"Poor, dear old man trying to conceal his poverty," thought she. Then an idea came to her.
"I want you to come and see me, Herr Von Barwig," she said. "I am going to take up piano study again, and I want you to help me. I shall be at home to-morrow afternoon at three. Of course you must be very busy, but if you have no other engagement will you call?"
"I will call, madam. I—I am—not engaged at that hour," said Von Barwig gratefully, as he bowed to her. Miss Stanton acknowledged the bow.
"You won't find me a very apt pupil, but you'll take me, won't you? Do, please take me!"
The old man could not speak; too many conflicting thoughts were working in his mind. "Take her! Good God—" The very idea overwhelmed him.
"You will take me, won't you?" she urged gently.
He took the card, and nodded. He dared not trust himself to speak; he would have broken down and he knew it.
"Good-bye!" she said. "Good-bye; it's getting so late, I must go!" She held out her hand. He took it and kissed it reverently, bowing his head as if she were a queen.
"Good-bye," she said again at the hall door. "Don't forget!" she added, as she waved her hand from the carriage window. Joles slammed the door shut and got on the box, and she was driven away.
The old man watched the carriage until it was out of sight, returning to his room in a dream. He could not realise or explain his feelings. He had been happy, perfectly happy; that was all he knew. He had been at rest, contented, satisfied for a few brief moments, and that glimpse of heaven had put new, strange thoughts into his life—thoughts that made his blood pulsate. He recognised that life had taken on a new aspect; how or why he knew not. A strange young lady had called upon him, and had left a card; he was to see her again, and his whole life was changed. This was the only point that was clear to him, that his life had changed. How long he sat there, trying to think it out and understand, he knew not.