the room like a stage hero, while his guests stood still and stared.
What he said, however, made a great impression, for all the young gentlemen now vanished from the house. There was something in Aunt Teresa's threats which might have unpleasant consequences even for them.
When the family was alone again, there was a violent outburst of wrath against that meddlesome Aunt Teresa, and Mr. Meyer himself waxed so wroth that he felt bound to pour forth his grievances outside as well as inside the house. He still possessed two or three acquaintances whom he had learnt to know in his official days: they were now leading counsel in the supreme court, eminent jurists whose opinions he could safely follow. He had not seen them for a long time, but it now occurred to him that he might just as well look them up and be beforehand with Aunt Teresa in case she put her threat into execution.
His nearest acquaintance was Councillor Schmerz, a bachelor of about forty, a smooth-faced, quiet sort of man, whom he found in his garden grafting his pinks. To him he confided his grievance, telling him all about Aunt Teresa and the shabby trick she threatened to play him—reporting him to the Prince Primate, forsooth!
Mr. Schmerz smiled once or twice during this speech, and now and then warned Mr. Meyer, who was quite carried away by the force of his declamation, not to trample on his flower-beds, as they were planted with cockscombs and larkspurs. When, however, Mr. Meyer had finished his oration, he replied very gently—
"Teresa will not do that!"
"Teresa will not do that?" thought Mr. Meyer. "That's not enough for me." He wanted to be told that Teresa could not—was not allowed to do it; and if she tried it on, so much the worse for Teresa.
Mr. Schmerz had evidently made up his mind to graft an endless series of pinks that afternoon, so Mr. Meyer thought it best to carry his complaint to another of his acquaintances, in the hope that he would and must give a more definite reply.
This other acquaintance was Mr. Chlamek, a famous advocate, one of the most honourable of characters, and withal an exceedingly dry man—practical shrewdness and commonsense personified. He, too, was a pater-familias with three sons and two daughters.