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Miss Winstock, in the car, sat for the statue of wistful melancholy. "Heavens!" breathed Mr. Prohack to himself. "The little thing is taking me seriously. With all her experience of the queer world, and all her initiative and courage, she is taking me seriously!" He was touched; his irony became sympathetic, and he thought: "How young the young are!" Her smile as he rejoined her had pathos in it.
"I've never been in an accident in my life," Mr. Prohack objected. "If you had, you'd sympathise with me." At this moment the Eagle drew up at the desired destination in Conduit Street. Mr. Prohack looked at his watch. "I'm sorry to seem inhospitable," he said, "but my appointment is extremely important. I cannot wait." "Can I wait?" Miss Winstock suggested. "I'm quite used to waiting for Mr.
Winstock, pointing to a ruin on the left. "It was the palace of the Elector Palatine. Between the castle and the hill are the remains of St. Werner's Chapel. In the middle ages, it is said that the Jews at Oberwesel, farther down the river, crucified a Christian named Werner, and threw the body into the stream.
Besides the six hours of study and recitation required of the pupils per day, they were all trained in gymnastics by Dr. Winstock, the surgeon, who had a system of his own, and was an enthusiast on the subject.
The course of the train was through Brittany, of which Dr. Winstock had much to say. It is a poor country, not unlike Scotland, though it has no high mountains. The lower order of the people wear quaint costumes, and have hardly changed their manners and customs for three hundred years. "Do you see that building in the churchyard?" said the doctor, as he pointed out the window.
The boat pulled up to the Quai Vandyck, and Paul for the first time put his foot upon the continent of Europe. "Where shall we go first, Paul?" asked Dr. Winstock, when they landed upon the quay. "I don't know, sir; I think I shall be interested wherever we go. This is a big city isn't it?" "Its population is hardly more than half of what it was in the days of its greatest prosperity.
A regiment of soldiers could not keep them straight." "I think you are right, doctor. I am tempted to take their money from them." "Do it, by all means!" exclaimed Dr. Winstock. The chaplain regarded the measure as rather high-handed. He thought it would belittle the boys, and deprive them of some portion of their self-respect.
"Well," he proceeded, having now successfully concealed his emotion, "after having dealt as I suggest with my wife and children, you will deal with my affairs. You shall have the same salary as Mr. Carrel Quire paid or forgot to pay. Do you agree or not?" "I should love it," replied Miss Winstock with enthusiasm. "What is your Christian name?" "Mimi." "So it is. I remember now.
And he took his diary from his pocket and gazed at it intently, frowning, though there was nothing whatever on its page except the printed information that the previous Sunday was the twenty-fourth after Trinity, and a warning: "If you have omitted to order your new diary it would be well to do so NOW to prevent disappointment." "It's awfully good of you to have me here," said Miss Winstock.
But there is no truth in it, since the picture was hung up in the Cathedral before Vandyck entered the studio of Rubens." "I suppose these people like to tell good stories, whether true or not." "Yes; and you will find a man up in this steeple who believes that his spire is the tallest in the world," added Dr. Winstock.
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