"Hm!" commenced she immediately, "I thought that thou hadst fastened for the day in some pleasant company; but, Arabian adventure! thou hast returned before evening. This is well, for guests have been here, and they will come again shortly."
"Guests?" inquired Kranitski, and his face cleared somewhat, but briefly, because Clemens snorted.
"Yes, one of them was very important. Be pleased with the honor! Berek Shyldman! He said that next week, as God is God, he would sell thy furniture."
Seeing, however, that Kranitski, after he had removed his coat, dragged his feet through the little drawing-room, and that red wrinkles came out above his brows, she grew mild and spoke in better humor:
"But thou mayst take delight in two other guests who came. Great dandies, and of thy company, though young enough to be thy sons."
"Who were they? who? who? Speak, mother!"
"How can I remember those Arabian names? But they left cards—wait, I'll bring them this minute—I put them in the kitchen."
She turned toward the kitchen, but right behind her, stepping almost on her heels went Kranitski, delighted and impatient, he almost snatched from her hand two visiting cards, on which he read the names: Maryan Darvid and Baron Emil Blauendorf.
"Ah!" cried he, "those dear children! The baron has returned then! And his first thought after returning was of me! What a heart! I go; I run!"
And, indeed, he ran to the door of the antechamber, radiant, rejuvenated, but Mother Clemens stood in his way, squaring out her shoulders in the checkered kerchief.