Americans -- Austria -- Fiction; Love stories; Vienna (Austria) -- Fiction; Violinists -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
When it was finished the boy smiled faintly, tried to salute, lay still.
CHAPTER XXVII
Peter was going back to America and still he had not told Harmony he
loved her. It was necessary that he go back. His money had about given
out, and there was no way to get more save by earning it. The drain of
Jimmy's illness, the inevitable expense of the small grave and the tiny
stone Peter had insisted on buying, had made retreat his only course.
True, Le Grande had wished to defray all expenses, but Peter was
inexorable. No money earned as the dancer earned hers should purchase
peaceful rest for the loved little body. And after seeing Peter's eyes
the dancer had not insisted.
A week had seen many changes. Marie was gone. After a conference between
Stewart and Peter that had been decided on. Stewart raised the money
somehow, and Peter saw her off, palpitant and eager, with the pin he had
sent her to Semmering at her throat. She kissed Peter on the cheek in
the station, rather to his embarrassment. From the lowered window, as
the train pulled out, she waved a moist handkerchief.
“I shall be very good,” she promised him. The last words he heard above
the grinding of the train were her cheery: “To America!”
Peter was living alone in the Street of Seven Stars, getting food
where he might happen to be, buying a little now and then from the
delicatessen shop across the street. For Harmony had gone back to the
house in the Wollbadgasse. She had stayed until all was over and until
Marie's small preparations for departure were over. Then, while Peter
was at the station, she slipped away again. But this time she left her
address. She wrote:--
“You will come to visit me, dear Peter, because I was so lonely before
and that is unnecessary now. But you must know that I cannot stay in
the Siebensternstrasse. We have each our own fight to make, and you have
been trying to fight for us all, for Marie, for dear little Jimmy, for
me. You must get back to work now; you have lost so much time. And I
am managing well. The Frau Professor is back and will take an evening
lesson, and soon I shall have more money from Fraulein Reiff. You can
see how things are looking up for me. In a few months I shall be able to
renew my music lessons. And then, Peter,--the career!
“HARMONY.”
Her address was beneath.
Peter had suffered much. He was thinner, grayer, and as he stood with
the letter in his hand he felt that Harmony was right. He could offer
her nothing but his shabby self, his problematic future. Perhaps,
surely, everything would have been settled, without reason, had he only
once taken the girl in his arms, told her she was the breath of life
itself to him. But adversity, while it had roused his fighting spirit in
everything else, had sapped his confidence.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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