Brightness, splendor, light and flowers, wealth and taste appeared at the ball; there was so much to see, that the beautiful hands of
Madame Rubens made no sensation at all.
A black domino, with an acacia blossom in his cap, danced with
Psyche.
"Who is that?" asked the General's lady.
"His Royal Highness," replied the General. "I am quite sure of it.
I knew him directly by the pressure of his hand."
The General's lady doubted it.
General Rubens had no doubts about it. He went up to the black domino and wrote the royal letters in the mask's hand. These were denied, but the mask gave him a hint.
The words that came with the saddle: "One whom you do not know,
General."
"But I do know you," said the General. "It was you who sent me the saddle."
The domino raised his hand, and disappeared among the other guests.
"Who is that black domino with whom you were dancing, Emily?" asked the General's lady.
"I did not ask his name," she replied, "because you knew it. It is the Professor. Your protege is here, Count!" she continued, turning to that nobleman, who stood close by. "A black domino with acacia blossoms in his cap."
"Very likely, my dear lady," replied the Count. "But one of the
Princes wears just the same costume."
"I knew the pressure of the hand," said the General. "The saddle came from the Prince. I am so certain of it that I could invite that domino to dinner."
"Do so. If it be the Prince he will certainly come," replied the
Count.
"And if it is the other he will not come," said the General, and approached the black domino, who was just speaking with the King.
The General gave a very respectful invitation "that they might make each other's acquaintance," and he smiled in his certainty concerning the person he was inviting. He spoke loud and distinctly.
The domino raised his mask, and it was George. "Do you repeat your invitation, General?" he asked.
The General certainly seemed to grow an inch taller, assumed a more stately demeanor, and took two steps backward and one step forward, as if he were dancing a minuet, and then came as much gravity and expression into the face of the General as the General could contrive to infuse into it; but he replied,
"I never retract my words! You are invited, Professor!" and he bowed with a glance at the King, who must have heard the whole dialogue.
Now, there was a company to dinner at the General's, but only the old Count and his protege were invited.
"I have my foot under his table," thought George. "That's laying the foundation stone."
And the foundation stone was really laid, with great ceremony, at the house of the General and of the General's lady.
The man had come, and had spoken quite like a person in good society, and had made himself very agreeable, so that the General had often to repeat his "Charming!" The General talked of this dinner, talked of it even to a court lady; and this lady, one of the most intellectual persons about the court, asked to be invited to meet the Professor the next time he should come. So he had to be invited again; and he was invited, and came, and was charming again; he could even play chess.
"He's not out of the cellar," said the General; "he's quite a distinguished person. There are many distinguished persons of that kind, and it's no fault of his."
The Professor, who was received in the King's palace, might very well be received by the General; but that he could ever belong to the house was out of the question, only the whole town was talking of it.
He grew and grew. The dew of favor fell from above, so no one was surprised after all that he should become a Privy Councillor, and Emily a Privy Councillor's lady.
"Life is either a tragedy or a comedy," said the General. "In tragedies they die, in comedies they marry one another."
In this case they married. And they had three clever boys- but not all at once.
The sweet children rode on their hobby-horses through all the rooms when they came to see the grandparents. And the General also rode on his stick; he rode behind them in the character of groom to the little Privy Councillors.
And the General's lady sat on her sofa and smiled at them, even when she had her severest headache.
So far did George get, and much further; else it had not been worth while to tell the story of THE PORTER'S SON.