation. "À bas le café!" "I don't trouble to write at all," said Poons in German, "I simply don't go." Presently the dinner came, and what a dinner it was.
"You need not fear. I shall never want any other music master but you, never!" Pinac and Fico noticed it and so did Miss Husted. Poons probably would have noticed it, too, if he had not been in love. But Jenny was the only one who really felt the change in Professor Von Barwig. Try as he would, the old man could not conceal from them the fact that "something had happened."
"I haven't been sociable lately; not at all like myself," went on Miss Husted, "I'm so upset." "That's all right," said Fico, who didn't know what else to say. "Sure," nodded Pinac, who felt he had to add his share to the conversation; then they picked up their music and started to leave the room, but Miss Husted held up her hand and signified that she wanted them to remain.
There was a stove, a sink, a large cupboard, and other conveniences for light housekeeping. There were four bedroom doors opening into this hallway, three of which were occupied by Pinac, Fico and Poons, and the fourth Von Barwig took possession of.
Fico had recognised Von Barwig as the occupant of the first floor and took this opportunity of making the acquaintance of the musician whose music he had so often heard on the piano for Von Barwig frequently played his own compositions and the strains were wafted through the open window. Pinac was most enthusiastic, for he knew Von Barwig slightly by reputation.
In spite of her sorrow she felt proud of the past. The men looked at each other. They had heard this for the past fifteen years. It meant a long session and they wanted to practise their music; so Pinac merely nodded, and Fico shook his head gravely. "Why, I was pointed out by everybody as Miss Houston of Houston Street. I was a landmark; a sight." "Yes," said Pinac unconsciously.
Cheer up," cried Von Barwig hysterically, and he slapped Poons on the back to conceal his emotion. "Mazette! Do you smell something?" inquired Pinac, sniffing the air. "Something is burning!" Von Barwig started and hastily looked into the coffee pot. "Ach Gott, boys," he said, "it's the coffee!" and he laughed. "Is it boiling?" asked Pinac. "Boiling! No, it's burning!
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