As Von Barwig walked wearily up the stairway leading from the third floor to the top floor (or atelier as Miss Husted preferred to call it), he heard the sounds of music. It was Fico playing a waltz, "The Artist's Life," on the mandolin, while Poons extemporised a pizzicato accompaniment on the 'cello.
"Ah, my boys, they are in," he said to himself. "I hope they didn't wait breakfast for me."
"Professor, professor!" came the cheery voice of Miss Husted, as she greeted him warmly. "I'm so glad to see you!"
The music stopped.
"Hello, Anton, old friend," cried Fico as he grasped Von Barwig by the hand.
"Go on playing, don't stop for me!" said Von Barwig, taking off his rubbers and brushing the snow off his hat and coat.
Poons hurriedly put away his 'cello. He was ashamed of playing ordinary waltz music in the presence of Von Barwig. With him tradition was strong; the old man was still Herr Von Barwig, the great Leipsic Gewandhaus Concert conductor, with whom his father had had the honour of playing first horn.
The boy's mother had instilled this into his very soul.
"Why, Great Scott! Look at him! Where have you been? Ma foi, you look like a wedding; oh, Fico?" and Pinac pointed to Von Barwig.
"That's so, professor, you look just as handsome as a bridegroom," burst out Miss Husted.