Part 73 (1/2)

Home, sweet home! At home in a beloved mother's house. A man visits many gay places where people enjoy themselves: finds himself at times in glorious palaces; builds himself a nest, and rears a house of his own:--but even then some sweet enchantment overcomes his heart when he steps over the threshold of that quiet dwelling where a loving mother's guardian hand has protected every souvenir of his childhood,--so that he finds everything as he left it long ago, and sees and feels that, while he has lived through the changing events of a period in his life, that loving heart has still clung to that last moment, and that the intervening time has been but as the eternal remembrance of one hour spent within those walls.

There are his childhood's toys piled up; he would love to sit down once more among them, and play with them: there are the books that delighted his childhood's days; he would love to read them anew, and learn again what he had long forgotten, what was in those days such great knowledge.

Lorand spent a happy week at home, in the course of which Mrs. Fromm took f.a.n.n.y back to Pressburg.

As Desiderius had asked for f.a.n.n.y's hand, it was only proper that he should take his bride away from her parents' house.

One week later the whole aronffy family started to fetch the bride; only Desiderius' mother remained at home.

In the little house in Prince's Avenue the same old faces all awaited them, only they were ten years older. Old Marton hastened, as erstwhile, to open the carriage door; only his moving crest was as white as that of a c.o.c.katoo. Father Fromm, too, was waiting at the door, but could no longer run to meet his guests, for his left arm and leg were paralyzed: he leaned upon a long bony young man, who had spent much pains in trying to twist into a moustache by the aid of cunning unguents the few hairs on his upper lip, that would not under any circ.u.mstances consent to grow. It was easy to recognize Henrik in the young fellow who would have loved so much to smile, only that cursed waxed moustache would not allow his mouth to open very far.

”Welcome, welcome,” sounded from all sides. Father Fromm opened his arms to receive the grandmother: Henrik leaped on to Desiderius' neck, while old Marton slouched up to Lorand, and, nudging him with his elbows, said with a humorous smile, ”Well, no harm came of it, you see.”

”No, old fellow. And I have to thank this good stick for it,” said Lorand, producing from under his coat Marton's walking stick, for which he had had made a beautiful silver handle in place of the previous dog's-foot.

The old fellow was beside himself with delight that they thought so much of his relics.

”Is it true,” he asked, ”that you fought two highwaymen with this stick?

Master Desiderius wrote to say so.”

”No, only one.”

”And you knocked him down?”

”It was impossible for he ran away. Now I have done my walking, and give back the stick with thanks.”

But it was not the silver handle that delighted Marton so. He took the returned stick into the shop, like some trophy, and related to the a.s.sistants, how Master Lorand had, with that alone, knocked down three highwaymen. He would not have surrendered that stick for a whole Mecklenburg full of every kind of cane.

Old Grandmother Fromm, too, was still alive and counted it a great triumph that she had just finished the hundredth pair of stockings for f.a.n.n.y's trousseau.

And last, but not least, f.a.n.n.y, even more beautiful, even more amiable!--as if she had not seen Desiderius and his grandmother for an eternity!

”Well, you will be our daughter!”

And they all loved Desiderius so.

”What a handsome man he has grown,” complimented Grandmother Fromm.

”What a good fellow!”--remarked Mother Fromm.

”What a clever fellow! How learned!” was Father Fromm's encomium.

”And what a muscular rascal!” said Henrik, overcome with astonishment that another boy too had grown as large as he. ”Do you remember how one evening you threw me on to the bed? How angry I was with you then!”

”Do you remember how the first evening you put away the cake for Henrik?” said grandmamma. ”How you blushed then!”

”Do you remember,” interrupted Father Fromm, ”the first time you addressed me in German? How I laughed at you then!”

”Well, and do you remember me?” said f.a.n.n.y playfully, putting her hand on her fiance's arm.

”When first you kissed me here,” retorted Desiderius, looking into her beaming eyes.