Part 9 (1/2)
”Oh--oh, how good you are! May I run home and tell mother, now?”
”Yes, run along and tell her as quickly as you like. Only understand, not a word to anyone else about it. I'll come round this evening, anyway, and fix it all up.”
Hans, in his delight, forgot all about hiding the hole in his trousers; he grasped his friend's hands and looked at him with glistening eyes.
”Is it really true--that I'm to go to Christiania?”
”True as ever could be, little lad, and now off you go--I'll come along soon.”
Holm took the organist's letter and read it through once again.
”n.o.ble old fellow--so you'd sacrifice your hard-earned money and give your trouble for nothing? Not if I know it; you shan't be a loser there. And as for Hans, I'll see to his education myself. He shall go to Paris instead of those madcap youngsters with their parties. My '52 Madeira too! But we'll soon put a stop to that.”
V
MRS. RANTZAU'S STORY
She was a teacher of singing, and had only recently settled in the town. Holm had never seen her, but now that her daughter was working in his office, and Marie had begun taking lessons with Mrs. Rantzau herself, he felt it his duty to call.
Moreover, he had some secret hope that it might be possible here to find an ally in his plan for combating Marie's artistic craze. In addition to which, she was Betty's mother....
The place was four storeys up, and Holm, tired after his climb, sat down at the top of the stairs for a moment before ringing the bell.
Tra-la-la-la-la-la--he could hear a woman's voice singing scales inside, the same thing over and over again. A little after came another voice, which he took to be Mrs. Rantzau's.
”Mouth wide open, please; that's it--now breathe!”
Holm rang the bell and Mrs. Rantzau opened the door.
He stood dumbfounded for a moment, staring at her.
”Heavens alive--it can't be--Bianca, is it really you?”
She turned pale, came close to him and whispered:
”For Heaven's sake, not a word.” Then, taking him by the arm, she thrust him gently into a room adjoining.
He heard the young lady take her departure, and a moment later Mrs.
Rantzau stood before him.
She was still a magnificently handsome woman. The dark eyes were deep and clear as ever, the black hair waved freely over the forehead, albeit with a thread of silver here and there. Her figure was slender and well-poised, her whole appearance eloquent of energy and life.
”If you knew how I have dreaded this moment, Mr. Holm,” she began, then suddenly stopped.
”H'm--yes. It's a good many years now since last we met, Bianca--beg pardon, Mrs. Rantzau, I mean.”
”Fifteen--yes, it's fifteen years ago. And much has happened since then. I didn't know really whether to go and call on you myself, and ask you not to say anything about the way we met, and how I was living then. But then again, I thought you must have forgotten me ages ago.”