Page 29 of Maurice Guest


  I.

  Frau Krause was ill pleased at his unlooked-for reappearance, and didnot scruple to say so. From the condition of disorder in which he foundhis room, Maurice judged that it had been occupied, during his absence,by the entire family. Having been caught napping, Frau Krause carriedthe matter off with a high hand: she gave him to understand that hisbehaviour in descending upon her thus, was not that of a decent lodger.Maurice never parleyed with her; ascertaining by a glance that hisbooks and music had been left untouched, he made his escape from thepails of water that were straightway brought into evidence, as well asfrom her irate assurances that the room would be ready for him in aquarter of an hour.

  He went into the town, and did various small errands necessary to thetaking up anew of the old life. After he had had dinner, and had lookedthrough the newspapers, the temptation was strong to go to Louise, andspend the hot afternoon hours at her side. But he resisted; for thatwould have been a poor beginning to the sensible way of life they wouldhave to follow, from now on. Besides, with the certainty of seeing heragain in a very short time, it was not impossible to be patient. Nomore uncertainty, no more doubts and fears!--the day for these wasover.--And so, having satisfied himself that his room was stilluninhabitable, he strolled to the Conservatorium, to see what noticeshad remained affixed to the notice-board. As he was leaving again, hemet the janitor, and from him learned that his name was down for thefirst ADBENDUNTERHALTUNG of the coming month.

  In the shadeless street, he paused irresolute. The heat of theslumbrous afternoon was oppressive; all animation seemed suspended. Thetrees in streets and gardens drooped, brownishyellow, and heavy withdust. The sun met the eyes blindingly, and was reflected from everyhouse-wall. Maurice went for a walk in the woods. In his pocket he hada letter, still unread, which he had found waiting for him that day. Itwas from his mother, and his eyes slid carelessly over the pages. Therewere the usual reproaches for his prolonged silences, the never-failingreminders that his time in Leipzig would come to an end the followingspring, as well as several details of domestic interest. Then, however,followed a piece of news, which rallied his attention.

 
Henry Handel Richardson's Novels