Wehlau shrugged his shoulders contemptuously. "Fine visitors, I've no doubt!"
"The Countesses Steinrück, an it please you."
"What! they are going to pay you a visit?" The Professor gazed at his son in surprise.
"Of course; we are beginning to be famous, and we receive the aristocracy in our studio. It is not all in vain to be the 'talented son of a distinguished father.' Are you really determined not to sit to me for your portrait, papa?"
"Confound you, no!" shouted the Professor.
"Very well; then I shall paint you clandestinely, and shall send you treacherously to the exhibition. Adieu, papa!"
And with the most amiable smile, as if the best understanding reigned between himself and his father, Hans withdrew. Outside the door he encountered Michael, who had just come home, and who asked him whether the Professor were in his study.
"Yes; but there is thunder in the air again," said Hans. "Come to the studio for half an hour, Michael, after you have seen my father. I want to make a slight change in my picture, and I must have you."
The young officer nodded compliance, and went to the Professor, whose gloomy face brightened somewhat at his entrance.
"I am glad you are come," he said. "Hans has just irritated me to such a degree that I fairly long for the sight of a sensible man."