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Updated: May 7, 2025
Pinac, Fico and Poons, huddled together around the fire bundled up in their overcoats, had to place their feet on the stove to keep them warm or blow on their fingers and walk about the room to keep their blood in circulation. At this time Pinac and Fico were playing at Galazatti's for their dinners, being unable to obtain more profitable engagements, and Poons was playing in an uptown theatre.
There was an awkward pause. "He lets us come down here to play. We practise to go into the Union. We use his piano; he is very kind," Pinac explained. At this point the unfortunate Poons dropped his bow and in picking it up, knocked his music stand over. When Miss Husted glared at him, Poons grinned guiltily, and stole a glance in the direction of Jenny.
"Is he is he? How is he?" faltered Poons, much relieved that the girl showed no evidence of acquaintance with the real condition of her master's mind. "I tell him," repeated the girl stolidly, without answering his question. Closing the hall door, she ushered him into the studio and left him standing there. Poons looked at his watch; it was a quarter past seven.
Not very observant usually, Poons noticed that the dinner table was set for two persons. Both places were undisturbed and the food was untouched. "He has not eaten," thought Poons. "Of course she is not here! Oh, God! that is the tragedy of it! The empty chair, always the empty chair it is like death!"
"That's right," assented Poons, "go on; it does you good. Give it to me, I deserve it!" "Poor old Poons, you do your best! Ah, your love does me good, old friend; but there's hell to face! She threatens to leave me, to leave me because I refused to allow him to come here. I've warned him! And if he shows his face in Leipsic again, I'll kill him! Look!" Von Barwig felt in his inner pocket.
His eyes were full of love, and he held Jenny's hand in his. Although she indignantly snatched it away as soon as the door opened, probably thinking it was her aunt, Von Barwig saw the action, and it brought joy to his poor, bruised old heart. "Come here, Jenny," he said. She nestled by his side. "Poons," he said sternly in German, "how long has this been going on?"
"What the hell we care, so long as he is happy," he said. Poons loved Von Barwig as a son, but the best of sons are self-centred when they are in love; and Poons saw nothing. Jenny was silent, she felt that she had lost her dear professor, but with that spirit of sacrifice of which woman alone is capable, she resigned her place in his heart to another.
Poons was just coming up the stairs to find out why Von Barwig didn't come down to drink Jenny's health. Von Barwig gave him a message which brought them all up in breathless haste. Mr. and Mrs. Cruger had gone below, and Von Barwig had finished packing and was locking his portmanteau as his friends stood around begging him to tell them why he was going and where.
Ah, it is not easy to see these old friends go out; one by one, like lamps in the dark!" Miss Husted could only gaze at him through her tear-bedimmed eyes and shake her head mournfully. Von Barwig tried to cheer her. "Come, think of Jenny, of Poons! New thoughts, new life, a new family! Now I say good-bye to one or two good neighbours, to Galazatti and the grocer, and the poor old Schneider.
"What did he say?" asked Poons, losing Von Barwig's next remark in trying to hear what Karlschmidt was mumbling. "He said it's his own fault," whispered the second flute. "He's quite right," assented Karlschmidt. "Hush, hush!" came from one or two others. Von Barwig was addressing the men again, and they wanted to hear. "Let's play; cut the speeches out," growled Karlschmidt.
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