He departed on a cold, crisp October evening. The faculty accompanied him to the station. Lilly and Rosalie, who had learned the time of his leaving at papa Katz's office, also were present, but they kept themselves in the background.
He glided past them muffled in a thick scarf, his fiery eyes turned upon the distance.
When the train left, the two girls flung themselves into each other's arms and wept for love and pride.
On their way home Rosalie invited her friend to have an éclair with her, for it had grown too cold for meringues glacés.
Half an hour later they were sitting in the confectionery shop smiling at each other and looking at the pictures in the illustrated papers.
With the advent of spring a new and gayer existence began for Mrs. Czepanek.
He was soon coming, that was certain. But even if the time was short, why spend it over that disgusting sewing? There was a less wearing way of making a living.
The thing was simple enough--rent an apartment of nine rooms, buy the furniture on credit, and have a plate hung on the outside of the house inscribed: "Board and Lodging for Students." As for the rest, well, a way would be found.
This little set of thoughts took exclusive possession of Mrs. Czepanek's poor brain, riddled like a sieve by the incessant whirr of the sewing-machine.
Though such a careless existence appealed to Lilly's fancy, she harboured some small doubts. In the first place the clamouring, threatening duns that had besieged their home after papa's departure were still fresh in her shuddering memory. Then she did not see quite clearly where so many students, enough to fill a nine-room apartment, were suddenly to come from after the beginning of the summer semester, since all had secured quarters already.
But her mother would listen to no objections.
"I will go to the directors, I will go to the mayor, I will--" and the attic room resounded with the new triumphant, "I will--"
Now began a series of mysterious expeditions. Frequently, when Lilly returned from school, she could tell at the bottom of the stairs that the machine, whose industrious clatter had greeted her for years, was at a standstill, and she would find the key to the room under the door-mat.