“You must understand how deeply I am interested in your affairs. Er—how old are you?”
“Seventeen, sir.”
“Seventeen? I should have thought you were older. But seventeen is not an age of childhood, and in any event I feel that you are fully capable of assuming the responsibilities which must fall upon you as the only—living—male descendant—of—the Winkler Family.” Mr. Lambert uttered these last words with an impressiveness that cannot be described. Paul looked up, suddenly interested, and with a wary, defensive expression.
“No doubt your father acquainted you with his wishes?”
“My father told me to come to you, and that you would help me,” said Paul.
“Help you? Indeed I will help you. I would help you in any event because you are my nephew, and blood runs thicker than water, my boy. Always remember that. But believe me, it is not family duty alone that impels me to give you all the assistance I can,—I feel that you are a young man who is worthy—worthy to enter upon the duties of your position.”
Paul was puzzled. He could not understand these allusions to his “position,” and his “responsibilities.”
“Never hesitate to come to me for any advice. Do not allow little discouragements to overwhelm you,” continued Mr. Lambert. “Your aunt, of course, will be your real teacher—”
“My aunt?” echoed Paul, completely bewildered. “I don’t understand—”
“Ah,” said Mr. Lambert, smiling, “perhaps you are not familiar with the traditions of your family. Then, I will tell you; your great-great-grandfather, on your father’s side, Johann Winkler, was, as you surely know, the founder of this Bakery. He was, moreover, the inventor of certain delicacies which have made it famous, and which cannot possibly be made by any other baker in this country—in the world, I may say. It was his wish that the fruits of his labors should be the heritage of his descendants, and that only those who bore the name of Winkler, should learn the secret recipes by which those cakes are mixed. A moment’s thought will make it clear to you that you are the next in line to be initiated into these secrets, which are sealed from me, and my children. In a word, you are the only living heir to this business. Your aunt, of course, is the present proprietor, and she and she alone can instruct you in the work in which you must follow her.”