His mother began to complain and his father to scold, because he had not kept his word.
"I deserve neither complaints nor reproaches," said Roland. "I had great difficulty in getting away from the company at the door of the restaurant whither I accompanied them, but would not go in."
All was made smooth again, and they went to bed.
"Why do you not ask me how I enjoyed the theatre?" asked Roland when he had entered his room.
"I preferred waiting for you to tell me."
"It was very fine; there were beautiful girls, and Cuno knew them all by name, and had some story to tell of every one; stupid stories they mostly were. For hours we had nothing but leaping and bending this way and that, without a word being spoken. Suddenly, I began to wonder what Benjamin Franklin would say if he could see it, and that spoiled all my pleasure. Cuno called me a snob, and I let it pass quietly, but he added something else which came near causing a duel."
"May I know what it was he added?"
"No; it was about you, but—of course you would not care for it. You are not anxious that every one should understand you, and whatever the world may say-—-"
"Say no more, dear Roland, I beg; I don't care to know what people say about me; it only burdens the mind without helping us to be better. But you have borne yourself well, and may sleep with an easy conscience. This has been your first experience under fire, and will not be your last. Only keep true to yourself and to me. Good-night."
Eric lay down with happy thoughts, and with happy thoughts Roland fell asleep.