After they had gone he seated himself by the stove.
"All is finished," he thought. "Hélène is married; a happy marriage. Jenny and Poons are provided for, so my work is done. To-morrow I shall be here no longer! Leipsic, once more Leipsic. Heimweh, Heimweh!"
Although he spoke habitually in English, he thought in the German language. How strange it all seemed! The music of his last symphony had been running through his head all morning. He could hear it plainly.
"I pick up the pieces of my life where I left off," he mused. "Back to Leipsic I go. How strange it will seem after all these years?" Home, home; the thought soothed him. He was tired out, for he had been awake since early dawn and the food he had eaten and the warm glow of the fire on his face made him drowsy. With the music of his last symphony echoing in his mind, the old man fell asleep.
Chapter Twenty-five
Without doubt it was one of the largest and most fashionable weddings ever given in New York's social history. Society attended en masse, not so much because it was the fashionable thing to do, as that the young people were great favourites in their world.
The wedding breakfast was a crowded affair, and both Hélène and her husband were glad when that function was finished, and the business of receiving congratulations and saying good-byes was over and done with.
The steamer on which they were going to Europe was to sail in three hours.
"Let us go early, and escape from our friends," whispered Beverly to his bride.