"He might be a tutor," said the General.
"Intellect!" said the General's lady; but she did not say anything more.
During the beautiful summer-time Mr. George several times visited the Count at his castle; and he was missed when he did not come.
"How much the good God has given you that he has not given to us poor mortals," said Emily to him. "Are you sure you are very grateful for it?"
It flattered George that the lovely young girl should look up to him, and he thought then that Emily had unusually good abilities.
And the General felt more and more convinced that George was no cellar-child.
"His mother was a very good woman," he observed. "It is only right
I should do her that justice now she is in her grave."
The summer passed away, and the winter came; again there was talk about Mr. George. He was highly respected, and was received in the first circles. The General had met him at a court ball.
And now there was a ball to be given in the General's house for
Emily, and could Mr. George be invited to it?
"He whom the King invites can be invited by the General also," said the General, and drew himself up till he stood quite an inch higher than before.
Mr. George was invited, and he came; princes and counts came, and they danced, one better than the other. But Emily could only dance one dance- the first; for she made a false step- nothing of consequence; but her foot hurt her, so that she had to be careful, and leave off dancing, and look at the others. So she sat and looked on, and the architect stood by her side.
"I suppose you are giving her the whole history of St. Peter's," said the General, as he passed by; and smiled, like the personification of patronage.
With the same patronizing smile he received Mr. George a few days afterwards. The young man came, no doubt, to return thanks for the invitation to the ball. What else could it be? But indeed there was something else, something very astonishing and startling. He spoke words of sheer lunacy, so that the General could hardly believe his own ears. It was "the height of rhodomontade," an offer, quite an inconceivable offer- Mr. George came to ask the hand of Emily in marriage!
"Man!" cried the General, and his brain seemed to be boiling. "I don't understand you at all. What is it you say? What is it you want? I don't know you. Sir! Man! What possesses you to break into my house? And am I to stand here and listen to you?" He stepped backwards into his bed-room, locked the door behind him, and left
Mr. George standing alone. George stood still for a few minutes, and then turned round and left the room. Emily was standing in the corridor.
"My father has answered?" she said, and her voice trembled.
George pressed her hand.
"He has escaped me," he replied; "but a better time will come."
There were tears in Emily's eyes, but in the young man's eyes shone courage and confidence; and the sun shone through the window, and cast his beams on the pair, and gave them his blessing.
The General sat in his room, bursting hot. Yes, he was still boiling, until he boiled over in the exclamation, "Lunacy! porter! madness!"
Not an hour was over before the General's lady knew it out of the General's own mouth. She called Emily, and remained alone with her.
"You poor child," she said; "to insult you so! to insult us so!
There are tears in your eyes, too, but they become you well. You look beautiful in tears. You look as I looked on my wedding-day.
Weep on, my sweet Emily."
"Yes, that I must," said Emily, "if you and my father do not say
'yes.'"
"Child!" screamed the General's lady; "you are ill! You are talking wildly, and I shall have a most terrible headache! Oh, what a misfortune is coming upon our house! Don't make your mother die,
Emily, or you will have no mother."
And the eyes of the General's lady were wet, for she could not bear to think of her own death.
In the newspapers there was an announcement. "Mr. George has been elected Professor of the Fifth Class, number Eight."
"It's a pity that his parents are dead and cannot read it," said the new porter people, who now lived in the cellar under the General's apartments. They knew that the Professor had been born and grown up within their four walls.
"Now he'll get a salary," said the man.
"Yes, that's not much for a poor child," said the woman.
"Eighteen dollars a year," said the man. "Why, it's a good deal of money."
"No, I mean the honor of it," replied the wife. "Do you think he cares for the money? Those few dollars he can earn a hundred times over, and most likely he'll get a rich wife into the bargain. If we had children of our own, husband, our child should be an architect and a professor too."
George was spoken well of in the cellar, and he was spoken well of in the first floor. The old Count took upon himself to do that.
The pictures he had drawn in his childhood gave occasion for it.
But how did the conversation come to turn on these pictures? Why, they had been talking of Russia and of Moscow, and thus mention was made of the Kremlin, which little George had once drawn for Miss Emily. He had drawn many pictures, but the Count especially remembered one, "Emily's
Castle," where she was to sleep, and to dance, and to play at receiving guests.
"The Professor was a true man," said the Count, "and would be a privy councillor before he died, it was not at all unlikely; and he might build a real castle for the young lady before that time came: why not?"
"That was a strange jest," remarked the General's lady, when the
Count had gone away. The General shook his head thoughtfully, and went out for a ride, with his groom behind him at a proper distance, and he sat more stiffly than ever on his high horse.