“He was tempted every five minutes, of course, to break out in his usual style, and could have found it in his heart to chuck the whole party under the chin, and take all the talk to himself. But he could be determined enough when he chose; and having determined to give his father’s rule a fair chance, he restrained himself to the utmost.
“So, not even the hearty reception of the old partner and his wife, nor the smiling faces of either daughters or sons, could lure him into opening out. ‘Yes’ and ‘No;’ ‘Do you think so?’ ‘I dare say;’ ‘Perhaps;’ ‘No doubt you’re right;’ and other such unmeaning little phrases were all he would utter when they talked to him.
“‘How shy he is, poor fellow!’ thought the ladies, and then they talked to him all the more. One tried to amuse him with one subject, another with another. How did he like the public gardens? Were they not very pretty?—He scarcely knew. No doubt they were, if they thought so. What did he think of the theatre?—It was very hot when he was there. Had he any friends in the town?—He couldn’t say friends—he knew one or two people a little. And the poor youth could hardly restrain a groan, as he answered each of the questions.
“Then they chatted of books, and music, and dancing, and pressed him hard to discover what he knew, and could do, and liked best; and when it oozed out even from his short answers, that he had read certain books in more than one language, and could sing—just a little; and dance—just a little; and do several other things—just a little, too, all sorts of nods and winks passed through the family, and they said:—
“‘Ah, when you know us better, and are not so shy of us as strangers, we shall find out you are as clever again as you pretend to be, dear Mr. Franz!’
“‘I’ll tell you what,’ added the old partner, coming up at this moment, ‘it’s a perfect treat to me, Mr. Franz, to have a young man like you in my house! You’re your father over again, and I can’t praise you more. He was the most modest, unobtrusive man in all our town, and yet knew more of his business than all of us put together.’
“‘No, no, I can’t allow that,’ cried the motherly wife.
“‘Nonsense!’ replied the old partner. ‘However, my dear boy—for I really must call you so—it was that very thing that made your father’s fortune; I mean that he was just as unpretending as he was clever. Everybody trusts an unpretending man. And you’ll make your fortune too in the same manner, trust me, before long. Now, boys!’ added he, turning to his sons, ‘you hear what I say, and mind you take the hint! As for the young puppies of the present day, who fancy themselves fit to sit in the chair of their elders as soon as ever they have learnt their alphabet, and are for thrusting themselves forward in every company—Mr. Franz, I’ll own it to you, because you will understand me—I have no patience with such rude, impertinent Jackanapeses, and always long to kick them down-stairs.’
“The old partner stood in front of Mr. Franz as he spoke, and clenched his fist in animation. Mr. Franz sat on thorns. He first went hot, and then he went cold—he felt himself kicked down-stairs as he listened—he was ready to cry—he was ready to fight—he was ready to run away—he was ready to drop on his knees, and confess himself the very most impertinent of all the impertinent Jackanapes’ race.
“But he gulped, and swallowed, and shut his teeth close, and nobody found him out; only he looked very pale, which the good mother soon noticed, and said she to her husband:—